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getodrools · 3 months

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𐙚 DRUNK IN LOVE. VARIOUS J. KAISEN! — in which, getting tipsy with your boyfriend is fun! especially when your eyes begin to glaze over with a little need…

PAIRINGS. bf! gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso x f! reader

| 𝓲. | MDNI ৎ୭ separate smut. hcs and pov. dub con (only cuz both parties are drunk/tipsy) but this is all consensual sex. GOJO: dry humping, spanking, premature cumshot/creampie, he's whiney. GETO: public/bathroom sex, cunnilingus, squirting, he eats it from the back, almost anal? (oops!), he gets nasty. NANAMI: shower sex, cock warming, marking. TOJI: public/car sex, belly bulge, cervix fucking, pussy spanking, fingering. CHOSO: scent kink, dry humping, breeding, it's the curse in him istg, he's also vv whiney.

WORD COUNT –> est 2.4k+

໒꒰ྀི｡•̀ᴗ-꒱ྀི 🗞 OK OK i was obv listening to bae and was rlly inspired to write this ♡ it's kinda sappy and rlly horne ;o

⟡ | SATORU GOJO!

you both know he is a lightweight! gojo can't handle a single shot without tipping a little off to the side… gojo is always extra playful when he gets cold on rocks. he'd giggle and swoon easily – or try to annoy you and make you flustered more than he was before he'd start to mumble off… haggard and glued to you with nimble ideas spontaneously popping in his head, and you'd catch the bright flicker in his blue hues…

it's unavoidable once that switch blows off -- he's unavoidable when crapulous thoughts begin to brew.

gojo has a more dewy glow, almost sweating when he'd start to feel his cock growing in tight confines with little room – embarrassing for someone like him… he'd start to twitch and not just his hands. it'd make his cheeks kiss with a soft pink and pretty eyes to hood low when blood rushed faster the longer he gazed at you. he'd lean back, a little more relaxed with limbs more loose; legs spreading wider, and arms flinging over a shoulder and chair as if all hopes weren't on his own.

but oh, that damn tilt he'd sweep his head down with was evil! he'd peek right over at you through heavy lashes as his hair would cascade like it was payed, even a lose smirk annoyingly pokes at you… gojo couldn't help but squeeze at himself playfully when he'd try to bite at his lip, but the smile growing was unmeasurably too mischievous to hold back when you'd play along...

oh. this was horny sex.

your chest was mashed straight into the first wall of your house – the walk back from your usual date night was just as nasty; he couldn't stop poking and slapping at your ass all the way through… – now sandwiched as his own was pinned into your back, melting right into you, even spiked breath panting at the shell of your ear you could taste… it was sticky.

gojo kept himself stapled against you with no simple movement – it was a burning rub between you both. with his prodding dick meat bulging from his pant leg to the globes of your ass was like a hungry fly in honey. embraced so tightly he'd wind his hips in sync with yours to keep at it, mirroring you as hands fumble to dig at the soft curvature of your hips; squeezing before roving down the valley of your legs.

between fleshy thighs until rough fingers prodded at your wet and exposed lips. gojo chuckled roughly, and without being gentle he started to rub the sensitive skin.

“wanna… 'm gonna fuck you so — hard.” the little shimmy you poke your ass out with in response was like cables to a car, to his engines firing off – giving you a mean swat. gasping between succinct sensations; his free hand was pinching through the front of your dress, hooking a finger beneath to toy at the puffy hood of your clit… pleasure riding close with delicious ache; still all while the other would drag welts across supple skin.

his kisses were dragging; tongue lapping sloppily against the side of your face with soft lips and almost teeth following. anything after was a subtle shift of piling hot need…

booting your legs further open to pry intentions. your cocktail dress was frilled over your ass. the cold air helped your buzz but the wwhiplash of fat meat irresistibly prodding at your sopping hole tinkered something else in your brain…

he was quick.

he felt thicker as he hotdogged himself between perk your ass. he was eager.

if you could give a peek over your shoulder to see the oozing bulbous tip, you would, and drool… but satoru kept his head at your temple, cheek to cheek, mushing right against you like he was stuck. the wall in front of you seemed to do the same, yet cooled off burning skin as you clung to it.

whispering sweet nothings, “hheeh, i’m cummingg.” gojo chuckled, almost bantering into a whine as battered spunk ribbons out across ridden flesh; hips jutting and without second thought he was dipping his tip between the slippery folds of your cunt. cum still oozing and pushing into you.

your hips rock and your sopping pussy clenches. uttering out long symbols of incoherent spews.

you could feel all of him; tipsy or not, he always filled you up, but inch through inch now felt deeper, practically feeling his hot knot warming you up.

gojo fucked right up into you ‘'til you both gave out – pulling at your arms through orgasm after another… you'd dog at each other until sunrise. clothes lost, and living room torn, and the dining wall stained with your lipstick and sweat prints of your figure…

⟡ | SUGURU GETO!

suguru can handle a few tall glasses before his bangs start to stick to his face. his hair would fall loosely and he'd run lithe fingers through it; flip it to the side, part it, twist it, even tuck some behind his ear – he looks like a nervous schoolgirl when he's buzzed! it's a small safe haven for him – noticing how he can't help but trace along your skin too and squeeze at for reassurance, seeming that's what he craves in a state like this…

he's unusually quiet but just as annoying; tilting his head, hair would fall right over his face but that doesn't stop him from smothering you with kisses. he thinks he looks like a prince kissing his princess – embarrassingly trying to be romantic with lopsided jokes and corny pickup lines. only covering them up with battering doe eyes.

suguru’s eyes tend to lay low and when he'd settle from the first stage of being tipsy – the giggling, the fun… he'd sit with a deep stare. he looks like he's pondering heavily as legs are sprawled wide across from you, and roven jet hair curtaining over most delicate, glowing features. it's soft at first glance; his brows winding up and lips pouting makes him look gentle, but sunken eyes fire off a different disguise… he'd stare at you intently but his lips would curl invitingly — well more of the bulge prodding between bouncing thighs...

it'd make you nervous – a powerful man like him would make anyone nervous. but you knew that feral gaze. it was a killer, and he knew it sparked you up too, a signal for the go, and one move was all you needed to be pounced on. he gets filthy when you gave him the cue.

“getoo... someone is goiing to see.” your hand squeezes at that one playing a dangerous game between your legs, and yet you spread them just a little wider…

too many people crowd the pleasant restaurant geto took you to for a few drinks – nothing more, he said… now his fingers lock into a hook right up your pussy beneath the table. the drinks and plates crowd at the table too, almost hidden in a leather, private booth but your faces were quite the contrary… you bat a worried look but it quickly sulks into a pinch; your eyes shut and lips squeeze in, sucking up that moan threatening to spill out.

suguru slurs. he yearns to feel your cunt sucking him up you right now, almost whining over it… you were right though, no doubt, he was—is making a scene the longer his tongue lapped at your neck like a dog… but it's all he was thinking about; spreading your pussy wide between his fingers – it's such a sight he adores, his eyes even flutter close and chin rests at your shoulder just to image it while your folds silk around him as he plunges working hands beneath your dress.

“heh, ‘s… ‘s ok… -- then let's go somewhere no one— heh, can…” the rogue hics…

. . .

“oh my god— suguru!” your eyes peel back wide as those teasing hands now smash down on your two doughy globes; spreading the supple skin wide just for himself.

he hums and his tongue doesn't hesitate to slide right between them.

your spine shivers at the slime delving between your puffy folds; the swirling of his wet muscle pokes in and flicks up – fucking you raw with his tongue. hot breath sticks to your skin and he almost gasps forgetting to breathe himself, too lost in lapping up the sticky web clinging to your sopping cunt.

you hold dear to the stall with one hand as the other locks a good chunk of hair at the back of his head. you groan as you mush his face closer ‘til the point of his nose tickles at your perk hole. suguru didn't need help but it was hot how needy you were, and it fired him right off the ecstasy cliff.

your eyes pop open wide, feeling him filthy glide up and around and past your perk hole… this was virtuously him, drunk and eating your ass in a bathroom stall… and it was making his dick stiffer by the second.

he bit at the tender flesh, gave it a jiggle, and went back in for more.

suguru knows all he needed was his working mouth to make you fall pliant. you know that too, already feeling your stomach coiling the longer he kept at it; his pace was frantic, yet knew where exactly to set a frenzy.

clapping a hand over your ridden mouth, your knees hook inward and your heart jumps. cunt quivering around nothing in desperate need, he pops a finger in just to feel you spasm… glistening a stream down the strong of his forearm you both pant.

heavy breaths escaped your mouth in short, quick gasps — in rough timing with the movements of your boyfriend continuing to fondle every inch behind you… suguru spat out a wad of spit; adding to the mess, sloppy as is, he tracks it and slurps it back up. the squelching and bubbles foaming echoed as he tongued harder past all your sopping openings, up your spine, and to the soft curvature of your neck.

“wow-- suguru… you're so— oh!” the tall brunette giggles and taps his cock head at your perk, now messy hole.

your hand instinctively grabs at his base, “oh–! not in a… bathroom… y-you wish.” he's too big, and you're too drunk to deal with such a mighty stretch at the moment…

“w-when we-- we get home… sit on my dick? then– please?” geto whines.

⟡ | KENTO NANAMI!

nanami will sip… and sip… and continue to sip on his “only one glass.” ‘til he notices that said glass has now turned into five – somehow. he can't keep up with himself! having such a strong subconscious of being responsible and yet, you'd still have to try to swat at his hands when he'd reach to pour another thinking he can pay attention himself! (he just feels extra relaxed with you is all).

nanami tends to get tipsier than flat-out drunk and when he does, he's surprisingly more laid back. a damper smile fading into features and more hand movement when he rambles on about life. never about work, or anything burdening his spirit – only just between you both. he'd fall pliant into you with future thoughts… he gets sappy.

his tie loosens up and a few buttons are popped from his suit, even his signature glasses get folded and stuffed somewhere. the more content he gets, the more he feels the atmosphere; he'd start to let it sink in, watching and admiring details more finely – like your beauty flaunting up front or to your little giggles – it all relaxes him.

he'd admire sometimes too hard. the liquor catching up. and he'd probably put his glasses back on to hide the droop and hard stare, but they'd steam up as his body does… nanami always gets extra hot when it would burn down his throat, even goring eyes to doe, blonde hair now getting shaggy out from its soft gel, and even his cock gets stiffer than a wedding dick…

“don't fall!” you shout with a giggle as your naked bodies slip around in soap, fondling ever so closely.

“only for you.” nanami almost rolls his eyes at his own line but you suck it right up with a bright smile, just how your cunt sucks his cock right up, warming his base with a sort of adore.

it's been a night, and nanami brought the idea up – a romantic. delicious home-cooked food and a few glasses of wine, tipsy and giggly, now playing around in the shower after a long night, soapy and just as giggly… and with sexes warming each other was just the cherry at the top.

your back presses firm into the marble walls and he doesn't let you worry about the rest of yourself; cradling your lower half close with a strong grip at your thighs that hook around the small of his waist. nanami planted himself between the sweet heat of your legs, bucking a slow rhythm in and out of your cunt, sometimes burying a little too deep your head almost crashes with his…

oh, you both were feeling this… the music from earlier still playing in the living room chants shallowly into the bathroom, both of you were tipsy and just together laughing, fucking raw and loving, cleaning each other through kisses too… content and full, you purr.

“you're so… beautiful. you are like-- no words can explain… you're so—” he was turning red like a little girl. he gets so bubbly when liquor rides his system, but it's softening to see this overwrought man finally loosened up...

“you too.” you're gentle with him… a soft rock in your hips rides up to his pelvis and down to his base. the pudgy walls sucking him in makes the blonde groan, even his head falls snug between the welcoming of your shoulder and neck. pecking ever so gently…

your soapy hands feather up and down nanami’s broad back as stiff dick-meat fills you up. spongey folds slurping wetly around the fat crown adorning your womanhood with a sudden pace – unhurried but enough to feel every nth inch pressing deeply into you.

exactly how this moment intended it to get.

his cock pumps with a soft throb, almost in sync with your walls clenching around him then and here… kento goes on to rock his hips, dragging out achingly longer than intended; too lost in the lodge of his cock stuffing your cunt full when he'd nudge himself right back in – firmly embedding nth throbbing inches of thick pale flesh into your sopping cunt…

“yeah…” he smothers close to you.

biting down a baring mark at your shoulder, you giggle at the sharp teeth skimming at your skin, “don't eat me now.” he hucks a chuckle with you, and he just might the way you cling to him.

“don't tempt me, sweetheart…” nanami still buzzed with a fizz in his brain, seeing how he drooped a nimble smile at you.

panting, his breath fans at the plump of your cheek, whispering sweet nothings as the flow of water trickles between your clashing bodies. a slosh began the longer he kept at it. he nibbles at your bottom lip, playing idly with nimble tongues, and he bucks up into you ‘till the warm water fogged the mirrors…

⟡ | TOJI FUSHIGURO!

you joke how he just might get a beer belly the way he can chug down a liter… and toji would joke right back and still chug another down, again. the older fushiguro doesn't drink much but when he does and has the chance to, he's like an irish man lonely in a pub. he's looking for fun mostly.

toji grumbles, a lot. he’d keep his head locked between stiff shoulders and peer down at his glass, mumbling on about something and anything. he's a brute, cold-stoned usually, sometimes playful… --playful?! he has a set of damn dirty paws on him when he's drinking, and he's fully aware how nasty he can and does get.

toji keeps his tongue playing at his scar when he looks at you; sweat beading at his hairline, and hair itself jostled around almost spiked and fluffed. he looks more haggard than normal; more scruffy and gruff, his build tensing up yet it shamelessly suits him when he hackles. it's manly. and it turns you on. it turns him on that your turned on.

toji has a foul mouth on him too. he gets more verbal, a little more daring with you. almost like his dick is doing all the thinking for instead. even getting bold by mocking to put a baby in you…

toji knew that look. it was more heavier than usual, no less burning. you flaunted it across the bar after a few shots deep into your fun date night, and he couldn't help but drag you outside to fix it.

“toji!” you slur with a pitch. hands slapping around at the windows and legs kicking at the roof… he would've fucked you just as hard over the bar table if he could right then and there, but you both settled into his truck not too far — in the parking lot off the side…

toji pushes his cock deep into you with a force – a kind of drunken power that makes him forget he's a strong man—too strong to just pound into you like a flesh toy… almost breaking a pelvis, he steadies your legs above your head and onto his shoulders, forcing a thick print to knot up. the bulge of his cock-head bashes right against your perk cervix when he found a good footing on the back seat.

struggling to fit his nth-inch bitch breaker into the vice of your cunt, you practically howl. this was a horny, raw fuck… the small space reeked with pure sex the longer you huffed into each other's mouths and it almost added to the high…

the sheer milk creaming and rolling down the thick shaft he pumps with was quickly swallowed up once more as he buried himself back in, stuffing you to the hilt. the car shook on its tires and the windows blurred.

pressing all the way into your guts, you felt lightheaded under the pressure of it all. cunt being abused from below, the jabbing of each inch of his hulking slab of dick-meat at a time deepened — movements in urgency as he worked your pussy wide. you tried your best to work with him, rolling your hips and raising them in time with his jagged gyrations but he held you down. sawing into your slit with haste.

booze impaired your judgment, no doubt, so you didn't notice the figure hovering at the window…

“hey! get outta here with that, you fucking animals!” the owner of the bar tapped his knuckles at the glass. it made you scream, flinch, and huddle into toji’s arm. toji himself didn't move, cock still firm and buried in you... but, he groaned – the audacity to interrupt his session with you, and he looks up; his face pearling with sweat, lips parted and panting, eyes low, not even snapping wide at the owner.

he pops himself out and the owner himself flinched, looking away quickly from the sheer mass dangling between your legs.

‘holy fuck, what. she takes all that?…’

. . .

you giggle into your hands and toji himself gave what happened a good chuckle as he drove off…

“nah, nono... don't think we're done.” toji keeps one hand firm at the steering wheel as the other finds itself back between your legs; slapping them open to give your pussy a good spank before popping a haste finger in. you groan and twist at the electric grope tingling up your spine.

the force of pumping his fingers into you lead to an instinctive bodily reaction, “pretty pussy still wet f’me.” he groans with you, missing the warmth you coated him with. his mouth waters and cock still twitches, but now it aches in tight confines… blue balled in his own damn car… feeling his balls spring up so tightly, ready to just pop, now his groin was left tense and waiting hungrily.

still tipsy and giggly – though he always has had a set of paws when it came to you… so, every stop sign and red light, his fingers played harder between your legs ‘till you both got home… finally left uninterrupted.

⟡ | CHOSO KAMO!

when choso drinks (which is rarely) he is always bound to get tipsy, never flat-out drunk. he enjoys a casual glass of wine here and there, especially when it's only you two. he feels a lot safer near someone (you) who he trusts to see him in such a ridden state.

but he only drinks with you because he knows (you both evidently know) how he can and does get. a sort of “you are women. i am man. we sex.” primal sense kicks into him like a dog. his body is constantly reminding him he has a dick and you have a sopping pussy he could dip right into. he's just meant to pop its knot into you and when he's boozed off the rocks it's all he could think of. it's like the curse in him trying to come out and the liquor riding through his system doesn't help – in his moral case.

choso peaks through fallen bangs; his hair lets loose and gorges into a mess. his eyes burn, almost a cry coming from him. he gets desperate and sweaty, a sort of glow than his usual sulk marinates at his features instead. he paces a little too, the alcohol swimming in his blood makes him shift around a lot; legs spreading open and closing or tapping together, his shoulders dropping, back straightened or hunched, and even to his hands try hard to keep off from you but they never seem to anyways.

choso is usually tame, quiet, and bordering on innocent with high care for his family. but he can become brutally honest. no matter how hard he tries to act fully human, that hard liquor always punches his curse straight in the face and breaks it out of him. as if that's all he ever was. every time. he'd tell you everything, to secrets, to stupid jokes, or how hard you get him, and how badly he needs to flip this table over and fuck you widely until your full.

your hips roll in a slow rhythm, sometimes catching the bump in choso’s pants between your legs...

cruising your clothed cunt against the bare skin of pale thick meat, it was almost antagonizing the way you played with him… lacey panties thin enough to feel your slick ooze through and gloss his shaft, even feeling lips kiss at the soft skin that rolls up and hides his bulbous, blushing tip every time you press against him—teasing him.

his eyes sulk and he left his mouth hanging, “wanna… stuff you… let me cum in you, please.” he needed to, it's where his cum belonged! he could feel his balls pushing up to burp spunk through the crown of his cock. it was aching now.

you've been at this for a while. about nine songs in and two full bottles left empty… enough with the teasing! his cock too hard to be ignored any longer. all the teasing you sauntered around with as liquor poured down your throats added to the fury. choso couldn't take you grinding on his cock anymore, he needed to feel you in this very moment.

that smell, that look. this is who he wanted. right now.

almost a chivalrous code – his cock throbs twice and the warmth of his body pulsing against yours, too close for a drunken curse to not want to lash out then and there… your pretty lips went to whisper out to him, but arms longer than you remembered swoop in like steel talons around your waist; sinking in fast with lithe fingers into your ribs and crushing your body flat into the couch with the haste of swiftness.

he was left on top now. you can see the dark stars in his eyes twinkling past sticking hair. your cunt clenched, feeling her purr with a need catching how he seethed above you hungrily.

choso’s own anchored you down quickly before you could react – his weight-gaining pressure to keep you still from wriggling beneath him, yet you still tempted him, like usual; limbs tossling in fevor and breath gasping into sunken moans.

“please…” choso humped against you raw; his cock clanging against your thighs like a church bell.

you peck at his lips, letting him shift your panties off to the side with a hooked finger. finally. he almost lets out the cutest whine too, sweating as he dips himself in slowly, yet surely.

the stretch was deliciously blissful. he angled his hips just right to make a smooth way; gummy walls sucking him in invitingly. he filled you up quickly, your walls to their hilt and your naked frame dragged beneath his. sharp and working into you snugly with a rhythm that let him soak this in before his greed began to consume him – or maybe it was the liquor overriding his system… or the breeding instinct in him kicking in…

either one, choso jackhammered down and deep into the spongy, tight walls of your cunt. your lips curl and open wide, panting out his name in a frantic frenzy.

“so warm.” his words lick up the nape of your neck – gliding the slick muscle to your temple and settling a keen kiss to your head, “‘s-- you want my cum? huh… tell me…” his own inclines and sweeps in; pressing hot mouths together firmly, deepening the wet kiss with the same ease, with a deeper, more lustful lock…

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bunniehrtz · 7 days

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mommy abby taking out her work stress on reader (ofc being the aftercare queen too) plsss

cw: kinda mean!abby, breeding kink, mirror sex, little cutesy aftercare

the front door of your shared apartment slams and it makes you jump. the air in your room goes cold, and you hear heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. a sound you know all too well.

abby has been having a tough time during her recent patrols - too many infected, shit partners, too many infected and shit partners. she comes home wound up and there’s only one solution. fucking you senseless. it has become almost routine but this time felt different. the house felt dark, cold, angry. abby bursts through the door, grabbing you by your forearms, pinning you down onto your bed. you try to pull away to talk to her. you should’ve known better. “abby- abs. what’s- fuck. what’s wrong?” you attempt to say in between kisses. “don’t- i don’t want to talk. just want you,” she says breathily, grinding her hips down into yours, her hands lifting up your shirt, throwing it behind her. as you let out a pornographic moan, abby slips her tongue into your mouth, exploring it feverishly. your chest flush against abby’s own, moaning into her mouth. “need- fuck. need to fuck you. need to have my way with you. will you let me?” she asks, out of breath. “yes, abby. yes,”

your back against abby’s, her huge hand holding your jaw, forcing you to look at yourself in the reflection of the mirror. “don’t look away, don’t close your legs, you’re not going fucking anywhere,” abby spits and you whimper in agreement. you let out a deafening scream at abby’s index, middle and ring finger slowly inching inside your soaked cunt. her attack on your pussy is brutal, your head thrown back against her shoulder, your eyes shut tight and you can only hear the slick wetness of your pussy and abby’s groans at said sound. “you hear that, baby? yeah? dirty fuckin’ bitch. so fucking dirty for me,”

“please, abs. please, ‘m so close, abs,” you try to say through moans. the fire in your stomach is so strong. and it disappears. “what? no, abby, no, please. was so close, abs,” you pout up at her, she smirks back down at you.

“not yet. on your hands and knees. face the mirror.”

the bed knocks against the wall, almost crashing through it. the squeaks of the bed go right through you and the pace in which her cock is pounding into you is mind numbing. your chest against the bed, your ass up in the air. abby’s hold on your hips is strong, her grip on your hair is even stronger, keeping your head up to make sure you keep eye contact with her. “if this dick was fuckin’ real, i’d be putting a baby inside you, fuck. you’d let me, wouldn’t you? want me to make you a mommy? say it. fuckin’ say it, baby,” abby encourages. “yes- oh, fuck! yes, want it so bad, please!” abby’s thrusts become quicker and harsher, her grip on you tightening. “yeah, i know, baby. i know. you wanna cum? you wanna cum, baby?” abby pulls you up by your hair, her hips attached to your neck, as she mutters. “cum for me, cum on this dick, baby. cum on this dick and i’ll cum inside this pretty pussy. come on, baby.” you let go with a scream, and a kiss on your neck.

—————

“you’re so beautiful, baby. drink up,” abby coos softly, handing you a bottle of water. you take a sip, cuddling into her. “are you okay? didn’t hurt you, right?” you shake your head, leaning up to press a kiss on abby’s lips.

“you didn’t, i’m okay.”

“good.”

“i love you.”

“i love you more, baby.”

“were you being serious about the baby thing?”

“you know i was.”

you cheeks heat as you cuddle more into abby’s chest, your eyes closing for the night. abby’s hands draw shapes on your back as you fall asleep, feeling as safe as ever.

#abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader smut #abby anderson tlou #the last of us abby #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby #the last of us #tlou #abby anderson x reader smut #abby x you

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sherewrytes · 9 days

Text

Ms. Good Grip

Inspired by this song

If you know you know. If you don't know how you know. Wanted to drop a fic with a more Caribbean inspo.

C.W : smut, Caribbean dialect, overstimulation, Caribbean black reader. Dom ony. Y/N be actin out

Your fav cousin wedding reception was in full swing. Drinks pouring, shots passing, weed smoke in the air all elders already left. You knew your boyfriend Ony wasn't used to Caribbean style parties. The pacing was completely from the usual parties he's used to. He was faded and tipsy, hands gripping your hips catching every whine you threw his way. You were completely bent over, if it wasn`t for your updo your hair would be touching the floor with how far you were bent over. You both took a break from dancing to get some drinks and more food before everyone's greedy ass ate it all up.

The song changed to Alkaline's on Fleek. As soon as you heard,

Whooo gyal yo pum, pum Gyal, yuh pum pum, Gyal, yuh pum pum on fleek.

You joined your other wild ass cousins in the dance circle and began whining. You made sure to position yourself right in front of Ony. You were secretly putting on all this show for him. All the weed and drinks had you wanting him. He looked so good in his semi casual fit You whined slowly at first slowly going lower to match the intro of the song staring him dead in his eyes while he smoked a joint with a bottle of Stag beer in his hand. His shades resting slightly lower on his nose. You watch him beckon you over with a finger, but you ignored him only because you loved riling him up at times, it makes the sex better.

You felt a hand grip your waist; you knew instantly it wasn't Ony's, but you decided to give the guy a lil dance. You cousin Shanice side eyed know mothing " Aye, you always lookin' for problems. You know how Ony's gonna react." You laughed saying "Oh well, small thing."

(Small thing- Trini slang for No big deal)

You heard the Dj scratch and the song changed to Spice's Jim Screechie

You were singing the song loud and clear while throwing it back on the random guy.

"And your gyal a watch you hard, but me no matter that Hold me tight and don't let me go Whine with me and me a whine with you"

You were giving him a wicked whine knowing for a fact that kinda whining is reserved for Ony but you thought "Oh well." The guy had one hand on your hips pulling you back against his hips while almost dry fuckin you on the makeshift dance floor. You felt a hand grab your wrist and pulled you. You looked up and saw it was Ony pulling you off the makeshift dance floor away from everyone.

"You got me fucked up; you know that. Are you goin out of your head or sum." Ony said his voice gruff with annoyance. You on the other hand were turned on by hearin' him this way. You smirked "It's just a dance Ony. I know you're suffering from not accustom. You bein' a black American I know you won't know much about my culture and shit."

You watch Ony's eye widen with annoyance "Oh really, you really wanna go that route with me. Imma give you a last chance to take that shit back." You rolled your eyes and giggled. "Still just a lil dance Ony." You attempted to walk away big mistake.

You knew it was your fault you were now in this situation. Your hands pressed and pinned against the toilet door with your back arched. Ony was feeding deep, hard strokes. You had to way to move, one of his hands pinned your hands against the door while the other was between your spread thighs rubbing your clit.

You felt your wetness run down your thigh, you were making a mess of yourself. You were coming again. You were pleading with him to take it easy on you "Ony 'm sor-sorry...please I can't"

"Nah, you can't, you weren't whining out there on him like you couldn't so nah you gon' take this dick. It's what you wanted right."

You were panting, moaning moaning his name as fucked you harder. You were now pressed against the door, his hand now pressed against the side of your neck. Between the hard slaps of his hips against yours and the song blaring in the background, you were losing your mind. You came twice already and feeling the third one fast approaching. He was rubbing your twitching clit. Rubbing so fast, your squirt was coming out faster than you realized. Your lust filled sobs were shaking your body and his, it only made him want to fuck you harder.

"Ony! Ony! Ouuu fuck I'm sorry 'm sorry please please please slow down." He stopped only to turn you over so you can be face to face as he lifted you up and pinned your back against the door again. You were both face to face. Ony's eyed still red from smoking.

"You always tryna test me and push me Y/N huh. You don't fuckin listen....actin up and showin out for WHO. that dude..playin' too much."

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your stomach clenched, you saw Ony smirk and slid his hand between both of your bodies and press down on your stomach. Your eyes widen while tears brimmed the corner. "Ouuu fuck! shit Ony..didn't mean to do it. why you fuckin me like this."

Ony tried to reign in his anger but her couldn't he felt it coming back, only pushing him to thrust deeper and harder "Don't play dumb with me Y/N you know I'm actin' like this."

Between Ony tearin your shit up and the music thumping in the background, you were close to another orgasm, tears now running down your face. Ony's hips practically pinning you between him and the door. Ony leaned in and kissed your tears away.

Ony finds your silence a bit annoying. After what felt like minutes, his hand gripped your throat. Through your teary eyes you could see you pushed Ony a bit to far but then again he knew how you were. He loved you for it.

Ony felt your body shivering against his. He kept feeding you deep, hard strokes which you were sure if the music wasn't loud as fuck everyone could hear. He felt his vexation simmering in his veins.

"Ony..please..I love you. I...Ony!" you pleaded. Ony rolled his eyes tired of hearing the same things over and over again come out of your mouth.

"Nah, love me, that's crazy Y/N. Do you really love me Y/N?" "I do Ony! I do. I won't do this shit again I swear...just.."

You were gripping around his dick so tightly he could feel his balls twitching and he fucked you against the door harder. He knew you loved pushing his buttons as much as you loved him. he wrapped your legs tighter around his hips, trying to go deep as he possibly can. You were so overstimulated you were shaking while pressed between the door and him.

"Fuck Y/N you're squeezin' me Gonna nut" you felt him fill you up groaning into your ear. You knew the amount he just came in you would leak out.

Ony sat you on the bathroom counter, helped you clean up then he cleaned up himself. You cleaned your face with make up wipes you had in your bag and reapplied your make up Ony smirked "You gon behave now my love" "Yes Ony I will"

You went back out the wedding party holding hands and smiling.

#black tumblr #aot onyankopon #aot x black reader #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x black y/n #black reader #aot x reader #aot x you #aot smut #aot scenarios

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haruchuiyo · 10 months

Text

dreams come true

shidou who has been all over you finally gets to have you

content: m(a)ture themes + shidou’s kind of a pervert + fingering + f!reader + reader wears a skirt + kinda public s(e)x + shidou is the real cw

first ever blue lock fic I’m writing and it had to be for this mandog lmfao

not proofread

—

“Are you wearing those cute panties, pretty?” A familiar voice speaks up from behind you and you turn around with a blank face at Ryusei.

“And who’s asking?” You retort back as he laughs a little.

“Who else, me of course.” He says as he teasingly flicks you on your forehead before leaving you alone.

It’s not the first time shidou ryusei is all over you asking inappropriate questions. The reason why he isn’t stopping is cause he knows you’re enjoying what he’s doing to you. You like the attention he gives you, the words he tells you and the small touches you get.

Now that you’re finally giving in to his words, mouth moving against his own, pinned against the lockers in the boys changing room, he doesn’t go far. His hands are strictly on your hips, kneading your waist on your bare skin after his hands slipped under your shirt.

“Ryu, i want more.” You whine against his lips as he chuckles lightly into the kiss. He pulls away to press soft kisses on your jaw, nips on your sweet spot behind your ear, before trailing lower to press down kisses at the base of your neck. “Next time, pretty girl.” At his words you start to shake your head.

“I want it now.” You pout, feeling needy and bratty. You feel him press his hips closer against yours, rubbing his bulge against you. You softly gasp at the feeling as he flashes you a grin while gently holding your face, tracing his thumb down your cheek, softly pulling on the corners of your lips. His eyes flickers from your eyes to lips a few times until you speak up.

“Do you wanna see my panties?” You ask softly, knowing that’s what he want by the sound of how his breath hitches and how he was swallowing air. He adjusts his footing while licking his lower lip, then he starts shaking his head.

“No I don’t wanna see it.” He is lying. Of course he wants to see them. See how sticky they are, the wet spot from how much you’ve been creaming them. He wants to do it so badly but something is stopping him.

“Ryu, don’t lie.” Now it’s your time to hold his face gently. You tip his head up while brushing your lips against his jaw.

“Don’t you wanna see how wet you made me?” You mumble against his jaw, brushing past it to softly kiss him on his pulse point as you feel him hold your neck, softly squeezing it when you start nipping on the skin there. You squeeze your thighs around his waist tighter, pulling you against him even closer if possible.

“I thought you wanted to see what panties I’m wearing,” you start, hearing him let out a shuddering breath when you gently tug on his earlobe with your teeth. “feel how wet I am.” You whisper by his ear when he lets out a low groan. Then he almost roughly tugs on your hair which has you flash him a triumphant grin.

“You’re testing me now, pretty girl. You don’t want that do you?” He asks while sliding his hands down your abdomen, before slipping them down below your skirt. You gasp when you feel his hand, cold to the touch, on your cunt and he just holds you there.

“I’m trying to stop myself from going further cause you’re..” he stops suddenly before speaking up. “Actually I don’t know why I was stop myself.” He shrugs before flicking his finger over your clit, making you let out a stuttering gasp.

“Asshole.” You let out before moaning when he slides in a finger inside you. “Come up with a better name to call me, doll.” He mutters as he kisses on your throat while pumping his finger inside you, before slipping in a second one leaving a choked gasp slip past your mouth.

“Always dreamed about how your pussy feel would feel, if you’d squeeze on my fingers, if you’d get this wet like you are now.” He curls his fingers inside you and you squeeze your thighs around him, clamping down on his fingers.

“Jerked myself off at the thought of your panties pushed aside, slick with my cum after I’d just fucked you.” He confesses, his words shooting a rush up your body and you moan. You whimper when you feel him pull his fingers out and frown when he grins at you. He pulls his fingers aside, leaving a string of your slick between them.

“Would you taste as good as you feel?” He asks as you gasp when he puts his fingers in his mouth, licking them up. He groans as you see his eyes almost roll back at the taste. “You taste so good, pretty girl.” He moans before putting his fingers in your mouth. You slightly choke around his fingers, which has him grinning widely.

“Oh, I didn’t save anything for you to taste.” His lips changes shape so fast, he is now mockingly pouting in regret. “Asshole.” You mutter softly, he lightly shushes you by putting the same fingers on your lips.

“But,” he pulls his fingers away to hold onto your hips. “I get to finally put my cock inside your pretty pussy.” He says enthusiastically, as he pulls his football shorts down along with his boxers before pulling his cock out. He smirks when he sees how your eyes lightens up in joy and excitement at the sight of it.

“Always thought about how you would feel around me, dreamed about it. Even thought about pulling your skirt down to get a feel every time you wore one.” He tells you and you wrap your arms around his neck, lightly kissing his lips.

“You get to feel it now.” You mumble against his lips. “I do.” He shortly says in relief before you feel the tip of his cock slide, leaving you gasping. Just by the tip along, it’s a strong intrusion and the more he slides in, the more you feel like you’re full of him and him only.

“Ryu, I feel so full.” You managed to say between your choked gasps, as you rest your face in the crook of his neck. You hear him chuckle. “Are you fully inside yet?” Your voice was so soft and quiet, Shidou wants to bottom out and thrust inside already. He’s being nice enough to let you get adjusted to his size.

“Just a little bit.” A light content groan slips from his mouth when he finally bottoms out. “You’re so tight, pretty. Could’ve come just by that along.” He mutters as he presses kisses down the side of your neck.

“But that wouldn’t be fun.” He says before he pulls out and slides back in a blink of an eye and you let out a choked cry as he moans in delight. He continues pound into you, hitting your every spot and the tip kissing your cervix every time. You cling onto Shidou tighter, biting down on his shoulder the more he thrusts inside you, which stimulates him even more as he lets out a low happy grunt.

“You feel so good, pretty girl. So good, could fuck you without getting tired.” His thrusts are getting a little rougher, your back hurting against the locker harder but the pain is pushed aside the more Shidou fucks you.

“Feel so good, ryu.” You let out a sweet little cry and Shidou almost felt like he got heart eyes at the sound. He loves it and the more he hears it when he pounds into you, he can feel himself getting closer. By how you’re clamping down around his cock, he knows you’re getting closer too.

“Are you close, pretty?” His voice is raspy as he asks you. You pull your head away from his neck and nod your head. When he hits a certain point, your head falls back and you feel certain knot in your body. You turn to look at Shidou. His face is warm when you touch it, his forehead sweaty with his hair clinging to it and he looks absolutely ethereal in your eyes. His eyes almost full of excitement as he looks at you.

“You’re pretty, ryu.” And Shidou hits one last thrust in you, coming over the edge at your words. He lets out a languid moan as he paints your walls white and he feels your thighs tremble by his hips as you get to your edge as well.

He looks at your state and you’re glowing in his eyes. Your hairs messy, there’s tear streaks on your face. He touches your face, seeing you lean into it and he loves it. He wipes away the tear streaks with his thumb and licks it.

“It’s salty.” He simply says making you giggle, which has him grinning widely. “Of course it’s salty, ryu. It’s tears.” You continue to giggle but get cut off by his lips on yours.

“Might fuck you more if you keep on giggling.” Safe to say, you continued to giggle.

—

if this made no sense it’s cause I wrote it with my eyes closed fr kiki you better have enjoyed this smh

if you made it this far a like, reblog and feedback would be incredibly appreciated

#blue lock shidou #blue lock scenarios #blue lock smut #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #shidou smut #shidou x reader #shidou ryusei #shidou ryusei smut #shidou ryusei imagines #shidou ryusei scenarios #shidou scenarios #shidou imagines #blue lock shidou ryusei #blue lock

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twsted-time · 1 year

Text

Overblot bois vs dirty songs

How will the overblot bois react to their girlfriend listening (and dancing to dirty songs from her world.

CW: face fucking on Leona’s part. Established relationships. Mention of malleus having two cocks

Riddle:

Song: hips don’t lie

Face turns red immediately

You can’t tell if his embarrassed or angry

Collars you for being immoral (if you are in public)

If not he just scolds you for listening to such things.

Would forbid you to listen to them again.

“W-Why are you listening to something like that!?” He stuttered. “It’s a song from my world.” You whined. “A-Are all songs from your world this… dirty…” he trailed off. You shook your head. “No but there are worse out there.”

Leona

Song:MONTERO

Wonders why you woke him up.

When he sees how you are dancing to the song as well as listening to the lyrics he decides to just watch you.

Till you make a motion to the lyrics “Shot a child in your mouth while I’m riding”

Suddenly you don’t even to get finish the song as you are pushed to your knees with Leona infront of you.

You can barely breathe with the rough pass Leona had set thrusting into your throat. “Hah.. if you wanted to swallow my cum herbivore. You could hav said so. “ he panted out as his hands gripped your hair.

Azul:

Song: Daisy (don’t ask I wanna save some of the others for later)

Is appalled by how vulgar the song starts.

Then is also a bit put off by. How much the song curses.

Till it starts “I’m crazy but you like that. I bite back, daisies on your night stand”

He can’t help but watch how your hips move.

Is very glad you two are the only ones in the vip room

“My pearl must you move like that?” He asked trying not to look up at you by fake focusing on his contracts. You smile and wink at him before just continuing to dance. Managing to catch his gaze every now and then with a huge blush on his face.

Jamil

Song: candy shop

Is horrified at first

But his eyes can’t help but drift to your hips

Kinda realize the lyrics aren’t about candy

Try not to get too sexual with the song.

Right as you bend over hand over your pussy when the female voice goes ‘keep going till you hit the spot’ you feel his hand on your back. “My desert flower… I would very much appreciate it if you didn’t do that. You try to stand up but his hand is pushing on your back. “Jamil…” you could hear him groan a bit. Then you knew you were in for a long night.

Vil

Song: unholy

Shakes his head.

Can’t help but watch you through the mirror of his vanity.

Curses under his breath in German tho mostly can hide how you are effecting him.

Till you drop down and back up hands lifting up your hair. Fluffing up and push out your hips.

You find yourself pinned to his bed. “V-Vil?” You call out his name. “Du bist ein ungezogenes Mädchen... hoffen wir, dass deine Beine halten können” your lover spoke in his native tongue. Your eyes widened as he said. You knew exactly what you were in for that night.

Idia

Song: S&M

He was trying to play his game why must you distract him.

His hair turning pink gave him away to tell you what you wer doing was working.

Had to turn his mic off.

Ultimately ended up losing turning his chair around right on time to see you bent over ass facing him as you slowly begain to rise up.

Idia got up from. Having an unknown burst of what you could could call. Brat taming energy. Suddenly getting knocked off your feet with your usually shy boyfriend on top of you. “Y/N… I hope you are prepared to face the consequences for making me lose that match.” The night was filled with edging and overstimulation. Crying out that it was too much, but him telling you that you could take it.

Malleus

Song: spiritual healing

When he first hears the name he doesn’t think much I’ve it.

When the real song starts he looks confused then he watches your movements.

At “the way she suck my soul I need some spiritual healing.” He watched how your hips moved.

Malleus placed his hands on your hips and you could feel his hard cocks against your thigh. “Child of man. You should know better then to rile me up like that…” Your eye widened. “Safe word?” He asked. “Strawberry” he nodded. “Good” and that was the last thing you remember

#twst vil schoenheit x reader #disney twst #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #idia shroud smut #vil schoenheit smut #malleus draconia smut #leona kingscholar smut #jamil viper #jamil viper smut #jamil viper x reader

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chaotic-mystery · 6 months

Text

Dark Angel | J.M.

Joel Miller x afab!reader

summary: Joel's too soft on you and he finally let's you see the real him.

warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI! porn w a tiny speck of plot, implied age gap, unprotected p in v, vanilla sex gone bad, choking, spitting, oral (both m & f receiving) loads of pet names (you and Joel both refer to him as daddy, pet, baby girl, little girl, slut, stupid, etc etc) playing with rope, bound to the headboard, breath-play, begging x100, rough nasty sexy time, slight arguing, nipple play/smacking, possessive!Joel, face fucking, cum eating/play, swearing, dirty talk, no physical description of reader other than having hair Joel can grab a fistful of and yank. NO USE OF Y/N (let me know if I've missed any.)

| word count: 2.5k | notif blog | main masterlist |

Getting it through Joel’s thick head that you weren’t made of glass and he could be a little rough on you was a job cut out for you. He was always gentle, too gentle at times. Like one time, you had to beg him to spank you while you were on top riding his cock, and he fought you so hard on it. He was scared he was going to hurt you, his sweet baby. Joel always asked if what he was doing was okay, if you were in pain, and as always you had to respond upset at the fact you weren’t in a little bit of pain.

With the growing frustration of not getting handled how you wanted, you figure now was the best time for you to get your way, to see what he was hiding deep inside himself. As usual, Joel was on top of you between your legs with his arms on either side of your head to hold himself up, trying to get inside you just right so he didn’t have to contort your body so much. “God, baby I missed you so much.” He panted as he slid inside you, slowly thrusting and asked if it felt okay.

A grin grew across your lips and you wrap your arms around his neck, looking him deeply in his eyes. “Baby, would you maybe choke me? I like that, ya know. I think it’d feel go-”

“No, sweetheart, I-I don’t wanna hurt’cha. A pretty lil angel like you is into that kinda stuff?” Joel’s caught off guard but not enough to stop moving his hips back and forth.

“Yeah, honey. I like that, it’s easy…see, I’ll show you..” Your hand moves down to his neck, giving a tender squeeze, the thrill of maybe getting somewhere with him had rushed straight to between your thighs.

Joel groans in irritation, grabbing your wrist to pin it above your head.

“Baby, c’mon, don’t ruin what we got goin’ on right now. I’m sorry I just don’t wanna hurt you.” He protests and stops his hips from moving but doesn’t take himself out of you.

You roll your eyes at him and shake your head, groaning to cut him off.

“Joel, all I’m asking is for a little bit of a squeeze, not for you to take the air from my windpipe…you did it once before and you’ve never done it again. Why?”

An aggravated sigh falls from his lips and he sits up on the corner of the bed with his hand running along the nape of his neck. “Can we not talk about it, please?”

Why was he running away from talking about this? He wouldn’t even have a conversation about it without shutting down on you.

“Why, Joel? Why not? Stop running from this and just talk to me, I’m not made of glass you know.”

The room falls silent and you tug the thin grey sheet up under your arms, your eyes grazing over Joel’s naked back, his muscles flexing every few seconds.

“I did it once, I was a little rough with you, seeing how much you liked it…it scared me. It scared me knowing how much I liked seeing you whimper and cry, beggin’ me to stop spankin’ your ass because it hurt.”

Joel’s back tensed as he finished muttering his sentence.

This whole time he’s been burying who he really was inside, not wanting you to see how fucked up he really is.

“Jus’..unlocked a whole new way for me to imagine you. Absolutely hopeless and willing to do anything I say or want.”

Hopeless and willing to do anything.

Sitting up and pressing your chest against his back, you hooked your arm around his neck and hugged him, kissing the nape and crook of his neck slowly at first but it turned hungry and desperate in a matter of moments.

“Would you like that, Joel? Clawing at your body to get your cock inside me like a needy little slut?” The words purred against his soft skin made him groan in excitement.

He turned to you, cupping your face gently as he spoke calmly, “do you want me to show you that side of me, baby? I just need to know you won’t hate me afterwards, especially if I hurt you a little too much..”

With Joel’s thumb rubbing your cheek softly, you turn to kiss the inside of his palm.

“Joel, I could never hate you. Show me the real you, daddy.” The words poured from your lips and they were like beautiful string ballads to his ears.

“Are you 100% sure?”

You place your hand on his and nod softly.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything until you.”

Joel gave you a warm smile and without any hesitation, he grabbed your neck roughly and tossed you on your back, sinking into the sea of pillows and blankets.

With every harsh grab at your legs to get you right where he wanted you, he grunted lowly and soon enough he had that devilish smirk you once knew.

“Stay there, be a good pet for me.” A sloppy kiss was pressed to your cheek and Joel dips out of the bedroom, going downstairs for what felt like forever. You could feel your thighs collecting your sticky arousal and it takes every ounce of willpower you have not to touch your aching cunt.

He was back before you could act on your thoughts and in his hands was a bundle of rope, worn and tattered but still strong enough for what he needed it to do.

“D’ya know how many times I’ve thought about tying your ass up and just takin’ you however I wanted? Punishin’ you for that smart fuckin’ mouth you got on ya and the way you think you can talk to me sometimes, the way you wanna argue when you think you’re right and you aren’t.”

Joel’s hands carefully tie your wrists to the headboard and he pulls hard when he makes the knots, small groans escape from him as he does.

He leans back down close to your face as he holds himself up above your body. You can feel his hard cock against the inside of your thigh and all you can think about is how you need him inside you before you explode.

“I know I’m gonna enjoy every single second of this sweet girl… just like I know you will too.” Joel grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back so you have no choice but to look him in the eye and he grins at your slight pain, kissing your forehead before he trails down your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin to elicit whimpers from you.

Joel’s mouth finds your left nipple and like a magnet he takes the hard bud in his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue against it roughly. Your eyes watch him the entire time and your brows furrow in such pleasure, meanwhile Joel’s are peacefully shut as he’s groaning against the pillowy flesh of your tits as he swirled his tongue around your overly sensitive nipple like it's a toy.

Fuck. You were his toy until he was done with you.

“J-Joel-please I need you baby, please.” You were lifting your hips up in his direction to try and get any sort of friction you can against his cock.

Joel’s eyes shoot open and his strong hand snatches your jaw tightly, your nipple popping from his mouth as he squints at you.

“You need daddy’s cock in you that bad, sweetheart?” He coos at you, shaking your jaw a little.

With furrowed brows you nod eagerly at him, muttering yes over and over again.

A glimmer in Joel’s eyes makes your heart race even more than it was, you could practically feel it in your throat.

“Beg for it, little girl.”

Whimpers fly from your parted lips as you muster enough energy to beg him, your wrists tugging harshly at the restraints.

“Please, fuck me-ah-I need you, I need you to fill up my tight pussy and have your way with me until you’re done using me, daddy.”

You swear Joel’s brown eyes shift to pitch black as you whine more and squirm.

“Mmmm, you make it hard to say no to you.”

Joel reaches down and takes two of his thick fingers and forcefully rushes them inside your dripping entrance, looking for your g-spot he was no stranger to.

His eyes fall heavy as he watches your face flush with ecstasy, your mind seeing stars and planets and everything else he was keeping you from for so long.

You were stuttering and moaning for him to go faster and instead, he replaced his fingers with his cock, hitting that spongey piece of flesh harshly.

Your back arched off the bed and he chuckled at you, wrapping his arm around you to hold you against him. Your top half draped over his arm and his mouth finds your nipple once more, lapping at it while he pounds into you.

“Fuck baby-ugh- you feel so good wrapped around my cock like that, stretchin’ your tight little hole out. Tell me who this pussy belongs to, honey. Go on…say it.” He growls and bites your nipple, his groans vibrating on your skin.

“I-it belongs to you, daddy. Fuck- this is your pussy I swear, no one’s ever fucked me the way you have, never. I’m all yours daddy, always.” You could hardly get all your words out before Joel laid you back down, grabbing your hips to lift you up a tad and ram his cock right into you.

With the bed frame bumping the wall, it only made him want to go harder and faster to see if he could put a hole in the spot it was hitting.

“No one is ever gonna fuck you again, you got that? You are mine. Once I’m done with you, you won’t be able to even think about anything else, just worried about the next time my dick will be buried in this sweet little pussy that belongs to me.”

No one had ever been this possessive with you before. Joel had his moments of the occasional man looking at you and him threatening to beat the guy up, but it didn’t even come close to this.

“Daddy I’m-ooh, ssshit-I love y-”

You were cut off by Joel’s hand letting go of your hip and gripping your neck roughly, squeezing so hard you had to stop talking to focus on breathing correctly. His hips pound against the back of your thighs as he squeezes tighter, chuckling lowly as he could see the air slipping further and further from your lungs, the vein in your forehead protruding the harder he applies pressure.

“My sweet little slut, beg me for your life.” As Joel’s eyes look into yours, the corner of his pink lips curl into a sly grin, what a sick fuck.

The tightness on your windpipe made it damn near impossible to choke out the words he wanted to hear, the sobs he was impatiently waiting on.

With tears in your eyes you were so fucked out and unable to glue words together that there was not a syllable coming from your windpipe, just raspy squeaks and moans.

“Didn’t think you could, stupid little girl. Look at’cha. So willing to get this old man to do whatever he wants, don’t even care if you fuckin’ pass out.” A harsh slap to your nipple with Joel’s freehand was enough to make you gasp deeply, your lungs puffing up again.

The burning ball of pressure was deep inside your stomach and you wanted to come so badly, to scream his name so loud everyone would know who was fucking you.

“Fuck baby, you squeeze me so good, makes me wanna come inside ya. Would you want that, honey? Full of my cum to the brim and make you carry my babies?” Joel’s balls smack against you and his groans almost cover the sound but it's still faint and noticeable.

You stopped struggling to get your arms free and your legs wrap around Joel’s waist as you start to shake and come all over him. You sob as your orgasm makes you feel so animalistic, like you can’t control yourself.

All Joel does is go harder, forcing you to feel everything inside and out. His hands run all over your body while his cock rams into you. He’s amazed by you, so enamored the way you sob and shake and beg for him to stop.

“What’s that baby girl? You want me to stop?” He rhetorically asks before slipping out of your pussy with a groan and his tongue latching onto your clit instantly. He sucks your clit into his mouth and moans as he shakes his head from side to side.

“Joooel! Ple-ase please please st-top!” You cry out, your throbbing clit so telling you’re about to come again. Joel licks your clit mercilessly before spitting on it and comes back to your lips, his beard coated in your sweet slick.

Wet kisses of slick and spit cover your mouth and tongue and you can’t get enough. You lick inside his mouth and all over his tongue, getting every last bit of you from him.

“Open your mouth.” He murmurs on your puffy lips and gets off you, standing on the side of the bed, grabbing the top of your head forcefully to turn your face towards him.

“Fill that smart ass mouth with my cock, since you always wanna run it. Well now I’m gonna fill it.” His hands on his hips await you to put his cock in your mouth without hands and the growl Joel lets out when he feels your lips wrap around him.

You moan on him and move back and forth causing his knees to lock and move closer towards you, slightly fucking your face.

“Such a pretty baby while you suck on me like that- fuck, sweet girl.” Joel sucks in air through his teeth as his cock twitches, his hips dip slightly and before you can pull away, Joel’s coming in your mouth. The slightly salty liquid pooled in your mouth as Joel jerked himself off until every last drop was gone. He bends down slowly and closes your mouth for you, pressing your jaw up so you can’t open it.

“Swallow it all like the good girl I know you can be for daddy.” He gets close enough to lick what little was dribbling from the corner of your lips and with watery eyes you look at him and swallow hard.

Joel’s hand pulls down your jaw slightly and you smirk as you stick out your tongue to show it's all gone. His tongue finds yours once more and you moan in each other's mouth, so drunk on lust and love.

“You’ve been holding all of that back from me?” You joke and Joel’s head drops with a chuckle.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller #chaotic-mystery #joel miller fic #joel smut #daddy joel #joel miller x afab!reader #joel x reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #the last of us #hbo the last of us #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller pedro pascal

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tootiecakes234 · 5 months

Text

The Bet (Part 4)

Warnings: smut(MDNI)

Reader’s POV

I couldn't believe my ears. There's no way I heard him correctly, but when I turned around there he was. On one knee looking me like he was in shock. He couldn't believe he'd said it either.

"Can you repeat that?"

“I said please. Now get your ass over here.”

You could not in any way shape or form stop the self satisfied grin that took over your face.

You’d won! You’d fucking won a bet against the famous Great Explosion Murder God: Dynamight!

“Y/N you’ve got 3 seconds to wipe that fucking smile off your face. You’re gonna make my dick get soft.”, he said while standing up straight.

“You know I never thought it would work. I can’t believe you caved. Our friends are geniuses!”, you said while walking over to him.

“What the hell does that mean?”, he asked you and stopped you short before you could reach him.

“Well I may have gotten some tips and tricks on how to seduce you from Mina….. and….. and Izuku….”, you whispered the names off to him.

“What… the fuck do you mean?”, there was a feral lilt to his voice that kinda scared you.

“Well Mina helped me with the look you know and Izuku was giving advice on how to go about seducing you…. He actually knows more about you than I do. It was wild how accurate his assumptions were…. Hey Kat can you say something?? You’re scaring me…” you said softly as if you were nervous any loud sounds might set him off.

“You told Mina and Izuku about our bet! And then you “seduced” me based on Deku’s advice!?! Y/N tell me you’re joking right now?!

“Ok well Katsuki you always win these things and I- I just wanted t- to…. Kat… oh fuck.”

You saw him coming toward you but there was nowhere for you to run. Now your hands are pinned above your head in one of his and his other is tilting your chin to look up at him.

“K-“, you started but then his hand was around your throat.

“You’re done talking. Understand me?”

He left 0 room for negotiation so you nodded your head and kept quiet.

You felt his lips brush against your ear and it sent a shiver down your spine before he spoke “You wanted me to break so bad and I did. Congrats….. but now,” he pressed 2 kisses on your neck before he finished, “it’s my turn to break you.”

He leaned back and you could see the gleam in his eyes.

It’s also at this point you realize maybe you should’ve worn panties cuz you were throbbing between your legs and you just might start leaking down your thighs.

He took you by the hand and walked over to his desk.

“Up.” He helped you hop up on his desk and then get sat back in his chair.

“Take that shirt off”

You quickly strip the shirt off and now you’re sitting on his desk naked and mute.

“Fucking missed this” he said as he splayed his hands on the underside of your thighs. He pulled his hands apart and in turn pulled your pussy lips apart putting all of you on display for him.

“Did you miss me?”he was looking up at you expectantly.

“Yea ‘suki. Missed you so much.” You were breathless and already breathing a little hard.

“ Can fucking tell. Pussy fucking dripping for me.” He mumbled before he leaned forward and placed a singular kiss against your clit. He then proceeded to place sloppy kisses up both of your thighs.

“Katsuki… please.”, you whimpered. He was teasing and the way you felt right now, you didn’t want to be teased

“Please what? Use you damn words.”

“You told me to stop talking now, now it’s “use your words”

“Yea and you still spoke without being spoken to…. Maybe I should leave you like this. Make you watch me while I jack off to your spread out for me. Is that what you want?”, his voice was stern and you knew he meant it.

“No. No ‘m sorry. Please, wanna watch you eat me til I come.”

“Huh… it sounds like you’re begging me now. That was fast.” , he chucked a little with a smirk planted on his beautiful face.

He moves he hand over your cunt and smacks it, “ngh, fuck”

Your head was thrown back and your eyes were squeezed shut.

“Look at me and count. We’re going to 7, first one doesn’t count.”

You straighten up to look at him and his hand is already slapping against you again.

“1”smack “ugh…2” smack smack “kat slow down, 3 & 4”

But then he was pressing a finger to your entrance and sliding it up inside you. You immediately clench around him. His face is pure concentration. Likes he’s looking for every movement, every noise.

“Mmm you can take another.” And then he pulling out the first finger and immediately slipping it into his mouth. The groan that leaves his lips has you pussy gushing.

His eyes flicked up to yours and he smiled. “Don’t be jealous. Here ya go.” He slid his finger back through your slick and then slid it into your mouth.

You made a show of licking it clean. He slipped a second one into your mouth as well before pulling them out and immediately pressing them into your cunt while they were still wet.

He set a nice little pace and you were already so tightly wound that you could feel yourself getting close. He curled his fingers and he was sitting right up against the spongy spot in front of you.

You were panting and leaking onto his desk.

“K-k ‘m close. Ngh.”

But then he’s pulling his fingers out and smacking them against you again.

“Count before I start over.”

“Kaaaatttt. Don’t be like this. You’re being mean.”

“You ain’t seen mean. Now count.”

It took you a minute to remember where you were in your count. “5” you were fully pouting now.

If this is what he calls getting even then you could bare it. Maybe. You really wanted to cum.

Smack “6”

“You’re making a mess on my desk.” And then was bending his head down and licking at you.

“Oh fuck. Yes, Kat yes.”

He was really going to town. Moaning and groaning into you.

What you couldn’t see is that his dick was out and he was stroking to you. Leaking precum all over his fingers.

You were close again but you refused to say it out loud in hopes you’d finish before he had a chance to stop.

He still knew though. You were right there and your moans were getting louder and more out of control.

He pulls his mouth away from you and all you can do is whine.

The entire lower half of his face was shimmering cuz he was covered in you. Katsuki was always a sloppy eater but he’d kicked it up a notch.

“You ready to apologize for running yer mouth?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I actually won’t even speak to our friends again. Ever. Please baby.” You were babbling. You’d say whatever you had to if he let you finish.

“Mmmm I don’t think I believe you. How you gonna prove it to me?” He was sitting back in his chair now with his hand wrapped around his dick slowly pumping it. It was purple around the head like he was ready to burst at any minute. He wasn’t just edging you, he was edging himself too. Sick.

“Let me wrap my lips around you cock ‘suki. I wanna taste you too.”

He lifted his hips and slid his pants the rest of the way down and pulled his shirt up over his head. His muscles were flexing and all you could think about was how hot your boyfriend was. So hot and all yours.

“Come here pretty girl.” You hopped down from his desk and walked between his legs. “Down on your knees” you got down and you could smell the musk coming off his him. You could clearly see the pre dripping down. He was making just as big of a mess as you.

“Do a good job and I might let you come on my dick after mkay.” He said and you could see his jaw flexing.

You nodded at him and he relaxed back into his chair while you got to work.

You started with cleanup. Licking up all the precum that had dribbled down his balls and his shaft. Then you paid good attention to the head. Suckling on it and he was groaning with his head tilted upward so you stopped.

“Eyes on me”, his eyes opened and focused on you immediately.

“Ngh… y- you givin orders n-now.”

“You’re right,” you said placing a kiss on the underside of him, “eyes on me please…” and you gave him pleading look.

“Bett-fuuuuccckk”

You took him all the way down your throat and swallowed around him. You stayed down on him until you had to come up for air.

Katsuki lifted his hand and ran it through his hair. “Shit”

You continued to lick him and moved a hand down to massage his balls underneath. “So sorry Kat” slurp, “gonna make it up to you.”

And you went to work doing exactly that. Sloppily licking and sucking at him. Kissing up and down his shaft.

His hands were gripping the handles of the chair trying to hold back from cumming down your throat.

The next thing you know his hand is in your hair and pulling you off of him. He brings your lips directly up to his and starts devouring you.

He starts pushing you backwards so he can stand up. Your arms around his shoulders and one of your hands in his hair.

He ends up backing you up against his desk before grabbing your thighs and lifting you up onto it. You immediately wrap your legs around his hips. His cock is rubbing up against your slit and he’s pressing kisses all over you.

“Put me inside you y/n”, he moaned up against your ear. You squeezed your hand in between the two of you and lined him up with your entrance and he slid smoothly up inside you one long stroke.

You were both so needy and worked up by this point that everything was uncoordinated and messy. Just doing whatever you could to get there. Kissing everywhere touching everywhere. Whimpering and moaning.

Katsuki always got so whiny when he got close to cumming. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer so he slips his hand between you and rubs at your clit with his thumb.

“Cum for me. Wanna feel y-you cum for me.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. It feels like your entire body was launched into a different atmosphere. Your orgasm was so strong your ears were ringing. Your nails are buried in Katsuki’s back and your toes are curled.

It takes a few minutes to come back down to reality.

The first thing you hear is Katsuki chuckling. You open your eyes and he’s smiling at you.

“Wh- what’s so funny”, you ask him.

“You look blissed out. Your mouth was open and everything”, he told you.

“Wow. That’s embarrassing” you mumble with a small grin starting to form on your lips.

He gave a few more quick kisses before telling you, “no more sex bets. You always come up with the dumbest ideas.”

“What the hell do you mean?? That was you idea!”

“Yeah but you agreed to it, And that was a dumb thing to do.” He started pulling you off of his desk. “Come on, let’s go take a bath.”

“Don’t you think we should maybe wipe down or something in here. You desk is a bit of a mess.”

“Not tonight. I’m gonna have to come in here and deep clean this whole room tomorrow” and you giggled at him because you knew he was right.

You guys spend the rest of the night making up for lost time.

*you told Mina about the bet the day you guys agreed to it and she told the entirety of your friends about it.

turns out there was a bet made between your friends and deku put his bet on day 2 with bakugo folding. This is why he volunteered the advice.

Everyone had Katsuki folding first but the days varied.

Deku won $2000 from his win. Split it with you for doing the “heavy lifting”

Tags: @sleepyyhabii @maddietries

#imagine #bakugou x reader #mha fanfiction #bakugou drabble #drabble #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo headcanons #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugo

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littlexscarletxwitch · 3 months

Note

Hi, would you be able to do a mutual pining yelena x avenger!reader kinda thing where yelena has been ignoring reader because she doesn’t know to how to deal with her feelings and when reader confronts her, yelena admits that she likes her? Mainly angst with fluff at the end if possible. Love your fics!!

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗶 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂

paring: yelena belova x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, some angst, mutual pinning, nat being the big sis

warning(s): yel having a hard time admitting her feelings, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.8k

note: Soooooo sorry it took me soooo long to post this. I FUCKING LOVED THIS REQUEST btw. Also guys, it's taking me so long to post fic because a) my laptop is just a bitch and won't work, and b) I guess I'm going through a writer's block and it's kinda hard to find the motivation to write. But I'll try my best. Lots of love, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

Your legs were sore, you couldn't feel your arms anymore and you were gasping for air, but it wasn’t over until one of you was down.

“Can’t we take a break?” you whined out as you tried dodging Yelena’s fist but still made contact with your body and you groaned out in pain.

“Focus, Y/n,” Steve called out, before Yelena would punch again.

You knew she was holding back, measuring her strength, she always would when training with you. And you didn’t know if you found that reassuring or mocking. You kicked her in the stomach, but it still did not affect her, it was quite the opposite really.

“That’s all you got?”

“Why? Wanna try something else?” you teasingly said while winking at her.

You got her off guard, she wasn’t expecting your cocky self to show up while training, and seized the moment to swift her off her feet and got on top of her.

“Was this what you had in mind?”

Your hands quickly found her wrists while your body pressed into her abdomen pushing her down so she wouldn’t get out of your hold.

“Okay, I think it’s enough,” Steve called out, sensing you had gone off track.

Both you and Yelena knew that she could easily get out of your hold, but still it took her two minutes to do so. You didn’t want to let her go that easily, you felt your whole body burning just by the thought of her skin against yours, still you stood up and got on moving before the two of you could have a say on what just had happened.

That was how it always went with Yelena, one moment you had the courage to openly flirt with her and a second later you would run back to your dorm second guessing the whole interaction. You wanted to do more, each and every time, but she was so nonchalant about you flirting with her that you convinced yourself that it was just that, a flirty friendship.

And most of the time you were okay with it, playing dumb about your own feelings. But then shit like that would happen, you would brush her skin, or would make her laugh, or just look at her, and the thought of a friendship would fly out of your mind. That was why you would lock up in your room, trying to calm and persuade yourself to not let your stupid feelings get in the way.

And the same stupid thing would happen to Yelena, which you didn’t know about.

“You want to talk about it?” Yelena heard her sister's voice as she watched you heading out the training room.

“I wasn’t holding back, I swear.”

“Not about your punching,” she raised her brow at her little sister.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Yelena shrugged it off as she grabbed her bottle of water and took a big sip.

“Lena, I know you,” Natasha took advantage of the fact that her sister was chugging down water. “I know we don’t do feelings, we don’t trust people. But that was the old us, that was the red room. We have to put that shitty part of our lives behind us for good.”

“And I have,” Yelena scoffed.

“Then why haven't you done something about it?” Yelena knew her sister meant you, she didn’t have to clarify. “At least, give it a go,” Natasha sighed. “If not for you, then for her.”

“She doesn’t—.”

“You never know, Lena. Neither will she, if you don’t tell her,” and with that Natasha left her sister to her own thoughts.

“Suka,” she mumbled under her breath, because Natasha was right. She was always right about everything, it was the power that came with being a big sister—her big sister—, and she hated it when she was right.

She knew she had to do something about it, about you. But the fear of rejection, of feeling unwanted felt too much to bear. She wasn’t going to open up her heart just for someone else to crush it. But maybe, just maybe she could trust you not to crush it.

[...]

Still, it was easier said than done. It took her a full week to finally come to the conclusion that she was, actually, madly in love with you. A week full of stress and anxiety because deep down she felt like she didn’t deserve to have these feelings towards you.

And now that she knew exactly how she felt about you, it fucking terrified her. So she did what she thought was best and put some space in between the two of you. The thought of you clouded her brain and it was starting to affect her line of work, and she couldn’t have that. Being part of the avengers gave her life meaning, and she was not going to let her stupid feelings ruin that for her. Even though she wanted to be close to you, and just melt into your arms.

Of course, her coldness didn’t go unnoticed by you. You were confused, though. It wasn’t like Yelena to just shut you out. Even though you wanted more than just a friendship out of her, you wanted to consider yourself a friend of hers and it hurt that she was just avoiding you.

You didn’t know what was going on, she just felt out of your reach. You asked her sister about it, she just told you to give her space and she would be okay, before muttering something under her breath and went on with her day. You asked Kate and she just completely avoided the topic and changed the subject.

The more she didn’t talk to you, not even glance at your direction, the more you felt like you had done something wrong, maybe she had found out about your feelings and now she was avoiding you because of them. She probably felt uncomfortable about them, she probably wanted nothing to do with you. And who were you to decide otherwise?

You talked to Steve, making sure to not have more training lessons with her, only to find out she had already asked the same thing. You knew it was stupid to feel as if your heart was breaking since you wanted the same thing, but it did feel like shattering to pieces. You just nodded, a tight smile finding its way to your lips and went to your room before shedding any tears.

This whole thing was bullshit. Yes, maybe she didn’t feel the same way you did about her. But the both of you were full grown-ups, you should be professional about it and act like nothing had happened. Because in reality it didn’t, not that you were aware of it. So you decided that you were going to give her a piece of your mind.

You searched for her throughout the entire building and finally found her in the training room. Of course she was there, you should have thought of coming there earlier.

For a trained assassin she didn’t notice your presence, too caught up in her own mind, focusing on her breathing and throwing punches at the boxing bag.

You cleared your throat. “Got a minute?”

She looked over her shoulder, finally acknowledging you there, and you swore you watched as her whole body just tensed up by the sound of your voice.

“I’m kinda busy right now,” she mumbled before throwing two more punches.

“It won’t take long,” you insisted, wanting to get this over with.

“Look, I really need to—.”

You cut her off. “I don’t know who told you or how you found out, but yes, it’s true, okay?” you finally got her attention. “I just thought you would be professional enough to not let this get in the way and pretend like nothing happened. Which is what I also wish for.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You avoiding me,” you quickly mumbled, a tint of concussion in your tone. “I get it, but let’s just put this behind us and act like propper adults.”

“No, I’m aware of that part,” she scoffed, embarrassed to admit to you what she had been up to. “What I mean is, what have I found out?”

Your brows furrowed. “About my… me… and you,” you gave yourself a second to think her words through. “Hold on a second, you don’t know?”

“What don’t I know?”

“You don’t,” you finally added two plus two and realised that Yelena had no recollection whatsoever about your feelings, but still something was off. “Why have you been avoiding me then?”

You watched her as her mouth opened and closed, searching for the right words.

“What did I ever do to you for you to completely avoid me, huh?”

“You did nothing, I just…”

“You just what?” you scoffed, now anger filling your tone. “You just decided it was fun to ignore me?”

“No! God, no.”

“Then what is it?!” the two of you were pretty much screaming at each other.

“Because I like you, damn it!” she finally confessed. “Is it so hard to see?”

Your eyes winded. “You like me? You have been avoiding me because you like me?”

“I know, not my brightest moment. But it's just that you… you just…” she gestured to her brain. “You’re just stuck here, and I can’t get you out. At first I was scared to admit my own feelings to myself,” she took a deep breath. “But then Tasha said something and it made me realise that there’s nothing wrong with having feelings. But then I had to admit to myself that I really fucking like you. And I just… I just got scared because you might not feel the same way, and you might just push me away,” another deep breath. “And I decided that I would push you away first… and so I did.”

“So you like me.”

“Yes,” her brows furrowed. “Was that all you got?”

“I mean… it’s the part that matters most,” you grinned at her.

“What do you mean?”

“I really fucking like you too,” you said cupping her cheeks. “I thought you knew and that was why you were avoiding me. But now I get it, I make you nervous,” you said teasingly.

“I wouldn’t use that word…” you rolled your eyes before shutting her off with your lips, finally giving in and kissing her.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now,” you whispered over her lips as you deepened the kiss.

Her lips were soft and rough, and they had some saltiness to them due to her being all sweaty. But you didn’t mind at all, in fact you really like it.

“Remember last time we were here?” you whispered in her ear, trailing a path of kiss down her jaw and neck.

“You mean… that time we last trained?” she sounded breathlessly and it sent a shiver down your whole body.

“If I remember correctly, which I know I do…” you gently bit her skin earning a hiss out of her lips. “You were on the grown and I was on top of you, remember?”

“Yes…” she said as her fingers ran through your hair.

“Want to pick up where we left it off?”

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x fem reader #yelena belova imagine #florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #littlexscarletxwitch's fic #requests by lovely anons ‘๑’

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darkdemeter · 1 month

Text

ONE AND THE SAME, LONELY AND AFRAID

— BUCKY BARNES COLUMN (ONESHOT)

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

—- not my gifs, found on pinterest, credit to original posters! -—

| A/N | DISCRETION |

I dunno what to really say about this piece, brain just switched into angsty, (kinda fluffy?) writing mode and I went with it.

Therapy — angst — hurt comfort? — (introverted) reader — insecurity warning — semi-established mutual pining/interest — strong language — socially awkward bean reader — basically reader has a lot of reservations about things that involve other people, more of a self isolated type — self sabotage — we got a mutual-semi happy ending — I think that's it?

| SUMMARY |

You've always opted to be alone. Recent visits to Dr Raynor, however, work to bring down those walls you hold up. Little are you aware that someone you're talking to is very much the same as you. Lonely and afraid.

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7.6K(words)

| M-LIST | TAGLIST:

@identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic @mostlymarvelgirl

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“Have you been keeping up with the exercises I gave you?”

Already she knows the answer. Not even three seconds can you maintain eye contact, eyes feeling glassy each time you near the braving point. It’s futile. People can hear what you’re saying right? Why the need to have your eyes glued to them?

Your shoulders shove up weakly and Dr Raynor rhythmically paces the pen’s butt against her notebook.

“That’s a no,” she sighs, “I gave you those exercises to help you. Eye contact, let’s start with that again: what do you find so intimidating about it?”

The air is so silent you could hear a pin drop. Your gaze is still glued to a random place on the wall behind her. That is the closest you can give her today.

Her lips push together and her eyes thin in that way you assumed all of these doctors do, a tactic to unnerve you into squeezing out the details. To weed out the problems. You don’t like it. Your fingers are crushed in the grip of your other hand sitting in your lap idly.

Again, you shrug. “Just that. Intimidating. It’s… a lot.”

“There’s more to it for you. And I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that, it terrifies you when someone looks at you. Focuses their attention on you.”

“Maybe it’s something like that…” You tilt your head slightly. “Maybe it’s not.”

I don’t like being here. I just wanna go. I still have fifteen minutes.

“Your family is worried about you. You have a tendency to be self isolating. Reserved. They’re concerned that you’ve been alone.” She’s spitting words at you. Family concerns have always been the bane of your lonely ways. Their constant insistence to put yourself out there, to go out on at least one date.

Try to talk you into meeting people they know, saying that they will be good for you. All because they’ve grown far too comfortable with being with someone, that they can’t stand to be alone themselves. And then, they have to project that onto you.

“It’s a choice.”

“What can you tell me about your intimate life? Partners, significant others.”

The jutting of your pouty lip is any indication that a cheeky remark is right on the edge of your tongue. She stops you right before you can say a word.

“Stuff toys and pets do not count.”

“But they’re companions. You wanna know about my companion life, right?”

“Just answer the question.”

It takes another five minutes. Pure and slow in time, each waver of the ticking hands beats another seconds off the appointment. But it’s not fast enough for your liking. Tongue tracing the curves of your gums and teeth, you contemplate.

Dr. Raynor says your name to draw your attention back - escaped into the cosmos - now forced right back into the couch in her office.

“Seeing someone? Talking to anyone?”

“Sure.”

“Anything else?” She raises a gesturing hand, a silent command for you to speak further. To give her further information. Personal information that’s yours. Safe in your head. There’s no point giving that out to others.

“Just talking to him is all.”

“So neither of you have met in person before?”

Lips rolling inward, thinning, you shake your head. “No.”

Your name is drawn from her lips as a low sigh. She scrawls something down in her notebook, albeit a little aggressively.

“Money is being wasted each and every time you come in here, sit on this couch and say nothing. Resolve nothing. Time is being wasted, time you could be spending out there, actually bonding with someone who you may call a friend or a significant other.”

“I never wanted to be here in the first place.”

Her eyes roll up to meet yours, the split second you manage to meet her eyes, you see the scrutiny. The disdaining judgement and patience that wanes thin for every drop of time in the remaining minutes left.

“That wasn’t even two proper seconds,” she notes, “and yet, you come to your sessions each time.”

“Because if I don’t, then that same concerned family chews my ear off about it.”

Another two minutes pass by. You count the ticking hands slowly. Far too slow. When will this fucking nightmare end? Dr. Raynor continues to pounce her pen on the pad’s paper, the sound a distant, drumming beat.

“From what I’ve gathered, your siblings all have partners of their own, some of them beginning to grow their families. Am I correct?”

You nod as your teeth sink into the inside of your lip. “Right in the ballpark.”

“And you are so comfortable with being alone because it’s all you know. You’re afraid of letting someone in. You rather keep your guard up than ever risk giving someone a chance to love and accept you. I have another patient just like that. Shut off from the world and distrusting.”

It’s like she read your mind. You almost applaud her for her scooby doo investigation. “Wow, way to keep the confidentiality, Doctor,” you breeze through a forced, tight smile, eyes still cast to somewhere else in the room. “It’s better to keep people at arms length. Easier to detach from.”

“And is that what you’re doing with this guy? Keeping him at arm’s length?”

“Sure. I guess.”

Three minutes remaining. You breathe a sigh of relief.

It’s almost over.

Then it lingers on your mind… “Tell me because I’m curious, but why are people obsessed with the idea that being alone is such a bad thing?”

It’s closing in on one minute. A single minute she has to deliver you an answer. Of course, usually she disregards questions like this. But today, she indulges. Maybe, just maybe, this is your way of breaking through to her. To finally and truly give her something to work with.

“I will tell you what I told another patient of mine. Being alone is the most quietest and personal hell someone can endure.”

The chiming of the appointment’s bell signifies its end. You’re eager to stand up from the couch but Dr. Raynor holds a hand up. “Before you go running off back to your lonely hell, I want you to perform at least one exercise.”

At first, you mean to brush her off, your eyes refuse to meet the piercing stare you know is burrowing into your soul, seeking you out in the darkness of your reservations. “Alright. Sure…”

“If you’re interested in this guy, I want you to make the first move and ask to meet up with him. Begin to lower your walls.”

You’ve done it. Just as she asked of you. In hindsight, you should have just ignored her. In honesty, it’s been a while since your heart has bruised your ribs with such intensity in its anxious rage. What if he said no? Neither of you had ever really flirted heavily or indicated that you were head over heels, eager to see each other.

As if you both just knew, you were each settled comfortably in this mutual exchange of words. No video, no voice messages or calls. Just words. Conversations about work, some random things happening during the week and other topics people chat about.

You were meant to feel brave in that moment. To feel invigorated as you take that daring leap of faith outside the comfort of your own space. A safety net you had taken great care to curate, to save yourself from ever falling to the ground with no will to get back up.

In your mind, you’ve seen your siblings go through enough failed relationships that it in some strange way, you’ve experienced it on some outside level. You’ve gained the knowledge that if you let someone - a stranger - in then they will find a way to hurt you one way or another.

But what about that lucky person? That destined soulmate everyone raves on about. Could you really stand going through failure after failure, after seeing the damage it caused your loved ones?

Why risk it? I’m just putting a target on my heart that says “hurt me, please!”.

However, with the following silence after, you believe you had your answer. He wasn’t interested in you. He just wants to remain mutuals. You understand that, you accept it wholeheartedly. It saves you from getting hurt, from him getting hurt and that’s all that matters.

Having your heart broken because you allowed love to blind you to rational thought isn’t something you’re wanting to bring to one of your appointments.

Around ten minutes later he responded. His answer leaves you in a state on the bathroom floor, on your arse, back pressed against the sink cabinets and your chest heaving for any amount of oxygen. The world’s closing in around you, it’s turning against you. Eyes watering until your waterline is drowning and blurry, your hands rake through your hair and grasp at the roots.

The olive branch you extended is received by him whilst your mind spirals into the pools of doubt and sabotage. He’s accepted your bold invitation.

How can I go on a date? I can’t keep eye contact, I don’t know how to act or what to say!

What do we talk about in person? How much is too much?

Maybe it was a mistake. Would it be rude if you pretended it was a joke? You think it over once, then twice. It plays on repeat what you plan to say to get out of this ordeal you’ve now thrown yourself into. You get another notification that lights up your phone screen.

Be nice to finally meet you 7 tomorrow night sound good? ┗

Sure! 7 sounds good heh ┗

there’s a place not far from where I live I like to go to.. unless there’s somewhere else you wanna go ┗

Ugh, why does that sound so… so… desperate? I should probably call it off right now before this gets out of hand.

I’ll see you there Doll just name it ┗

Your heart flutters at the nickname. It makes you feel childish and you cringe that you find yourself swooning over it, but every time he uses it, there’s something that makes you feel special. Like you’re the only one he calls that. After you text him the address, you pass the phone away, leaving it to sit on the sink’s edge. Hands cupping your face, the tears still seeping along the rim of your eyes with a fighting intent to be free. For so long you have kept them bottled up.

And now to be faced with this. You don’t feel ready to be doing this. Your fingers had been hovering over the keys, mind already texting that you had made a silly joke just to see how he’d react. But Dr. Raynor’s words from earlier that day crept into the forefront of your mind, stopping you in your tracks.

‘Being alone is the most quietest and personal hell someone can endure.’

“You haven’t been having nightmares lately. That’s good,” Dr. Raynor says, notebook sitting in absence on her folded leg, pen loose between her fingers. So far, she hasn’t had to write much. A few notes, a sentence or two. Overall, she sees a little more progress. Even if it’s just a little.

“And the girl you’re talking with. Have you two been communicating much lately? Do you think that, maybe, she could be a benefiting factor?”

“We’ve been talking,” Bucky answers with a nod, voice rumbly. “I don’t know.”

“Your nightmares stem from the decades of trauma that still need to be thinned out of your system. And there are outlets that can help with the healing process. Nurturing relationships is one of them.”

As if he hasn’t heard that line before. Being told to nurture his relationships.

“Tell me more about her. What’s been going on between you both?” For a moment, Bucky remains quiet. His teeth roll his bottom lip, biting down before his lips part. Gaze once settled elsewhere, his eyes find hers with firm contact.

The type of contact she wishes she can see from you.

“She’s asked to meet up. I’m seeing her tonight.”

“I understand you two have been talking for a while. Around three months now, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“And… How does that make you feel? You finally have a chance to meet someone face to face and take this relationship to the next stage.”

The question had come right out of the blue for Bucky. After a day out in the field with Sam, all he wanted to do was shower, have a beer and see if you had messaged him. And the conversation had carried out like normal with asking about each other’s day, followed by some playful banter. And then, Bucky was faced with the one topic that had been on his mind for the past few weeks, plaguing him with the idea of possibly meeting each other after all this time, to put a face to a name.

But to think that this could bridge into something further. Something far more intimate. Bucky’s shoulders push up with a heavy sigh.

“I dunno, Doc. I’ve been thinking about meeting her. But being by myself for so long now, it’s normal for me.”

Dr. Raynor squares her shoulders, eyes staring point blank like the barrel of a gun at her patient. “A hurdler doesn’t avoid the obstacles. You have to take that leap, James, and explore these new possibilities before they slip through your fingers. From what you’ve told me, she sounds similar to you.”

“And if things don’t go as I hope? If she pulls away?”

“Then pull her closer. And give her the chance to pull you closer. Start to trust in someone outside of those walls.”

You pace back and forth along the wide strip sidewalk, the night’s air chills you through your clothing. But at this point that could just be the nerves. Why did you have to be bold, why did you have to actually listen to Dr. Raynor? Arriving just a little before the agreed time, you took the time to rehearse things over. Maybe squeeze in a little practice before you make a complete idiotic display of yourself.

By now, you guess it’s just past 7. How the hell are you supposed to know who he is if you’ve never seen one another before? Man, now that you think about it, you really didn’t think this through.

Last time I do any of these fucking exercises…

Quickly stealing a glance down at your phone to get a read on the time, you see you’ve received no message yet.

Maybe he… changed his mind last minute?

Well that really makes you look like an idiot. Shit, you really could slap yourself into tomorrow for getting baited into your own doings. You barely register the thrumming heart of a motorcycle’s engine roaring down the street beside you, purring lowly to a stop.

You shrug to yourself suddenly, the leaping of your heart coaxing your anxiety to grow further, as doubt shrouds over. Your feet shuffle to carry you back in the direction of your favourite ice cream joint. Might as well pick up a little frosty snack on the way back home.

“Okay, I’m stupid. He’s not— oop–!” Someone is the poor victim of your distracted escape, their body is large and broad, arms circling around you to catch you from tripping onto the hard concrete.

“Oh, shit! Sorry!” you groan, eyes quick to seek out a face only to glimpse away as soon as you note the intensity of bright blue; gaze focused solely on you as if you were the only thing that existed.

“All good,” he says. His voice only brings to shake you, slightly husky and the oh so perfect pitch. You do your best to straighten yourself and from his hold, out of habit, you’d grown used to not being touched unless you were the one to initiate it. A skill - or rather lack thereof - you’re not very proud of. Not that members of your family made it any easier whenever they pointed it out.

Distant. Closed off. Stiff.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, yeah, I was… just uh, was meeting up with a guy.”

“Hmph, me too,” he breezes with a deep exhale. You try to ignore the way your peripheral picks up on his body’s outline moving. “She wanted to meet here.”

“Huh, good spot. One of my small hang out spots.” Your balled fists only curl tighter into the pockets of your jacket as another chilling wind attacks your body. Maybe you should settle on a hot beverage instead of some ice cream.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Really nice.”

You both stand idle by one another, the air beginning to lace heavily with the tension of your interaction, both awkward in your butting spaces. Bucky spares a more studying glance at you. A sleeveless, cropped turtleneck with a leather, hooded jacket layering over, you opted to keep the palette simple with your dark, skinny jeans and heeled boots.

You looked dressed up to be on some casual date. Whoever it was you were waiting on was a lucky guy, Bucky thought. In no disrespect to the girl he was messaging, but he figured he would have shot his shot with you had it not been for this mystery girl.

“You hang around here a lot?” he questions to come off as casual and laid back as possible.

“Oh, sure. Yeah… I like it here.”

Bucky finds himself smiling at your response. Strange, he figures, how you seem familiar. Still, he catches on that he hasn’t gotten a proper look at your face. It’s like you're purposefully avoiding looking at him. Did you know him? The aided curse of his sensitive hearing allows him to hear the rapid racing of your heartbeat, like a poor hamster terrified out of its mind.

You can feel him staring at you with the occasional glimpse down at his phone, held in his gloved hand.

“Goodluckwithyourdate. Bye.” You say it far too quickly, it takes Bucky a moment to decipher what you’ve said. His head snaps back and forth in a double take, catching you already walking down the sidewalk, huddled in close to shield yourself. How he knows that feeling internally.

Now you’ve gained his full attention. For Bucky, there was some missing piece to all this. He’s quick to type. Just a little experiment…

Here, Doll, just waiting on you ┗

His jaw tightens, teeth clenching in his observation. You stop when your phone buzzes to life in your pocket. Retrieving it, you read the message. Bucky only has to wait for about a minute before he sees the message.

Ha, I was here first. Where are you?? ┗

You tell me Doll… ┗

you don’t happen to be wearing knitted gloves, right? ┗

Your brows furrow for a moment. How could he know, you haven’t even–

Slowly, you lift your eyes from the blaring screen of your text messages. He now knew it and to think he’s the guy you were waiting on. If anything, this is some fortunate, golden strike.

As your gaze moves to fall over your half turned shoulder that faces back towards him, he manages to catch half of your visage and the radiant haven of your eyes, what little you allow to show.

“I take it you’re Y/N.” He smiles a toothy smile. With any luck, his attempt to charm will work.

“And you’re Bucky?”

He nods in response and you let yourself wander forwards, phone tucked away and your arms folded together.

“I–I, uh… wow, this is embarrassing ,” you all but mutter to yourself with a roll of your eyes.

“How so?”

“I suck at meeting people,” you utter a little louder. Your shoulders shrug with the motion of your confession. You only dread the look in those blue eyes that you can’t bring yourself to glance up into. What if you see something that gives away his intentions? What if you give away what’s going on in your own mind to him, for him to see all the fear right there like an open book to be read. Knowledge to be obtained and used against you.

“Maybe if you looked at people once and a while,” he chuckles.

Oh… he likes someone who can maintain eye contact.

“Yeah, what a shame. Oh well, nice meeting you.”

The abruptness cuts him. Wounds him like a dark chill that runs his spine. His shoulders straighten then and the bevel between his brows grows in depth, the puzzlement of his confusion evident on his face that you don’t take the time to read. Not when he can easily catch contact with your now glossy eyes.

Again, you’re making off in a hurry.

Pull her closer, it’s the only thought that crosses his mind.

“Wait, wait up!” he calls out quickly, voice sharp that he sees your entire body flinch at the command, but you carry on. He doesn’t want to scare you away. His gloved hand cups over your elbow.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he says with a sigh, “I’m bad at meeting people at times too.”

“Really?” You don’t mean to sound distrusting, if he interpreted it that way, each to their own at the end of the day.

“Yeah, that whole… dating scene is crazy these days.”

You cannot find yourself more inclined to agree with that. Seeing how much the world has changed around you, and you’re only in your twenties. Plenty of more room to change. Thinking about the future is what you consider an anxiety inducing pass time, one you try not to get carried away with.

“Tell me ‘bout it,’ you huff. You flex your ankle, the heel scuffing softly against the pavement, hopefully grinding some form of inspiration to make you less awkward. Though you fear the damage has been done.

He chuckles. “Glad we’re agreeable in person. C’mon, mind giving me a tour of your little hang out?”

“Sure,” you agree with a small smile, brushing aside a stray wisp of hair, “I know a little place up this way.”

“I like your gloves,” Bucky says, clicking his tongue, when spared a moment he glances off to the side in his miserable cringe, what the hell was that move?

But he didn’t expect for your chin to be raised a little higher and a much warmer smile to grace your lips. Wow, he still couldn’t get over it. A cute, beautiful girl like yourself happening to be the one he’s been communicating with all this time.

“Thanks.” You suppress a giggle, the sound small in your throat. “Look. Glove twins.”

Seeing you raise your gloved hand up, he saves you from any further embarrassment and meets yours almost immediately, palms straight and pressed together in a mockery to a high five.

“Well, look at that.” His lips tug into an amused grin.

For a second you meet his gaze, but as quick as anything, the connection is lost. As you drop your hand back to your side, you feel warmth creep into your cheeks. How your lack of eye contact can be a burden at times. All you want to do is look at this guy, get a read of him without the need to sneak fleeting glances whenever you could.

All you can settle on now is that he’s down right cute. Handsome.

No way this guy is single. How some chick could just give him a false number. My number.

You wander further down the street together, side by side, occasionally arms brushing against one another before you stop and jab a thumb at the small bar. “Here it is. Heh, quaint place. I, uh… like coming here. Obviously.”

While he’s distracted with his observation, you take a few seconds to actually look at him.

Casually dressed, so much like yourself. Chiselled features, intense yet stunning eyes you believe you’ve ever seen, and broad. Damn well towering high above you. Next to him, you feel like a gummy bear. Why that comparison, you have no idea, but you find it fitting.

Thus so far he doesn’t put himself as intentionally dangerous or harmful, not towards you anyway. You’d bet all that’s in your wallet he’d cause some serious damage if he wanted to.

“Nice little joint.” You hum softly and nod in agreement, eyes sinking low to instead scan the fabric of his jacket instead of his reaction when you know his gaze is on you.

You bob your head in the direction of the door, indicating him to follow you inside. But Bucky, if anything, was raised in the century of etiquette and manners. Especially in the company of a woman. Your smaller, gloved hand reaches for the door until his own comes forward, pulling the door open for you.

“After you, Doll.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Again, that warm crimson settles in your cheeks, causing the rest of your body to heat up, soon enough you won’t need the gloves and jacket to keep you warm.

You lead him over to a window booth, sliding in over the overworn cushions and he takes the one opposite you. Not too soon after does the regular waitress greet you with a pearly smile, blonde hair tied back into a ponytail.

“Y/N!” she gasps widely, “So good to see you. What can I get you and your man tonight?” She flashes a wink down towards you both. Out of sheer interest, Bucky’s eyes drift to land on you, the corner of his lips turned up slightly into a smirk.

“Wh– he, oh no, he’s not– we’re not… just the regular, thanks.”

Tongue tied. You fucking hate situations that plant you on the spot, on your arse. Like an ungraceful landing after jumping the wagon. Fuck, you’re making yourself look even more weird in front of him. Why this sudden need to act like a normal human being around him is present, you find it confusing. But from trial and error, you’ve always somehow managed to mark yourself as a strange one.

It was better to keep things short between interactions. But with Bucky, something has come over you that makes you want to trust him. Be open with him. But you know you can’t. People can hide their true nature for lengths at a time that they deem necessary. You’re not about to give this guy a loaded gun to turn on you.

With a nod, the waitress nods and writes down in her notepad, she looks to Bucky expectantly.

“I’ll have what she’s having and can we get two beers with the order.”

“Can do. That will be with you both shortly.” With an affirmative nod, the waitress heads off to deliver the new order.

“If you just want to dip any time during… this, then I understand.” For the second time tonight, Bucky’s face contorts with deeply rooted confusion. His smile is the product of his being unsure whether you’re serious or joking. “Why would I do that?”

Your shoulders move up sharply with a shrug.

Because you don’t want to be around me.

“I’m not leaving you by yourself. You asked to meet up and I’m here.”

Touching words that you wish to believe in them wholeheartedly. Surely though, he’s only saying that out of courtesy.

“I tend to stay out pretty late towards the weekend.”

Now it’s his turn to shrug. “So do I.”

Once the food and beers arrived, you found it easier to distract yourself, able to roll the bottle between your hands, feeding off of your meal bit by bit throughout conversation.

“Like I said before, don’t feel obligated to stay out late. Don’t want to keep your girl waiting.” A small tactic, albeit you disbelieve that it’s very discreet, it’s an obvious tell that you want to know if he’s single or not. You’re no expert in the dating pool but that just has to be right up there in some top ten listed prompts.

“Not leaving you. I don’t have a girl waiting on me, don’t worry, Doll.” You almost choke on your next bite, drowning it down your throat with a gulp of beer. You almost meet his eyes, opting to focus just below them. There is absolutely no way in hell this guy is single.

Bucky figures he’d shoot his shot, now that the identity of mystery girl and you were one and the same.

“Hope your boyfriend doesn’t mind I’m stealing you for the night.”

Why did he word it like that?!

“Ha. Boyfriend,” you sigh, mouth pinching towards the side. Briefly, you notice the furrow in his brows.

Dammit, why is he so fucking cute?

“No boyfriend,” he drawls lowly over the rim of his bottle.

You shake your head. “Nope.”

He can tell by the way you roll the singular word, emphasising the p with a sharp popping sound. Bitterness.

“Why?” He watches you intently as he takes a drink of his beer, meanwhile, you're turning your bottle left and right, like trying to crack the code to some safe.

Didn’t want to risk getting hurt.

“Just…” You pause with a heavy sigh, heat covers your eyes that you now direct to stare down at the table. “Never made the effort, if I’m honest.”

“You like being alone.”

“Prefer it, actually. Easier that way.”

Of that, Bucky completely understands. After everything he’s been through, being alone has just made things simple. Lonely but simpler. He notices the many couples and maybe it would be nice to have someone there. But how can he find normalcy after everything he’s done? Is he deserving of it?

He wants peace. Dr. Raynor believes that’s bullshit but she can’t understand that he wants peace for himself. To feel comfortable. Accepted. Perhaps loved, if any deity or supernatural entity from above condones it.

But then, why are you so comfortable in your loneliness? He wonders about it.

“My doctor keeps telling me to try and engage with people. Open up. That sort of shit.”

“Mine too.”

Another funny coincidence you both find in each other. During your time talking over text, you both managed to find out you attended doctor appointments. Therapy and not by your own choice either. By some other force that dictated you needed help.

“People are so afraid of being alone these days. World’s dangerous, sure, but so are the people you thought you could trust. But people are desperate, I guess. They’ll risk it.”

Bucky cannot help the way the corner of his eyes curl slightly, lips stretching into a pursed smile to contain his amusement as much as possible.

“What?” you ask, head tilting slightly, your eyes having now settled on the booth’s texture right over his shoulder.

He shakes his head, chuckling to himself. “You often on the defensive when it comes to people?”

“Have to be. Don’t know their intentions. Could be anything.”

“And what about me?”

You shrug again, gaze torn between meeting his and keeping it far, far away. “Like you said before, if I looked at people once and a while. But I can’t. So I’ll never know, I guess.”

He frowns slightly at this. If your body language is telling him anything right now is that his question pushed you into a corner. You felt trapped when confronted by his curiosity. You didn’t answer him, not exactly, but if your response did anything it’s that you tend to avoid answering when you get pushed.

You don’t seem to be the overly aggressive type up front. But if backed into that corner, that is when you may very well lash out. A defensive tactic. A once victim tactic.

Both of you are pulled from the thicket of your scattered thoughts and silence when the waitress returns with the check. You begin to shuffle around in your pocket, obtaining your half of the meal when Bucky stops you.

“My treat,” he says and hands his money to the blonde worker.

“N-no, that’s okay. I’m fine with paying my side.”

He tuts you with a shake of his head, eyes penetrating your very soul for the moment you meet it.

Don’t look at me like that please… heart’s going too fast. Just let me pay for my food.

“I was born and raised in a time that I pay for the date. Let me cover it.”

Not that you have much choice to argue. He’d already handed off the money and the waitress took away your finished plates and beers.

Your bottom lip curls outwards into a pout. You feel bad that he felt like he had to do that. For him to pay out more than what was required.

In that regard, he leans back slightly, chin held higher a little more. He believes he’s won this round. But if anything, you’re adamant to pay him back.

“Here.” You slide the bill towards him, ignoring the way his eyes narrow slightly to your challenge. “Just accept it, please? I’ll feel better knowing I didn’t waste your money.”

Reluctantly, he nods and accepts the money and you mumble a soft thanks.

Time flew by as you both wandered together, giving him a general tour of the area. Small bouts of banter passed between you both, and general topics of discussion like work and time passers were made to fill the void of silence. Even still, you kept everything at surface level, never really exploring any deeper thoughts, much like him. But those very rare glimpses were only brief glimpses into one another’s life.

At least you both could report to your respective doctors that you tried, still in the dark that Dr. Raynor was the host of your separate appointments.

Coming through the way you came you reach your initial meeting spot, the sidewalk more open with people now on their way back home at the later hour.

“No, Sam just talks too much,” Bucky grumbles in his chuckle, an amused grin forming on your lips. He could just make out the rows of teeth.

“Sounds like a fun guy.”

“Definitely.” You hear the grumbling breathlessness in his tone. When he glimpses to his side he finds your eyes, quick to steal whatever he can get of those capturing colours that are far too swift to avert.

Fuck. Can’t even make it to five seconds. I’m getting nowhere with this eye contact exercise.

Following him, he leads you over to his bike and your eyes narrow curiously. So it was him that owned the motorcycle you heard earlier that evening.

“I guess this is where we part ways for the night.” You bounce your head in the direction of your place. “Was good finally meeting you, Bucky.”

That didn’t sit well with him. A lot can happen on the walk back to your place and he didn’t feel completely ready to let you go for the night. Eyes tearing between you and his bike with quick thinking, he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind. He hoists a leg over his bike, straddling the seat and rolling his arm to beckon you closer.

“Why don’t we go for a quick ride? Then I’ll drop you home.”

“Nah, besides I’ve never… I-I’m good. I like the walk home.”

Bucky is quickly picking up a sort of pattern. Still, he can’t shake the need to just hang around you a little longer, nor the guilt he’d have for just leaving you. Chivalry at its finest, he shakes his head sternly, dismounting the bike, you see the way his body moves fluently with the action.

Fucking stop doing that!

Your mind is dancing two different dances. Rational thought and that bubbly, giddiness that often leads swooning victims into blinded trouble.

“Alright, we’ll walk together then.”

“Wait– you can’t just leave your–”

He begins to lead you off in the direction you’d motioned to before. “I’ll come back for it.”

“Bucky.” He sees the defiant pout and crossing of your arms. Indeed, a cute sight to behold.

He smirks, and shit, you couldn’t meet anything above the bridge of his nose then, but did you admire what you could.

“It’s your call. We can either walk or take the bike.”

He’s played a few rounds of this game already with you. Numerous times you’ve had to choose between one option or the other, a few of those being a tad embarrassing, but his assurance provided some semblance of comfort.

But what felt like a game before now feels like more than that now. Before it was fun, easy and not serious. This, however, was not a round you can simply forfeit from. It’s either option one or two.

Your chest expands with a large inhale. Blinking, you contemplate and weigh the options. “We’ll take the bike.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make a rider out of you, Doll.” It didn’t help the flush that scorches and freezes your body simultaneously when he adds a wink to his witty flirtations.

You try to not let it get to you. Not to let goosebumps riddle your skin and send your nerves endings aflame. But he’s making it hard. He leads you back towards the bike and he grabs the helmet.

“Here, you can use this.”

You focus on the protective helm and though you mean to protest, worried about what he’d do about himself, he’s already tucking your head in.

You make a small noise as he wriggles it in place and through the visor, you can finally meet his eyes.

With the blacked out visor to shield your eyes, you finally and truly admire the - unfortunately muted - hue of blue that entrances you, intense as the hottest levelled flame. He’s smiling down at you.

“How’s it fit?”

“Good!” you call, giving him a thumbs up. He nods with that assurance and directs you to mount the bike behind him. But you’re going shy on him and he cocks his head slightly, brows knitted in their concern.

Even when you preferred to be the one to initiate contact, that didn’t mean you were used to or fond of it. What if you held him too tightly, or what if you touched him somewhere he wasn’t comfortable with.

Mounting the bike behind him, you at first put about an inch or two of space between you both. “Get on closer.”

You fail to hide the mousey squeak when his hands pull at your thighs, tugging them forward until they rest against him, your hands find purchase on the broad space of his shoulders.

He does it cautiously, he seeks out your wrists when they slide down the scape of his back, and you - warily - let him pull them around his torso. He exhales slowly, giving himself a second to comprehend having your hold around him. Why does he feel this way? Now that he has you like this, he can’t bear to think about losing it.

“Hold on tight now,” he instructs and with a heavy bob of your head, thanks to the helmet, he lets the engine purr to life and he feels your arms grow a little tighter.

Rolling the bike back a little, he lets a car pass by before he speeds off down the way, the bike’s roar pulses through your entire body until for sure you’ve gone numb and you only hold onto Bucky tighter.

The surge of adrenaline fills you until you’re on high, blood boiling hot in your veins as he flies through the traffic. For taking things usually at your own pace, it felt good to have a little speed kick in.

Taking a sudden turn to the left would have made you question your decision to take the bike - should have scared you - but it didn’t. Not with Bucky. For what feels like ages now, you feel that you can trust him.

“How you doing back there?” he asks, straining his voice to yell over the bike’s power. You doubt very much he’d be able to hear you, not when you only just managed to hear him, you opt to nod your head vigorously. He feels it against the muscles of his back and his lips tug upwards.

Accelerating slightly more, he feels your body grow giddy, jostling a little as you laugh behind him while he weaves through traffic. It really shows that you’ve never been on a bike before now. And since that’s the case, he’s determined to make it an unforgettable experience.

With any wishful thinking, you’ll want to go for another ride with him.

Bucky puts the now overwhelmed engine to rest for a little while, all thanks to his plan to impress you. “Here we are.” He lets his eyes rake over the few story building, a little settlement of apartments, currently parked round back that shows a short paved walkway to your backdoor. Going through the front door was usually hectic with your neighbours, good people honestly, but after a tiring day it could get a bit much.

This way, you could be left alone.

“This is me,” your voice says through the helmet. You dismount before him and unlike Bucky, your movements aren’t as well versed. But for him, that just adds to your charm.

You let him stand close to you as he retrieves his helmet, being gentle to pry it off.

Once that visor is gone, so too does your resolve to look into his eyes, the connection lost with the helmet’s absence.

“Thanks for driving me home. I… had a good time.”

“You’re welcome.” Bucky’s lips thin into a smile. This was it then, the end of your little outing together. He doesn’t want to come off strong but how can he be so sure that you’ll be so bold again? How long would he have to wait?

That’s why he’s pulling you closer again. It may be scary but at this point, he’s willing to risk it, if it means to have another meeting with you. To see you again.

“Well, goodnight Bucky. I’ll talk to you—” You’d only begun to turn towards the narrow walkway when you’re stopped. Pulled back until you’re practically flushed against Bucky’s front. He’s pressing something into the palm of your hand. Thin, like paper. Peering down, you see the bill you’d given him.

However, you don’t have any other choice when his other hand tilts your chin up.

Oh no.

“Give me five seconds,” he breathes out, voice hopeful. Your chin trembles, only just able to look at him through your lashes, but even then your focus dives downward, but his fingers remain to keep your head from bowing.

“I-I can’t…”

“You can. Take your time.”

Why he’s doing this, you have no clue, and why he’s willing to be patient; it’s just downright confusing. Who in their right mind would have time for this? At times, you barely have enough time to deal with your own shit.

To save himself from waiting for a literal eternity, you rip the bandaid, and you meet his eyes. No visor, no secretive glimpses here and there stolen. You stare straight up, right into those blues that can very well drown you.

Your lungs tighten and struggle to maintain a steady pattern, you feel the welling of tears glass over your eyes with each second you count. Slowly.

One… two…

His eyes remain gentle with you. Tender and kind. You’re not seeing anything… bad, like he wants to hurt you. he could be hiding it really well. But for yourself, you’re sure he can see every single rational and irrational fear, every painful memory in your teary eyes. Your vision begins to cloud, like the fight to stay above the crashing waves.

Three… four…

Buck’s hand lowers slowly but you don’t register it. You can’t. It’s something that occurs in the background, unattuned to it. You see in those wonderfully coloured hues that he's just as haunted as you are or even more.

He’s lonely as you are. Afraid as you are. Shadows of his own past, you can see them. Made him into the person he is in front of you. And you can’t blame him, no matter what it is that haunts him.

You see a once victim in him just as much as you see in the mirror every morning.

“Same time next Friday?” he asks, his voice is low, almost a whisper. His chest expands as he holds his breath.

“Sure.” You share a smile between you two, cheeks glowing warm and bright red.

“I’ll pick you up.”

Him leaving the proximity of your personal space leaves you gasping for air, blinking the tears in your eyes rapidly, you watch him retreat to his bike. Until next Friday, you’d wait to see him then.

“Talk soon, Doll,” he calls out with a wave once he’s atop his vehicle. Looking at it now, you can still feel the vibrations in your legs.

“Mhm. Until then.”

You take your leave then, entering your apartment and shutting the door behind you in tandem with him riding off into the night. Planting your back against the door to ground you does little to affect, still you’re floating.

This new feeling welling inside your chest, a flutter in your stomach… It scares you. Is this feeling why people are afraid to be alone? You don’t know what to think.

All you do know is that you gave him ten seconds.

#treehouse taglist #the dark demeter writing catalogue #bucky barnes x reader #female reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #angst #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x you

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huexuri · 4 months

Note

i don't have an idea if mommy kink is against your rules, but... JUST SUB!BEOMGYU GETTING ALL FLUSTERED AND EVEN KINDA SCARED WHEN HE ACCIDENTALY CALLED YOU "MOMMY" WHEN YOU WERE SUCKING HIM OFF😭 but in the end you both learn something about yourself: you like being called mommy and he likes calling you mommy

em... u... are .. so...big brain...... i did not know how much i needed mommy kink gyu until now 😔

⊹ didn't hear you, darling (sub!gyu x fem!reader)

NSFW, MDNI!

warnings: fem!reader, dom!reader, sub!gyu, mommy kink, pet names (good boy), blowjob, deepthroating, teasing, riding

notes: this is.... definitely not my best...........

beomgyu laying on his back, his long and slim fingers that interlock with yours as your tongue slowly glides down the length of his shaft. your free hand holding the base, you lick up his already hard cock and flick your tongue at his slit. as if him squirming at that isn't enough, you start to stroke him up and down before wrapping your fingers around his glistening tip — aching and desperate for your touch, you give it a light squeeze and beomgyu's hips stutter to the sensitivity.

"plea— hng... please stop t-teasing..." beomgyu whined out.

"shhh..." you giggled, teasing his cock head once more with the tip of your tongue, tasting the beads of precum that just started to leak from his erection. you felt him squeeze your hand harder and knew that he was starting to get desperate and impatient.

"don't you see yourself? you look so pretty so desperate and horny like this..."

beomgyu could only whine in response,, so finally after what felt like eternity to gyu, you slowly sink and take him whole, the tip of his cock that lightly hit the back of your throat — every inch of his length dominated by the walls of your pretty mouth, making gyu's fingers tremble with his hand in yours.

"mmhh... fuck, m-mommy.... i—"

his hand that was originally laced with yours now on his face, covering his mouth as his cheeks glow a beet red and his eyes wide open. you look up at him and detach your mouth from his cock. he looks back at you, embarassed and ashamed of the pet name that just left his mouth, somewhat scared he was going to be punished.

you straddle him and look him dead in the eyes. pulling his hand away from his mouth and gripping his wrist, he kept mumbling apologies like he'd done something horribly wrong. but you don't just get mad at him.

"say it again." you whispered.

beomgyu's petrified eyes softened, the confused look that was once on his face calming down, and he obeys you with the hesitant words that left his mouth...

"mommy?" he muttered.

"what was that huh? didn't hear you, darling."

"please, fuck me....mommy. i want you so bad, please.."

looking at him for the last time before absolutely wrecking his lips swollen, he combs your hair with one hand and his other hand is pinned down by yours on the bedsheets.

the kiss grew sloppier and sloppier. with his mouth still attached to yours, you adjust your entrance on his tip, earning a loud moan from him that traveled down your throat. you lowered yourself onto his big size and threw your head back.

leaving the kiss, you pin his other wrist down and start bouncing on him, taking his entire length in your walls that clenched around his cock.. his pretty broken voice moaning at every little thing you do to him.

"fuck,,, mommy, mommy, i—i'm-!! shit, shit... please... please i wanna cum s-so.... so fuckin'—" gyu whimpered between heavy breaths, his eyes starting to water and drool starting to spill.

"good boy, good fucking boy... cum for me, pretty." you groaned, now bouncing on him as fast as you can go. you feel him twitch inside you, his blood pumping, you feel your climax arriving, he almost starts screaming into his pillow, with muffled out "i-i'm gonna cum, i'm—" being repeated over and over again, and then everything goes white for a second.

you find yourself chest to chest on gyu, his cum leaking out of you as his cock pops out of you itself. you feel gyu's chest rise and fall at a pace as if he'd just run a marathon.

"you okay, baby?" you asked gyu, who clearly looked fucked OUT.

"y-yeah." gyu hastily responded.

there was silence for a few minutes. just.. the peacefulness of you in his embrace with his arms wrapped around your back.

"since when did you like when i called you mommy?" gyu exclaimed, putting the silence to an abrupt stop.

"i should be asking you how THAT slipped out of your mouth.." you responded.

"whatever, mommy.." beomgyu giggled, and you smiled to that.

#xuri writes #xuri inbox #txt smut #beomgyu smut #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu hard thoughts #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours

184 notes · View notes

hunny-bean · 10 months

Text

Sugar & Spice

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank likes you best in blue. Happy Anniversary!

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex (M & F Recieving), Fingering, Unprotected P in V, Obnoxiously Fluffy at Times, Lingerie, Teasing, Light Bondage, Kinda Mean Frank, Sub Reader. Ok, I think that's it! Let me know if I missed one.

A/N: Needless to say, I'm expanding my comfort zone. I added a splash of mechanic!frank because he's a guilty pleasure of mine. Sorry if he's a little OOC, it's hard to imagine Frank untraumatized and in a happy relationship. Anyway, I hope this turned out alright. Enjoy! Let me know what you think! XOXO.

P.S. I'm open to requests, if you've got any cool ideas! I love writing, but I have experienced writer's block many times before, so I may need a little assistance at some point. I'll write for any Jon Bernthal character as well as a plethora of others that I don't have time to list. If you want to ask for another character, just take a gamble and I'll let you know if I can do it! Also, nothing immoral or illegal, please. Sorry for the insanely long author's note.

You may proceed :)

Read on AO3

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

'Curse this stupid lighting,' you thought, examining your makeup in the floor-length mirror. The dim yellow light bulb in Frank's walk-in closet was seriously throwing off your perception of colors. For example, you were pretty sure your blush was looking natural and sweet, but there was always that slim chance you would look like a clown in a different room.

You were tragically forced into the closet by the sound of Frank's keys rattling in the lock. Before that, you had been enjoying the luxury of a bathroom counter. Unfortunately, Frank only had one toilet and you figured he might need it, so you grabbed your bag and sprinted to the closet the second he opened the door. Under no circumstances would you let Frank catch even the slightest glimpse of you. At least, not until you were finished getting ready. You were planning a surprise, after all.

When Frank finally got home, he instantly knew something was off. Usually, when you spent the night with him (which was most nights), you'd come meet him at the door whenever he finished up at the garage. You'd slide through the kitchen in your fuzzy socks to give him a hug and a kiss and ask how his day was. It had become such a routine for the two of you, that when it didn't happen, his first thought was that you weren't there at all.

Frank pulled his boots off and hung up his jacket before wandering into the kitchen to see if you had left a note. Maybe your roommate had another "crisis," he thought, or you had to make a quick run to the grocery store. Finding nothing, he grew slightly concerned. It was very unlike you to just take off without so much as a text explaining why.

Then, Frank heard a faint rustling noise coming from the bedroom. He smiled softly, all of his previous worries evaporating as he went down the hall to see what you were up to. You were probably just taking a nap, he thought, but when he got to the bedroom, you were still nowhere to be found. Frank was just about to try calling you when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the light on under the closet door.

"Hey, baby. You in there?" he asked, knocking gently.

"Be out in a minute!" you called back, fluffing your curls that you barely got done before he showed up.

"Whatcha doin' in the closet?" Frank asked, and even through the door you could hear the amusement in his voice.

"It's a surprise," you replied deviously.

"Come on, darlin', you know I hate surprises," Frank griped.

"You'll like this one, I promise," you proclaimed. "Just be patient."

Frank sighed dramatically. "I wanna see you," he grumbled. Smiling, you meticulously straightened the bow you added to pin two small sections of your hair behind your head.

"Oh, trust me," you muttered. "You will."

Taking a step back, you admired your full body in the mirror. You had bought this underwear set a while ago, and were just waiting for the right occasion to use it. It was a beautiful baby blue color, and it hugged your body perfectly. The bra was a short, sheer corset top that showcased your cleavage without being too obnoxious. The panties were soft and lacy, pulled up high in the sides to accentuate your hips. They weren't quite a thong, but they certainly came close. Decorating both pieces were small embroidered cornflowers that made you feel pretty and delicate. On top of it all was an elegant lace robe that you somehow managed to find in the exact same color. It was almost completely see-through and it barely brushed your mid thigh, so you weren't worried about it obscuring any of your best assets.

You looked good. There was no denying that. In fact, you couldn't think of a time you'd ever looked better. You just hoped Frank's heart was strong enough to withstand the sight of you.

Quickly, you added your finishing touches, brushing on your favorite lip gloss and putting in a pair of dainty diamond earrings that Frank got you for Valentine's Day that year. You gave yourself one more once-over in the mirror. Everything was perfect. At long last, you were ready to execute your master plan.

You were a little nervous, but what you were about to pull off wouldn't work if you let it show, even just a little bit. With that in mind, you took a few deep breaths and rolled your shoulders back. Holding your head up high, you slowly opened the closet door.

When you stepped out into the bedroom, you found Frank laying on top of the covers with his arms positioned behind his head and one leg propped up. He was barely doing anything, and still he was the picture of dominance. Even while wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, he looked incredible. In fact, just seeing him was enough to have you fantasizing about crawling on top of him and hiding your face in his chest. But alas, you could not. You had to stay strong.

As soon as Frank saw you, his eyes lit up like a little kid's on Christmas morning. He immediately sat up straight, looking utterly dazzled. It seemed you were right. This was one surprise he could get behind.

"Do you like it?" you asked beguilingly. You gave him a small spin, showing off all the intricate details.

"That's the stupidest question you've ever asked, sweetheart," Frank replied, rising to meet you across the room. "You're a fuckin' angel."

He pulled you in by your waist to leave a soft peck on your lips. Seeing his mouth shine with your lip gloss when he pulled away made your heart skip a beat. You weren't always a possessive person, but that changed when you discovered what it felt like to leave your mark on someone. Especially someone as desirable as Frank Castle.

"Happy anniversary, baby," Frank drawled sweetly.

"Happy anniversary." You were sure you were smiling like an idiot, but you couldn't help it. You and Frank had been together for four years now, and it felt like the shortest lifetime you'd ever experienced. The love you felt for the man in front of you was stronger than anything you had ever felt before, and you knew in your heart that would never change.

Frank wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back in for another kiss, this one considerably longer than the last. The two of you stood there for a while, making out while your hands explored the familiar planes of each other's bodies. Frank was fucking your mouth slowly with his tongue, kissing you like a promise in the way he knew made your knees weak. You almost gave up on the plan right then and there, but your excitement for what was to come later that night saved you from falling into the trap.

You reached a hand down between you to palm at Frank's growing erection. You heard him let out a low hum, and you felt the vibrations travel from his chest through yours, relaxing you from the inside out. It didn't take long for him to start pushing back against your warm hand, seeking some relief, but he didn't find any. . .

because that was when you stopped moving. You pulled away from the kiss, keeping your hand perfectly still and looking up at him sweetly through your eyelashes.

"What time is it?" you inquired, focusing all your energy into keeping a straight, innocent face.

"Uh. . . 'bout 6:30?" Frank was obviously not thrilled that you had stopped kissing him to ask that of all things. 'Perfect,' you thought maliciously. Unable to fight it any longer, a sly, excited smile slowly overtook your face.

"It's dinner time," you whispered.

Before he could react, you slipped out of Frank's grasp and sauntered away to the kitchen. You went straight to the pantry to gather everything you would need to make spaghetti and garlic bread, and set it on the counter next to the stove.

When Frank was finished staring blankly at the wall, mystified, he joined you in the kitchen to find you filling up a pot with water at the sink. He crept up behind you, wrapping you up in a hug and leaving a soft kiss on your cheek.

"What'd you do that for, hmm?" He was using a voice that you were all too familiar with. It was the voice he used when he wanted something from you, and most days it had you folding instantly. He sounded so condescending, and it was playing right into your more submissive side. He was being an asshole, but he was just such a hot asshole, and somehow it always. freaking. worked.

Except it wouldn't work today. You would make sure of it.

"Go sit down, Frankie," you requested, gesturing to the bar behind the sink.

"Dinner can wait a little while. Your tomatoes aren't gonna go bad in an hour, sweetheart." You shut off the faucet and tried to move over to the stove, but Frank tightened his hold on you, refusing to let you go.

"I'm hungry," you complained.

"So am I," Frank teased, making sure you could feel the proof of his statement pressed up against you. You rolled your eyes at how audible his stupid smirk was.

"I'm trying to make us a special anniversary dinner. Now go sit down, Frank."

Frank knew you weren't actually upset with him, and he wasn't stupid so he knew what you were doing. You weren't stupid either, so you knew he secretly liked it. You were having a competition, and you couldn't wait to finally beat your insufferably headstrong boyfriend at a game of wills. All you had to do to win was hold out until you were finished eating, and this time around you had some tricks up your sleeve.

Frank groaned defeatedly. No matter how much he wanted you, his chivalrous upbringing prevented him from denying his lady what she wanted. So, he gave in and trudged around the counter to sit on the barstool across from the sink. You could feel his eyes following you as you went about making your dinner. His gaze was burning holes all over your body, heating up your core and exhilarating your mind. Every movement you made was intentional, perfectly executed in a way that kept Frank on edge and his jeans too tight.

When you needed something from the lower cabinets, you would bend over to show off your panties, and the fabric would stretch tighter around the swell of your ass. When you needed something from the top cabinets, you would stand on your tiptoes and stretch to reach it, revealing more of your tummy and causing the underwire to push your chest out a little further. While you were reading from the recipe book, you would "absent-mindedly" twirl your hair around your fingers or lean forward on the counter, subtly arching your back.

Once, when you were finished blending your home-made spaghetti sauce and it was heating up on the stove, you dipped a finger in the pot and delicately licked it clean. You didn't look at Frank while you did it because you're sure you would have laughed at how ridiculous it was, but you knew he saw it (and liked it) from his small frustrated sigh.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" he asked, semi-sarcastically.

"Nope!" you replied happily, dropping your handful of dry spaghetti in the boiling water.

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure, yeah." You smiled at him, walking past the bar to put your leftover garlic in the pantry on the other side.

As you were walking back, you failed to notice Frank had hopped to the barstool closest to you until he had already sprung his attack. Lightning fast, he snatched you up and pulled you towards him, slipping a hand under your robe to grab at your ass and wrapping the other around your waist to hold you still. He buried his face in your neck, and you felt him shudder and tighten his grip as he inhaled deeply. The special occasion perfume you wore never failed to drive him wild.

"It's just that I feel so useless sitting over here, doing nothing," he purred, his lips tracing patterns across your collarbone.

"You're definitely not doing nothing," you mumbled.

"That right? What am I doin' then, hmm?"

When you didn't respond, Frank slid his hand away from your ass and dragged two of his fingers gently over the lace covering your arousal. When he drew his hand back and held it up, you saw his fingers were significantly shinier than they were before. That was the biggest downside to fancy underwear. Sure, they look nice, but they do nothing to absorb moisture.

"Is that what I'm doing?" You nodded. "Yeah? But I've just been sitting here," Frank teased.

'Goddammit,' you thought. 'How did I ever think I could make it past dinner with this asshole?'

"Know what I think? I think you just like attention. You put on a show for whoever's watching and you get soaked right through, is that it?" He moved his hand back down to start rubbing gentle circles on your clit through the fabric.

"No, I don't," you fussed, pushing at Frank's bicep to try and dislodge his hand. He just pressed down harder, making you desperately wish you could squeeze your thighs together and grind on his fingers until you were dripping on the floor.

"No? Then what is it, sweetheart? What's got you so wet, huh?"

"Just you," you mumbled. "Just your attention."

"Yeah? That's sweet, baby. Well if this is all my fault, then I should do somethin' about it, shouldn't I?"

Unable to fight back any longer, you nodded. The ache in your core was running too deep, and the relief Frank promised seemed more satisfying than any victory possibly could. Grinning dangerously, Frank released you and stood up before pulling you back into a feverish kiss. You got so lost in the contact that you didn't realize Frank was pushing you until your back hit the counter.

Suddenly, Frank's hands traveled down to settle on your upper thighs. This was a signal you were all too familiar with. Barely a second after you felt it, you jumped, wrapping your legs around him as he set you down on the counter.

As soon as he had you where he wanted you, Frank latched onto your neck, kissing and biting wherever he could reach, leaving faint red marks in all your most sensitive places. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and bit your lip hard as voltaic sensations zipped up and down your spine. Frank slipped your robe gently off your shoulders, leaving light kisses along the newly exposed skin.

Frank left a darker bruise on the base of your neck before tenderly grabbing your jaw to trace his tongue along your bottom lip. With one hand (and a little cooperation on your part), he pulled your robe the rest of the way off and tossed it to the side. Then, he began moving slowly down your torso, stopping to nip lightly at your rigid buds through the flowers hiding them and lick a few gentle stripes up your stomach. When he got too far down to bend over comfortably, he pulled his barstool up behind him and tugged you to the edge of the counter before sitting back down.

At first you didn't know what he was planning, but you figured it out pretty quick when he grabbed your legs and tossed them over his shoulders. Your tailbone was aching and the faucet was digging into your back, but you couldn't bring yourself to care when Frank began leaving hot kisses up your thigh. His stubble was rough against your skin and you were secretly hoping you would still be feeling it in the morning.

You felt Franks nose bump against your clit as he swiped his tongue over your obvious wet spot. The sudden feeling surprised you, and you didn't have time to prevent a small whine from slipping out. Smirking, Frank drew his tongue tortuously slowly from the very back of your cunt to your sensitive nub. When he reached it, he sucked gently at it, feeling your thighs tremble around his head.

"Frank, please," you gasped, throwing your head back when he sucked harder.

Frank finally started slipping his fingers in your waistband, and tapped your hip to get you to lift up. He tugged your panties down to your knees and-

*hisssssssssss*

"Oh, shit!" you cried, pushing Frank away from you. Your spaghetti was bubbling over! You hopped off the counter and pulled your underwear back up, running to stir the pasta with your wooden spoon. As soon as you got the water to settle, your timer went off, signaling that it was done.

You grabbed Frank's strainer (which was actually one of yours that you brought over to encourage Frank to eat better) and drained your spaghetti over the sink. While you were shaking out all the water droplets, you looked up to find Frank moping with his head resting in his hand.

"Oh, come on," you said, noticing his pouty face. "What did you want me to do, let your kitchen burn down?"

"You can't start a fire with spaghetti."

"You'd be surprised."

"I just needed five more minutes, baby. That's it," Frank complained.

"Five more minutes and we'd be eating spaghetti-flavored mush," you retorted. "Besides, dinner's just about ready now. You've only gotta wait another half hour, and then you can have whatever you want."

Frank brightened slightly at the prospect, though he tried to hide it. Turns out, after four years of dating, you learn to spot the little emotions flickering behind your partner's eyes.

"Why are you doing this to me, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Don't pretend like you're not enjoying it."

"I just wanna touch you. Why won't you let me touch you, hmm? I know you want me to," Frank grumbled.

"I did let you touch me," you argued back lightheartedly.

"Yeah, but that wasn't part of the plan, was it baby? You're still trying to stay away from me."

"Why does it matter what I'm trying to do if you got what you wanted anyway?" you reasoned.

"I didn't get what I wanted."

"Tough luck. You will."

"You would've lost if it weren't for those fuckin' noodles," Frank jeered.

"Why do you think I set so many timers?"

*ding*

You switched off the oven and grabbed some potholders to extract your garlic bread.

"Go sit at the table. I'll bring you a plate," you ordered.

Frank sighed, but he did as he was told. As the two of you ate together, you actually had a very nice conversation, laughing and talking about your days as if nothing had even happened. Frank told you about a guy that was trying to save the ugliest, most broken car that had ever entered the shop. You told Frank about the return of one of your nightmare customers. For the entire time you were seated at the table, there was no torture whatsoever on either part. You were both content to celebrate your anniversary with good food and the best company you could ask for.

When you were finally done eating and talking, it had been well over half an hour, but it didn't feel like it. Your time spent with Frank never dragged on endlessly like it seemed to elsewhere. His presence was like a multipurpose drug to you, and it worked better than any stimulant or depressant you could find in even the sketchiest of back-alleys in Hell's Kitchen. There was no doubt in your mind that you had found the person you would be spending the rest of your life with.

You stood up to begin clearing your dishes, but Frank caught your wrist before you could touch a single utensil.

"Oh, no you don't," Frank said, pushing you back down into your chair. "You did the hard part, let me handle all the easy stuff."

"Yes, sir," you giggled, watching him work. When everything was cleared, you joined Frank in the kitchen, where you found him rinsing the dishes with warm water and loading them into the dishwasher.

Copying what he had done to you earlier, you wrapped your arms around his midsection, hugging him tightly and pressing your face against his back. He patted your arm with his wet hands, and you smiled into his shoulder before wiping it off on his shirt. Closing your eyes, you relaxed into him, enjoying his warmth and his familiar scent.

"You can just leave them in the sink for now," you suggested sleepily.

"Now who's impatient?" Frank teased.

Groaning softly, you gave him one more big squeeze before letting go and walking away down the hall.

"When you're ready, you can come meet me in the bedroom," you called behind you. Frank finished up pretty quickly after that.

He entered the bedroom to find you laying down with your eyes closed. Smiling at how peaceful you looked, he carefully laid down on the bed next to you. Almost immediately, you rolled over on top of him, enjoying the feeling of his warm chest against your face. He was like your own personal space heater, which made him very useful to have around in the colder months.

You shivered at the feeling of his hand running through your hair. 'How did I ever relax before I met him?' you wondered. You felt dangerously close to falling asleep, and as good as that sounded, there was something you had been looking forward to for a while that sounded significantly better.

Forcing yourself to sit up, you sat straddling Frank's stomach, staring into his eyes and waiting for him to make the first move. You had been having fun all evening; the night belonged to him now.

"I know what you were after earlier, sweetheart. You look a little tired now, is that still what you want?" he asked. He was always so gentle with you. Even when he really wasn't.

"Yeah," you confirmed, "But I want you to do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want, huh? That's a dangerous thing to say, baby."

"I trust you," you whispered. "And I already know I'm gonna like it, whatever you decide."

Frank hummed, running his hands up and down your thighs as he thought about what to do first. You knew he had reached a decision when he grabbed you and tossed you onto the bed beside him. You yelped at the sudden motion, looking over at him to see exactly what it was he was trying to do.

Frank was taking his belt off. He slid over to sit in front of you, belt in hand, and pulled you back onto his lap.

"You know I can't let you get away with all that bullshit you pulled back there, right?" he asked patronizingly.

"I mean. . . you could," you responded.

Frank scoffed. "You should shut your mouth before you make this worse for yourself. You wanna get to the fun part, don't you?"

"This is the fun part," you confessed.

Frank grabbed your jaw roughly with one hand, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him.

"You're gonna take that back in a minute, baby," Frank growled. He released your jaw to catch both your wrists in his hands, pinning them behind your back.

"All I wanted when I got home was to make my pretty girl feel good, but you decided to be a fuckin' brat." There was a darkness in his eyes that you knew was just for show, but it thrilled you all the same. "I'm gonna show you exactly what that feels like."

Holding both your wrists in one hand, he took his belt and wrapped it tightly around them, latching the buckle and securing them together. When he was sure it would hold and wasn't too uncomfortable, he pushed you off his lap so you were laying on your back on the bed.

"Now," he said, "I'm gonna finish what we started."

He immediately sprung into action, forcibly spreading your legs and slipping your panties all the way down. He tossed them aside and fit himself between your legs, leaning in to kiss you. At first you weren't sure how this was supposed to be a punishment, but you figured it out pretty quickly.

Frank kissed you so deeply, tugging at your hair and tracing your curves with his fingertips. He gripped your waist and your thighs, his dull fingernails leaving behind little indents when he'd get carried away. He could put his hands all over you, wherever and whenever he wanted, but you couldn't do the same. You wanted to pull him closer and squish his biceps teasingly to make him laugh. You wanted to feel his stubble in your hands and rub his shoulders as he bit your neck. You never realized how important your hands were when kissing someone until they were taken from you.

As Frank took to reinforcing the fading red marks he left earlier, he slipped a hand between your thighs to cup your dripping pussy in his palm. You gasped as he used the heel of his hand to rub it a few times, the pressure creating an addictive friction that had you grinding down against him.

Without warning, he slid two fingers inside you, finding your g-spot with practiced ease and stroking it gently. You cried out softly at the sudden stretch. Frank's fingers filled you up so much better than yours ever could. Sometimes you swore he knew more about what made you feel good than you knew about yourself.

Your thighs shook as he began pumping his fingers slowly in and out, stopping every so often to grind his palm against your clit. Your arms were falling asleep underneath you, but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of Frank's hair tickling your stomach as he moved down to replace his fingers with his tongue.

You whined at the loss when he pulled his hand away, but your disappointment didn't last long as he truly began to finish what he'd started. Your thighs clamped down around his head when you felt the first swipe of his tongue, but he forced them back open, his wet fingers marking your thigh with your slick.

You moaned as he gave your cunt several long licks, cleaning up the moisture that had pooled between your folds. The need to reach out and push his head down or grab onto his hair was overwhelming, but you couldn't move. All you could do was take what he gave you. When he decided you'd had enough teasing, he dove in fully, eating you out like it was his favorite thing in the world. He tongued at your clit, sucking it at random intervals to see what noises he could coax out of you. Sometimes, he would lap gently at your entrance, just barely dipping inside so you could feel how empty you really were. He gave you one more rough lick before plunging his fingers back inside you and sucking hard at your clit. You almost sobbed as you came over his hand, trembling through your release. Frank groaned softly against you, enjoying the feeling of your walls fluttering and pulsing around any part of him.

He patted your thighs lovingly, coming up from between your legs to kiss you. You were still slightly out of it and breathing heavily, but tasting yourself on Frank's tongue brought you back to the present.

"See what you did to me now?" he asked when he pulled away.

"Yeah," you breathed.

"Think we're even, then?"

"Uh-huh," you answered, struggling to sit up with your hands tied.

"I don't."

"What?"

"I didn't let you touch me, but I still made you feel good, didn't I? All you ever did was tease me. Do you still think we're even, baby?" Frank questioned, stroking your lip with his thumb.

"No," you mumbled.

"So what are you gonna do about it?"

Instead of responding verbally, you parted your lips and sucked his thumb gently into your mouth. After a few seconds, Frank pulled it out and replaced it with the two fingers that had previously been inside you, encouraging you to clean them off.

"That's a good start." Frank pulled his fingers back, satisfied with your work. "But you're gonna need to do more than that, sweetheart."

You hesitated, trying to figure out how you were supposed to lean forward without falling flat on your face.

"You know what I want, baby," he encouraged. "What are you waiting for?" Frank knew very well what you were waiting for, but his sadistic side wanted to watch you figure it out.

Rising up onto your knees, you spread your thighs apart for better balance, and slowly began to lower your head towards Frank's zipper. You made it all the way down without crashing, but you refused to make a fool out of yourself by trying to unbutton his pants with your teeth. Instead, you gazed up at him desperately, pleading for assistance with just your eyes.

Unfortunately, Frank wasn't budging. He raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, letting you know you were gonna have to work for it. Huffing, you lowered your gaze back to the zipper, bracing yourself for your impending embarrassment. You were just about to attack his button with your tongue when you were struck by an idea. There was more than one way you could work for it.

Leaning in closer, you started mouthing at his bulge, kissing it wetly through the fabric. You could tell it was affecting him by the way he twitched under your tongue when you licked lovingly at (what you hoped was) the tip. Using your nose, you nudged at the hem of Frank's t-shirt, and he pulled it up for you so you could leave little red marks and sweet kisses across his abs. Frank grunted quietly when you sucked at a sensitive spot, petting your head softly so you'd do it again. He was really enjoying the sight of you bent over, begging for his cock with your mouth. So much so, that he almost didn't want to give it to you.

He held out for a while, only giving in when the warmth of your mouth soaked fully through his jeans, wetting his dick and making him want more.

"Shit, alright," he groaned, reaching down to unzip his jeans. He tugged them down just enough to get to his boxers, reaching inside to pull out his hard, leaking cock.

"There," he murmured, tapping it sweetly against your cheek. "Have at it, pretty girl."

You were concerned about catching it in your mouth without your hands, but Frank generously decided you didn't have to everything on your own. When you turned your head towards it, he held it still and fed it to you slowly, stroking your hair as you went at your own pace.

You paused for a little while in the beginning to pay attention to his dripping head, laving at the sensitive bottom and sucking softly at the tip. You left a dainty lick on his slit before you took more of him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around his length. You stared up at him as you dragged your tongue teasingly along the underside, tracing a prominent vein that you were very familiar with.

Frank's breathing was getting heavier, letting you know you were doing a good job. Feeling emboldened, you carefully took him all the way to the base, choking softly as he hit the back of your throat.

"Attagirl, fuck," Frank breathed, pushing your head down farther. He held you there for a moment, subtly grinding his cock against the roof of your mouth. Jolting at the feeling, he pushed a little too hard by accident, triggering your gag reflex. You pulled back to catch your breath before continuing to bob your head up and down along his length, taking him as deep as you could without coughing. Before long, your jaw was aching and tears were streaming down your cheeks from choking a few too many times.

Finally, after nearly fifteen minutes of working Frank over with nothing but your mouth, he groaned deeply, signaling his impending release.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna-" he warned, sighing as he came in hot ribbons down your throat. You closed your eyes and relaxed into the feeling of his cock pulsing on your tongue, waiting for it to soften slightly before letting it fall from your mouth.

You sat back up and watched Frank pull his pants the rest of the way off before tucking himself back into his underwear.

"Are we even now?" you asked.

"Yeah, I'd say so," Frank smiled. "Come here, I'll get you untied real quick."

You turned away from him so he could take the belt off you, wiggling your fingers and rolling your wrists to regain the feeling you had lost in your hands. Twisting back around, you pounced, knocking him flat on his back and pushing his shirt up as far as it would go. Making up for lost time, you began rubbing at his chest and his shoulders, and tracing his abs with your fingertips. He chuckled at your neediness, pulling his shirt off to give you better access, which you happily took advantage of. Cradling his face in your hands, you left dozens of little kisses all over his mouth and his neck. It felt so good to be able to touch him again, you didn't think you would ever let go.

Still holding you close to him, Frank turned so his back was against the headboard and he could cuddle you in a more comfortable position. For a while, you laid in silence, syncing your breathing with his and seeing if you could find a way to match your heartbeats. So far, not much luck, but you were sure you'd figure it out someday.

Checking the clock on the nightstand, you saw that you'd been laying there for about ten minutes. "That should be enough time," you thought. You looked up to find Frank's eyes closed, but you knew he was awake.

"Frankie?" you called, almost inaudibly.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think it's time for the 'fun part' now?"

Frank smiled. "Do you want it to be?"

He opened his eyes, watching you closely as you unfastened your bra in the back, and slipped it off slowly. You dropped it on the bed beside you, leaving you completely exposed for Frank to admire you.

"Yeah, I do," you whispered.

Frank surged up to kiss you again, this time much gentler than before. He ran his hands up your sides to tenderly massage your bare chest. You whimpered into the kiss as he rubbed at your nipples, the little buds sensitive from being previously neglected.

Feeling impatient, you tugged his boxers down and quickly began stroking his growing length. Frank hissed at the shock, but he was thrusting up into your hand before too long. As soon as he was half hard, you lifted up and positioned his cock at your entrance before sinking down all the way. You cried out at the intrusion, feeling him curve perfectly inside you to brush your sweet spot on every thrust.

You sat there for a minute, just barely circling your hips as you focused on the feeling of him hardening fully inside you. When he was finished growing, you began to ride him, slowly pushing your body up and down on his cock as he raised his hips to meet you half-way.

Frank punched little noises out of your chest with every bounce, leaning in to hide his face in your neck. He breathed in the wonderful scent of sweat, sex, and expensive perfume, groaning desperately into your skin.

After a while of thrusting and grinding and bouncing, your thighs began to ache, and you weren't able to maintain the same speed anymore. Picking up on your sudden change, Frank took charge almost on autopilot, and flipped you over so you were underneath him.

You moaned at the relief and the change in tempo as he fucked into you faster and harder and deeper, but still with so much love and care behind every movement. When you caught his eyes, it felt like you were staring into your future, and you saw nothing but inevitable happiness.

Your gasps and whines got louder and louder as you chased your release. Your soaked cunt was pulling Frank back in harder, squeezing tight around him to try and keep him from pulling out. Every sensation you were feeling kept building and building until finally, the tension snapped. You almost screamed as your climax washed over you like a rising tide, whiting out your vision and sending waves of pleasure washing over you.

Frank was right behind you, as the feeling of your walls constricting and fluttering around him pushed him over the edge. He came deep inside you, filling you up perfectly before pulling out carefully and collapsing beside you.

The two of you laid next to each other, holding each other tightly and soaking up the afterglow permeating the air all around you. You couldn't have asked for a better anniversary, or a better special someone to share it with. In that moment, as you got ready to drift off to sleep, everything was perfect.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

#frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader #jon bernthal #jon bernthal smut #jon bernthal x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x you #the punisher

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mwrmaidluvz · 11 months

Note

rockstar!hobie x black!fem!reader - where the reader is his makeup artist and she falls for him during their time together and one day before a show hobie makes eye contact w/ her while she does his makeup and she gets all nervous and she confesses her feelings for him without thinking then smooch smooch

Unexpected romance ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ☆ 🎸

✎ᝰ: Aged up! Rockstar Hobie x Black! Fem reader, I tried to make this like a lil spice cause im just that girl but..I don’t think it kinda came out how I interpreted it to be like in my head but my heart is melting tysm for the requests and love! I deleted a request I replied to by accident and idk how to get it back 😭 pls help. I also wrote this fully smut with aftercare and everything and It came our so bad as I read it so I just kept it like this. Please make more requests guys ! I’m mostly drawn to Miles , Earth 42 Miles and Hobie and Miguel so yea!! I need to practice more 💀, so be patient because more is coming soon! Not proof read btw

“Hey Hobsta’ ”

You said turning around to face the Punk rockstar. He sat down in your makeup chair,

“I told you not to call me tha’, didn’t I? Yk I ain't big about labels’.” He winked then, watched you shuffle around your desk for makeup. You gave him the most devious smirk that screamed, Idgaf as you turned around with your supplies. You then looked down at him before doing his eyebrows, Your titties where right in front of his eyes and nose, he was staring at them. They where just pulling him in a trance, longing, to be touched and squeezed and-

"Hobie? You good?" You say snapping him out of his titty dream.

"M?' Yea luv' just peachy."

You then, lock eyes with him, god, this boy was dangerous. He was gorgeous.

"You seem a bit nervous hun." He smirks. You then move quickly snapping out of your fantasy to get an eyeshadow brush. You cover it up in black eyeshadow and continue his makeup. A moment of awkward silence until you break it.

“Who’s the lucky guy that’s got you all Head over heels hmm?” Hobie says

"It's you.'" You mumble.

It takes him a second to process what you had just said. "Huh?"

“I-I nevermi-“

Your glossy lips come in contact with soft plump lips. You jump in suprise ruining his eyeliner. He stands up and watches how you’re eyes go from looking down at him before looking way up to him. Hobie gently pins you against the dresser/table. The cold table pressing against your exposed backside, due to your lace crop top. Hobie kisses you and you guys stay like that for a while until you both remember. You have to breathe. You both pull back panting from the intimate moment you both just shared. You then lean in and wrap your hands around his neck. And the kisses become more sloppy, more needy, Hobie wants to feel and explore every single curve on your body. You slightly moan as he slides his tounge into your mouth. You open your mouth for more access, the room is filled with open mouth moans from you and groans and praises from Hobie. Drool escapes from your lips and Hobie asks,

“You sure you wanna do this hun’?” Hobie says

“I am. But don’t you have to be on stage in 14 minutes?”

“ ’ll give us enough time.”

#into the spiderverse x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #spiderpunk x reader #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #smut #fluff #Spiderpunk #atsv

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pedropascallme · 26 days

Text

Didn’t You Miss My Voice?

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Summary: “‘I miss you, too.’ You sighed, ‘Wanna show you, Damien.’ You kicked the sheets off your lower half, sending them down the bed and letting your legs spread slightly in anticipation. ‘Can I show you how much I miss you?’”

Warnings: Phone sex, masturbation (f & m), praise, kinda soft!Dom Damien, panty sniffing involved i repeat panty sniffing involved!! Damien wants to fuck you so bad it makes him look stupid. If I missed anything please let me know!

When he left for PAX East, he had taken one of your sweatshirts, worn it on the plane to self-soothe, and planned to sleep in it or near it the next few nights so he could dream that you were closer.

Damien liked having something of yours nearby. On days or weeks that he was away, he packed any article of clothing of yours that he could, just to be able to envision you nearby.

It had started accidentally, after he packed a shirt of yours that looked near identical to one of his for a con. From then on it had become second nature to bring along something of yours for the allotted time that he would be away from home—away from you—so that he didn’t get as homesick. He didn’t think you had even noticed; the five shirts he wore on rotation could never compare to the dozens of various outfits that overflowed from your dresser.

He was fully convinced that his thievery had gone unnoticed by you. So, when he opened his suitcase on day three of being away, rooting around in it to find something comfortable to sleep in, and felt something silken and lacy at his fingertips instead of the flannel pajama pants he was expecting, he couldn’t help the genuine shock that hit him. Damien pushed the surrounding heap of his own clothes away and pulled out the piece of fabric that he had come across.

He held up the soft pink panties, swallowing upon recognizing them as the ones you had worn the night before he left; how you’d ground your hips against his and let him pull the lacy material to the side so that he could see how pretty you looked in them while you came undone on his cock.

He felt lightheaded.

The blood must’ve rushed elsewhere.

There was a note safety-pinned to the waistband, and he undid the clip before letting himself read what it said.

I miss you. Call me when you find these? <3

Your handwriting made his heart swell. God, he missed you. Even after only three days, he missed you so much.

Damien hurried to your contact in his phone. You picked up on the first ring.

“I was waiting for this call.” He could hear your smile, imagining the way your lips curled against the phone’s mic. You had been in bed when he called, his smell lingering on the pillow you had tucked under your head.

“You’re too good to me,” Damien could feel the heat rising in his face, “You’re really, really, too good to me.”

“Thought I hadn’t caught on to your light robbery?”

“Are you accusing me of a crime?” He laughed, and the sound made you feel warm.

“I’m just saying, there are only so many times I can misplace a shirt that suddenly reappears when you come home until I begin to suspect something.” You giggled, hoping he knew you weren’t at all mad. “It’s cute, actually. You know that?”

“Me?” He returned the lighthearted banter. He held your underwear in a closed fist, keeping them close to his chest. “What, uh—what made me so deserving of this…gift?” His voice got deeper on the last word, and you bit your lip.

“Didn’t want you to leave without a reminder of what was waiting for you at home.”

“I have your sweatshirt, baby.” He sat on the mattress, reaching out with his hand still wrapped around your panties to touch the hoodie he’d taken from you, laid out next to him on the bed. “And even if I didn’t, you know I’m always thinking of you.”

“I know,” you verified, “But I like making sure. Didn't you miss my voice, baby?”

“I know,” he echoed your words. “And I did—I do. Miss your voice. I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” You sighed, “Wanna show you, Damien.” You kicked the sheets off your lower half, sending them down the bed and letting your legs spread slightly in anticipation. “Can I show you how much I miss you?”

Damien had to stifle a groan, already eager from just the sound of your voice and the way you whined his name. “Yeah? You want to show me?”

You nodded, before remembering he couldn’t see you. “Yes—yeah.”

Though he was reluctant to put your panties down, he managed to part with them briefly before undoing his fly with one hand. His other hand gripped his phone, knuckles going white as he tried to make up for the physical absence. He brought his hand up when he finished unfastening his jeans, retrieving your panties from the spot he’d left them in on the bed. He brought them to his face and inhaled the piquant scent; sharp and stimulating and perfect—just like you—in a way that your sweatshirt could never replicate. He hesitated to wrap his hand around his cock, palming himself through his boxers to make this last as long as he could draw it out for. “You gonna listen to what I say even though I’m not home?”

“Always.” Your response was immediate, and he could tell by the strain in your voice that you were just as needy as he was. “I promise.”

“That’s my good girl,” He squeezed his bulge, still trying to exercise patience and allow himself time to play with you. “I’m giving you permission to touch, baby. One finger, can you do that for me? Rub your clit nice and slow?”

“Yeah.” You whimpered into the phone, thrilled by the way his voice lowered when he talked you through the act. You let out a small gasp when you touched yourself—half for show, and half because you’d been good while he was gone, not allowing yourself to play with what was his. You were sensitive in the most premier of ways.

“How’s that feel?” He asked, biting his tongue upon hearing your moans.

“Good,” you murmured.

“Better than when I do it?” His eyelids felt heavy, the sound of your quiet, breathy noises acting like a sort of relaxant.

“No—not at all. Miss your hands. Miss how you touch me.” You picked up the pace just a bit, trying to find the proper rhythm.

“Is that what you’re thinking about, princess?” He smiled, eyes closing as he finally let himself remove his cock from his boxers. “You want me to touch you?”

“Yes,” you found the proper tempo, rolling your finger over your clit in double-time with your breathing. “Come home, Damien, want your hands.”

He moaned, loving how quickly your power play had turned into you begging for him, and he wished more than anything that he could give you what you needed. He held himself at the base, teasing himself with your sounds and the light touch of his own fingers. “I’ll give you whatever you want when I come home, baby, I promise.”

“Want your hands, and your mouth—want your cock.” You pleaded, still using one finger to massage yourself, unwavering in your commitment to follow his orders.

“You can have all of me, princess—are you getting yourself all wet? How about you use your one finger and tell me how soaked you are.”

“I can put it in?” You corroborated, making sure you had permission.

“Go ahead, baby. Play with that needy pussy for me.” Damien wrapped the panties you’d sent with him around the base of his cock. He dragged the fabric up and down over himself to find some relief, coating himself with the residue of the last time he got to fuck you before leaving for the week.

You trailed your finger up your slit, collecting the slick that coated the lips of your cunt, before pushing into your entrance. You whined, and Damien pulled your panties tighter around his cock.

“Doesn’t—not as big as yours.” You complained, curling your finger against the tender spot inside of you and wishing it was his hand pressed against your cunt.

“I know, baby, but you’re doing so good.” He reassured, watching the pink fabric of your underwear as he pulled it over his length, the quiver in your words making him think of all the ways he could fuck you until you lost your voice from crying out for him. Maybe he’d have you bouncing up and down on him in the same way that he moved your panties over his cock. “You can add another finger, how about that? Is that what you need?”

“Yes, please.”

“Go ahead, princess, use two.” He listened intently at the way your breath hitched when you pushed a second finger into your hole; he could tell you had him on speaker, the squelch of your fingers thrusting into your wet cunt were amplified. He let out a quiet moan of your name, wrapping his hand around his cock and over your panties, letting his fingers manipulate the silk and press it more firmly against his length.

“Still not as good as yours,” you arched your back, picking up the pace and letting your fingertips push more forcefully against your g-spot.

“No? Not as good as when I fuck you with my fingers?” His chest rose and fell steadily, heart rate skyrocketing from the adrenaline he got touching himself paired with the knowledge that you were there on the other end making yourself feel good.

“No, yours are bigger. Fill me up so much better.” You whimpered when the pads of your fingers found the perfect nook to rest upon. The spot with heightened sensitivity that he found with such ease required you to bend your arm at a difficult angle, but it was well worth it; the tickle spread through the lower half of your body, goosebumps breaking out over your skin at the feeling. “Fuck, but it does feel good, Damien—please.”

“Please what?” He was trying not to pant, and trying harder not to beg, so desperate to hear you make yourself cum.

“Tell me how you’re touching yourself—what you’re thinking.” Your mouth hung open when you finished your thought, lost in the joy of finally having time alone with him after days of being apart, emphasized by the blissful way your fingers moved in and out of you.

“Thinking about you,” he breathed, “told you, baby, I’m always thinking about you.”

This earned a moan from you, and he tried to imagine how you looked; two fingers driving into your cunt, soaked in your own juices, trying to fuck yourself open despite knowing only he could give you what you really wanted.

His imagination didn’t do you justice. You were too perfect. He needed the real thing.

“More,” you whined, “Tell me more. Please?” You needed to hear his voice. If you couldn’t have him physically right now, you at least wanted to hear him tell you all the filthy pictures running through his mind.

“Have your panties wrapped around my cock,” he listened to you gasp at his words, proud that he could get you so excited even when he was miles away. “Thinking about all the things I want to do to you when I come home." He took a shaky breath, tightening the grasp he had on his cock and trying hopelessly to emulate the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him. "Is that what you want to hear about?"

"Yeah," you were whining, voice pitched up and breathing unsteady.

"Think maybe I’ll use my fingers on you since that’s what you seem to need so badly. Does that sound good, princess?” The image prompted by his words made him groan, bucking into his fist. The silken fabric of your panties acted as an improvised lubricant, gliding over his skin as he jerked himself off.

“Oh my god, Damien,” you used to heel of your palm to grant your clit friction, same two fingers still plunging in and out of you. “Yes, yes, need it!”

“Yeah, that’s right—use my fingers on you until you’re sore, bet you’d like that wouldn’t you? Till you can’t take anymore, then I’ll fuck you so nice, baby, make you cum one more time on my cock.” He couldn’t take his eyes off his own movements, watching, enthralled, as he brought your panties in his fist up to the tip of his cock before bringing the stroke back down and repeating the motion. “Need to feel you cum for me so fucking bad, that’s all I want.” He was whining now, frustrated and missing you. “Can’t wait to come home and give you what you deserve, baby—I want to make you feel so good.”

“You make me feel so good, Damien. Want—want you to come home,” you were so close, needing only a small push to fall off the edge now. “I’ll be so good for you, I’ll do wha—whatever you want.”

“Want you to cum for me, princess,” he gritted his teeth, trying to stave off his climax for just a little longer. “Want you to make yourself cum, baby. Need you to be a good girl and fuck yourself till you cum for me.”

His words were the push you needed; the exertion in his voice and the desperation behind his words made your abs tense as you used your fingers to make yourself cum. You cried out his name, turning your head to push your face into the pillow you could still smell him on. Your fingers stroked your most delicate spot, drawing out your high with trembling legs while you mumbled his name like a quiet prayer.

“Good fucking girl. Christ—” Damien’s jaw went slack when he heard your moans, your whimpers of his name made him feel something primal and wanting. “I’m gonna cum for you—fuck!—gonna cum with these pretty panties wrapped around me like this.” His words were stuttered, and his hips faltered as he fucked his hand, spilling into his fist and over the shirt he’d failed to take off.

The two of you breathed heavily over the phone, the sound of both your gasps overtaking both rooms despite the miles between you.

"I miss you so much." Damien wheezed, lazily wiping off the cum that dribbled over his skin with his shirt.

"I could tell," you laughed, drained but feeling carefree and light after unwinding with him like this.

"What gave it away?" You could picture him over the phone, face matching his question; smile wide and brow creased as he held back a laugh.

You shrugged, aware that he couldn't see you but certain that he would pick up on the sarcasm in your quiet "I dunno."

"That was ok, right? You feel ok?" His voice was softer, the force in his words diminished and replaced with his typical kindness. "Tired?"

"Tired." You confirmed, yawning. "Come home."

"Two more days."

"That's too long." You protested, and he laughed quietly.

"I promise I'll make it up to you." Damien meant it wholeheartedly; he wanted to make sure you knew that every time he left, he could only ever think about coming home to you.

"I know you will." And you knew he was telling the truth.

There was a moment of quiet, both of you still breathless and stretching the ache in your joints following your impromptu rendezvous.

"Will you stay on the phone with me?" His voice was small. He still got nervous asking you to do things like that, feeling like a lovestruck teenager and unable to hide his timidity despite having heard you scream his name while you came just moments ago.

"Yes, please." You smiled, eyes closing, "Like a sleepover."

"Just like a sleepover." He sighed dreamily, tired grin painted on his face. "I love you."

"I love you, too." You settled into bed, fixing the covers and making yourself comfortable. Damien listened to you rustle the sheets, focusing on how the sound of your breathing leveled out as you dozed off.

He undressed himself, and got comfortable in the unnaturally well-made hotel bed, smiling at your soft snores and impatiently counting down the days until he could once again hold you while you slept. He grabbed your sweatshirt, placing it under his head, between himself and the pillow, and breathed in your scent.

Even when he wasn't home, he knew he had you—and you were all he ever really wanted.

#damien haas #damien haas fanfiction #damien haas fic #damien haas smut #damien haas x reader #damien haas x you #smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh fic #smosh games #smosh pit #smosh squad #smoshblr

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corazondebeskar-reads · 3 months

Text

ain't no rest for the wicked - chapter five

ain't no rest for the wicked series

five: way down below

series masterlist | prev chapter

Tess Servopoulos x f!reader x Joel Miller

words: 4k

summary: After sneaking out of Joel and Tess's apartment, you wake up in an unfamiliar place.

warnings: creator chose not to use warnings, dark-ish Joel and Tess, smuggler!Joel, smuggler!Tess, boston QZ, QZ life, poorly negotiated d/s-style dynamics, poor communication, enthusiastic consent, oral sex (m & f receiving), p in v, threesome, description of violence & wounds, canon-typical violence, canon-typical killing.

Welcome to the end, my friends. I omitted a specific warning due to spoilers. If you need to know before you read, DM me.

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

When you come to, head pounding, it’s on an old dining chair with cheap metal legs and a moth-eaten seat. Your hands have gone to pins and needles from the rope that burns when you try to flex them, bootless feet in a similar predicament. The cloth stuffed in your mouth tastes metallic, though you don’t seem to have bled.

You’re swimming through static. You think you might throw up.

Wherever you are is long abandoned, which doesn’t really help narrow it down. It was maybe a break room, once, with a shattered microwave and the cupboards askew.

A tall, spindly man in a Mets hat leans against the counter. He’s bundled in a jacket while yours is missing.

You take comfort in that it’s the only other piece of clothing you’re missing. You wiggle your toes, trying to coax a modicum of warmth back in them.

Ball Cap snubs his cigarette on the counter and leaves it there. “Nice to see you again,” he says.

You wish it wasn’t to you.

“What, don’t you recognize me?” he says.

You do, though. Of course you do. He was the one Joel beat the shit out of in that alley.

“You sure were a talker before. Aren’t you gonna give me that same offer? Your mouth for your life?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to think. Come on. Any time now, brain.

He seems to be alone. Could you take him? Probably not. Is he armed? Yes, definitely. He had struck you over the head with the butt of a gun last night.

At least, you think it was last night.

He stomps over to you and yanks your head back to look at him. “Aren’tcha gonna answer me, you little whore?”

When he sees the gag, he throws back his head and laughs. “Shit, right. Well, no point in this,” he tugs the knot loose and tosses the cloth to the ground. “Nobody’s gonna come help you, no matter how loud you scream. And kinda wanna hear it. Y’see, the boss man didn’t take kindly—”

You manage to hold your tongue, due largely in part to the tackiness of your mouth, but your lip curls a little. Is this guy for real? He’s fucking villain monologuing?

“Hey,” a nasally voice says. “Better not be starting without me.”

The newcomer is tall like Ball Cap, but beefier. He’d be more intimidating if he wasn’t sniffling and wheezing, his nose a constant faucet of mucus that pooled on his upper lip.

He coughs deeply for a minute, fist against his open mouth. The part of your brain that’s actively pretending you aren’t going to die tonight is worried about catching whatever he’s splattering across the room.

“Don’t you want to know what we want with you?” Slimy Mustache says.

“Not really,” you say before you can stop yourself.

You hear the rattle in his lungs as he steps closer. “No, you already know, don’t you?” His hand lifts, a finger stroking down your cheek. You flinch away, squeezing your eyes shut.

Slimy Mustache laughs. “Don’t worry, we’re not going to start the show without your friends.”

Friends? You don’t have—aw, fuck.

“Not my friends,” you say. “I didn’t—they were strangers, too.”

You hear it before you feel it, leaving you blinking in shock for a moment. Life may not have been great in the apocalypse, but no one’s actually hit you before.

Not like this.

Your cheek and eyes sting sharply. Ball Cap certainly hadn’t held back.

“Don’t lie. We’ve seen them coming in and out of your place, you stupid cunt.”

When he hits you this time, it’s less of a rage reaction and more for fun with a closed fist. You’re still reeling when you register the heat first, then the slick, sickening drip of blood from your nose down your lips.

“Knock it off, man,” says Slimy Mustache. “He said we had to wait for them. Ain’t gonna negotiate if she’s dead.”

“They’ll kill you,” you lie, grimacing as it invites the coppery tang into your mouth.

Ball Cap grins with a set of unusually shiny, straight teeth for a thug at the end of the world. “Nah, honey, that’s why we have you.”

You spit blood at his feet. He moves to backhand you, but Mustache tries to stop him, and it knocks him a little off course. His hand is decked out in gaudy rings, and the edge of one snags on your cheek. You gasp, and it turns into a whimper as the pain bleeds through.

“You better hope they show up soon,” Ball Cap snarls at Mustache. “Or there won’t be much left for them to find.”

It’s true, no matter how he means it. You’re not suited for this. You wish you were a secret badass with balls of steel, but you’ve given pretty much all the fight you had.

And you know no one’s coming for you.

When Tess wakes, the sun peeks through the window aggressively, and she has to shield her eyes to see Joel. He’s shaking her shoulder gently to let her know he’s leaving. He’s already bundled in his coat and hat, tugging gloves on. It’s unusual, but he doesn’t look distressed.

She sits up and stretches. “Where ya going?” she says, but she thinks she knows since the bed is empty and the apartment is quiet.

“Just gonna make sure she got home okay,” he says and kisses her. “Musta snuck out sometime in the middle of the night.”

“Yeah, I think I spooked her when I asked her to stay,” Tess admits.

“M’sure she’s fine,” he says, but he isn’t looking at her, and that’s when she realizes she misread him earlier. He is worried.

“I’m comin’,” she says, already on her feet. “You go on, take the long way, and I’ll meet you.”

He nods.

There’s only one lurking outside your apartment, but two in nearby alleys on standby. He takes them out first, silent as the falling snow, which melts as it lands in pools of hot blood.

He lets the third man catch him. There’s a pistol in his face, but he knows he’s not really in danger.

“Where’s the girl?” he growls.

“Don’t worry, we’re just showin’ her some of the same hospitality you showed my brother,” the man tells him.

He seems to think that by pointing a gun at Joel, he has the upper hand.

He doesn’t think that for long. Not when Tess’s knife sinks into his arm and twists, the gun clattering to the ground as he reflexively jerks. Joel picks it up and stuffs it in his waistband as casually as if he had just adjusted his belt. His jaw ticks as his hand wraps around the man’s throat.

“I suggest you listen real close,” Tess says, voice low and thick with danger.

“Tell us where she is,” Joel says before pointedly shifting his gaze to where Tess holds the knife buried, “and maybe you’ll be able to salvage that arm.”

He gives in so quickly he might have been able to, if they had left him alive.

“Think we made a mistake,” Ball Cap drawls. “They aren’t comin’ for this bitch.”

You don’t know how long you’ve been here, but you keep slipping in and out of awareness. Floating through something like a dream, but not enough to escape reality. Worse yet, you keep snapping back to the world, having been close to escape or rescue, a sick hope still brewing in your brain.

“That’s too bad,” Slimy Mustache says with an exaggerated pout. “I wanted them to watch.”

“Guess your pussy wasn’t good enough to save you,” Ball Cap says.

You keep your mouth shut. They’re still pretending they need a reason to hurt you, and you sure as hell aren’t going to give it to them.

They’re right, though. The late afternoon sun is dragging wearily through the clouds.

You don’t blame them. You knew the danger. You didn’t just open your door to let the tornado in; you had sex with the—no, okay, you have to retire this metaphor.

It’s okay. You knew what this was.

And what it wasn’t.

Still, you think. You’re not really keen on dying here and even less keen on what you’re pretty sure will precede it.

“I dunno. I still think we should find out for ourselves,” Slimy Mustache says.

“Not a fuckin’ chance,” someone snarls behind Slimy Mustache, a knife to his throat.

You must be delirious from fear and blood loss because your first thought is that motherfucking Batman is here. You’re at a point where you apparently genuinely believe, if only for a moment, that it’s more likely for Bruce Fucking Wayne to show up than Joel. Except why would Batman be in Boston?

There’s a gun resting against Ball Cap’s head; his namesake knocked to the dusty ground. Tess is on the other end of it. It’s hard to conflate her with anyone else; they never made a girl superhero more badass than Tess. Not that you’d say no to Wonder Woman, but who would?

You close your eyes. You’re not getting tricked by this dream again.

“That’s it, sweetheart, keep ‘em shut, okay?” Tess says.

There’s a lot of rustling fabric and soft, wet sounds muffled by agonized cries.

When hands touch your shoulders, you flinch.

“It’s just me,” she says. “Hold still just one more minute, okay? And don’t look.”

You squeeze your eyes shut tighter as she goes around the back of your chair, her hand never leaving your shoulder. It’s easier to breathe with her touch to anchor you, even through your swollen nose.

With one hand, she flicks open a blade and cuts through enough of the rope that she can tug the rest away. She doesn’t have to come up with a way to free your ankles without letting go, because Joel’s already cutting the knots.

“I gotcha,” he’s murmuring. “We’ve got ya, sunflower. Hey, look at me.”

You do, hesitantly opening your sore eyes. His broad body is blocking everything else, though there’s clear whimpering and groaning behind him. He cups your face in his hands, turning it to look at the cut on your cheek and survey the swelling.

“Don’t,” you mumble. “It’s not pretty.”

He ignores you. “We’re gonna get you home. But first, I need to know—you want me to drag it out or just kill ‘em now?”

You look up at his blank eyes. There’s viscera splattered on his shirt and face. When you crane your neck to look at Tess, still behind you with both hands on your shoulders, she’s soaked in gore.

“Not yours, right?” you say.

“Not a drop,” she promises.

You look back at Joel. “Now, please,” you whisper, even though it makes your stomach turn.

“Get her out of here,” Joel says.

“No,” Tess surprises both of you. “I’ll take care of it. I don’t think she can walk on her own.”

You remember Tess in the kitchen with the chef’s knife and how you thought she looked like an angel when you first met. They both do, now.

“I’ll meet you there,” she says, her tone offering no negotiation.

Joel doesn’t argue, though you think he looks disappointed. Like he wanted the kill.

You’re just barely aware that it should scare you. It doesn’t.

He scoops you up with no problem, as if it doesn’t strain his aging knees.

“I think I can walk,” you say.

He doesn’t dignify you with anything more than a shake of his head.

It’s not a long walk. The setting sun frames him in gold, the blood gone dark and sticky. You’re only a block from the alley you first met them in, which in turn is only two from your apartment. But by the time you get there, you’re asleep against his chest.

He sets you down gently on the bed, meaning to go looking for your first aid kit, but you dig your fingers into his shirt.

“I ain’t leavin’,” he says, gently prying them off. “Just gonna get you cleaned up, okay?”

It’s so hard to open your eyes, but you manage a few seconds to take him in. You nod and let go, but the deep pout is unshakable.

He opens the door to the bathroom and flicks the light on, stepping over the towel threshold and then nearly stomping on who, if he was forced to guess, is Georgie. Both mice scatter immediately, luckily into the wall instead of out into the open apartment.

He shuts the door to prevent an escape and rifles around your cabinet until he produces a mostly empty bottle of rubbing alcohol and some bandages.

You wake again when he sits on the bed at your side, booted feet still on the ground.

“Sit up for me, sunflower,” he murmurs, helping you up as you groan and popping a pillow behind your back. “Look at me.”

He waits until you do and hands you a glass of water. While you sip at it, he gets a better look at your nose.

“It’s not broken,” he says, and you sigh, shoulders slumping. “It’s going to be swollen for a few days, though.”

You flinch back from his touch but try to work through it. “Okay,” you whisper.

He cleans your face, murmuring to you all the while about what he’s doing. You hiss when he wipes the gash on your cheek, tears welling up at the sting.

There’s a familiar knock at the door, but Tess doesn’t wait for anyone to answer; she just slips inside.

“Not gonna need stitches, either,” he says. “You got real lucky.”

“Don’t feel lucky,” you mumble. Your eyes dart to the horseshoe. Both of theirs follow yours, and they exchange a look.

“Think you can take a bath?” she asks.

You shake your head.

“What if I get in there with you?” she offers.

You think about it, biting your lip, and nod.

Joel gets the tub filling while Tess gently peels you from your battered clothes. When he comes out of the bathroom, he’s scrubbed the blood from his skin and has his shirt hanging up to dry.

Your bath isn’t very big, but you make it work, nestled close between her legs. It’s maybe the least sexually charged moment you’ve had with them. Joel kneels on a towel and washes the blood from both of you. None of you speak.

It does help. Having it cleaned from you, having it be them who do it. Joel’s firm hand scrubbing the blood and dirt away, Tess’s steady embrace keeping you grounded.

Joel helps you each out of the bath and dries you off, swatting away your hands when you try to do it yourself. The look in his eyes is still kind of distant, so you stop protesting and let him do what he needs to do.

No one bothers with clothes. There’s no point. While the bath may not have been sexual, whatever is happening now definitely is.

You’re on your back in bed, wet hair splayed out on your pillow. Joel is on your left, and Tess is on your right, and their hands are everywhere. You clutch at them in return with each of yours.

They’re passing you back and forth for kisses, deep, consuming things with teeth and tongue and spit. You understand the “beast with two backs” thing now. Except, how would it work with three backs? Are you some kind of mutated monstrosity squished into a triangle? A pyramid of flesh and sweat and moans?

“Stop thinkin’ so much,” Joel growls against your neck, and you’re inclined to obey when his fingers find your clit. Thoughts aren’t super useful right now, and you’d like to keep most of them at bay anyway.

Even that’s a little too close, and you must tense because Tess nips at your ear and whispers, “Just focus on us, okay? Just us.”

They make it easy to lose yourself in their hands and warm mouths. You genuinely can’t tell who touches you where until you end up with three fingers in Tess’s cunt.

Joel rolls your lower half and yanks your legs where he’d like, leaving you contorted with your top half focused on Tess. He plunges into your pussy while you mouth at her tits. One of her hands cups your head to her breasts, and the other gropes at your own.

Neither of them are being rough with you, but they aren’t treating you like glass, either. You really fucking appreciate it, even if you don’t register it right away. Even while he fucks into you, Joel can’t stop his hands from roaming, smoothing over your hips and thighs and stomach.

They play you like a harp, keeping you trapped between their legs and plucking pretty sounds one after another from your taut body. There are a lot of orgasms all around, and you’re not even trying to keep track. Your head is blissfully empty, each climax wringing your brain like a sponge.

At some point, you push Joel off so you can suck his cock. Tess helps herself to feast from your cunt while you do, and somehow, when you look up, Joel’s buried his face in her as well. The circle shifts and warps but never breaks.

Eventually, they get you on your back again, and after a bit of whining on your end, Tess sits on your face while Joel has your cunt again. He switches between licking and fucking, and you actually pass out a bit this way.

When you wake, it’s to Joel getting out of bed and pulling his clothes back on. He catches sight of the look breaking across your face and shakes his head.

“I’ll be back. Runnin’ over to get her some clean clothes ‘n stuff.”

You settle back down. Tess slides an arm over your waist, and you roll over to snuggle up to her.

The next time you wake up, it’s because of the nightmares. You jerk awake with a cry, and she’s right there, rubbing your back and coaxing you to lie down.

“I know, sunflower. I’m so sorry,” she murmurs as you cry.

“I was so scared,” you whisper in the safety of the night, voice wavering.

“I know, baby. You were so brave, though.”

You don’t feel like you were very brave. You feel like you let the creeps crawl into your skin and ruin everything.

When Joel gets back, you’re still awake.

“Good,” he says. “I didn’t want to have to wake ya, but I need you to eat.”

“M’not hungry,” you say. Tess is up and getting dressed in a soft tee and sweats. She tosses you another set, and you put them on without thinking about your own clothes in the dresser.

“I know,” she says. “But you need to. It’s nothin’ much; just need to get something in ya.”

“I brought something for the pain, but you can’t have it on an empty stomach,” Joel says.

You give in and unscrew the thermos he hands you. It’s chicken noodle soup, and he presses warm bread, wrapped in cloth, into your lap.

Once you’ve satisfied their expectations, Joel drops a round white pill into your hand. “I can only give you one,” he says, laced with raw guilt. “But I got some ibuprofen for ya, too, for later.”

He hands you a glass but pauses. “It’s gonna make you sleep,” he warns.

“Okay,” you say and chase the pill with a swig of water. “I trust you.”

He winces a little, almost imperceptibly.

“I’m going to run out and talk to someone ‘bout the mess we made,” Tess says.

Joel scowls. “Can’t it wait ‘till later?”

“You know damn well it can’t,” she hisses like she doesn’t want you to hear.

“I’m sorry,” you say. They both look at you, and you sniffle. “I’m sorry I’m trouble, I’m s—”

“You cut that out right now,” Tess snaps, but her face softens right after, and she comes to sit on the bed beside you. “It ain’t your fault. We should be apologizing to you.”

“Please don’t,” you whisper.

She and Joel exchange a look.

“Alright,” she concedes. She kisses your forehead. “I’ll be back soon. Joel’ll stay with ya, okay?”

You sniffle again but nod.

They share a significant glance when she reaches the door, but say nothing. Joel locks it behind her and slides back under the covers. He tugs you to his chest, and you melt into his warm, broad shelter.

They phase in and out of your apartment all night, but never both at a time. You wake just a little at each changing of the guard, just enough to snuggle into whoever slips in and holds you.

There are murmurs and whispers; you don’t catch most of it. Just huffed breaths, a few sharp snips, and lonely words with no meaning—dawn, you hear once, and for. Or four. Or fore, you suppose, but it'd be strange to be talking about golf. Anyway, there’s no context.

They don’t break through your slumber as anything more than a soft breeze.

When morning comes, you’re alone.

It’s painfully obvious. Your tiny studio is occupied by only yourself and the ghosts. The towel is neatly stuffed against the bathroom door, betraying its vacancy.

There’s a bottle with a handful of painkillers on your kitchen counter next to a glass of water. You can tell there’s a note and something wrapped in cloth. But if you stay here, stay tucked into bed where they left you, you don’t have to see it.

It could say that they’re cleaning up the mess and they’ll be back later. It could be instructions for when to come over next.

But it’s not going to be. You don’t need to read it to know. The truth’s been trickling into your lungs since you woke up. Since last night, really.

You get up anyway, shaky legs on autopilot. You take the pills first, sipping the water, and stare at the paper. It’s bigger than their usual scraps, and neatly folded. Someone’s drawn a little flower on the outside. You wish you knew who.

When the water is gone, and you’re out of excuses, you pick up the paper with a trembling hand.

Rough capitals take up most of the page. “Be good.” You close your eyes, choking down the acid in your throat.

At the bottom is a neater, slanted scrawl. “It’s the iron.” You blink stupidly for a moment and then reach for the cloth.

It’s a flannel Joel brought over last night, clean and soft. When you pick it up, something clatters against the countertop and falls to the ground.

It’s a fucking horseshoe.

You sit, right where you had stood, legs folded and the flannel clutched to your chest with both hands. Your head droops so your nose is buried in the fabric, and you stare at the gift and let the tears burn down your cheeks.

You don’t change out of their clothes for three days.

The note gets tucked between the pages of “An Unsuitable Job for a Woman.”

The horseshoe sits on your table for weeks until you shove it under the bathroom sink. Half of you wants to bury it somewhere, afraid it might actually work.

But it’s just a horseshoe, and they’re just human. They only wanted you to think it would work—that it might protect you.

The flannel lives tangled up in your blankets. The smell of them fades fast.

You don’t return to their apartment. You think about it. Think about haunting it like they haunt yours. Think about banging on it until they tell you why.

But you know why. You saw it in the fear in their eyes that night. You had become something they could lose, and so, they had to. Quick and sharp, like their knives at the throats of those men. How could you blame them? Hadn’t you run away for the same reason?

On your loneliest nights, you think of them. You hope they’re okay. It’s never a guarantee in this world. You like to think they’re wrapped up warm and safe in bed.

On cold, sleepless nights under the starry sky, Joel likes to think the same of you.

Thank you all so much for coming along on this journey.

I hurt my own feelings with this one, y'all. Please feel free to yell/vent/talk with me about this because I am not okay.

*title from "Heaven Knows" by the Pretty Reckless.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tess servopoulos x f!reader #tess servopolous x joel miller #tess servopoulos x reader x joel miller #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos x you #tess x joel #tess x you x joel #fic: ain't no rest for the wicked

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enbyonmandalore · 1 year

Text

Test The Limits (Reader Insert Version)

Ghost & König x gender neutral reader (no y/n)

Rating: NSFW 18+

Word count: this is a long one (that's what she said, ha!)

Warnings: begging, *light* bondage/restraining, brat taming, choking, degradation/name calling, dom/sub behavior, edging, gagging, humiliation, masks stay ON, masturbation, oral (M recieving), tiny bit of overstimulation, penetrative sex, potential hate-fucking, size difference, some brief violence typical for the CoD franchise, threesome, unprotected sex, voyeurism?, characters act absolutely fucking feral, reader's genitalia is not described

Summary: Smut. Absolute filth without much plot. Ghost has enough of your attitude and decides to fuck it out of you; him and König end up taking turns on you.

A/N: This is my first time writing anything about CoD MW2 aaand also my first time attempting to write a threesome. Certain parts of dialogue and phrases are inspired by u/badjhur on reddit. Sometimes the POV kinda switches, I hope you don't mind. I've been going wild for König lately and I'm trying to bring my thoughts to paper. Enjoy!

________________________________________________________

Test The Limits

"Argh fuck!", you shouted in frustration as your face hit the floor. Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley pinned you down with his entire body weight, twisting your dominant hand onto your back, your other hand squashed underneath your own body. You'd fucked up. Again.

"Stop being so easy to pin.", Ghost said harshly. "If I were the enemy you'd be dead by now."

"Lasted longer than last time, though", you reminded him nonchalantly and coughed as he took some of his weight off of your back, letting you catch a proper breath.

"Still not good enough", he retaliated, adding something under his breath. "Fuckin' brat..."

"What did you just call me?", you snapped and turned around as much as you could. The Lieutenant didn't move. With some more struggling you managed to free yourself from under him, scootching away and staring daggers at him. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you opened your mouth to complain, but the Lt. raised a finger in your direction as a warning.

"Behave."

"Oh for god's sake, Lt., I'm just as much a member of this damn task force as you are. Price called me in for a reason and you know it. You-"

Ghost didn't let you finish your sentence. Instead he grabbed you by the ankles and yanked you towards him, scraping your elbows against the floor of the sparring ring. Now he towered over you, his arms caging you in on either side, a knee between your legs, restricting any further movement.

"I said behave.", he growled.

"Get. Off. Of. Me.", you said slowly and clearly, your tone stone cold.

But Ghost didn't budge. His icy blue eyes still fixated on you, as if expecting an ambush. That's when you felt it. You felt him press up against you and with mere inches between your bodies, there was less than a little room for speculations. The air seemed to thicken with tension over the next few seconds as you just stared in disbelief. Finally, as he hit a sensitive spot, you flinched.

"Stop that!", you protested.

"You wanna tap out, Luv? Scared you're gonna lose?", Ghost replied, ignoring you and continuing to grind against your crotch.

"Ngh- No! Just stop moving like that!"

"Like what?", he paused and you thought you saw him raise an eyebrow, "This?"

"F-fuck...!", you gasped as he full on rutted his hips against yours. You tugged at his shirt, but that changed nothing.

"This... This is hardly a fair fight, Lt. Let go!"

"Never said it was gonna be fair.", the Lieutenant clarified. "Besides, if you would just ask nicely I might let go, eh? You bloody brat."

Humiliating you even further, Ghost flipped you onto your stomach again with ease. "You're making this too easy." Between strained breaths and frustrated struggling, you managed to growl: "At least take the damn knife off my back."

Ghost's dry chuckle made your entire body stiffen at once. "That ain't no combat knife you're feeling there, Luv..."

Oh.

Once it finally clicked in your head, his entire behavior made sense. Jesus H. Christ, he was doing it on purpose.

"Come on, operator, get up", Ghost taunted, pulling you to your feet, "See what you've been rubbing up against all fucking night."

You bared your teeth at him out of pure instinct. The movement was so quick you felt your bottom lip split open and tasted blood.

"You're so goddamn full of yourself!"

"Quite the opposite.", the Lieutenant replied and took a step forward. You refused to back down. Ghost's gaze locked onto yours, analyzing you. He reached behind himself and revealed a ziptie, pulling it tight around your wrists within a split second, pushing you against the wall behind you. You were speechless.

"W-what the fuck, Lt.?", you finally managed to sputter.

There was nothing you could do - exhausted from sparring, backed against a wall and your hands were quite literally tied. To say you were in a jam would be a tremendous understatement. A hand traveled to your throat, applying pressure and enforcing eye contact.

"Who do you think you are? Who gave you permission to act like a sour fucking tart, hm? What is your problem?" Ghost looked you up and down. "Look where that's gotten you."

"Could ask you the same bloody question!", you spat, seeking any sort of leverage on Ghost's wrist to prevent him from potentially choking you out. He just stared, condescendingly. "Eversince I got here, you've been looking at me like you're a starving dog and I'm some sort of fucking treat."

Ghost's eyes narrowed dangerously, maybe there was a sadistic smile under that mask, but you'd never know for sure. When he spoke, his voice was low and gravelly.

"Consider this punishment... or consider this me spoiling your bratty behavior. You can still tap you, Love, but once we get started, there's no turning back."

"Oh so you think it's that easy to get in my pants, then?", you chuckled dryly, thankful for the dim light concealing the fact that you might be blushing. "Do your fucking worst, then."

"Very well."

Ghost didn't wait a second longer, he grabbed you by the neck and spun you around, slamming your chest into the wall. His hands slid down your sides, all the way to your belt. You didn't need to look - the sound of the quick-release clasp coming undone was enough to prepare you for what would come next. Once again you were thankful he didn't see your face or the excited grin plastered across it. Ghost pulled down your uniform pants and undershorts in once go, helping you lift your feet to fully get rid of the pants.

"Well, well...", he muttered, his gloved hands back on your body, thumbs caressing the dips in your hips. "Bloody amazing figure you got, soldier."

You could almost feel his breath on your skin, that's how close he'd gotten. You skin tingled where he touched it. When the Lt. pressed himself against your ass, you could barely contain an excited whimper. He turned you back around to face him, shoving a knee between your thighs and pinning you to the wall on your tiptoes, hands above your head. Fuck, that felt amazing. Never in a million years had you ever imagined to enjoy being overpowered by a man like this...to be turned on by it.

It caught you off guard when he suddenly dropped you, taking two steps back. Your ass hit the cold concrete floor, your bindings snapping as you scramble to cover yourself. Reality check. You could feel a new pair of eyes lingering on your skin and turned your head in that direction so fast it almost made you dizzy. A shadowy figure loomed in the doorway.

"König", Ghost's voice broke the silence, "What a bloody fuckin' surprise."

He closed the distance between himself and the other soldier in only a few steps, grabbing a fistful of König's shirt and yanking him all the way into the room. You heard König stutter something unintelligible, Ghost not even bothering to respond to him.

"Just in time.", Ghost announced to neither of you in particular. "I was about to teach our new teammate a lesson and now you both and learn one at the same time."

He let go of König, glaring at you still cowering on the floor. König instinctively raised his hands, attempting to appear non-threatening as he towered over both of you.

You slowly regained your composure, still acutely aware that your lower half was exposed. What you also noticed, was that König had closed his eyes underneath the sniper hood - the eyeholes were completely black now, as if he wasn't even there. You shifted around until you were at least in a less awkward position. This did not go unnoticed by the Lieutenant.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, Sir", König spoke, "I only heard commotion..."

When Ghost did not answer, he continued rambling, obviously flustered. "I- I can walk back out and this never happened, okay? I didn't even see anything-"

"No.", Ghost interrupted, "You both have had problems staying focused lately and you've become liabilities to the entire team. So, to help you get it together, you are going to practice following orders. Right fucking now."

You exchanged a nervous glance with König.

"Hey", Ghost barked in your direction. "Eyes on me. Don't look at him, he's not gonna help you."

As soon as your gaze had focused back on Ghost, the Lieutenant continued his angry speech: "You aren't very quiet going about your business, König, and you", he glared at you, "You talk in your sleep."

In that moment the realization that Ghost had heard something definitely not meant for his ears hit both König and you. You hadn't known you talked in your sleep, much less that Ghost had apparently been within earshot while you slept. And if you weren't mistaken, you could see the awkward shift in König's posture as well. What on earth had Ghost heard him say - or do?

Ghost's hand shot forward and grabbed you by the collar, pulling you into a kneeling position, your hands on his wrist to steady yourself. Then Ghost nodded towards a chair against the back wall of the room.

"Operator, sit down. And don't move."

Wordlessly, König followed the Lt.'s order. As soon as he had sat down, Ghost returned his attention to you. You felt his cold stare basically penetrate your skin and set it on fire...

"You. Up.", he ordered and you complied. Ghost then moved the both of you closer to König, right in the middle of his field of vision. Your heart was racing by now. What was he doing?

"On your knees, soldier."

You watched as Ghost positioned himself in front of you, your back facing König. He stepped closer and you now made direct eye contact with the considerable bulge in the Lieutenant's pants. Instinctively you gulped. Shit, was he really about to make König watch as you gave him head?

Apparently the answer to that was Yes.

It could have been your imagination, but you swore you heard the faintest sigh of relief as Ghost undid his belt, unzipped the fly and pulled out his fully erect cock. The size of which both startled and excited you. With one hand he lifted your chin while the other, slowly and almost carefully snaked around to the back of your head.

"Now, Love, you are gonna suck my cock and do it well, understood?"

You answered immediately, a grin tugging at your lips. "Don't be shy, I can take it, Lt."

Next thing you knew, Ghost forced open your mouth with his thumb and shoved his cock inside. You fought your gag reflex, his cock was really testing the limits of what you found yourself capable of. You carefully started bobbing your head, hands gripping Ghost's thighs for support, working your tongue around the fat tip, sucking on it before taking more of his cock down your throat. You'd never believe it if you weren't hearing it yourself, but Ghost -stone cold as he usually was- was a horny rambler.

"That's it...", he pulled his cock out of your mouth, allowing you to catch a breath; maintaining eye contact the entire time. "Oh, fuck- You see that? That perfect ring of spit on my cock..."

You swallowed thickly between breaths and gave the Lieutenant a crooked smile. Provocatively you licked your bottom lip and glanced up at him.

"You can do it, yeah, open wide", he said, his voice low and breath ragged, before guiding your head back down his cock. You could taste the precum now and each time he hit the back of your throat you felt the knot in your own stomach tighten.

"Ah God, f-fuck!", Ghost moaned and gripped your head with both hands, holding it in place. He momentarily tore his gaze away from you to look at König. "Enjoying the show?"

"Gott, Scheiße...", König panted and bucked his hips in a futile attempt to feel something, anything. Oh, he needed to be touched. He wanted to fuck both you and Ghost and it was pure torture to sit there, hands behind his back and not allowed to move as you took Ghost's dick so eagerly. God he wished that were him. He felt his own hard-on throb with every sound your mouth made and with every word of praise from Ghost. His eyes rolled back in his head as he imagined what it your feel like to pin the Lieutenant against a wall and kiss him, right before fucking him so hard the wall might crack. What it would feel like to have you on top of him, a spiteful smirk on your face as you ruthlessly rode him like there was no tomorrow, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips...

"Bloody hell, love, you're taking me so well", Ghost sputtered as he thrust himself into your mouth. "Come on... promise I'll make this worth your while."

You held onto his thighs for dear life as tears and spit ran down your face, accompanied by messy, lewd gagging sounds.

"That's it, that's it- Ohh FUCK"

His breath caught in his lungs as his cock pulsed, emptying his load down your throat. Fighting the urge to gag, you swallowed, gripping Ghost's leg so hard it might bruise. With an exhausted, guttural moan Ghost finally let go and you fell backwards, gasping for air.

Ghost recovered from his high quickly, barely giving you the chance to wipe the drool off of your face before dragging you to a large storage crate. He turned you around, his chest pressed against your back, and sat down, effectively pulling you onto him as he lay down on the crate. You watched as he removed his gloves. Your entire body was tingling with arousal by now and being thrown around like a rag-doll wasn't helping. You felt the blood rush between your legs and you were almost certain Ghost knew. He nudged your legs further apart with his own.

"You really can take me, love.", Ghost growled into your ear, grabbing your jaw from behind and turning your head towards König. "Now how 'bout him?"

"Haah- please-", you whimpered and squirmed in his iron grip. You were becoming more desperate by the second, you needed to be touched - or even better: railed into oblivion.

Ghost's icy eyes fixated on König and the other soldier froze in his chair.

"Your turn, operator", the Lieutenant said with a nod.

König stood up slowly, having to concentrate on every move as he approached Ghost. God, it was such a pretty sight to see you so sprawled out and desperate...so pretty.

"Fuck them. That's an order!"

"Y-Yessir!", König replied and quickly undid his pants with trembling hands.

You gasped upon seeing König's size. He was probably larger than the Lt. in every goddamn aspect. Would that thing even fit? Standing between your open legs, he almost hesitantly lay a bare hand on your thigh and lightly pressed his fingertips into your skin and you whimpered once again. Ghost still held your jaw tightly, watching König like a hawk.

As if to reassure himself that this was what you wanted, König sought eye contact. He stroked himself a couple of times first, before lining his hard cock up with your entrance. You gave him a meek nod and practically started begging as his tip nudged against your hole.

"Fucking hell, please! Please just fuck me, König, please please please!"

König felt his cock twitch in his hand at the sound of your voice - like music to his ears. "Don't...", he whispered, barely audible, "Don't stop begging."

"Please~ Please fuck me already, big boy", you pleaded and that did it for him. Without further hesitation he pushed his cock inside you and barely managed to contain the animalistic, desperate moan building in his throat as he bottomed out. You wanted to throw your head back, but Ghost's shoulder was in the way, so you turned your face to the side, teeth gritted and eyes squeezed shut. A cold shiver ran down your spine as Ghost whispered praise into your ear again. "Come on... Good. Take all of him."

And as König set a pace to his thrusts, small whines and moans spilled from your lips.

"Ah- Yes...fuck... König, fuck- ngh"

König was enormous. He spread you open like nothing ever had before. No doubt you'd feel him for days. You could feel him in your guts, it was relentless, stretching you open and filling you so completely you couldn't think around it, couldn't do anything but cling to Ghost's hand and whine.

"Ah, sh-shit! More, please...", König demanded, underlining each word with a thrust so hard you almost cried out in pain.

"Yessir!", you groaned, slurring all the other words, "Ah- Yes, fuck me hard, I need this! Oh fuck-"

"Oh yeah, you like this, huh?", König answered your desperate cries. Ghost joined in on the taunting. "You like getting fucked by two big men, 's that it? That's why you've been acting like a fucking brat? Answer me!"

"Ahng- yes- Yessir!"

"You little tease...", König panted, his eyes cast downward, watching himself disappear inside you over and over and over.

Fucking hell... Ghost couldn't take his eyes off of the scene. König brutally slamming into you, your half-naked body on top of him. Grinding against him with each and every one of König's thrusts. And the sounds - God! Your choked, breathy moans and cries and König's deep, desperate sighs caused Ghost's heart to race. He could feel his cock beginning to harden again. His eyes rolled back in his head as he let it happen. He felt your hot breath on his hand and tightened his grip on your lower jaw, bringing his other hand up to your lips and pushing past them. He was relieved you understood the objective, as you swirled your tongue around his fingers, coating them in saliva just like you'd done with his cock moments before.

You arched your back as König repeatedly hit your sweet spot. You cried out in pleasure, begging him not to stop as you careened towards your high.

"Greedy, are we? You gonna behave for us, hm?", Ghost teased, swiping his thumb across your lips. Your eyes fluttered as you nodded vigorously.

Under you, Ghost tensed up as your ass pressed against his cock. He felt like he was about to go insane from the stimulation so shortly after his last orgasm. König gripped your hips, holding on for dear life as he chased his own high. He'd given up on trying to suppress his moans, letting you hear every sweet sound spilling from his lips.

"I'm close, so close", König stammered through gritted teeth, "Can't- Can't hold it much longer, ngh!"

You were quick to answer, speech slurred and a fucked-out expression on your face. " 'S okay! Ah- Cum with me!"

A choked moan ripped from your throat as he thrust all of himself into you. His voice gave out and his head fell backwards. You saw stars as you came undone on his cock, clenching around him. You felt him pulse, shooting his load and coating your insides with his cum.

For a moment everyone was quiet, your ragged, out-of-sync breaths the only thing disturbing the silence.

You gasped in surprise when you suddenly had Ghost's hands on your waist, pushing you down onto both his and König's dick, drawing a startled mewl from the other man. Ghost felt himself spill his seed between your sweat-soaked bodies, a deep moan rattling in his chest.

It took a moment for Ghost to come to his senses again. When he did, König had already taken a few steps back and zipped up his pants. He lifted you off of him and searched his pockets for a rag or tissue to clean the both of you up.

"That's all it took you to behave. A nice, fat cock.", he chuckled to himself.

"I think we made quite a lot of noise. We should leave before someone else comes investigating strange noises on base.", König suggested and glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the door. "If... If you want to go again, you know where to find me."

"Yeah", you agreed with a tired smile. "Better make ourselves scarce."

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This fanfiction is property of @enbyonmandalore (Tumblr). I do not own any of the characters associated with the Call Of Duty franchise. Do not repost/crosspost on other accounts or websites, edit, translate or otherwise change this piece of writing. Rebloging is fine, reposting is not.

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