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#mans has me thinking THINGS about how he sounds in the bedroom
anystalker707 · 2 days
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gonna take more than a couple hours
Pairing: Shanks x [male, amab] Reader Summary: Shanks and you have been flirting for a while. It was about time things got taken to the bedroom Tags: top shanks / lots of petnames
Requested by anon ["Yaay! I'm starving for some Shanks or Mihawk fics 😥😥 I'm glad you're doing well! ❤❤ So, could I then request amab male reader (bottom) x Shanks (top) where reader is a booze merchant, sailing the seas and selling the good stuff for both local folk and pirates, but he always has some saved for Shanks(...)"]
MASTERLIST
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          “Oh, look at who we have here!” A familiar voice rang over the sound of glasses clinking together and loud chattering. “I’m talking with you, sweetheart.” Given the proximity of the voice, you turned around from the aligned glasses on the shelf and gasped at the sight of the familiar red-haired man leaning over the counter with a grin.
“Shanks!” You gasped with a grin before leaning over to hug him. “Oh, it’s been so long! How have you been?” You pulled away and looked him up and down. No new scars, as far as you could see.
“Oh, fine, of course, ignoring when I was missing the best boy around, y’know?” Shanks winked, holding back a chuckle at the visible embarrassment across your face.
You rolled your eyes and took a deep breath. “Going to spend the night, yeah?” The golden seal of the blueish bottle came off with ease at your experienced ministrations, and the drink was placed in a large glass that you pushed toward Shanks.
“Of course. Only a couple of hours with you aren’t enough,” Shanks said as if it were obvious as he took a sip of the drink, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything. “On a side note, I hope you have enough booze for us this time. We can’t find good booze like yours anywhere else, so we’re taking everything you have.” He grinned.
“Everything?” You raised an eyebrow. “I have quite a bit in stock, so maybe it’ll be too much. Are you sure?”
Shanks clicked his tongue and tilted his head. His thumb ran along the handle of the glass, tracing the shape gently, as his ring shone under the last rays of sunlight of the day that slipped through the window. “You know me, sweetheart.”
You shrugged, breathing a chuckle. “As long as you pay well…”
“Oh, love…”
          “So…” Benn muttered through the cigarette in his mouth. “Eighteen boxes.” He looked at you for confirmation before you nodded, and he handed you the berries, waiting for you to check before walking away.
“Great,” you whispered to yourself, tucking the bills into your pocket. Having the Red Hair Pirates over didn’t only mean pleasantly escaping the monotonous routine but also a good addition to your account. You were about to return to behind the counter when an arm wrapped around your waist, and you didn’t even need to look to know who it was, placing your hands over his arm as you instinctively leaned into the embrace.
“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” Shanks pressed a kiss behind your ear with a hum. He already smelled like booze, but he drank so much that it’d take more than two bottles for him to start feeling something.
A small smile tugged on your lips. “Work, of course.” The bar was rather agitated with the Red Hair Pirates around, given how they attracted many people and how fond of partying they were. It didn’t matter where, it was all the same thing. In all the bars you’d worked, wherever you’d sell your stuff, the crew was there, down for a drink. “Got a lot of stuff to do tonight.”
Shanks’ arm tightened around your waist when you moved to grab a few empty glasses. “I don’t think so. Well, not here anyway,” he muttered, and you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm up. He was being a lot more touchy and possessive than usual… “Y’know, you could show me the bedrooms in his place. I don’t think I’ll be able to find my way back to the ship tonight,” he muttered with an audible smirk, and he certainly had fun seeing you progressively melt.
Taking a deep breath, you placed a hand over Shanks’ before facing him, furrowing your eyebrows. You weren’t sure whether you were worried or afraid or something else. “Shanks…”
“I mean what I’m saying, sweetheart,” Shanks chuckled, rubbing your side, his touch soothing. “Please?” His breath fanned against your cheek, and you had to use all your strength not to turn and kiss him right there. Not that it would matter, but you needed things at a slower pace.
“Come on,” you whispered, squeezing his arm before you stepped away and headed over to the stairs that led to the second floor of the building. The stairs creaked under your feet, and the sound of loud chatter and music became muffled in the background according to how you reached the last stairs and, eventually, the hall. “This is my— Nngh!” 
Shanks pressed his lips to yours the moment you walked into one of the rooms, yours, kicking the door close behind himself and cupping your cheek. It was something you’d wanted for so long, but you didn’t know what to do now that it was happening, your mind going blank before you could finally start kissing him back. He hummed in appreciation, deepening the kiss once you started relaxing at it.
“That’s a good boy,” Shanks whispered between kisses, muffling any attempt to answer with more kisses, pushing his tongue into your mouth until he could snatch a quiet moan from you. His thumb ran across your cheek before he finally pulled away. His gaze held yours as he locked the door behind himself. “I’ve been having you in my mind for quite a while, sweetheart, did you know that?”
Your cheeks heated up, both at his words and how he stepped closer again, kissing your shoulder softly as his fingertips peeked under your shirt. “Mm, I dunno if I believe you,” you breathed, hesitantly placing your hands on his shoulders, and you couldn’t help but grip them when he started kissing your neck. His stubble scratched your skin, tickling. It was uncomfortable, but the kisses and nipping on your skin made it seem insignificant, even more so when he bit down on your neck, snatching a gasp from you.
“Maybe I’ll have to show you, then?” Shanks whispered with a soft chuckle, pressing kisses over the bite mark he left behind. The words escaped your grasp for a moment, caught in your throat, and an embarrassed sound came from you instead. “Oh, love,” he sighed softly, kissing your neck. Despite not trusting yourself enough to answer Shanks, you grasped onto his shirt, slowly undoing the last buttons, which earned you a hum of appreciation.  “Join me,” he muttered, tugging lightly on your shirt.
The clothes were removed one by one, discarded and forgotten on the floor while you moved towards the bed, landing on the mattress with Shanks on top of you, his mouth pressed to yours once more. Shanks nipped on your bottom lip until you whimpered before he ran his tongue over the bite and slipped it into your mouth. He kissed well, managing to make your cock twitch and leak just by making out with you, even more so when he kissed you deeper after you tugged on his hair.
“Fuck,” Shanks groaned, like revolted at himself or something else, and started nipping down your jaw, kissing and nipping on your neck and collarbones, anything to get from you the little whimpers that he loved so much. He seemed to know how to do that very well.
Despite how unstable your voice would be, you finally gathered some courage, cracking out Shanks’ name in a broken moan and arching your back into his touches.
“Do you—”
“There’s lube in the drawer,” you breathed, looking away to avoid the look he shot you while you reached for the bedside table and retrieved the bottle of lube. “Can I, please?” Your eyes met his again, and you forced yourself to hold eye contact despite your heartbeat hammering against your ears.
With a nod, Shanks sat back with your legs over his thighs, observing it as you poured the lube on yourself, groaning softly at the feeling of the cold liquid trailing between your legs.
“Fuck,” you breathed, putting the bottle aside.
Shanks could only reach out before your fingers pressed to your own entrance, and his breath hitched at the same time his eyes widened lightly. “Holy fuck, baby,” he breathed, placing a hand on your inner thigh. His thumb pressed to your ass lightly to spread it and give himself a better vision of your two fingers sinking inside yourself. He bit his lip, but the excitement was still clear through the way his cock twitched, with a drop of pre-cum dripping down the thick length.
Your eyes were focused on Shanks’ face, watching his reaction to how you fingered yourself carefully, and fuck, holding yourself back was hard. The arousal made you so sensitive, in a way you could just finger yourself until you came, but Shanks’ cock would be a better, bigger prize. He rubbed circles into your skin with his thumb, and you knew it was time to stop before you got close. Instead, you grabbed the lube again and poured it on Shanks.
A soft hiss came from Shanks when the cold liquid came in contact with his cock, but he gave you a real moan when your hands wrapped around his length, spreading the lube evenly while stroking him. He was so thick in your hands, heavy, making you squirm a little in anticipation. Shanks surely loved the effect he had on you, squeezing your thigh more, but your hands soon left him as well, only returning to his cock once you lay back on the bed, guiding it to your hole.
“Excited, aren’t we?” Shanks had that terrible smirk on his lips as he leaned over you again, kissing you before you could give him any answer. “I’ll make you feel so good, baby,” he whispered between kisses, and the most you could give him in response was a groan.
You arched your back with a gasp the moment Shanks’ cock started to push into you, stretching you nicely, which gave you a light burning feeling that only managed to heighten your arousal. “Mmph, fuck,” you practically whimpered, holding on to his shoulders tightly once he was almost fully inside. When he was, though, you could barely catch your breath for a moment, trying your best to adjust to feeling that full.
“Good, sweetheart?” Shanks’ breath fanned over your skin as his lips grazed your own, and you took a moment to nod, adjusting your arms around his neck. “Great,” he said before he could start moving, chasing a fast pace right away. His elbow was pressed to the mattress, right by your side, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, adjusting the angle of the thrusts lightly, though you doubted he even had to hit your prostate continuously to make you see stars.
It felt better than anything you’d felt in a while, sending an intense wave of pleasure down your spine, and you wondered if Shanks had put anything in your drink earlier—even if you hadn’t drunk anything for a while. He managed to fill you up so well, hitting all the right spots, and making you a mess so quickly.
“Too— Mmph, Sh—” You gasped, nails sinking into his back as your thighs quivered.
Shanks raised an eyebrow as he paused and pulled back a little to look at your face. “Yes, baby? Did I hurt you?”
You gave yourself a moment to breathe before shyly meeting Shanks’ gaze, swallowing. “A little slower, please?” You rubbed the back of Shanks’ neck, playing with his hair a little. “I… It’s too good. You didn’t hurt me.”
There was a pause before Shanks hummed with a nod and a poor attempt to suppress the smirk that tugged on his lips. “Of course, sweetheart.” He kissed you again, softly, holding the kiss as he started moving his hips once more. The thrusts were still intense, but they weren’t so fast anymore, allowing you to have some control over yourself.
Shanks swallowed your moans, keeping the kiss going, nonetheless. He was straining, trying his best not to fuck you as fast and hard as he wanted, but he needed you to feel good as well. There was nothing to lose by taking the slower pace, and it also meant enjoying you for longer. He craved the way you clenched around his cock, milking it with every thrust, a lot better than anything he could’ve imagined during lonely nights.
“You feel so good around me, baby,” Shanks muttered into your ear; his words and moans managed to intensify your arousal. He hissed as your nails sank into his back, his thrusts faltering. “Fuck…”
“Feels so good,” you breathed, arching your back and wrapping your legs tighter around Shanks’ waist. It felt like getting a relief you didn’t know you needed, and it felt like the best thing ever. “Mmph, more…” Your moans started sounding whiny, but you really couldn’t help it. It was one of the last things you wanted to care about right now, with Shanks’ cock filling you so nicely, making your head foggy with arousal.
Pride swelled in Shanks’ chest before he pressed his lips to your neck again, nipping and sucking the soft skin, leaving behind love bites as a token of his love—and lust—toward you. He couldn’t help but thrust faster again, paying attention to your reactions as he did so. He needed it so badly.
“Is this okay?”
“Yeah,” you said shakily, feeling your thighs quiver.
The strings of moans echoed in the room along with the obscene sound of skin against skin, and you found yourself lost in a nice haze, barely aware of the existence of anything beyond that bedroom. The reality Shanks pulled you into felt so much better, blissful, making you ache with need.
Your thighs pressed into Shanks’ hips to pull him closer, and the spots his hips hug into would probably hurt later, but that’d just be another sexy reminder.
Whenever you arched your back, Shanks’ cock would hit just the right angle that’d make you see stars, so you invested in it, squirming, doing your best to keep that angle until your balls tightened with the anticipation of the impending orgasm. “Sh—Shanks,” you mumbled, your nails sinking into his back and scratching it. “I’m— Mmph, ‘m close,” you breathed as your thighs quivered, becoming tighter around him, just like your walls tightened and squeezed his cock, craving it.
“Great, me too,” Shanks muttered as he paused before he started moving again, his thrusts faster, not minding how intense it was because your release was actually the goal right now. He loved your gasps and breathless whimpers, how you clung to him, scratching and squirming. His arm hurt a little from holding himself in that position for a while, but you were almost there, so he made a little effort.
A pleased sound that resembled a sob escaped your lips as you arched your back, thighs trembling as you came, cock twitching and spurting warm cum between the two of you messily. It was all it took for Shanks to follow suit, cumming inside you, allowing his seed to fill you while he kept thrusting sloppily to make sure to milk every drop of cum from you. The feeling of Shanks’ teeth tugging on your collarbones was what brought you back to reality after the orgasm, his stubble scratching your skin.
“Fuck,” you groaned before cupping Shanks’ face, bringing him for another kiss. “I think you gotta stay for longer.”
.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.
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obeymematches · 18 hours
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MC acting oblivious!
since you're accepting hcs now, how about an mc whos a big tease/bully (aka mammons worst nightmare lol)? im quick to realize when someone has a crush on me and when i like them back i turn into the biggest tease on earth until the other person confesses. im good at acting oblivious so its always "wait, they cant possibly know i like them, right??" poor, poor souls lmao. so im wondering how the brothers+undateables would handle an mc like that! keep up the great work! 💕
Hi, good to see you again !!! <3 
okay i love this so much lets go ! 
Lucifer: 
Okay so in his case it’s mentioned several times that he is in love with the MC so this ain’t just some crush he’s being teased about but that’s one of the reasons why he loves you so much.  
He is rather guarded emotianlly as his pride isn’t going to let him just fall for anyone. But once he does he is not going to deny it!  
Lucifer is someone who will ask you out on a date without a warning. The only thing you might notice beforehead is that he spends suspiciously lots of his time with you. (by a lot in his case I mean something in between 30 and 60 mins every second day. he’s a busy man) 
Him: My schedule is tight today but I would like to spend time with you, MC, would you care to join me at a confectionary?  MC: sounds like you’re very busy, are you sure about that? 🥺 Him,  slightly offended but still lovingly: Yes, MC. Let me express myself better... would you please have a date with me today? MC: oh....um-
Mammon:
● oh god, oh jesus, oh no
● We all know The Great Mammon has a hard time admitting his feelings out loud, with words, bluntly.
● So the way I see it, the situation is about to be Awkward As Hell.
● Mammon is clearly sweating, butterflies occupying his entire stomach, he fiddles with his nails.
● Him: So MC, I was thinking- I mean I'm thinking- wanna go skating with me tonight?
MC: Oh that's a very romantic idea- but I think friends don't just go skating, you know.
Him: Friends??! I don't wanna be just your friend MC-
You: Then? Then what?
Him: Goddamn I- I just want to be yours- Jesus ya are makin' it so difficult MC, it is not easy as is!!
Leviathan:
● ahh the frustrated face he makes through this conversation isn't just a facade. He really is stressing right now.
● Him: MC.... there is something I must tell you. And you only. Please listen and don't tell anyone!
MC: Don't worry Levi, I too hate people who gossip-
Him: No it's not like that. I have a desire in my heart that I must share with you as you are the most special person I ever met and I can only hope you feel the same way for me and- I feel so embarassed but I've been meaning to ask you this- would you be my partner? My player 2?
MC: well if you wanted me to play you could have just said so like you always do-
Levi: What?? Is that what you understood? No MC you don't get it! Ahhh I knew I shouldn't have asked you my chances with you are close to zero-
MC: Wait Levi I'm so sorry-
Satan:
● You could tell he was acting different these past couple of days. He was texting you more, he offered to spend more time with you- it was obvious he likes you.
● He knocked on your bedroom door and as you liked him just as much as he liked you, of course you let him in.
● I think you acting like you don't know what's going on turns him on? Like he know you ain't stupid. He knows you like him at least a little bit too, otherwise he wouldn't be here talking with you.
● Him: So MC, are you free now?
MC: Well, it depends on how you define "free" I think.
Him: Oh quit it please.
MC: I would if I knew what you were up to right now-
Him: Alright. You are going to make it more complicated, I see. In this case, meet me at 4PM at the common room. Please. I'd like to take you on a date if you're free.
MC: Inside the house? Weird if you ask me-
Him: ...... you are right actually. Let's meet at the park then. Don't be late.
Asmo:
● Again he would absolutely love you acting like you noticed nothing when he couldn't be more clear about what he wants.
● He knows this game though & he is quicker than you are.
● Him, cuddling you: So MC I have been thinking about us....what are we?
● MC: We are.... the best. Me, a human, and you, a demon.
Him: Nooooo, you know that's not what I meant!!!
MC: Well I don't know what you mean Asmo. Aren't we though?
Him: Aren't we what? A human and a demon?? Ahhhhg stop playing with me MC!
Beelzebub:
● Ohh babe is going to believe you actually don't know what' going on-
● I think he'd find it funny when he realizes you were just acting like such-
Him: MC. I like you.
MC: Okay, I like you too. That's why I'm your friend.
Him: Yes we are friends I know... but to me you are the first person I want to talk to if anything happens, good or bad... you are on my mind all the time, no matter what- I haven't felt like this in my entire life- you are the most special person to me, MC.
MC: Ohhh... I didn't realize-
Him: I only went out with Mammon yesterday because I thought... I was hoping you'd be there to, that you'd join... I just wanted to spend more time with you. But you weren't there. Let's go somewhere together today- I mean, if you want to-
Belphegor:
● MC you are about to annoy him to deatg to be fair.
● Depending on his mood he might join you though!!!
Him: So human- I mean MC. Let's hang out today.
MC: We already do.
Him: I meant as a date, stop playing stupid.
MC: I don't like being called stupid. Is this how you are asking me out on a date??
Him: See I knew you knew what I meant!
MC: Why would you ask me on a date though, aren't we just friends?
Him: .....
Him: We could change that- I want to be your one and only.
MC: Well if you are my one and only friend I might get lonely when you're too busy for me though-
Him: Stop it don't say another word. Are you coming today or not? MC? You listening?
MC: you just asked me to shut up-
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webslingingslasher · 5 hours
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i’m seated for some sneak peaks of things you have in the drafts hehe
here's a blurb for munch frat!peter:
'hand this card to the last person to eat pussy.'
tarrent has a gleam in his eye as he proudly pushes it into peter's chest. 'drink up, bro.'
you're not watching, the content of your cup is more interesting. but you're listening to see exactly how peter plays this one off because he hasn't even tried- let alone offered to go down on you.
peter hands the card back. 'nah, i don't do that.' he says it like it's a joke and his friends laugh with him, like he's too humble to accept the crown title of carpet muncher.
---
here's a blurb for hockey!peter fighting for his life over a jersey
'hey, can i have a kiss?' the audacity. you cross your arms again and look to the side, 'no.' peter frowns, you lean away when you feel his lips on your cheek.
'no? not even after i just won?'
'you didn't deserve it.' you grumble it from the side of your mouth, peter catches it and feels offended. 'don't get pouty and tell me i deserved to lose.'
you turn to him, your eyes screamed fire at him. 'don't humilate me and demand a kiss then.'
---
here's a blurb for cherry!peter who's doing the best he can to make cherry's sex dream come to life
'i've been so good, haven't i been so good for you?' peter can sense a little bit of a praise kink in you, it's fitting. 'you're always good for me. you're my good girl, aren't you?'
a whimper, it's so much better when it's real. 'i'm your good girl.' a harsh grind, you clutch peter's forearm while you throw your head back. 'yeah? that feels good?'
'call me your pretty baby.' peter doesn't know where the direction is coming from but he likes it. 'does my pretty baby feel good?' an audible moan, he's fucking perfect at this.
---
here's a blurb for bf!frat!peter with a girlfriend who should always come first
peter is totally saving you for last and you're about to go nuts on him. sure, there might be a line of people and sure, you might be the one in the least danger but you're owed some sort of urgency.
'hello?' you call it out, you sound impatient. 'spider-man?' you are impatient. you call for him again, he holds up a hand and you gasp. 'oh you little- spider-man, you better come help me right now or i swear to god i'll...' you have no real threat. 'just don't tempt me!'
peter doesn't come help you, he's still helping an older woman and you're about to throw yourself into a fire for some attention. 'excuse me? i'm looking for my boyfriend, have you seen him?'
---
here's a blurb from that blurb... you know... the one where peter has hooked up with trouble's friend?
if peter was a brat, he'd say that you're not supposed to be talking to him. instead, he extends his hand out and watches heavy footing beat up the staircase. the second his door slams, his best friend is asking what the fuck happened with his eyes.
'she's mad at me.' his door swings open, you shout down to him. 'i'm not mad! we're broken up!' another slam. ethan's expecting a lot more from peter than a shrug. 'no we're not.'
his door hits the wall, another scream, 'yes we are!' a third slam, this time, he's got two friends coming out of their rooms and glancing between his bedroom door and the lower level where peter had crossed arms.
'what's going-' peter flails his arms around, trying to stop the impending question and what he knows is all you need to give him a round two, but worse because now you're no longer in public.
a sheepish grin crosses over a brother's face when his door explodes open, peter thinks there might be a hole behind his door where the handle matches up perfectly.
---
here's a blurb where ethan walks in on sexy time :(
'liar! he saw me from behind!' you know he did, it was all on show. everything's ruined. peter's trying his best to be soothing. 'hey, even if he did, he won't say anything. it's ethan, you know ethan.'
you do. that's why it's so bad. the reminder makes you cry harder, peter connects the dots. 'oh jeez, trouble. here, come give me a hug.' it's a pathetic reach, you want nothing more than to be locked away in his hold, hidden and secret from the outside world.
'he-' you suck in air, curling in even closer to peter as if you weren't on his lap already. 'he saw me having sex.' you pull peter's arms tighter around you, it almost hurts it's so tight. it's what you need.
'i know, baby. i'm so sorry.' at least he's being honest.
'how much did he see?' peter doesn't know either, he was a little busy underneath you. he just knows the second he saw his door open, his instinct was to protect you.
'very little.' you feel kisses over your head, 'please stop crying.'
---
here's a blurb where nerdy!peter has no filter when he's drunk
'hi, honey.' you hold his arm tightly, 'don't lean over.' bending at the waist you reach for the keys, peter groans and shouts an exaggerated 'oh my god!'
you fly up, the metal tucked between your fingers. 'what?' you look around, peter's busy staring down your skirt while his teeth sink into his bottom lip. 'your ass is so nice.'
you suck in a deep breath and ignore the flush of warmth covering your chest. 'thank you, petey.' you ignore the slight shake in your hand when you shove the key in.
peter's door gets stuck a lot and you have to shove your shoulder into it a little. while you're doing your best to raid the door, a hand slides up the back of your thigh and gives you a tight squeeze. you jump and yelp, your hand reaching back to throw his off.
'peter!' he giggles and turns his head like you wouldn't be able to see him anymore. 'i just wanted to touch it a little.' peter's fingertips lightly drag up your thigh, you slap it away again. he giggles harder, the sound bubbles out of him.
'i'm trying to get us inside, leave my butt alone.' you have his promise, and you nudge the door a little, a sharp smack has you wipping around to face him. peter shoots his hands up, 'last one, i promise! that was the last one!'
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harlowslilsecret · 2 years
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i’m just saying… those grunts???
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isamoa · 5 months
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“ WHAT GETS THEM HARD! ”
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jjk men x f!reader ࿐ MDNI.
ᰔ、summary. jjk scenarios on how their dicks get hard ofc
ᰔ、tags. (ft. gojo, geto, toji, choso), nsfw, female anatomy, cunnilingus, exhibitionism, sexting, masturbation, etc.
ᰔ、a/n. these are just my silly depictions. if u dont agree idgaf lol
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SATORU GOJO has the dirtiest mind and the highest sex drive. his pants definitely start feeling a little tighter at the sight of you eating a popsicle or something. specifically in public. he would have no shame in it either—casually forming a smirk on his face and dropping a snarky innuendo about the way you’re eating. “can you suck me off like that when we get home?” he’d mumble from across the table, his eyes peeking out from the top of his glasses, a smirk plastered on his lips; wet from the constant licking of his tongue. your eyes widen, a small ‘pop’ sounding from your mouth when you took the frozen sweet out to gasp at the man in front of you. “gojo! are you serious?” you’d yell in a whisper, looking around to see if anyone had heard him. “you’re right,” he’d sigh, standing up from his chair to reveal the very prominent and very obvious bulge in his pants. “we should just do it now.”
SUGURU GETO on the other hand is a polite man. like satoru, he’s a real freak in the sheets—but not as shamelessly. the littlest things can get him hard for sure, but unintentionally seeing your undergarments would really get him going. like an accidental peek at your panties from under your skirt, or a shirt thats a little too see-through showing off the print on your bra. he wouldn’t say anything of course, not right away. you would just be minding your own business one minute and then he’s dragging you towards the bedroom the next. “sugu- what are you-?” you would ask in a confusing tone, craning your head to look at the said man who was now behind you—pushing your stomach up against the countertop; a single hand brought up to grope your breast while the other laid flat against your hip. “your bra is showing.” he’d let you know blankly; an attempt to distract you while his hand slid it’s way into your pants. you would look down in response to his comment, noticing that your bra was in-fact showing like he said. unfortunately for him, you also already noticed the hardon pressed against your back.
TOJI FUSHIGURO gets hard from eating pussy. simple as that. he will get embarrassingly sloppy—juices coating his face and dripping down his chin, loving every second of it while his cock slowly grows harder. emphasis on grows. and if you think for a second that he does it for your pleasure, think again. this man will eat you out purely for his enjoyment only. his eyes are closed and his hands are squeezing at your thighs—legs thrashing uncontrollably from the uncomfortable pressure in his pants that’s about to come undone. “toji- let me help you.” you’d beg with a whimper, dragging your hand from the top of his head down to his cheek when you noticed the constant shuffling of his legs and the crease in his eyebrow. he’d laugh darkly, the breathy snicker creating a hum between your core that made a whine escape from your lips. “im fine mama,” he’ll say cockily, pulling a hand away from your leg to undo his zipper. “ill cum soon, you don’t gotta do ‘nun.”
CHOSO is a needy guy. his face will turn red at a simple flirty text—but send him a slutty pic and he might just cream his pants. fully naked or dressed in lingerie, his favorite or not, he will definitely feel some pressure down below. he might ignore you for a while, uncertain on how he should reply; if he’s even able to. “fuck- couldn’t wait till i got home, could you?” he’d whine quietly, trying his best to keep his voice down from the bathroom of his office job; one hand holding the phone up to his ear while the other rushed to unbuckle his belt. “sorry cho,” you’d apologize from the other line, voice rather faint as you posed for another picture to send him. “when are you coming?” you ask doubtfully just as his phone vibrates with another notification from your contact. “now- im comin’ now baby.” he replies with a huff, phone almost slipping from his ear. “really!?” you try to clarify—much more excited than the first time. “no, i mean im cumming. right now.”
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thewriterg · 7 months
Text
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰
pairing(s); simon riley x fem!reader, reader x toxic family
summary; You tried to keep it together to keep him away from it to not get attached but it only take one situation for you to come crumbling down reaching out to simon for comfort —angstober day;14—
word count; 900+
warning(s); age gap, sweetheart is her/your own warning, thinking college student reader so like early twenties and simon is about mid to late forties, arguments, crying, angst, kisses, pet names, mention of violence, simon abt to risk it all, and language
playlist; nothings new by rio romeo
A/n:—GIFs; @astrolux111 & @silenthqll— GIF does not determine race
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Simon was up it didn’t take much to wake him and when he heard the footsteps approaching his flat front door he was up the handgun from his scratched wooden nightstand that he’d bought off some older man who he was sure had passed to the unknown by now
The rough knocks on his door frame were demanding and rushed as if the person behind the wood was on time crunch he approached the door the firearm clutched in his hand his finger taking no time to rest on the trigger his hand was on the nob before he swung the door open his eyebrows furrowing not expecting to see what was in his line of sight
Your eyes were red and puffy tear streaks stringing your face your hair out of place as well as your shifted clothes Simon swiftly setting down his defense on standing table next to his door grabbing your arm to bring you into the shelter of his home he checks over your body to find nothing alarming but the soaking wet clothes clinging to your body
“S-simon” Is all you can get out as your body racked with sobs you shoulders hunched and he wraps an arm around you littered with tattoos your face hidden in his chest covered by the cotton tshirt that was a little small on him your cold wet clothes transferring onto his as shushes you slowly moving you into his bedroom sitting you on his mattress slipping your drenched shirt over your head as you sniffle your head throbbing from the continuous tears and energy spent you didn’t realize you were dressed in dry attire until you were getting picked up and suddenly the weighed down fabric wasn’t overwhelming you anymore your legs wraps around the blondes torso lying your head on his shoulder you body still shivering as you felt yourself dip onto his worn mattress rubbing his hands down your goosebump covered arms
“Come on love what’s the matter with my sweet girl, hmm? Tell Si what’s the matter” Something triggers in you causing more streams of tears to fall down your face and you try to speak choking out incoherent words and sniffles simon rubs a hand over your hair pressing a kiss your forehead his brain screaming at him to to go punch the nearest punk out on the street because there has to be something, something major to keep you acting this way
“I don’t want you to leave me” You body wracks you chest feels like it’s gonna cave any minute you feel like your airway you’ll be cut off and your sound will be free from your body
“Sweetheart it’s gonna take more than a few tears to get rid of me, matter of fact you won’t be able to you understand?” You nod your head before your spewing everything weighing your chest down to the floor about you family and how they make you feel more down then you’d ever been without meaning to the situation I particular causing your weaker construction to tip over and collapse your siblings couldn’t keep their hands out of your things and this time it had did it you’d been saving for a new laptop for class it cost more than you liked to admit and your sister god you loved her but she was at the age where she couldn’t keep her hands off of thing your things to be exact and long story short your laptop was broken in your sisters hands you berated her scolded her it was the least you could do for the trouble she caused you
When your parents arrived home you expected them to finish the job rip your sister a new one she ran into your father arms rambling of how mean and what a monster you are and even after you told your parents about what she had done she’s barely get a slap on the wrist you were older you shouldn’t yell at the younger ones defending your honor and standing your ground got you yelled at a stinging mark on your cheek
“My h-head hurts” You whimpered after a moment of silence and it was true you didn’t know how long you’ve been crying for and your head felt like it was going to explode Simon sets you down on the mattress briefly your head still spinning and pounding in your ears he leaves and returns again two pain killers that look like a spec of nothing in his palm he sets and on your cheek gently prying your jaw open setting the drugs on your tongue before you swallow the he praises you for it and your realize how much of a all time low you are
“Come on sweetheart no more tears you know it’ll make it worse” This time you’re not sobbing from the pain your chest but rather the pain your head hiccups slipping from your lips falling apart in his grasp and he held you like he always will and as he always had
He’d glue all your broke pieces back together
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©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.
NEW; sweetheart and simon headcanons
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steddiewithachance · 1 year
Text
"You Should Date My Nephew"
"433-6296". Wayne mouthes to himself. He visualizes the little slip of lined paper that's taped to the wall above their phone at home. 433-6296. He could call. But he wont.
Wayne grunts as he lowers himself to sit on the curb outside the plant. He got off work --he pushes up the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch-- 36 minutes ago. It's 3:36 am and god dammit Eddie how many times did he remind the kid to set his alarm. How many times did Wayne remind Eddie that his truck was in the shop and that he'd need a ride home in the morning. And every single time he'd mention it, Eddie responded "I got it old man! I'll set an alarm" with an exasperated eye roll and would go back to whatever he was doing. Wayne has tried calling the trailer a dozen times already and damn that boy for being such a heavy sleeper.
433-6296. Wayne could probably solve his problem with a single call, but that would be completely inconsiderate and borderline inappropriate, so he wont. A gust of cold November wind hits Wayne unforgivingly in the face and makes his eyes water. He pulls a pack of camels from his chest pocket and with stiff, shaky hands, lights one. 433-6296. He could call or he could walk home. The walk wasn't easy in ideal weather when Wayne was fully rested. Right now it was freezing, Wayne didn't have his good jacket, and he just finished an eight hour shift. 433-6296. Fuck it.
Wayne stands up and hurries toward the phone before he can talk himself out of this. It's insane, and he knows the poor kid barely sleeps as it is. Knows from Eddie that he'll pick up the phone anytime Eddie has a nightmare and drive over to talk him out of the bad dream, keep him company, or fall asleep on the floor of Eddie's bedroom so his nephew doesn't have to go back to sleep alone in a haunted home. 433-6296 Wayne dials and waits with baited breath.
The phone rings a handful of times before a quiet voice greets him on the other side of the line.
"H'llo? Eds?"
"Uh hi Steve. It's Wayne?" Wayne says quietly into the phone. Steve seems to sober immediately.
"Mr. Munson? Is everything okay? Is Eddie okay?"
"Yeah no everythin's fine. I'm sure Eddie's safe and sound at home. Look, I'm real sorry to wake you, kid, and I'm sorry to even be askin' you in the first place. I know it's mighty unfair of me to call at this time but uh- My trucks in the shop and Eddie was supposed to pick me up from work forty minutes ago but I think he mighta slept through his alarm. And it's too far for an old man like me to walk. Was wondering if I might owe you a helluva favor if you could pick me up tonight, son." For a few moments there is silence. Wayne worries he has crossed a line, for a brief moment he fears he might have burnt the most important bridge in Eddie's life. He's immediately regretting waking Steve up for this.
But then he hears the distinct rustling and thump of someone putting on shoes.
"Of course Mr. Munson, I'm leaving now. I'll be there as soon as I can." And Wayne is once again floored by this kid's kindness.
"Steve, thank you. I owe you son. Whatever you need."
"It's no problem! I'll see you soon."
"See you." Wayne mutters in disbelief and hangs up the phone.
And to think... Wayne used to hate Steve. The thing about Steve Harrington is that his name is haunted, in a way. And the thing about Wayne Munson is that he's a stubborn son of a bitch who will hold grudges on Eddie's behalf longer than the kid himself will. There were countless days in high school when instead of shooting through the front door of the trailer after school with a devilish grin and music blasting from his headphones, Eddie would turn the knob slowly and he'd drag himself into the house, giving Wayne a small nod before disappearing into his room quietly. Wayne felt like crying or punching something when Eddie came home in low spirits. He knew how evil the kids at school could be, and he knew the names of all the bad ones. Wayne always gave Eddie 10 minutes of quiet before he'd knock on his door and gently ask if he wanted to talk. It was a routine they had. He'd ask and Eddie would say no. But then like clockwork, Eddie would open up about his day later in the evening usually while they ate dinner and before Wayne left for work. He'd complain about all the kids that made him feel bad: Hagan, Harrington, Perkins, Hargrove, Carver, and so many more.
So imagine Wayne's surprise on March 27, 1986 when he briefly left Eddie's hospital room to get coffee and returned to Steve Harrington, the bully son of Richard and Nicole, sitting next to his nephew's hospital bed. It had been a long week of worrying on Wayne's part, and an emotional 48 hours spent at Eddie's bedside, so Wayne had very little patience for whatever was happening in front of him. In retrospect, Steve Harrington was looking at Eddie... sweet and tenderly, even back then. But in the moment all he could think about was Eddie returning from school with hunched shoulders and his head hung low.
"The hell are you doing here?" Wayne asked using his gruffest and most intimidating voice, arms crossed, standing in the doorway. The way that Steve startled was like nothing like Wayne had ever seen. He jumped a foot into the air and folded into himself.
"Oh! Mr. Munson. I'm sorry I didn't know you were around. Just, uh, didn't want him to be alone in case he woke up." Steve had said rising from his seat. When Wayne didn't budge from the doorway or respond, Steve nervously fiddled with the zipper of his jacket.
"How do you know Eddie?" Wayne asked trying to keep his firm tone.
"From high school sir. But also through a mutual friend. Dustin Henderson? They play DND together. Dustin and I brought him in after we found him like this..." Steve lifted his head again gauging Wayne's still stern expression and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to interrupt anything I'll get out of your hair."
And Wayne wanted to be skeptical of Steve, wanted to accuse him of doing this to Eddie, but the truth is that Steve sounded painfully earnest. And there's no human explanation for the tiny bite marks all over Eddie's body. Wayne stepped out of the doorway and let Steve take a few steps down the hallway before calling out to him.
"Hey, Harrington?" Steve turned around quickly, looking back with a startled expression, maybe surprised that Wayne knew his name at all. "D'ja see what happened? I mean d'ya know anythin about what hurt him?" Wayne asked more softly. Steve looked around the crowded hallway, with nurses buzzing from door to door. Steve shook his head slightly, apologized, and continued down the hallway.
But Steve didn't stay out of his hair for long. The kid was exasperatingly persistent in being around for Eddie. And while Wayne kept a watchful eye on him, he was starting to get the idea that Steve Harrington was not who Wayne thought he was. He cooked for, cleaned after, and tended to Eddie, asking for nothing in return. Often refusing to stay for dinner when Wayne was home, even if he was the one who cooked it, because he didn't want to interrupt family time. If he brought food from out he always brought something for Wayne, and never took the money Wayne tried to push into his hands for it.
"Here, Mr. Munson. I wasn't sure what you wanted from the diner, but Eddie said you're not picky so I brought you a burger and fries." Steve had said that first time, holding out a bag in front of him.
"You brought me food?" Wayne asked perplexed.
"Well yeah, of course. I wouldn't have shown up with dinner for just me and Eddie." Steve set Wayne's bag on the counter when he made no move to take it.
By now Steve knew Wayne and Eddie's order at pretty much every food place in Hawkins and Wayne and Eddie were getting real creative at finding ways to slip money into Steve's wallet.
On top of that, almost every other day, Wayne gets home from work to find a maroon bmw parked outside his place while Steve helps Eddie through bad dreams. So what could Wayne be, besides grateful, for Steve Harrington's slightly confusing devotion to his kid?
He's snapped out of his thoughts when said maroon bmw pulls up in front of him. Steve is wearing a pair of wired glasses and his hair is all ruffled from sleep. Wayne opens the passenger door.
"You were waiting for forty minutes in the cold? Why didn't you call sooner?" Steve asked pushing up his glasses as Wayne closes the door quickly. And well... Wayne doesn't know how to respond to that.
"I- I shouldn'ta had to call you in the first place, Steve. I'm real sorry" Wayne says as Steve pulls the car out of park and starts driving back towards the trailer park. Wayne glances over at Steve waiting for the kid to say something. They sit in heavy silence until Steve breaks it by clearing his throat.
"Just... I know you're probably mad at Eddie but- but don't yell at him. He's barely sleeping so he really just needs the rest. It's not his fault." Steve ends on a whisper.
A tidal wave of different emotions rip through Wayne. Affection for Steve's caring nature, immense gratitude that Eddie has someone like Steve in his life, disbelief that Steve would say something like that after being woken at nearly 4 in the morning. Wayne was sitting and staring at the most selfless kid he'd ever met. Steve fucking Harrington.
"You should date my nephew."
Steves eyes widen and the car swerves.
"Uh- s-sorry- what?" Steve stammers.
"If I could choose someone for him, the best option out there, I'd choose you." Wayne says honestly, and he didn't even know he'd been thinking it until this moment. But it's so true. After so many heartbreaks over truly terrible men that Wayne could never see the appeal of, Eddie deserves someone like Steve. Steve face softens before checking to make sure Wayne was being sincere. Steve cracks a smile and chuckles to himself.
"What, you think I'm jokin'?" Wayne asks defensively.
"No sir! Not at all. It's just Eddie and I have been dating for months already. BUT- but- thank you for saying that! It means so much to me and truly Eddie's the best thing-"
"You- what?" Suddenly Wayne is embarrassed. Blushing. How'd he... how'd he miss that? And well, he did have a few moments where he thought the two of them were awfully close for a pair of young men, at least one of which who was openly queer, but they'd been through a lot together.
"Why did no one tell me?" Wayne asks turning his face away from Steve who is desperately fighting a huge grin and losing.
"We thought you knew. We sleep in the same bed every night."
"You do what now? Thought you were sleepin' on the floor" Wayne knows he sounds like the protective dad of a teenage girl and not the uncle to an adult man, but his world was just turned sideways. Steve laughs at that and adjusts his glasses before stopping at the red traffic light which almost immediately turns green because no one is out at this hour.
"Oh well. Good, I'm glad then." Wayne says after his mind has stopped spinning. "And call me Wayne already, you basically live at my house." He punches Steve lightly in the shoulder.
"Okay." Steve agrees quietly. He pulls into Forest Hills and stops the car in front of the Munson's place. "Mind if I just check to make sure he's okay before I leave? For peace of mind?" Wayne opens the door and steps out.
"Oh so now you're playing coy about sharing a bed? Just sleep here, kid" Wayne closes the door and heads towards the house. Steve jogs a little to catch up. When they open the door, the sound of an obnoxious alarm comes pouring out from the back of the house which concerns both of them. But when Steve hurries to Eddie's room he sees that the idiot had fallen asleep with music blasting in his headphones. Wayne stops the alarm as Steve gently tries to remove the headphones from his ears pausing the tape inside.
Eddie suddenly stirs and blinks up at Wayne and Steve looking down at him.
"'S going on?" He croaks, rubbing his eyes. Wayne and Steve share a look before Wayne chuckles and pats Steve on the back once before thanking him and wishing him a good night on the way out. After the door closes behind Wayne, Eddie looks back up at Steve. "What's going on baby? What happened?"
Steve slips into the bed and scoffs, fondly. He curls around Eddie and pulls him into his chest. Once they've settled, Steve pushes his fingers through Eddie's until they're all intertwined.
"Did you forget something, Bambi? Was there someone you had to pick up from work at 3 in the morning?" Steve whispers into his neck. Suddenly Eddie shoots up and dislodges Steve where he was leaning against him. Steve groans.
"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit"
"Eddie it's okay c'mere. He's home now, it's all good babe." But Eddie just stares at the wall and pulls a hand through his hair. "No one is mad, just come back here. Let's sleep." And Eddie hesitantly lies back down.
"Did Uncle Wayne have to call you? I'm so fucking sorry Stevie." Eddie asks, sounding embarrassed.
"We had a nice conversation on the way home so it all worked out. You're okay. Sleeeeep."
And right before they both fall asleep, Eddie whispers, "Thanks Stevie, love you."
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simonrileysfavteacup · 2 months
Text
The Scare
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader
Word count: 1.2K
Warnings: Angst (ooooo, my first time writing angst), comfort, break in, attempted kidnapping, simon in ghost mode, graves being a pussy, simon being a good bf
Summary: You thought it was Simon, he had come home early from his mission, but there were 2 pairs of footsteps walking around your home.
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Everyone knew Lieutenant Riley was cold. He was ruthless, cruel, heartless, and so much more. 
But there was one thing that made him soft. One person. 
You. 
Barely anyone knew that the Lieutenant had picked himself up a hot little thing and managed to keep her. The two of you had been together for 3 years now and he was so close to proposing. He was ready to spend his life with you. He was ready to make you his and give you his last name. 
But what happens when someone who shouldn’t know about you finds out about you?
***
Graves knew. Somehow he knew. He mentioned your name to Simon, “Ghost, that is not nice. How would your pretty little (Y/N) think of that?”
Simon shivered. 
And then he realised. 
Graves was coming for you.
***
You were curled up in bed, music playing in the background as you read one of your favourite romance books Simon had bought you. The lights were off, a single three-wick Bath and Body Works candle on your bedside table. It was peaceful. Cosy. 
You were on the 15th chapter before you head footsteps and your front door opening. 
Simon isn’t supposed to be home yet.
You check your phone. 
Simon would’ve messaged if he was coming home.
There was no message. And he wouldn’t surprise you like this. 
You sit up, turning off the music. The footsteps are doubled. There’s two people. 
Simon wouldn’t come home with someone else. This wasn’t Simon walking around your apartment. 
With trembling hands, you reach for Simon’s hidden knife, concealed under his side of the bed. You clutch in it a sweaty palm, silent praying that the person walking around your apartment is a friend, not a foe. The footsteps get closer. You take a deep breath.
The doorknob jiggles. Your anxiety skyrockets. There’s murmurs before a foot hits the door. 
1 kick…
2 kicks…
3 kicks before the door finally busts open, shattering the lock. 2 men, dressed in black military uniform, hold up their guns to aim for your head. You suck in a breath. 
“That her?” The first man asks. 
“Think so. She fits the description,” the other one responds.
You shiver. They barely acknowledge you as they speak. 
One of them steps closer to you, reaching for the knife in your hand. You strike, stabbing his wrist through the jacket he wears. He yells, “Bitch stabbed me!”
He pushes you, reaching down to grab his wrist, pulling out the knife. The other one walks over while you’re distracted, talking a hold of your arms and tying them behind your back. You yell before you hear the sound of duct tape ripping. Within seconds, there’s a piece over your mouth. You try to yell. No use.
They begin to speak to each other fast, so fast you can barely catch their words. 
Help me…
The one you stabbed wraps up his wrist with a cloth, before picking up your legs. The other picks up your torso. 
You thrash around in their arms, trying to get free as you kick the one you stabbed, He holds your feet together with one hand, barking out a quick, “Stop it!”
He has an American accent, you notice. They carry you out of your bedroom as you continue to thrash around. They almost make it to the front door. 
But the door is wide open. And in the door frame stands a tree of a man, face covered by a mask of a skull. 
Simon…
Your eyes fill with tears of joy. 
Simon’s eyes are as dark as the night as he stares at the scene. 
The men immediately drop you, making you hit your head on the floor, a cry of pain dropping from your lips. Your vision goes blurry as you hear Simon step closer, fists clenched. 
You roll over onto your side, trying to get your hands out of their bonds, trying to grab your head to ease the pain. You suck in a sharp breath. Your vision stays blurry, barely making out the black blobs fighting in front of you. 
From the blobs you see, the one with the mask is bigger. And he’s winning. 
You think… 
One of the men drop down next to you, a new red blob on the ground making it’s way into your vision. You count to fifteen before the other man drops down too. 
You count to eight before you feel a hand pull the duct tape off your mouth. You let out a loud sob of relief. Simon…
He unties your wrists, gently massaging them as you roll over again, grabbing your head. You close your eyes as you let out cries of pain. 
It hurts. Your wrists hurt. Your mouth hurts. 
But the pain in your head is indescribable. It shoots from the back to the front, meeting at the centre of your forehead. It shoots back. And then back to the front again. And back again. And front again. And over and over. 
You can barely hear your cries anymore over the feeling of pain. 
A pair of arms pick you up bridal style, as if you weigh nothing. The black blob holding you takes you to the bedroom, setting you down on the bed. The blob walks away again. 
You count to thirty before it-he-returns, holding an ice pack, a glass of water, and a few advil pills. He sits on the edge of the bed, setting down the items. 
He takes off his mask, vest, gear, and everything else until nothing remains but a shirt and his tactical pants. Simon tips up your chin, placing one of the pills on your tongue, pushing it back with some water. “Swallow.”
You do as he says. 
A deep exhale leaves your body. 
He presses the ice pack to your head. “How bad is i’? Do I need to call a’ ambulance?” 
“N-no…” you blink back tears.
“You sure, lovie? ‘t was a bad fall,” he sighs, smiling sadly at you. “‘m so sorry ‘is happened to ya. Ya are the most important thin’ to me and Graves, bitch that ‘e is, took advantage of tha’. Soap and Gaz ‘re in the kitchen, gettin’ rid of the garbage. Tol’ them not to come in ‘ere. Ya need rest, okay? Bu’ don’ fall ‘sleep, ya migh’ have a concussion.” 
You nod to the best of your ability. He takes a hold of your hand, kissing your wrist. “‘M so so so sorry. Ya didn’ deserve ‘hat, okay? Ya so perfec’ and special to me…”
He looks down at the bloody knife on the ground.
“Ya try to protec’ yourself?” You nod in response to his words. “Good girl. Ya atleas’ did some damage…slowed them down enough jus’ in time for me to get ‘ere.” 
“Ho-how did you know I w-was in…” you don’t bother to finish your sentence. 
“Graves sai’ ya name to me. I took a guess ‘e was gone go for ya. Rushed here with the other three. They gone go on the mission without me. Need to stay ‘ere, make sure ya okay.” 
He presses a kiss to your forehead. You smile, softly. 
“Thank you…Si…” you nod. “For everything.”
“Always gone be there to save ya,” He nods. “When ya get bette’, I gone teach ya how to properly use that knife…and a few more things, just in case.”
“Sounds good, Si,” you hold back a giggle. 
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ellemj · 2 months
Text
Off-Limits: Ch. 1
Bucky Barnes x Reader: Mafia AU
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Summary: Bucky Barnes wants the one thing he can't have, and he'll go to great lengths to get what he wants. The tension between the two of you makes it impossible for him to think rationally.
Warnings: profanity, possessive!Bucky, mentions of firearms, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 2.2k
A/N: I've been thinking about writing something like this for a few weeks but I'm typically not an AU kinda girl so stick with me. Bucky is intentionally out of character in this but hopefully a few of you will like him this way. Also, THANK YOU ILY for the little bullets and foliage art for my timeskips @littlemiss-yeehaw. She is an angel, an inspiration, I love her.
            Off-limits. Nothing has ever pissed James Bucky Barnes off more than the phrase off-limits. The fact that it’s you who’s been labeled off-limits only adds to the fiery rage that’s steadily growing inside of him.
            Bucky leans back in his desk chair, running his flesh hand through his hair while he goes over his options in his mind. He could just take you. He could give a few orders and have you in front of him by nightfall, though he isn’t quite sure how he feels about starting a war simply because he’s thinking with his cock rather than his head. He could have a sit-down meeting with the man he detests most in this world, the man who currently has total control over your future. He could make an offer, bargain for the right to have you to himself. No, that sounds too polite.
            The sound of a fist rapping against the heavy wooden door of his office breaks Bucky out of his thoughts.
            “You told me to come back at eight, so here I am. What did you decide?” Sam asks, shutting the door behind him after entering. He’s itching to do something, anything. His life has been hell ever since Bucky first laid eyes on you. It’s as if the entire fucking operation dropped to the bottom of the totem pole while you rose to the top. It would be great if he could bash a few heads in, fire a few rounds, and deliver you to his boss tonight so he could fuck away whatever this newfound obsession is and get back to being the cunning, ruthless mob boss he’s meant to be.
            “We’re paying my least favorite lowlife a visit.”
            Just like that, James Bucky Barnes and his entourage of over-eager gunmen are on their way to your house, to see your father.
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            As you tiptoe down the mahogany stairs of your childhood home, your bare feet just barely gracing each step, you forget for a moment that you’re not a little girl anymore. You can hear the distant sound of low voices and tense discussion coming from your father’s home office near the bottom of the staircase. When you were younger, those sounds would’ve had the hair on the back of your neck standing up and you would’ve been hightailing it right back to your bedroom. You’re not so timid anymore. The man already holds your entire life in the palm of his hand, molding and shaping it however he sees fit. What’s the point in trying to abide by his rules when it’ll never get you anything other than exactly what he wants for you? So, you continue your daring trip to the kitchen, with the hem of your oversized t-shirt skimming along the skin beneath the curve of your ass and your heart set on a late-night snack.
            Bucky sits across from your father’s desk, his jaw aching due to the number of times he’s caught himself clenching his teeth together during the past hour of deliberations. As he lifts his hand to massage the sore muscle along the side of his face, he hears the sound of a wooden floorboard creaking somewhere outside of the room that he currently sits in. He shifts his gaze around the room, noting the way his own men, your father, and your father’s men all seem oblivious to the miniscule noise that came from somewhere in the house.
            “It doesn’t matter how long we sit here and go through this. My daughter is not getting married, she isn’t on the table.” Your father’s tone, though resolved and sure, doesn’t match the look in his eye. It’s a look that lets Bucky know you’re not actually off the table, he just hasn’t made the right offer yet. The words echo in his head for a moment: on the table.
Fuck. If he sits here for another second, picturing you physically on top of a damn table, he might make an unreasonable offer just to turn that fantasy into a reality. It’s what prompts Bucky to rise to his feet suddenly, reaching into the pocket of his black suit pants to retrieve his phone and act as if he’s going to make a call, maybe a call to check on things within his business to see what else he can offer the piece of shit who sits in front of him. In reality, he’s making up an excuse to get the hell out of that stuffy office and clear his mind just enough to close the deal.
“Let me make a call.” Bucky says evenly, shooting your father a steely look. Your father leans back in his desk chair, relaxing for the first time since his rival showed up on your doorstep an hour ago. When Sam and Torres make moves to follow Bucky out of the office, Bucky holds up a hand, signaling for them to stop. “Stay, I won’t be long.”
Leaving his suit jacket draped over the back of the armchair he had been sitting in, Bucky steps out of the office and guides the door to shut as quietly as possible. It’s fucked up, what he’s doing here. He knows that good and well. Offering large sums of money, offering obscene amounts of quality product, offering a damn near eternal truce in the streets…all to have a woman he barely knows. As his eyes adjust to the darkness of his enemy’s home, he casts a glance up the staircase by the office door, wondering if you’re awake up there. Are you sitting in your posh bedroom without a single worry plaguing your pretty little mind? Are you sleeping soundly as he barters with your father for the right to have you all to himself? Or are you thinking about him too, about the handful of times you’ve run into each other over the past two months?
Shaking his head to clear his mind of all thoughts of you, Bucky takes a few steps to his left and turns the corner at the bottom of the stairs, entering the kitchen soundlessly. That’s where he finds you, hidden behind the open refrigerator door as you rummage around for a snack. He sees your bare legs first, peeking out beneath the half-door. He clenches his teeth and tightens his grip on the phone in his right hand simultaneously. It fucking hurts just to look at you.
“Your father lets you walk around like that with guests in the house?” He seethes. Startled, you shove the refrigerator door shut just before dropping the container of blueberries in your hand. As the plastic container goes crashing to the kitchen floor, blueberries scatter around your feet. James. When your eyes land on him, you can see the look of disdain all over his face. He despises you, you’re sure of it. Never one to take shit from a man, you narrow your eyes at him before crouching down and positioning yourself on your knees. Bucky watches intently as you pick up the blueberries one by one, placing them back into the plastic container.
“I don’t think my father considers you a guest.” You whisper the insult just loud enough for him to hear it, but not loud enough for your voice to carry over to your father’s office. Bucky’s squeezing his phone so tightly in his hand that he’s already thinking about having to send someone out to pick up a new one for him tomorrow, because surely, he’s shattering the screen of it. It isn’t your cute little attempt at a comeback that’s irking him. It’s the fact that you’re still on your knees, with your t-shirt riding up your thighs and your eyes lifting to meet his gaze as if you have no idea what effect you’re having on him. He’s sure you aren’t that naïve, which means you’re doing this shit on purpose.
“Get up.” He says through his teeth. You narrow your eyes at him before cocking your head to the side and picking up another fallen berry. It’s a test. He wants to see if you’ll listen to him. The way Bucky sees it, if you listen to his command and stand up, he’ll feel a bit better about going to all of this trouble to have you. It would tell him that although you’re defiant and like to talk back, you still know how to do what you’re told. But if you don’t listen? He can think of a few enjoyable ways to break you of that bad habit.
“What would my father do if he knew you were in here telling me what to do?” The question leaves your lips with the intention of being threatening, but Bucky’s hard stare and cold expression melds into a look of mild amusement. You pick up one of the last few remaining blueberries and drop it into the plastic container, keeping your gaze steady on the cold-blooded man a few feet in front of you. You watch with masked curiosity as he tucks his phone into the pocket of his suit pants and begins rolling up the sleeves of his white button-up shirt. He notices the way your eyes fixate on his black and gold arm, the way you almost seem fascinated by it. When he uses his metal hand to roll up the sleeve on his right arm, your focus shifts to the tattoos covering the majority of his flesh forearm. It isn’t your eyes that tell Bucky you like what you see. It’s the way you subtly clench your thighs together as you drop another berry into the container. You don’t shy away, you don’t move even an inch as he begins walking toward you. Even when he comes to a stop in front of you, close enough that the toes of his dress shoes are nearly touching your knees, you stay where you are. You look up at him through your lashes without tilting your head upward, refusing to move any more than just your eyes for a man that you know would take a mile if you gave him an inch.
“What would your father do if he knew you were on your knees in front of me?” He lifts his flesh hand toward your face, expecting you to flinch away or refuse his touch, but you don’t even blink as he lets his fingertips trace the curve of your jaw. He drags his fingers downward, until he’s in the right spot to curl them beneath your chin and force you to tilt your head up for him. Again, you don’t resist him. “Get out of here before someone else sees you like this.”
It isn’t at all what Bucky wanted to say to you, not even close. But it was what needed to be said. If anyone else had walked out of your father’s office and stolen the privilege of seeing you looking so pretty on your knees like that, he would’ve shot them dead right there in the kitchen. Whether it was one of your father’s men or his own, he wouldn’t have given a shit. So, Bucky lets his hand fall away from your chin, but he doesn’t step away. You reach down for the container of blueberries and grasp it in your right hand as you move to stand, keeping your eyes locked on Bucky’s the entire time. You want to shove him, to tell him he has no right to tell you what to do, especially not in your father’s home. At the same time, you wouldn’t be opposed to tracing the tattoos on his flesh forearm with your lips. What is it about this man that makes your rational mind war with the rest of your body?
            When you step around Bucky a second later, setting the container of blueberries on the island in the center of the kitchen before heading toward the stairs, he has to fight the urge to reach out and grab you. Not now, not yet. You’re not his yet. When you round the corner of the kitchen and begin tiptoeing up to your room, Bucky makes his way to the bottom of the stairs and watches you silently as you take each step. You don’t look back as you make it to the landing and turn right, disappearing behind a wall. When he hears the faint sound of your bedroom door closing, he reaches into the back pocket of his suit pants and retrieves a small silver cylinder. It sits heavy in his hand as he pulls his gun from the back waistband of his pants. As Bucky screws the silencer onto the barrel of his gun, a distant voice in the back of his mind is screaming at him to be rational about this. Don’t do it. Don’t go to such insane lengths for a woman you don’t even know. Don’t spill blood on these nice mahogany floors.
            When he enters the office a few seconds later, he fires two shots. The first into the shoulder of your father’s righthand man, and the second into the thigh of the other hired gun. His face is emotionless as he steps over their bloody, writhing bodies and presses the cool metal of the silencer against your father’s temple. Bucky only has to speak one sentence to let the man know that he isn’t to be fucked with.
            “We make a deal tonight, or I make your daughter an orphan.”
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oppopotamus · 1 month
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i have a toji brainrot rn.
dom!male!reader (younger than toji but still an adult) wanting to fck toji (dadbod toji yum) and toji doesn't believe that reader will be able to pleasure him.
toji gets wrecked (maybe some overstimulation and squirting as well teehee) and he gets smitten and addicted. 🤭
My next door neighbour is a hot dilf??
toji fushiguro x dom top male reader
srry this took so long I took a HUGEE break from writing
listened to Katy Perry while I wrote this which may or may not have affected my writing
Warning: NSFW, dilf toji, top reader, thigh spanking, toji passes out twice, toji cries, reader gets mean i guess??
Toji, your hot dilf neighbour, the guy who lives in the apartment next to yours, he's only across the hall.
You need this man, even if it's the last fucking thing you do.
You will not give up, you will persevere and fuck the living shit out of this total dilf.
You REFUSE to give up.
So that's why you were in front of his door, looking directly up at this dilf.
"Uh, hey!" You tried to sound confident but the sweat on your palms and your nervous smile gave it away that you were, in fact, not confident.
"Ya need sum'?" Toji's deep, rough voice sent shivers down your spine. His voice was so hot, you needed to hear him moan in that voice.
"Oh, uh, yeah..." 'Quick! Think of something!' You said in your mind.
"Uh, uh- Uhm... sugar!" 'Sugar? Fucking sugar? What kind of fucking response is sugar?!'
"Sugar." Toji repeated your word.
'Shit! He probably thinks I'm crazy!'
"You need to borrow some... sugar?" Toji raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down at you.
"Uhm... yeah." You say, wiping the sweat on your palms onto your pants as you stand there very awkwardly in the front door.
"I think I have some left... come in." Toji says as he walks into his apartment, leaving the door open for you to follow.
You nod and laugh awkwardly, following in after him and into the kitchen.
You're literally shaking from nerves, you pinch yourself to steady yourself but instead you end up letting out an, "ow!"
Toji quickly turns around with a raised eyebrow, "you okay, kid?"
You shake yourself off and nod quickly, "yup! Just, uh, stubbed my toe!"
Toji raises an eyebrow at that, he doesn't know how you stubbed your toe considering you were standing in the middle of the kitchen, not next to anything.
He just turns around and grabs a mug to collect some sugar.
"And I'm not a kid, by the way... I'm in college, I'm an adult."
"Coulda' fooled me." Toji scoffs and grabs the bag of sugar before pouring some into a mug.
"I don't look like a kid! I'm, like, average height for someone my age! A kid isn't this tall!"
Toji just looks you up and down with a smirk and hands you the mug filled with sugar.
Your cheeks turn pink when Toji looks you up and down with that sexy smirk.
"Okay, so you may not be a kid, but you're definitely a virgin. You stutter and blush every time I look at ya."
You immediately stutter again, "I most certainly am not a virgin!"
"Please, you wouldn't even know how to please a guy like me." Toji scoffs and rolls his eyes.
"First of all, I'm not a virgin, second of all, I totally would know how to!"
"Really?" Toji takes a few steps towards you, his arms crossed over his chest, "Prove it then."
Prove it?! You say in your head.
"P-Prove it?" Your brain short-circuits at that, is this seriously happening?
"You heard me."
"Oh."
Not even a second later he's grabbing your hand and leading you to his bedroom, causing you to drop the mug of sugar onto the floor, but neither of you care about that right now.
"Prove it quickly, my son's gonna be home soon." Toji sits down on the edge of the bed, looking at you expectingly.
He has a son?! He really is a dilf!!
"A-Ah, alright then..."
You take a few hesitant steps towards Toji on the bed, you've never slept with a guy this hot before, you're usually so confident in bed but this guy makes you so nervous!
"U-Uhm, I'm gonna start now..." You say shakily as you reach a hand out and drag your index finger down from Toji's chin to collarbone, brushing over his Adam's apple which surprisingly makes him shiver.
"You're so hot." You desire starts to take control, clogging your mind and blocking out all the anxiety you previously felt.
"Thanks, kid." Toji says before letting out a quiet yelp as he's pushed down onto the bed, "That was quick-"
"Stop calling me 'kid'. It's annoying."
You glare at him before gently running your hands down Toji's torso, down to his hips, giving them a squeeze.
"M' not a kid... I know what I'm doing."
"I'll believe it when I see it." Toji scoffs.
"You'll believe it soon." You say as you hook your fingers under the waistband of his grey sweatpants and pull them down along with his boxers to just below his ass.
"You're already hard, really?" You tease with a smirk before reaching a hand out to give a single pump to his cock, making Toji grunt and grit his teeth when you pull your hand back.
You crouch down to drag his pants and boxers down to his ankles before pulling them off and spreading his legs apart so you can see his hole.
"You're so goddamn hot." You practically drool as you sit on your knees, your hands placed firmly on the insides of his thighs to spread his legs apart as you bring your head close to lick his hole.
When you see Toji's pleased reaction you keep going, licking and fingering him open until you deem him ready enough to take your cock.
You stand up again and unzip your jeans, pulling your pants and boxers down just enough to let your cock spring free.
"Jesus, you've actually got a big dick." Now it's Toji's turn to feel flustered when he sees your cock in all it's glory.
"You'll be even more impressed once it's actually inside you."
You smirk and grip the underside of Toji's left thigh, you push it back and use your other hand to grab your dick, slapping it against Toji's hole a few times, making the man squirm.
"You gonna put it in or wha' Ah!" Toji's eyes widen and he groans as you press the tip in.
"For an old guy you're hella tight..." You grunt and slowly push the rest of your length in. Once you're all the way in you give it a minute for Toji to adjust before you start slowly moving.
You thrust in and out slowly. brushing against his prostate each time you thrust back in.
Toji lets out a long string of moans and grunts as you move back and forth, in and out. "J-Jesus... y-you actually know what y-you're doing, h-huh?" Toji can't help but smile in ecstasy as you speed up your thrusts, "Hhholy shit-!"
Toji groans and grips the bed sheets tightly, his knuckles turning white.
"Haah, ffuck!" You moan and grab onto his hips tightly as you speed up, getting faster with each thrust.
"Oh, fuck!" Toji squeezes his eyes shut, a few tears falling down the side of his face from pure pleasure.
Toji can't believe how fast it happens, but he cums almost instantly, he blacks out for a moment until he comes back to his senses when he feels a hard smack on his thigh.
He yelps and opens his eyes, immediately moaning again once he sees you're still fucking him.
"Y-You're still g-going?"
You spank his thigh again, "I haven't even cum yet."
You groan and throw your head back, you're still gripping his hips tightly, he's sure to be bruised by now.
Toji feels as though this has gone on forever, when it's only been fifteen minutes since you started, but to him it's felt like an eternity with how many times he's came.
Toji cums again and again, he's crying at this point but he doesn't dare ask you to stop.
It's not for another twenty minutes later till you cum, Toji sees stars when it finally happens, he cums so hard he blacks out, falling limp on the bed.
You come back to your senses and immediately freak out, "Toji?!"
You look down at him worriedly, when you see that he's breathing you calm down, you have no idea what to do so you do what any normal person would do.
You pull your pants back up and walk out of the room, quietly shutting it behind you.
You walk to the front door and open it only to see a teenage boy who's about to open the door.
You immediately stop in your tracks and have no idea what to say, you just quietly step outside and past the kid, the kid eyeing you warily.
"Uhm... you Toji's kid?" You ask awkwardly.
"Yeah... I'm Megumi..." The kid, or Megumi, says, still glaring at you.
"Uhm, maybe don't go into your dad's room for a while..." Is all you say before you run away, back into your apartment.
"What a weirdo..." Megumi says out loud to himself before walking inside.
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 2 months
Note
Katherine’s horny thought has been sent to you: 💌
Bucky Barnes is a feral man when it comes to his girl and seeing her being friendly with Steve…he cannot contain himself anymore. You gotta share something angsty and smutty babe. For all of us. 🤍
Here’s a promt:
“Are you trying to make me jealous doll? Cause it’s fucking working.”
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You’re Mine » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
Summary: Bucky makes sure his best girl knows that she’s his and only his when he sees her getting a little to friendly with Steve.
Warnings: Angst, Smut (18+), language, mentions of alcohol, jealousy, kissing, hickeys, fingering, unprotected sex, daddy kink, metal arm kink, praise kink, praise kink, choking, degrading, name calling (slut), use of pet names
A/N: Thank you for requesting @katherineswritingsblog 🩷
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
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Bucky watched from across the room as your hand rubbed Steve’s bicep, giving it a squeeze. His right hand was clutching the glass so tight that it could shatter any second. Bucky’s jaw clenched when you kissed Steve on his cheek. That was the last straw for him. Bucky downed the rest of his whiskey and slammed the glass on the table, not caring if he broke it or not.
“Hey doll, we better call it a night. We have that thing to do tomorrow.” Bucky says, grabbing your upper arm.
“What thing?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.
“You know what I’m talking about.” He says, tightening his grip on your arm, making you wince slightly.
“Oh yea!” You went along with it. “Goodnight, Stevie.” You say, kissing Steve’s cheek again.
Bucky practically drug you out of the room to the elevator and to yours and his shared bedroom. He closed and locked the door the second you two got in the bedroom. He then pinned you against the wall.
“Are you trying to make me jealous, doll? Cause it’s fucking working.” He practically growls.
“Now you know how I feel, James.” You say with sass in your tone.
Bucky chuckles and shook his head.
“So this is what that little stunt was about, huh?” He starts. “You decided to flirt with Steve cause I was talking to that girl at the coffee shop yesterday.” He says.
“More like flirting.” You say with an attitude.
Bucky grasped your jaw, making you look straight at him. His blue eyes were filled with jealousy, anger, and lust.
“How many god damn times do I have to tell you? I told her that I have a girlfriend and wanted nothing to do with her.” He says, almost gritting his teeth.
“That’s not what I saw!” You say.
“What did you think you seen, babydoll?” He asks.
“You were flirting with her! That’s what I seen and heard!” You say.
“And you think that it makes it right to flirt with my best friend?” He says.
“I wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine.” You say.
Bucky scoffs and shakes his head.
“Let me tell you something, babydoll…” His face got closer to yours, his lips inches from yours. “You’re fucking mine. Not Steve’s. Mine.” Bucky growls.
The next thing you know, you hear the sound of fabric tearing. Bucky just ripped off your dress. You didn’t even have time to react to it cause he yanked your panties down your legs and picked you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. Bucky almost immediately latched his lips on your neck, his teeth biting down hard enough to mark you up. A moan left your lips when his metal fingers rubbed your clit. His fingers found their way to your wet entrance, circling it teasingly before unexpectedly sliding two metal fingers inside of you. His fingers fucked you fast while his metal thumb rubbed your clit. You threw your head back against the wall, moans of his name leaving your lips.
“Oh daddy!” You moaned.
His fingers found your sweet spot almost immediately. Your pussy clenched around his fingers every time his fingers hit it.
“You’re such a fucking slut for me.” Bucky almost whispers. “I bet I can get you to cum in seconds just with my metal fingers.” He says.
You couldn’t form any coherent words. Moans and whimpers left your lips the more he degraded you. Honestly, you fucking love it when he degrades you. Bucky knows it turns you on. That’s why he does it.
His fingers were hitting all of the right spots, massaging your wet and warm walls and hitting your sweet spot causing your cunt to squeeze around his fingers. Your orgasm was building up quickly.
“I bet you’re so close, aren’t you, doll?” Bucky taunts. “You want to cum, don’t you?” He says.
“Yes please, daddy!” You whimpered.
“That’s too bad.” He abruptly took his fingers out of your pussy and leaving you frustrated. “You’re not gonna cum for a while.” He says, making you whine in frustration.
Bucky walked you over to the bed, dropping you on it. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as Bucky stripped himself out of his clothes. You looked down at his hard cock and licked your lips.
“My eyes are up here, doll face.” Bucky says, snapping his fingers.
“Shut up and fuck me.” You sassed.
Bucky spread your legs and got in between them. A loud moan left your lips when Bucky thrusted his cock inside of you in one thrust. You decided to test him more.
“Is that all you got? I’m sure Steve can give me more.” You say tauntingly.
A growl left Bucky’s lips. His metal hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing a little bit. He put his hand on the headboard above your head and began pounding into you. Your nails left red scratch marks on his back. Loud moans left your lips.
“Say that again. I fucking dare you.” Bucky growls. “Steve doesn’t know your body like I do. He wouldn’t know how to touch you like I do.” He says.
Pleasure took over your body. Bucky’s cock was hitting your sweet spot repeatedly. His fingers on his right hand found their way to your clit and began rubbing to the point where you were sensitive. Your pussy squeezed around his cock.
“Daddy, please!” You whined. “Please let me cum!” You begged. “I’ll be a good girl!” You whined again.
“I don’t think so, babydoll. You’re not gonna cum until I do.” He says.
“But daddy!” You whined.
“Quit your fucking whining.” He says, applying light pressure on your throat.
You tried your best to not cum, but it was so hard. His cock kept hitting your sweet spot, making you want to cum. Bucky pulled you into a rough kiss, his tongue slid past your parted lips and explored every inch of your mouth.
“You want to cum so badly?” Bucky asks. “Prove to me that you deserve to cum.” He says.
“I won’t ever flirt with Steve again. I promise to be a good girl and listen to what daddy says.” You say, followed by a whimper.
“You better be a good girl and do what I say.” He starts. “Cum for daddy, doll.” He whispers.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and a loud moan of his name left your lips as you came hard, soaking the sheets beneath you. Bucky’s thrusts became sloppy and he came inside of you. He thrusted a few more times before pulling out and laid down next to you. Both of you were sweaty and panting.
“Flirt with Steve again and I won’t hesitate to tie you to the bed and edge you.” Bucky says.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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lxnarphase · 3 months
Note
satoru who uses possessives in front of things like “my sweet girl” “my cute girlfriend” sighs in adoration….. satoru. < 3 always has to remind you that you’re his.
- 🪻
oh absolutely he has to put it in front of anything he calls you, even if it's just your name. 'my, my, my,' it's one of his favorite words when he's referring to you. he's so so possessive, the poor man goes insane if he can't think about you.
just imagine it, satoru being separated from you for longer than three days just comes back home and he doesn't have his sunglasses or blindfold on, and his eyes are wide and those pretty blue irises are charged to the point wher you shiver the moment his eyes land on you. "there you areee," he beams with a nearly insane smile, unblinking as he stalks toward you. if you didn't know this was your man, you would've been scared shitless. no, no, this was your satoru whenever he missed you too long.
"my pretty girl, my little angel, my babyyyy," he coos to you as he backs you further into the house until you bump against the wall and he towers over you. "missed you. missed you s'much. my princess...but you waited for me, right? waited for your 'toru to come home? hm?"
after you give him that nod and small 'yes', he's picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom, his hands squeezing your ass as he holds you. it's almost scary how it surprises you how hard he is already even though this always happens, but fuck, if it doesn't do something to a girls ego when a man like satoru gojo gets this turned on just thinking about you being his.
"good girl," he purrs into you ear, kicking the bedroom door shut behind him. he lays you gently on the edge of the bed and kneels between your legs, pulling down your longuing shorts. you know you hear the quiet sound of a rip but you can't think too much about it, not when satoru is staring you down like this..."you're always so good for me, aren't you," he asks as he puts your legs over his shoulders, kissing up your inner thighs. "mm, it's cause your all mine? mine? mhmm, you're mine."
i just. i love possessive satoru.....
1K notes · View notes
Text
Honey Girl. Chapter Two.
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Chapter One. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.
Pairing - Dad's Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky try to navigate what it means to be soulmates - and how difficult it is to keep your hands off each other.
Warnings - smut. cursing.
Word Count - 4k
Author's Note - part two!! thank you SO much for all of the love on part one - it has made me immensely happy. you're all the sweetest and i'm so grateful. i'm going on vacation in a few days, so i'm taking a hiatus for a few weeks as i won't have cell service. so, consider this my parting gift to you <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3 please, send me your thoughts, predictions, desires!! I will get excited with you!!
Masterlist. Inbox.
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Sunlight streams through the billowing white curtains, rousing you slowly. The gentle breeze cools the room, salt sticking to the air. Warmth is seeping into the glass of the windows, encouraging you to kick your sheets to the foot of your bed, limbs stretching and rolling.
You wake, and for a moment, you feel perfectly at peace. You feel light, tranquil, relaxed. You flex your neck from side to side, yawning as you do it. You notice that the sun is already up, beaming into your bedroom. It's going to be a very warm day, you think. I better pack sunblock.
You glance to where your bag is thrown haphazardly on the floor, contents spilling everywhere. It's unlike you, to not put something away properly. You take pride in being a tidy person. You must have been exhausted when you got home last night.
That's when it hits you.
Bucky.
The events of yesterday coming crashing down around you like a tidal wave. Hearts racing, hands interlacing, lips melding. Bodies tangling, breaths matching, knees buckling. Two souls, tied together forever.
Your Tethering.
To Bucky. Your Dad's best friend Bucky.
His absence is suddenly all you can think about. He's not here, and you feel like half of your heart is missing. You ache. There's a discomfort that you know can only be cured by the presence of your soulmate.
You're deep in thought when your phone rings, startling you. It's Bucky.
"Mornin' sugar," he drawls. The low tone of his voice is like molten honey, gorgeous and golden.
"Good morning, Buck."
You hear him exhale at the sound of your voice.
"I know we said we'd meet at ten, but can we make it earlier?" he asks. Then, quieter, "Feel like I can't breathe without you."
He murmurs the last part, as if it's a secret. Something sacred.
"Of course, Buck. I can be ready by nine?"
"Thanks, sweet girl. I'll pick you up?"
"Perfect. See you then."
"See you then."
It's almost painful to hang up the phone. It's like there's a gravitational force in The Universe, willing you against it. You ignore it defiantly and press the red button, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.
There's something in your gut telling you that this might just be the first day of the rest of your life. You certainly can't go back to the way things were. You're not sure if you want to.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Bucky arrives at 8:45.
You're in the bathroom with the door closed, so you don't hear him pull up. You feel it. Like a magnetism, alerting you to his whereabouts. You breathe a little easier immediately, knowing he's outside.
You grab your bag and the picnic and pull on your shoes, eager to see him. You feel like a teenager again, giddy with anticipation. Apart from, this isn't your average first date. No, this is your last first date ever. This is a first date with the man you're bound to spend the rest of your life with. No pressure, you tell yourself. One step at a time.
Your heart kicks up in double time, thundering against your ribcage. You inhale deeply, cracking your knuckles. You can do this. It's just Bucky.
You bound down your stairs, practically running to his truck. Bucky's leaning against the passenger door, the wind ruffling his hair, sunlight reflecting off his steely blue eyes. He's wearing shorts and a white button up, which is blowing gently in the breeze. His sleeves are pushed up his forearms, exposing his gorgeous tanned skin. He has several shirt buttons undone, accentuating his broad chest, sunglasses tucked into the breast pocket. He looks so handsome. So classically elegant. Like he belongs in an old movie - a perfect leading man.
He eyes you carefully, gauging your reaction. You can tell he doesn't want to overstep, worried about pushing you too far too fast. You walk over and run your fingers across his exposed chest gently, tracing a path up his neck until you're caressing his cheek. His stubble tickles your fingertips, causing a smile to curl at the corners of your mouth. You finally meet his gaze, and all your stress is forgotten. You feel peaceful again.
"Hi," you whisper.
"Hi, pretty girl," he murmurs back, hands finding your waist. "You alright?"
"I'm okay. Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," he grins. "So, how do you feel about a day of sailing? You, me, and the ocean, baby."
"I think that sounds perfect."
He opens the car door for you, helping you up and into the passenger seat. He climbs in, clicking on his seat belt and starting the engine. Before he pulls away, he turns and looks at you, holding your stare for a moment. Bucky reaches for you, lacing your fingers together, resting your intertwined hands on your thigh. He begins to drive away, taking you towards the ocean. Towards your future.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You know nothing about sailing.
Luckily, you don't need to. Bucky's quite content to keep you sitting pretty on the top deck while he does all of the work, pulling and tying and knotting. The crisp white sails billow in the wind, the ocean waves providing a steady, constant soundtrack. Birds fly overhead, sunshine beaming down, the wood underneath you warm and smooth. It's paradise.
You're soaking up the sun rays when you hear a click. You sit up to see Bucky holding his film camera, pointed right at you.
"Creep," you tease.
"Just want to have something to look back on. Our first day as soulmates. It's an occasion, you know," he grins.
He moves across the boat to sit next to you, thigh pressed up against yours. He's so close you can taste the spearmint on his breath. You tangle a hand in his hair, caressing the back of his head.
"I brought you a few new things to try," you tell him. "Some recipes I'm testing. I want your honest opinion. No sugar coating. Promise?"
"I promise," he winks, holding up a scouts honour. "I wouldn't lie to you, honey."
You reach over and grab your picnic basket, unwrapping various beeswax packages and laying them out in front of you.
"Okay - we have white chocolate and pistachio muffins, raspberry and lemon macarons, earl grey and lavender cookies and carrot and cinnamon cake."
You glance over at Bucky, expecting him to be deciding what to try first. Instead, you find him watching you carefully, gentle smile etched across his face.
"What?" you laugh.
"Nothing," he beams. "I just... I love it when you start talking about food. You're passionate. You light up."
"Don't make it weird," you joke, slightly taken aback by his honesty. He did promise not to sugar coat.
He reaches for a macaron, eager to try one after you mentioned them yesterday. He pops one in his mouth, and lets out a groan that can only be described as pornographic.
"Fuck," he moans. "This might be the best thing I've ever eaten."
"You promised you wouldn't lie," you laugh.
"I'm not," he chuckles, placing his hand over his heart. "I swear to you. These things should be used as medicine. They'd cure anything."
"Shut up," you tease bashfully, bumping your shoulder into his.
He tries the other sweets one by one, complimenting you immensely. He's so specific in the way he commends your baking. He comments on certain flavours, and textures, and the way everything melts on his tongue. He really takes the time to think about what he says. It's so intimate.
"You're gonna do this for a living, right?" he asks, turning to face you.
"I hope so," you confess. "It's all I want to do. Going to culinary school was a huge risk, but I did it. It was difficult, but they were also the best four years of my life. I just learned so much. I want to put it all into practice."
"I think you should. It'd be such a waste if you didn't. You're so talented, sugar."
"Thanks, Buck," you grin. "I just don't know where to start."
He thinks for a moment.
"If you could do anything, anything in the world - what would you do?"
He's looking at you so intensely, you almost want to shy away. His steel blue eyes are boring into you, reading your mind, figuring out your soul.
"I'd... I'd open a bakery of my own. I want a lot that overlooks the ocean. With big windows."
Bucky smiles gently, adoration written across his face.
"I'd be your most loyal customer," he vows. "Oh, I have a better idea - I'll be your quality control. I'll taste test everything before you sell it. You know, just in case."
"Just in case," you laugh. "Right."
"It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it," he winks.
The sound of your laughter is like dopamine to Bucky. It fires off neurons in his brain, receptors buzzing and alight. He almost feels drunk off the sound, floating above ground.
You relax into him, laying down and resting your head in his lap. He's warm, and soft, and so comfortable. You could lie here forever.
He runs his fingers through your hair gently, playing with the strands. The repetitive rocking of the boat lulls you into an easy sleep, the sunlight wrapping around you, taking the place of a blanket. Bucky watches you drift off, unable to wipe the smile off his face.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
A particularly strong gust of wind wakes you, rousing you from sleep. Your fingers are interlinked with Bucky's, head still resting on his strong thighs.
"How long was I out?" you ask, looking up at him.
"Like, twenty minutes? You looked peaceful, thought I'd let you rest."
"Sorry, Buck," you chuckle.
"Hey, don't apologise. I'll take it as a compliment. You know, they say you only sleep around the people you feel safe with."
"They say a lot of fuckin' things," you laugh, repeating his words from yesterday.
"I do, though," you say after a moment. "Feel safe with you. It's not just the soulmate thing. I always have."
Bucky leans down to press his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. He pulls away and kisses the spot where you were just connected.
"We should talk about us," you murmur, sitting up to face him.
"Uh oh. Are you breaking up with me?" Bucky jokes, nudging your knee with his.
"Yeah, right," you scoff. "As if you'd be so lucky. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."
"I'll survive," he winks. "But we should. Talk about us."
You look at each other for a moment, carefully. You notice that the ocean is reflecting in Bucky's eyes, waves gleaming and blue.
"I don't know where to start," you whisper.
"Maybe start at the beginning," he suggests, reaching out to rest his palm on your thigh, fingertips rubbing comforting circles into your skin.
"I... I think - I think we should do exactly that. Start at the beginning."
He nods at you reassuringly, urging you to continue.
"I want to start slow. Really slow. I know we already know each other, but this... this is different. We don't know each other like this."
"Like soulmates," he agrees. "It's a whole other level. A league of its own."
"Exactly. I know we're Tethered, but, I think we should treat this like a normal relationship. We should date, and just... take this step by step."
"One step at a time," he confirms. "Prepare yourself, honey. I'm about to date the hell outta you."
"Someone save me," you laugh, throwing your head back. "All those poor girls that have come before me - they had to put up with this?"
He laughs with you, the sound rumbling in his chest.
"Trust me, sugar, you're different."
Bucky leans forward and slots his lips to yours, hands going to your waist to pull you closer.
Kissing your soulmate is unlike any other feeling. It's complete serenity. Two bodies, designed by The Universe to fit together perfectly.
Your fingers thread through Bucky's hair as you move to sit in his lap, straddling him. You grind your hips forward, illiciting a groan from the both of you.
Bucky slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting the sugar there. He can't get enough. You're so sweet and soft underneath his hands, underneath his tongue. He wants more.
He tips you backwards, so you're lying flat on the deck. Bucky moves to kneel in between your legs, prying them open gently. He kisses his way from your ankle to your knee, occasionally nipping at your flesh. He likes the idea of there being a mark on you that he left. He feels more protective of you than he ever has of anyone. The feeling vibrates through his bones, fires up his nerve endings. He needs to feel every inch of your skin as soon as possible, or he's convinced he'll burst into flames.
He smooths his hands up your thighs, fingers catching in the waistband of your shorts. He shimmies them down your legs, and inhales sharply at the sight before him. You're laid out on the deck of his boat like a goddess, the white shirt adorning your body matching the white lace underwear underneath. The sun rays are beating down, illuminating you, making you glow from the inside out. Bucky can't breathe, looking at you. He feels like all of the oxygen has been stolen from his lungs, replaced with pure desire.
You're breathless, panting, chest heaving. You're shaking with anticipation, willing him to do something. Anything.
"Bucky," you whine. "Please."
He's never heard a prettier sound. It's like angel song, the way you say his name.
"Patience, sweets. I thought we were taking it slow."
"Asshole," you laugh, poking him in the chest with your toe. "You're a hypocrite."
"Am I?" he smirks, running his fingertips across the inside of your thighs.
"Yes. You can't kiss me like that and then tell me to have patience."
"My apologies, ma'am."
He leans over and kisses you again, biting your bottom lip as he pulls away. Bucky slips your underwear down your legs and tucks them into the pocket of his shorts, ignoring your scoff as you watch him do it.
"Come here, pretty baby," he murmurs, tugging at your hips to pull you closer to him.
He nudges your core with his nose, inhaling deeply. It's filthy, the action, but it makes you ache with want. He licks into the crease of your thigh next, tasting the salt on your skin. Your hand flies to his hair, tugging the chocolate strands. You whine again, and Bucky commits the sound to memory.
He surprises you by sucking your clit gently, causing your hips to buck up towards his mouth. He splays one hand across your stomach, holding you down. He uses his other hand to insert a finger into you, groaning at your warmth. He crooks it up, and you keen.
"I know, baby, I know," he coos, adding a second finger.
You're not sure if it's because of the glaring sunlight or because of Bucky, but there's a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin, dripping down your temple. You're burning from the inside out, white hot heat running through your veins.
He thrusts both fingers in and out of you steadily, curling them on the up stroke. You throw your head back, hips wriggling and writhing.
"Where you going, pretty girl?" he drawls. "Come here - that's it."
He pulls you back to him, fingers never stopping. He looks up at you, and notices that you've thrown a hand over your face, shielding yourself.
"Don't go shy on me now," he practically purrs, smiling when you move your arm away. "Most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"Fuck," you moan, suddenly glad you're in the middle of the ocean. The sounds you're letting out are filthy.
"I know, pretty baby. I know."
His fingers push you closer and closer to the edge, speeding up slightly. You're whining, keening, hips bucking up into him. You can't stay still. You feel like you're on fire, red hot electricity running through you. It's never been like this with anyone before. It never will be again.
"You're close, honey, I can feel it. You're almost there," he drawls. "Atta girl. Come on, baby. You got it. Good girl."
His low, honeyed words throw you into your climax, back arching off the sun warmed wood. Bucky talks you through it, encouraging and praising you in hushed murmurs. You see stars, bright white patterns flashing behind your eyelids. The world goes quiet for a moment, and all you feel is peace.
Bucky brings you back to reality by rubbing soothing circles into the bare skin of your thigh, still muttering softly. He lets you catch your breath before leaning over and kissing you gently.
"You okay, sugar?"
You smile at him in a daze, still floating on air.
"I'm good, Buck. Very good, actually."
He laughs at your response, moving your hair away from your face. You sit up to look at him, admiring him carefully.
"You're so pretty," you whisper. "I mean, I've always known it. But now, it's so... blinding. You're the most beautiful person in the world."
He's not sure how to process your words. He's never felt so loved, so safe, so appreciated before. It's overwhelming. He doesn't know what to say - so instead, he kisses you hard.
"You're the sweetest girl in the world, you know that right?" he whispers against your lips.
He moves to sit behind you, so your back is resting against his chest. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He smells like warmth, and salt, and home.
"I don't think we should tell my parents," you say lowly, afraid to ruin the moment. "Not yet, anyway."
"I agree," he reassures. "I think we should figure this out first. Figure us out."
You lean up and peck his lips gently, pulling away to trace your fingertips over the contours of his face.
"It's gonna take a while to figure this out, isn't it?"
"That's the thing, sweet girl. We have all the time in the world."
You relax back into his arms, letting his steady heartbeat lull you into complete tranquility.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You spend all day on the boat with Bucky, soaking up the sun. Your shirts are billowing in the wind, hair blowing in every direction. The ocean rocks you both in routine motion, gentle and calming.
He teaches you the basics of sailing, sitting knee to knee with you while you repeatedly tie knots into pieces of rope. He stands behind you comfortingly as you pull and tug at the rigging, supporting you only when you ask for help.
The two of you sit tangled together on the deck, enjoying your picnic. You take a moment to rub sunblock into Bucky's shoulders, ignoring the heat that rises in your chest when he groans in delight. He's irresistible. This is more than just lust. This is a magnetism, an almost animalistic connection. It's quite literally written in the stars.
The both of you are clearly reluctant to go home. You sit in Bucky's truck outside your apartment for hours, talking about nothing and everything. You don't invite him upstairs. You know that if you do, you'll jump his bones instantly. You've both agreed to take this slow. You have to start being strict with yourselves, or you'll just keep ending up in bed.
Eventually, your stomach rumbles, making Bucky chuckle.
"You should go. Eat something."
"I know. I just... I like being with you."
He leans over the centre console to press a kiss to your lips, revelling in the way you taste like the ocean breeze.
"There's no one else in the world I'd rather be with," he murmurs against your mouth.
You pull away and take a deep breath, preparing to leave Bucky for tonight.
"Thank you, for today. It's been perfect."
"Perfect day for a perfect girl," he winks, making you both laugh.
"One step at a time."
"All the time in the world," he echoes.
"Goodnight, Buck," you whisper, moving in closer to press your forehead to his.
"Goodnight, honey girl," he whispers back, pecking your lips quickly.
He jumps out of the drivers side to help you down from the truck, holding your hand carefully. You smile at the déjà vu. He does too.
You look back at him once more before closing your front door. He's already looking at you, his eyes never once leaving your frame, smile never leaving his face.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You're curled up on the couch when your phone rings, startling you from your peace. You look at the caller ID in confusion.
"Stella? Hey - you okay?"
"Hey, you. Long time no see, huh?"
"It's been a while," you laugh. "I didn't expect a call from you."
"I'm sorry we haven't talked in so long. I've been super busy - I'm opening my own café! It has a bookshop inside it too - oh it's gorgeous, you wouldn't even believe it."
"That sounds amazing, Stella. I'm so happy for you, wow."
"I'm actually calling because I have something to ask you."
"Ask away, Stell."
"I have a sort of... proposition for you. An offer, if you will."
"You're really building the anticipation here," you chuckle.
"Sorry, sorry! So, I'm gonna need a Head Baker. I can't do it, because I'll be manager, and I'm the owner which is a tough job in itself. Opening a café is fucking difficult, you know!" she laughs, before continuing. "You'd have complete creative control - you'd design your own bakes, everything would be completely down to you. There's quite literally only one person in this world that I'd want to do this job, and it's you."
You almost can't believe what she's telling you. It sounds perfect. It sounds like a dream.
"Stella - are you sure? This is a huge deal. You want me?"
"I only want you. I can't picture working alongside anyone else. We made such a good team in culinary school, and we always said we'd find each other in the future."
"I... I don't even know what to say."
"Say yes!" she encourages, giggling down the phone.
"Yes!" you echo, giddy with joy. "God, Stella, yes!"
You're smiling from ear to ear, unable to wipe the grin off your face. Your dream job has been presented to you on a silver platter. You'd be stupid not to take it.
"I mean - when do I start? What should I wear? Do you want a set menu, or can I change it up all the time? Vegan options? Gluten free?"
"I can send you all of the boring stuff in an email - contracts, salary information, all that shit. You can quite literally do whatever the fuck you want, girl. I trust you completely. I trust your culinary skills even more."
"Oh my god, I'm so excited. Thank you, Stella. Seriously. This is just amazing."
"I can't wait to have you here with me again!"
You process for a moment, trying to make sense of what she just said.
"Wait... what? Where?"
"In California. The café is here, in California!"
You can't hear her next words due to the ringing in your ears. Your chest tightens, your hands ball into fists, your breathing becomes ragged.
There's a million thoughts racing through your mind, and you can't quite get a firm grasp on any of them.
Bucky would never leave this place. This is his home. I can't ask him to abandon his life here - I wouldn't want to. We've been soulmates for two days. What about his job? His friends? Would I leave everything behind and move across the country for him? I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I can't have my cake and eat it too. He'd give everything up for me in a heartbeat - I can't let him. It's not fair.
You're suddenly intensely aware - you have to make a choice.
Bucky or your dreams.
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3K notes · View notes
tranquil-ivy · 26 days
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NSFW ALPHABET
[DI! Leon S Kennedy Edition]
❗Minors Do Not Interact ❗
A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)
Cuddler, massive cuddler. Honestly I see Leon as enjoying his partner being cuddled up to his chest but as long as you're touching each other he really doesn't mind. He just needs to be grounded after sex because he's not use to intimacy. (Remember y'all, aftercare in important FOR EVERYBODY INVOLVED DOM/SUB/SWITCH WHOEVER!!!)
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)
Definitely proud of his arms. Man's got two pythons where his forearms are supposed to be. I'd be proud of those bitches too. It also doesn't help how often you tend to cling to them, admire them while cuddling up together or compliment how they look when he flexes.
When Leon's asked the good old "tits or ass?" question older than time itself he smirks and simply says thighs. He loves something plush to nap on when he comes home from work. He always says it'll be a quick 30 minute nap but he's always out for 3 hours when he's laying his head on your lap. They're just such a nice pillow and even nicer wrapped around his head.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Usually prefers finishing inside. If not then on your stomach. There's just something mesmerizing about watching his cum slowly drip out of you on down your belly that just makes him so horny that he can't get enough of you.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Okay... So you send Leon pictures and he saves them. (He'd never share them though) But he secretly has an album in his phone labeled as WORK meticulously organization so that when you open the album it has important looking photos but if you scroll far enough it's just things you've sent him. Nudes, videos, even screenshots of steamy texts.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)
Decently experienced. Enough to get him by but also good at listening to his partner. Takes criticism well in the bedroom. Just wants his partner to have a good time and show that he loves you.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
On your side or anything he can see your face. He's often tired so slow easy strokes on his side and using his hands is right up his alley. But for when he's feeling more energetic he's definitely up anything he can see your reaction with. He aims to please and the man is a good shot.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Definitely 50/50. Leon can crack jokes when his life is at risk I'm sure he'd probably say something goofy to make you laugh or even something stupid like "come here often?" When you're changing positions and his creaky body pops or cracks he'll say some smart ass comment about the bed makes weird sounds again.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Definitely trimmed. Leon doesn't strike me as a massively hairy guy to begin with. But what hair he does have is well kept.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Intimacy is his favorite part of it all. Very tender and soft compared to what he is during work. Enjoys the touching the most. He's very touch starved. Cuddle him and he'll melt into a puddle. He LOVES being little spoon.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Jerks off often. Uses it as a stress relief thing but doesn't do it as often when he gets a partner. But I do think when he's away on cases and he has downtime at night he tends to call his partner and have phone sex.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Begging, biting, breeding, dirty talk, edging and roleplaying
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere at home. Leon would most likely be super hesitant about doing anything outside of the house and risking criminal record.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
His partners touch. Leon just really likes being touched. If you mostly just kiss him and move to his neck (it's sensitive, that's why he rarely wears anything that constricts his neck) you'll get him going in no time.
N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
No hitting, nothing with feet, no bathroom related stuff, no voyeurism or exhibitionism and no humiliation
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
50/50. But definitely more giving in the oral department. Uses it as a form of foreplay. Enjoys it because he loves hearing your slowly break and cry for him.
Sometimes he's just to exhausted to fuck so those are the times he'll just straight up tell you to sit on his face. He doesn't care if you're bigger, he knows you're not gonna hurt him. If you try hovering her will definitely wrap his arms around your thighs and pull you down on him. The man is skilled with his mouth and hands. So be prepared for the time of your life.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Definitely slow sensual type of guy. He likes making every moment last. But there's definitely been a flurry of passion after gets back from particularly long cases.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
If he has to go out for work and he has a little bit of time before leaving, most definitely he'd be down for a quickie.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He's fine with experimenting but not often.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Good for 3 rounds unless he's super tired. Last decently long, always makes sure his partner gets off first each time.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Oh Leon definitely owns one of those vibrators that work with apps. Sometimes when he's due to come home and he knows you have it in you he'll just tease you on the way home.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Usually Leon doesn't tease but when he's in a particular frisky mood, he will make beg to cum. And he doesn't care if you want it. If you don't beg like he wants he will make you wait and keep bringing you to the edge over and over like an asshole.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Not loud in the slightest but he's definitely not scared to moan or whimper. Even curse under his breath, especially if he has you on your side and he's right in your ear.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Said I love you for the first time during sex. Was mortified with himself, he meant it but was extremely embarrassed. Apologized profusely and told you he did mean it. And thankfully you love him back, obviously.
X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)
Ah yes, python 3. I'll be honest, I'd say he's at the higher average end in size but makes up for it in girth... Like a fucking coke can.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Leon had little to no sex drive but once you two got into a relationship he's like a teenage boy again. Can barely stop from wanting you all the time. But he's still more of the romantic intimate type and would rather just exist with you than constantly be at each other.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He clings onto life afterwards. Just wants to make sure you're taken care of but the second you relax against him he's down for the count. Like a god damn bear in hibernation.
835 notes · View notes
sixosix · 5 months
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and his voice is a familiar sound | scaramouche
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forced proximity + childhood friends reuniting, humor, kissing and tension. suggestive implications and suggestive humor, a bit of scara’s mommy issues, wc 5k
ft. a down bad jealous bf scaramouche, bffs heizou and kazuha, and aether bc aether always has to be there
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“If I ask you to come with us for a vacation, would you say yes?”
Your bedroom was already too cramped for one person, with what you could afford with your money after quitting your part-time job. It made it incredibly difficult for all parties involved when you invited someone over, especially when that person had no concept of personal space. You barely looked up from the pages of your book, humming halfheartedly to whatever Heizou is saying. You heard vacation and instantly decided to not waste your time.
Heizou must have sensed these thoughts, too, because he forces himself into your field of view by nearly climbing over your lap. “Hey, look at me. Would you say yes?”
“Heizou!” you hissed, pushing him off before Heizou could wrinkle the pages of the book that’s definitely overdue for borrowing time. You started to think about taking another part-time job if your friends kept inviting themselves over and invading your personal space.
Heizou looked at you, his face doing a complicated combination of a frown and a smug grin. “Come on. You never join us on trips…”
“For good reason,” you said, gesturing to the lapful of Heizou you are currently getting bombarded with.
“You’re so mean,” Heizou laughed, thankfully getting off your lap. He refused to let go of you, however, immediately wrapping an arm over your shoulder and pressing up against your side. This must be one of his techniques to make the people he was questioning feel restricted. It was working. “How will you get yourself to settle for a nice, young man with that attitude? What are you even reading?”
“I grabbed whatever book had a pleasing cover so I can tune your nonsense out.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.
“What?” Heizou clapped the book shut and turned to you with the eyes of a reprimanding mother. “I swear I’m being serious. Can’t you consider it for even a minute? You’re breaking my heart. Plus, Kazuha’s the one who’s inviting us out.”
Hmm. What a compelling argument. Heizou knew that no one could ever say no to Kazuha. You wouldn’t really care if your absence would break Heizou’s heart, but Kazuha’s disappointed eyes were enough to put a god to their knees.
You zeroed in on Heizou’s wording. “Who’s ‘us’?”
Heizou started listing each with a raise of a finger. “Just Kazuha and Aether—and a friend we met recently. Kazuha invited him.”
You frowned. You didn’t know Aether visited again. “How the hell did Aether get invited?” Then, upon careful reflection: “And who’s the new friend?”
“If he was around, why not, right?” Heizou laughed, carefully setting the overdue book aside from your view. “The new friend’s Scaramouche. Have you met him before?”
What a strange name. Kazuha always managed to befriend people from all over, like a child bringing home turtles and a new species of bugs. You made a note to look him up. “Never heard of him.”
He hummed. “Said he came from Sumeru but he looked pretty Inazuman to me. Funny guy. He’s like a disgruntled baby brother.”
“And you only met him, what, recently? Why is he invited to our group already?” you asked, like the territorial person you are. How come it seemed like you were the last to know about this guy?
Aether was alright. Aether came back every few months to check up on everyone and got roped into all kinds of things with your friends, so you knew him well enough already. You liked his long braid. Heizou and Kazuha had been your friends for as long as you could remember being a college student.
Heizou grinned, patting your head. “Scaramouche’s nice, I promise. You wouldn’t even notice he’s there.”
At your dubious stare, Heizou amended, “C’mon, do you think I’m the type to befriend an asshole?”
Yes, but Heizou wasn’t the type to befriend a major asshole whose opinions he vehemently disagreed with, and he thought belonged better in jail, so you had to think about it for a bit. At the very least, this new guy didn’t seem like a criminal.
Your friends loved traveling, with Kazuha mostly being the culprit, but you liked staying inside most of the time. They never forced you to go with them, so why was Heizou being suspiciously persistent today?
“I think he’s your type,” Heizou finally said, caving in.
“You’re trying to hook me up with him?”
“Not exactly… but you two would seem cute.” He went silent for a thoughtful moment. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed if you slept together.”
You made a face.
Heizou laughed brightly. “Alright, alright. You can go back to being the good poster student you are if you promise to think about it. Seriously. Kazuha’s moving to Liyue soon—he’s probably inviting us out because of that.”
“I’ll think about it,” you said, reaching around for your book.
You would. What Heizou said about Kazuha made you remember that there are only a few weeks left until this is all over—then, after that, you all might go your separate ways. That thought floated around your mind for a little while as Heizou made himself comfortable on your bed, sighing before he dozed off.
You sighed, shuffling to give him space. “If this is your way of trying to make me get laid, try to at least be subtle and not weird me out before I even meet the guy.”
You stalked Kazuha’s Insta to search up this Scaramouche guy and nearly dropped your phone.
scaramouche11206. It was empty, entirely useless for your research. Scaramouche’s profile was a public account, had zero posts, and had four people he was following. It was Kazuha, Aether, Heizou, and a Vahumana Darshan update page.
You checked the tagged posts, and your jaw dropped to the ground.
Scaramouche was Kunikuzushi.
Heizou was taking a group selfie in the image, his tongue stuck out and winking while the camera showed two other men. On the left was Kazuha, with his ever-polite smile, then on the other, with the all-black getup was what the tags said was scaramouche11206.
It was a little difficult to tell why you were enamoured with the masked face with a short hime cut for a moment, but the piercing stare to the camera couldn’t be mistaken. It was a minute of staring before it clicked. This was your Kunikuzushi.
You dialed Heizou before you could even think about it.
“What…? It’s five a.m.” He sounded like he just woke up, “What’s up?”
You swiped back to the image of Scaramouche, as if staring at it any longer would imprint each pixel to your brain and bring him to life before you. “Hey, where’s Kazuha? Tell him I’m going.”
YEARS AGO.
Summer. The cicadas rang in your ears. They chirped about as you and Kunikuzushi trudged further into the forest. Sunlight peeked through the leaves, splashing Kunikuzushi’s beautiful face in a delicate glow.
Komorebi. Shadows scattered on the ground. Kunikuzushi lifted his head and turned to you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
His voice was quiet, but even with the wind and the singing cicadas, you could hear him loud and clear. You could pick out his voice from a crowd. Your heart would know where to find him.
“I like looking at you,” you said. “I like you.”
He accepted the answer and continued walking. You beamed. Usually, Kunikuzushi would scoff and bat your words away, hiding his flustered face. But he didn’t.
Longing. Kunikuzushi turned back to you, stopping in his steps. You nearly bumped onto his back. “Do you like me enough to marry me?”
Was this a marriage proposal? You tried to think of you and Kunikuzushi, walking down aisles and reciting vows, and almost laughed. But then you tried to think of anyone else. You tried to think of a life without Kunikuzushi.
You thought of Kunikuzushi with anyone else and nearly threw up in his face. “You’re the only one for me.”
“Even if I hurt you?”
You frowned. “You would never hurt me, Kuni.”
Kunikuzushi’s expression crumpled. He could never hide anything from you; he was too expressive, eyes round and lip trembling. Your heart sunk to your stomach. You reached for his hands and forced him to look at you. “Kuni, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
He looked at the ground. “I said I didn’t want to live with her anymore. I didn’t really think Mom would make Aunt Nahida take me.”
The cicadas faded. The world fell into a hush. Your grip on his hands grew weak. “What?”
Kunikuzushi didn’t have a good relationship with his mother; you knew that. They were complicated. They always fought and he grew up to loathe her. You knew that. But you didn’t think…
You breathed in deeply. It was not Kunikuzushi’s fault. It was not Ei’s—and definitely not Nahida’s fault. It was just the way things go sometimes.
You forced a laugh, hoping to ease the troubled expression on his face. “Were you proposing because you’re moving away?”
Kunikuzushi blushed. “Shut up.”
Your face softened. He was always so cute when his face was as red as the red by his eyes.
Kunikuzushi inhaled sharply, taking your hands and looking at you with a determined glint in his eyes. “If I were going to ask you out, I would do it better than anyone who would try to marry you. So don’t entertain them.”
The trip’s plan was basically swimming when you could, staying at a hotel, driving out of the hotel to eat somewhere cheaper, and it would be stretched out for a few days. All in all, it didn’t sound too bad. With the type of people you were going out with, you were expecting a lot more drinking (Kazuha) and near-death-related activities (Aether). Although Heizou said it was Kazuha’s trip, he was apparently mistaken.
“It was originally for Scaramouche and his family, but his mother had last-minute changes and couldn’t go,” Kazuha explained as he helped you fit your luggage in the trunk of Aether’s car. “Scaramouche said it would be a waste and told me to invite my friends.”
“Woo-hoo, Scaramouche’s mom!” Heizou cheered.
“When we met her, it seemed like you hated her,” Kazuha mused as Heizou climbed inside the car. You were in the passenger seat while the two were shoved in the back. It seemed that even if you moved to a bigger apartment, you’d end up suffocated by Inazuman men either way.
“Hard not to after hearing Scara’s contempt for her. I’m an empath or something.” 
Aether adjusted the side mirrors. “Are we forgetting anything?”
“Where’s the Scaramouche guy?” you asked.
Heizou cast you a sly smile. “He’s already at the hotel, probably buying us other rooms.”
At least another thing about him hadn’t changed: he’s still disgustingly rich. You did some digging about the hotel, and it was the kind of place you could only dream of even looking at. You suddenly felt severely underdressed for a five-star hotel, with only sweatpants, a duffle bag, and a dream.
“Hmm, I don’t think so,” Kazuha said, and weirdly enough, you caught him looking at you curiously from the sideview mirror.
“No?” Heizou crossed his arms behind his head. “I doubt Scaramouche’s the type to willingly share a room with anyone.”
Aether scoffed, laughing under his breath. “Definitely not with us.”
You looked outside to hide a smile. It seemed that your Kunikuzushi hadn’t really changed drastically. This made you feel better about meeting him again.
“What made you change your mind?” Heizou asked.
You sighed and fell into step along with him as Kazuha and Aether went on ahead. There are families crowding the lobby, draped in gold that matched the fabric of the chandeliers overhead. Their jewelry was brighter than your future. Even the floor smelled expensive.
“Scaramouche did,” you mumbled.
Heizou’s brows lifted to his hairline. “Oh?”
“I mean—I don’t know, I’m not sure yet.” You were absolutely sure, but it’d be embarrassing if he didn’t recognize you at all, and Heizou would think you were just lying. It had been years.
Heizou tilted his head. “Well, whatever it is, I’m rooting for you. And if he fucks up, I know how to pack a punch.”
You didn’t doubt it. Heizou definitely knew how to pack a punch.
The hotel was so fancy and so meant for only rich kids that you and Heizou stood out like sore thumbs by looking around. Some woman your age walked past, her chin high and her steps light. You and Heizou looked at each other, then tried to mimic the same grace as you pair sashayed towards the desk.
“What are you idiots doing?” Aether asked as you reached them.
“Fitting in, unlike you,” Heizou said.
A new voice cut in. “Took you losers long enough.”
Scaramouche turned around after speaking to the clerk, his mouth in a thin line and his stare piercing. He also stood out next to the men in polo with his fingerless gloves and gold rings. He looked like he belonged better on an Inazuman fashion magazine cover than on a hotel vacation with a bunch of losers.
Heizou beamed. “Scara!”
“Hey,” Scaramouche said, then his eyes landed on you.
It was hard to tell if there was any reaction on his face because Heizou went up to him to ruffle his hair, stealing away his attention.
“Thanks for inviting us out. I didn’t know you were the type to want to snuggle with his friends.” Heizou waggled his eyebrows as Scaramouche pushed him away with a hand to Heizou’s face.
Scaramouche wrinkled his nose. “I am not sharing a room with any of you three. You snore, Kazuha snores louder, and I would wake up to Aether’s leg on my stomach the next morning.”
“That was one time,” Aether muttered, blushing.
“How many rooms are reserved?” Kazuha asked.
Scaramouche sighed, craning his neck. He had a really nice side profile. “Still two. The other one with a king and the other with two queens. I was supposed to have the first, but you didn’t tell me you were inviting someone else. This shithole’s booked full now.”
Your gaze fluttered away as they all turned to you. You bit your lip, frowning. Did Scaramouche not recognize you? He was acting like he didn’t. He was treating you like he would any stranger. That upset you, but for the entire car ride, you were also preparing for it. It probably would’ve hurt worse if you hadn’t mentally prepared yourself.
Heizou grinned, slinging an arm over Scaramouche’s shoulder. “I suppose you have no choice but to share a bed with us.”
“No.” Scaramouche picked up his luggage and started rolling away. “Heizou, Kazuha, Aether, you share the king.”
The three men turned to you instead, surprise visible in their expressions. It was exactly because Scaramouche decided to share a room with you, whom he never acknowledged since you arrived.
You wanted to protest. If Scaramouche didn’t recognize you and opted for a choice that didn’t involve sharing a room with anyone, you’d rather sleep on the floor in Kazuha and the others’ room. But Scaramouche was already stepping inside the elevator and was holding the door for you.
You held your gaze to the floor the entire time as Scaramouche pointed at a room and told the three they would sleep there. Scaramouche flashed the card against the door of your room, then stepped inside.
“This one’s ours,” Scaramouche said. You couldn’t detect any hint of emotion.
The room was bigger than the two rooms at your apartment. It had two beds, as Scaramouche said, and a TV across. The room was cold as fuck. You shuddered, and Scaramouche remained unbothered with his layers of clothes that probably cost more than you.
As Scaramouche set his luggage on the bed closest to the window, you gathered the courage to not make this trip any more awkward.
You breathed in deeply. “I’m Y/N—”
“I haven’t forgotten.” He arched an eyebrow as he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at you. “Have you forgotten about me?”
“No, no, of course not,” you said. “I could never forget you, Kunikuzushi.”
You stiffened, thinking it was a mistake and there must’ve been a reason he was called by another name, but you took a look at him and got distracted. His face relaxed when you said his name.
I could never forget you. It was sickeningly true. You can never forget about Kunikuzushi. He was your first love. He was so cute with his wide eyes; and he was very clingy, too, which made him all the more endearing.
But looking at the present Kunikuzushi, with his intense stare and permanently bored expression, he was hot, and you started to think that maybe your type was just Kunikuzushi.
Horror settled in your stomach as Scaramouche flashed a wicked grin.
“Then you wouldn’t mind sleeping with me, would you?”
“He said what?” Heizou cackled, hitting the wall as he threw his head back, laughing.
Scaramouche meant it as sleeping in the same room, but he could have— no, should have worded it better. Scaramouche laid down on his bed right after and went on his phone as if he didn’t say anything at all. You blurted some half-baked excuse and left the room to cry about it in your friends’ room.
When Scaramouche said their room was assigned a king bed, you didn’t expect it to fit five people—and Scaramouche said he wanted it for himself? The bed was incredibly big, almost in a lonely way. You have never seen an Alaskan king bed before, but now, sitting on the edge of it, felt as if you could fit your entire apartment on it.
Kazuha was in between Heizou and Aether, their backs resting on the headboard. They were about to sleep, too, but as soon as you burst in, they settled into position and listened intently. Except Aether, kind of; he was texting his sister, who was demanding a room tour.
“I never thought he would be this bold. I mean, demanding to share a room the moment he laid his eyes on you? Wow,” Heizou said, looking terribly criminal with his expression.
“It is surprising,” Kazuha mused. “I’ve witnessed how women flock to his feet and how he bat them all off like he never saw them.”
An unpleasant feeling washed over, which was weird because why would you be upset? Of course they’d flock to him—with a face like that. He had the looks and the personality that would garner him a lot of masochistic fans if he were a character in a drama.
“Does that happen a lot?” The way you spat it out spelled exactly how upset you are.
“No need to get so jealous, now. After that display, I’m positive that he wants as much as you want him,” Heizou laughed, falling forward and resting his elbows on the mattress. He moved his chin to his palm. He looked like he was going to ask if you wanted to paint nails and curl hairs the next second.
Your face felt hot. What was this conversation? You’d much prefer painting nails than talking about this. “I don’t want him!”
Heizou arched an eyebrow. “No?”
Even Kazuha looked doubtful, which was enough of a blow.
“I’m just confused,” you insisted. “You know what happens when you’re in a room alone with an objectively attractive guy? You get confused.”
“I get it,” Aether said, setting his phone aside to share his insight. “This is your sexual awakening.”
“What? No!”
“It definitely is,” Heizou agreed. “Why else are you crying about this to us?”
There was a sense of impending doom at realizing that Heizou was brewing some horrible, horrible thoughts in that head of his. “To stop feeding into my madness!”
Heizou clicked his tongue. “How do you think he feels? His childhood best friend came back to his life looking like that—I’m surprised he hasn't eaten you right up yet.”
You didn’t know what was more horrifying: Heizou implying he thought you were hot, or him implying that he thought Scaramouche thought you were hot.
Your face must’ve looked like a constipated mix between flustered and horrified; Kazuha chimed in to tell Heizou, “You should be more careful with your words. I’ve never met anyone as possessive as Scaramouche.”
“It’s already a miracle he even remembers me. He wouldn’t get jealous. I doubt he actually wants me that way,” you sighed.
“Oh, but you want him that way?” Heizou asked.
You wanted to slap that expression off Heizou’s face. “Of course I do. He was so cute when we were little—I already liked him then. I didn’t think he’d grow up to be so…”
“Sexual awakening,” Aether said again.
“Ow,” Aether whined when you hit him square on the head.
Reluctantly, you returned to your room. Heizou, Kazuha, and Aether told you to get your shit together and face this not-sexual-awakening like a man. Kazuha didn’t say it, but you could feel that he was also thinking it. And if he ever said it out loud, you’d tell him to go fuck off to Liyue already.
Scaramouche was awake. The door clicked shut, and you faintly felt like those heroines locking themselves up in a room to hook up with someone who they didn’t think was the murderer on the front page right now.
“Where did you go?” he asked.
You tried not to let your surprise show, but Scaramouche was staring so intently that you would’ve failed miserably either way. “The other room.”
The longer you looked at him, the more you realized that Kunikuzushi felt like a fever dream. Being only a few feet away from the guy you used to be so fond of, now grown and had an air of haughtiness that would’ve been a turn-off had it been anyone else— it was doing things to you.
“Are you scared of me?”
You laughed and nearly choked on it when registering that Scaramouche was still looking. It wasn’t something like embarrassment. It was more like laughing unabashedly and then sensing that your hallway crush walked past. Maybe it was a bit of embarrassment.
“No. No, I’m not scared.” You moved to sit on your bed, eyes trained on the wall. “You didn’t tell me you were back.”
“You changed your number. You moved out.”
“Oh.” You did do that. Your apartment was very far from your home.
“And I figured you forgot about me or wanted to forget about me because of what I did to you.”
“Oh.” You wanted to say that he didn’t affect you that much. Life goes on; you meet new people and lose them every day, and all that. But Scaramouche was affecting you that much, especially when he’s only a few feet away from you, looking like he wanted you to pounce him.
Scaramouche grinned lopsidedly. “But I guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
What the hell does that mean? Your heart skipped a beat. Did he figure it out? Were you that obvious with your thoughts about pouncing?
Scaramouche stood up from his bed, moving towards yours slowly. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”
You tried to avoid getting too close by leaning back, but he kept drawing his face closer, bending towards you. You’re one last tilt away from him pinning you down on the bed.
“No,” you blurted before you could even think about it. It was a little difficult to think about anyone else when you were a breath away from kissing. “Why?”
Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed, electric indigo. “Do you still have a crush on me?”
“You’re asking too many questions.”
“We’re catching up. This is how it works, doesn’t it?”
No, it was definitely not how this worked. Your neck was starting to ache with this awkward angle, and he hadn’t even answered your question.
“Do you?” he repeated, hovering above you.
You gave up on the painful angle and laid flat on the bed, frowning up at him. You crossed your arms to achieve the stance of someone who will not back down easily. “How are you so sure I even had a crush on you?”
“You’re telling me I’m wrong?”
What was this? Some fucked up game of 21 questions, but Scaramouche was too high and mighty to follow the rules? You didn’t know what to say to that. You wisely decided to stay silent, glaring up at him.
You probably didn’t look intimidating at all. Scaramouche smiled, much less sharper. Almost fond as his eyes flicked down to somewhere below your nose. “Am I still the only one for you?”
Okay. You would back down easily if he kept looking at you like that.
“You didn’t hurt me, Kuni.” You sighed. “You never could.”
Scaramouche straightened, his face carefully blank. It was much harder to read him like this. You sat up, wanting to ask if it was the wrong thing to say. You couldn’t get the words out because he lunged for a kiss.
You might have gasped. You might have made some embarrassing noise while a laugh rumbled from the back of Scaramouche’s throat. But that was all thrown out the window the moment your eyes fluttered shut and you lost yourself in the sensation of his warm mouth on yours.
He pushed closer, and you were pulled back on the mattress, his arms on either side of your head. Your eyes flew open when Scaramouche nipped at your lip. As if suddenly remembering where and who you were, you forced his chest back and gaped.
“What?” He looked irritated you interrupted him.
“At least say it back!”
“You didn’t even say it,” Scaramouche said, one eyebrow raised.
“I like you, Kunikuzushi.”
Scaramouche turned red and then looked humbled that you saw it. “I still like you, too.”
You looked at him up and down. You asked, but you didn’t want to hear the answer. “And you didn’t have anyone while you were in Sumeru?”
“Of course not,” Scaramouche scoffed. “You think anyone there was worth my time? You think I’d settle for less than you?” He scowled. “How about you? Nevermind, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I’d do it better than any of them.”
You laughed, tugging him close with your arms around his neck. If anyone were to come in, they would assume the worst. Then again, maybe Scaramouche had plans to indulge in the worst.
wake up! let’s eat breakfast at the restaurant we saw yesterday!
ask scaramouche. so he can pay for us
Despite the freedom and space of lying on separate queen beds, you and Scaramouche were huddled and pressed close. And despite books in your bag, you were occupied with huddling and pressing close against Scaramouche. You were lying on his chest while he had an arm resting on your stomach.
As soon as Heizou’s texts appeared on the top banner of your screen, you looked up, and Scaramouche looked like he was going to murder someone.
“It’s a joke, probably,” you said. “They don’t see you as a wallet.”
“It’s not a joke,” Scaramouche said. “I don’t really care about that. You and Heizou close?”
“He’s the one who introduced me to Kazuha and the others.” You sat up from the comfortable position and stretched.
“So you’re close.”
“Oh, very much so.” Then you laughed at Scaramouche’s thunderous expression. “Idiot. Why are you jealous? He’s not the one I’m sharing a room with and was making out with last night.”
Scaramouche’s gaze cut down to your neck. He looked extremely pleased.
You and Scaramouche took the elevator down, holding hands throughout. You felt a little giddy. What must this look like to everyone else? They’d all assume you were out with your boyfriend. As you reached your friends, Aether had just started the car. Kazuha slipped into the passenger seat, and Heizou waved at the both of you.
Then Heizou gasped. Aether turned to you and gasped as well.
“What happened to you? You look like you were mauled by a tiger,” Aether asked, scandalized.
“If the tiger had a short hime cut and a thick wallet, maybe,” Heizou mused. You flipped him off and climbed inside the car. Heizou laughed and sat beside you.
Aether frowned. “What kind of tiger would that be?”
You groaned, burying your face in your palms and wishing that lightning would strike you down. You needed coffee. Or a beer. Maybe if you bat your eyelashes and kissed him on the lips, Scaramouche would buy you bottles of wine.
As if summoned by your thoughts, a figure forced himself in between you and Heizou. Scaramouche worked fast. He glared at Heizou and tugged you away from him.
Heizou’s eyes went wide. “What’d I do?”
“Know your place, Shikanoin,” Scaramouche said. You just wanted to at least not be half-sitting on his lap, but he was proving a point and didn’t let you budge.
Kazuha smiled. “I warned you, Heizou.”
“Damn,” Heizou said. He looked exhausted. He was the one who suggested you and Scaramouche hook up in the first place—did he not expect his intuition to be right this time? “Didn’t take you for the clingy type. Two more days of this?”
“This is not some fling,” Scaramouche hissed. “You think I don’t take this seriously?”
You smiled as your heart fluttered. Scaramouche could be so unintentionally sweet sometimes, not that you’d tell it to his face, because he would grumble and hide his face. You rather liked his face. It was pretty, and you knew that if you tugged his hood down, you’d see a bruise on his neck as well.
“Didn’t take him for a romantic as well,” Kazuha said, thoroughly entertained.
“Wait, are you actually a thing now?” Aether made a face. “What the hell happened in that room?”
Scaramouche smirked. “You sure you wanna know?”
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a/n it was already so hard for me to not turn it into a heizou fic dude. That entire first part was so unnecessary i was just hopelessly infatuated. BUT ANYWAY!!1 thank you so much for reading i hope u liked it <3 if u do, leave a comment or a reblog so i can see your thoughts :DD
also, another note: on the day i wrote this fic the insta acc of scara didnt exist. so if it does by the time youve read this fic, its pure coincidence and i have nothing to do w it. or maybe i did, because i came up w the name HAHA
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emmyrosee · 4 months
Text
You went to bed before Kiyoomi.
You never do that. Ever since you’ve moved in with him, your nights end with a massive pile of cuddling limbs and sweet words of sticky nothings that have you cocooned and ready for a peaceful night.
But tonight, he snapped at you. Something about being too “irate” over “something small.”
He missed dinner. And normally, that wouldn’t be a massive issue for you. But he was with asshole of a PR member who’s been trying to get with him for months, calling themselves his “work babe.” Who were you to think nothing funny wasn’t going down?
It's not a lack of trust from Kiyoomi that has you choked up. It's a lack of trust with them.
You know more than anyone when kindness turns to love, it's the same thing that happened between you both, and it kills you to think they could preform the same spell and potentially take your man from you.
You tell yourself that if they can take him, they can have him.
But the idea hurts none the less.
It hurts enough where you're curled up on your side of the bed, far from Kiyoomi's, where his smell lingers and the coldness on your body isn't offset by his warmth like it usually is. You whimper and bury your face in the meat of your pillow when you hear the front door open, and a soft call of your name follows. You didn't even know he left, to be frank, but you don't say anything as he stalks into the bedroom with another call of your name.
"Are you awake?"
"Am now," you murmur.
"Can we please talk about things?" He sounds desperate, like he knows this is killing you, weighing you down like a sac of bricks and keeping you from him.
"You talk," you say, nodding into your pillow. "I have nothing to say."
"Okay. I understand."
A muscular arm reaches over your frame to reach for your hand, and when you don't put up a fight to keep his hand away, he sighs shakily.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, linking his pinkie finger with yours. You screw your eyes shut and sniffle, and you hear him swallow thickly. “I was just so upset to know that you were right to worry-“
“What?”
“Wait- No!” He says quickly, panic in his voice. “No, wait, that’s not what I meant.” He’s never been good with his words. You let him continue, your heart sinking into your stomach all the same. He sighs shakily, “I meant that you were right about me being here. I should’ve been. We haven’t had dinner together in weeks, and I just… I got so caught up in new sponsorships and gigs that I wanted more, and I thought they had more to give.”
“They want you, Kiyoomi,” you mumble. “I see it. It’s the same way I bugged you when we first started dating, just to show how much I liked you. They’re doing that.”
“I know,” he sighs. Then, he pauses, squeezing your pinky, “I went to talk to them. Told them if they couldn't keep it professional and cut the shit, they can search for other clients. Because I don't want them making either of us uncomfortable anymore. And even if they did want me, I don't care.” He crawls over to you and bends slightly to have his head dangling in front of you, curls flipping upside down at the action. “Because I want you.”
You snort at the sight.
“So can we please cuddle, and you grab my teeth or sniff me or whatever feral thing you usually do?” He asks, leaning forward to kiss you on the nose. “Miss your stupid affections.”
“I miss giving them to you,” you say, moving a finger up slowly to try and pick his nose, just to make him squirm, a sign of a truce. He grunts and whips his head back, letting your laughter fill the room, rather than your tears. When you feel him sit back on his side of the bed, you take your time in flipping over, finally meeting his dark eyes again, filled with hope and adoration that has you falling in love with him all over again.
"You are irresistible," you say, reaching for his hand again.
"Don't care. I don't want anyone looking at me if it means you and I never fight again."
You laugh and gently kiss his hand, flicking your gaze up at him, "we'll go look at paper bags for you to wear this weekend."
He removes his hand from yours to gently cup your cheek, thumb stroking over the swells lovingly.
"It's a date."
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