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#please do not look too closely at the banner though
ulfrsmal · 1 year
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Trigger Warnings: none.
Explicit⫽ Spartacus/Varro ⫽ No Archive Warnings Apply ⫽ one-shot
Perhaps Spartacus hadn’t meant anything by that damned line, but Varro could not take it out of his head no matter how hard he tried; and so on this night he lets himself be taken to a room not his own to clear his head once and for all.
Read Logged-In On AO3
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revehae · 3 months
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hurts so good (1)
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pairing ↠ jeno x you x mark
genre .. warnings ↠ smut, unprotected sex, degradation, slapping, impact play, cheating
summary ↠ mark is too gentle for you in bed and when you share this problem with a mutual friend, jeno, he's more than willing to help you get off.
wc ↠ 4.2k
a/n ↠ this part one of a repost! i love this fic and it would be a sin to not share it with the world again. also i kinda love this banner… mark’s looking off to the side; jeno looks straight into the camera. it’s perfect
don’t like it, don’t read.
no matter how much you knew you loved mark, you couldn’t shake the itch you had. 
an itch that needed scratching. which he was not very good at doing.
mark kissed his way down your belly, trailing a gentle column of pecks to your thighs. you resisted a frown that desperately wanted to cling to your lips. for the past couple of weeks, your boyfriend had been attempting to initiate sex with you, but every time up until now, you had turned him down.
it wasn’t that you weren’t sexually attracted to mark or anything like that. first of all, you dumbfounded by how fine your boyfriend was. unbeknownst to him, every now and then, you would touch yourself to thoughts of him and mental images of his handsome little face.
the problem was that those fantasies tended to get you off harder than he did.
“you’re so pretty,” mark murmured, running a hand through your folds. you were wet - because your body couldn’t deny wanting him, much less when he put his hands on you - though not nearly as wet as you could have been.
mark didn’t need to know that. in fact, the only reason you had agreed to letting him fuck you now was because you didn’t want him to assume that you were cheating and had found more than adequate loving elsewhere (not that you had just yet). and maybe you were also a little sexually frustrated and you knew this was the closest to release you would get without actually seeking out another partner. mark was the love of your life and you never wanted to break his heart like that, so half the time you sucked it up and closed your eyes.
the sex was good. you would never deny that. but good wasn’t good enough.
mark dipped his head between your thighs, now starting to lap at your cunt which guaranteed a mind-blowing orgasm, and you let him have his way with you for a while.
one time, you told mark that you and a group of friends were competitively abstaining from having sex and foreplay was the sole thing that wasn’t strictly forbidden. for insurance, you convinced rosé and her boyfriend jaehyun to vouch for you. you and mark spent the week blowing each other and to this day nothing mark did got you off as hard as it did when he ate you out.
but after a while, you tugged mark’s hair, purring, “fuck me.”
mark pulled back, a little baffled. he liked eating you out. he noticed that it made you cum harder. “i haven’t prepared you yet. i don’t wanna hurt you.”
that’s the problem, you thought, miffed. “it’s okay. i can take it, baby.”
“are you sure?” mark’s brows were furrowed. it was cute. you also liked the way his brows furrowed when he was balls deep inside you.
“mm-hm. fuck me, please.”
mark reluctantly obeyed, because the last thing he wanted was to cause you any pain, but you kept insisting it would be fine. he was the type to always put your pleasure before his own, even if it meant ignoring how hard his dick throbbed and how desperately he needed to fuck you, because he loved you and you were his world. it was appreciated on your end, that was no doubt, but a bit of a nuisance.
with mark hovering above you now, you gripped his shoulders, biting your lip when he at last penetrated you. mark was slow and steady, at least when he first started fucking you, taking his sweet time to push every inch inside you. tears stung your eyes. there was a slight burn to his every thrust, and his steady pace prolonged the pain, but you were in love with it. plus your boyfriend leaned a little towards the girthy side. 
mark noticed your tears instantly and ground to a halt. “does it hurt?”
“no,” you lied, because you didn’t need him to worry his pretty little ass off. “feels good, markie. keep going.”
you gave a kiss of reassurance to his neck and that was all mark needed to pick back up where he left off, pushing in deeper with every thrust until he was completely swallowed by you. the whole time, mark was still kissing you, as if he was trying to take your mind off it. you wished he wasn’t afraid to be a little bit rougher with you. come to think of it, there wasn’t a single time where mark had ever hurt you on purpose - not even a smack to your ass or slap to your thigh. 
it made you feel guilty knowing your boyfriend was only being the caring gentleman that you had fallen for, but you couldn’t help what turned you on. you liked when he underestimated his strength, handling you a little bit harder than intended, or when he came and absent-mindedly gripped your hips like a vice, knuckles white and his hold tight enough to bruise. mark would apologize over and over, insisting he didn’t intend to, but you never complained. you liked to see the little bruises in the mirror or catch glimpses of them throughout the day.
at one point, mark picked up his pace, slapping his hips into yours with a rhythm. “harder,” you told him, wanting him to break you. “i can take it.”
mark did as told, though not without gently kissing your lips and telling you how beautiful you were. to mark, it was always a sight to see you like this. he was so proud to call you his. he was in love with how you sucked him in, how tight you were, but most importantly, he was in love with you and hoped his body would convey that during sex.
you moaned at how deep he was, closing your eyes and tuning him out. what would it take for him to break you - to fuck you like he hated you?
“almost there, baby,” mark groaned a little later, bringing his hands to your clit because he knew your body intimately and that was his saving grace.
“cum inside,” you whimpered, imagining him making threats of getting you pregnant. you could hear his voice in your head. that, combined with the drive of hips into yours, was the force pushing you towards the end.
mark kept pounding you out, becoming less and less steady. it was a telltale sign of him being close to release. your pleas for him to come inside you only made it worse, because the thought was at the front of his mind and he desperately needed to fill you to your utter capacity.
you needed him to cum inside you so badly. mark was groaning and grunting, unraveling before your eyes. at last he emptied his load into you, hips still rocking into yours until he reached the last of his high. you moaned at the feeling of him filling you to the brim, his fingers digging into your hips harshly.
mark, now returning to earth, glanced at you and frowned. “you didn’t cum.”
“i did.”
“don’t lie to me. that’s the worst thing you can do.”
you frowned. 
mark crept closer, running a finger over your cheek. he wanted absolute eye contact. “what am i doing wrong?”
“it’s not you, baby. i promise,” you sighed, running your fingers through his hair. “it’s me. i liked it. i’m just a little hard to please.”
mark retorted sharply, “and what does it mean if i can’t please you?”
“you do a very good job at pleasing me, mark. i told you, it feels good when you’re in me. don’t overthink it,” you told him sweetly. in all honesty, it wasn’t far from the truth. mark hit you in all the right places. there was just something missing.
mark leaned into your neck and murmured, “are you sure?”
“yes. so don’t worry your pretty little head.”
“okay,” mark huffed and moved his head to your chest.
two weeks later, you found yourself at jeno’s place. he was a mutual friend of you and mark and somebody you were both very close with. you had come over to drop off a plate of strawberry tiramisu per mark’s request but, as to be expected, got tangled in conversation.
jeno, curious as ever, asked, “speaking of mark, what’s going on with you and my boy?” 
you furrowed your brows. “what do you mean?” 
“he’s in one of those ‘my-girl-hates-me’ moods again. i thought you guys had gotten into an argument or something, but he won’t tell me, and since he’s so down in his spirits i just left it alone,” jeno said with a shrug.
you bit your lip. you had two options. you could either keep what happens with you and mark between you and mark, or you could open up a little. jeno was a trustworthy guy and friend, and thus you were more inclined to be honest with him. “we’ve hit a wall lately,” you said vaguely.
“as in?”
“as in the sex is very… how do i put this… we’re not having sex very often,” you explained, clearing your throat. 
that clearly got jeno’s attention. “don’t tell me mark’s game is declining.”
“no, it’s not mark. the sex is good. it’s just...,” you chewed over your words, unsure of how to put it in a way that could rationalize how you felt. without coming off completely insane. “he’s too gentle,” you whispered. 
to your surprise, jeno didn’t look at you like you had fifty heads. he actually seemed amused. jeno cocked his head, a smiling tugging at his lips, and asked, “and you like it rough?”
you nodded. to say the least. 
“have you communicated that with him?”
“i mean, no. but i have my reasons. how am i supposed to go up to him and tell him the reason i’m not cumming is because he’s not fucking me within an inch of my life?”
jeno chuckled. “my boy is a softie when in love,” he said.
exasperated, you leaned your head against jeno’s shoulder and groaned, “exactly. and i feel like an idiot for complaining about that of all things. he’s literally doing everything right. even if i did tell him, i seriously don’t even think he’s capable of hurting me on purpose.”
“i mean, how rough do you like it?” jeno’s question didn’t strike you as anything but an attempt to be helpful. “do you like getting spanked?”
“yes,” you said frankly.
“slapped?”
“yes.”
“hair pulling?”
“that’s the least extreme think i like.”
“flogging?”
“okay, now you’re crossing a line,” you said. that was a bit too extreme.
jeno threw up his hands. “hey, you’re the freak, not me.”
you frowned. you were thinking about mark again. he was the perfect boyfriend. maybe you should’ve let him go so he could find somebody that could appreciate him and all his efforts to show his girlfriend love, but you were too selfish for that. you threw jeno a glance. “do you think i’m crazy?”
jeno shook his head. “no, i think there’s a line between pain and pleasure. for some of us it’s thinner than it is for others. for some of us it’s larger,” he said, a little more sober than you expected.
which made you think. it wasn’t very often that you ranted about your life problems to jeno, though whenever you did, he always proved himself to be a good listener and good at giving you sound advice (no matter how inconsequential your problems might’ve seemed).
then, your attention flitted elsewhere, eyes at his bulging biceps. you were too in your head to really notice that he had his arm around you, and mark surely didn’t send you over here to snuggle with his best friend. you didn’t fail to notice that jeno was muscular because you weren’t blind and he made no attempt to hide it, the opposite rather, always proudly flaunting his physique. but this was the first time you were having thoughts that you probably shouldn’t.
you called, “jeno?”
“hm?”
“do you think mark would encourage me to seek out somebody else if he couldn’t fulfill my needs, or would he want to work through it?”
now that was the million dollar question. on the one hand, your question was not lost on jeno and he saw dead through you. you had been less than discreetly checking him out. but on the other, you were mark’s girl and it was the proper thing to do to give you an honest response. “both,” jeno told you, honest as could be. “because he wants you to be happy more than anything, but i know the second he let a pretty little thing like you go, he would lose his mind.”
your cheeks got warm. jeno just called me pretty, you thought. then, you instantly chided yourself. mark called you pretty too. and you liked it. the only reason you were getting excited because of jeno doing it was because there was a chance he could be the one to satisfy those cravings lurking inside you.
jeno cocked his head. “do you want me to help you?”
“help me how?”
“with that problem of yours,” he said, amused that you were playing dumb. as if you weren’t giving him those eyes only a moment ago. “girls always tell me i’m the right amount of rough.”
you gawked. “are you offering to have sex with me?”
jeno shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant. to be honest, he had wanted you for a while now, but again, you were mark’s girl. “somebody’s gotta do it. i wouldn’t mind.”
you hated that you were actually considering it. your thighs tingled with excitement, wanting it more than anything. but your boyfriend never once left your mind. “what about mark?”
“he’ll be glad it’s just me instead of somebody else,” jeno said confidently.
“you say that like mark himself told you that.”
jeno shrugged again. “it’s a yes or a no, princess.”
you mulled it over. this was a very, very stupid idea. and an egregious mistake in the making. but when you were thinking with your pussy instead of your head, all rational thoughts were completely off the table.
“yes,” you said, your better judgement clouded.
jeno smirked, satisfied with your answer. and lifted you into his burly arms, ignoring how you cried out in surprise while he carried you to his bedroom. you had no time to recover before he threw you against his mattress, wasting no time to climb on top of you and pull at your clothes with a vengeance. and you let him, because you were inclined to let jeno do whatever he wanted to you right now.
forget the consequences. you would worry about that part later.
you heard fabric tear and gawked in surprise when you realized jeno had torn your underwear off, sitting up to look at him, only to be roughly forced down your back again. he leaned directly over you, searching your face with fire smoldering in his sharp eyes. “i’m not mark. you’re not going to have your way with me. you’re going to lie down and take what i give you,” he hissed, voice low but clear as ever.
all you could do was nod. the words were sucked out of you. your throat had gone dry. and your muscles were painfully stiff. for now.
satisfied, jeno crept back down your body, positioning himself between your thighs. he ran his fingers over your folds and chuckled. you were already so wet from nothing at all. he didn’t intend to prep you very much, but pushed his fingers in and out of your pussy merely to feel how tight it wrapped around them. you impatiently whimpered out his name, clearly needy, and earned yourself a solid slap to the cunt.
you immediately squeezed your thighs back together, letting out another, more agonized noise, but jeno yanked them back apart just as quickly and your strength was no match for his, keeping your legs spread even as he smacked you a second time.
“jeno,” you whimpered again, tears bundling together in your lashes. you had chosen a godawful day to wear mascara.
jeno was completely unfazed, opening his bedside drawer to rummage around for a condom and held it up, cocking his brow at you. “condom or no condom?”
“are you clean?”
“yep,” said jeno. “i got tested a couple of weeks ago.”
“then, please fuck me raw,” you begged, throbbing at the thought. even when mark came inside you, you almost found it better than the sex itself.
jeno tossed the condom to the side with a chuckle and stepped out of his boxers, which made your jaw slacken. you had seen the imprint of his dick only moments prior and had tried your best to pretend like it didn’t bother you, but the sight of his hard cock standing tall against his stomach was enough to make you cry. jeno cocked his brow at you again, snickering to himself, and lined himself up at your entrance.
the wind was knocked out of you. good god he’s packing.
you sucked in a breath when jeno forced his way inside you, tears rolling down your cheeks at how much he stretched you out. you couldn’t even take all of it at once, but jeno would make you, ignoring the whimpers you cried as he stuffed you to the hilt. his brows scrunched together, fingers clawing into your hips to anchor himself with how deep he was inside you, and you swallowed every deliciously guttural sound that left his lips.
then, jeno had a brief lull of indecision, and pulled back out to roughly flip you over, just to penetrate you again just as quickly once you scrambled on your hands and knees. “fuck,” you whined, filling once more a surreal fusion of pain and pleasure.
jeno had told you there was a thin line between pain and pleasure. and as far as you were concerned, he had never been more right.
jeno, hands at your hips, asked huskily, “does it hurt?”
you bobbed your head, unable to stop the flow of tears. but i love it, you added in your head.
jeno was satisfied. “good,” he replied smugly.
never had you felt so full. you could feel him in the pit of your stomach and it was driving you mad. jeno had no intention of letting you adjust to his size either, already brutally smacking his hips against yours with a vengeance.
you let out a noise when jeno gripped your jaw, abruptly lifting up your tear-stained face. “look at yourself,” he growled, forcing you to look into the mirror across from his bed. no wonder he made you change positions. “shame you ruined all that pretty makeup with those tears.”
you looked a damn mess and it didn’t help that you had jeno rutting into you from behind, making you lose any and all sense of order you still had. jeno loved how helpless you looked. all you could do was lie there and take it, and you could barely even do that. when you tried to look away, he forced your face back where he wanted it, chin between his fingers, and said darkly, “i don’t like to repeat myself. look at yourself. i want you to watch yourself get fucked by your boyfriend’s friend because you can’t get off to being fucked normally.”
that made your walls clamp around him, and consequently a deep howl escaped jeno. it was criminal how sexy he sounded, and the more you pleasured him, the rougher his hands got on your body. you could already feel the bruises at your hips that would probably take weeks to completely fade.
a certain sharp thrust made you whimper and hang your head, singing out his name. jeno slapped your cheek and the sting went straight to your cunt, making you clench around him. you brought your head back to the mirror, remembering you were supposed to be watching yourself, though you were tempted to glance off just so that he would hit you again.
jeno shook his head when he felt you clench around him, chuckling to himself. he smacked his palm against your face again for amusement, just to see you soak in the pain. “you’re so pathetic, you know that?” he asked, followed by a laugh. “need to get roughed up to get off?”
you whined, “please…”
“please what?” jeno asked, in spite of knowing damn well what you wanted. but he wanted to hear you say it. he wanted you to hear how pathetic you sounded.
you bit your lip. was he really going to make you say it? “please hit me,” you whispered.
jeno hummed, furrowing his brows in mock confusion. “kiss you?”
you shook your head and cried, “jeno, please hit me again.”
satisfied, jeno gripped your jaw in his fingers to keep it in place as he forced you to look in the mirror, then slapped your cheeks a couple of times. “is that hard enough for you, baby?” 
“harder,” you whimpered. 
jeno laughed. 
jeno kept hitting you and throwing you around, whispering the cruelest of words in your ear and telling you how disgusting you were for liking getting roughed up. it should have humiliated you, but it also brought you closer to climax in record time.
jeno wasn’t far behind you, because you kept tightening around him every every degrading word and violent touch, and it drove him mad with lust. not a single part of him was worried about mark right now, and from the looks of it, you had forgotten about your boyfriend too, completely absorbed in how jeno was hitting you in all the right places. literally.
face to face with climax, jeno gripped your hair, pulling it back. you whined, but jeno merely nibbled at your ear before saying, “i’m gonna cum in this tight little pussy and you’re gonna take every drop.”
“yes, please,” you replied, not opposed at all. “fill me up, jeno. please.”
“fuck,” jeno groaned, slapping his hips into yours even harsher. you were so fucking perfect that he was tempted to steal you from mark and make you his bitch. and he might have already done that without even trying.
with a couple more hits, you were unraveling around jeno and it triggered his own orgasm. he came inside you with a grunt and leaned over you to clamp his teeth into your shoulder, trying to smother his own sounds. you, on the other hand, couldn’t control the noises that left you, moaning and shaking harder than ever as your climax got the best of you.
jeno pulled out, sated, and watched you crumble on his sheets, chest heaving. “good?” he asked. 
you nodded, still trying to catch your breath. and clear your mind. “yeah,” you croaked, blinking. “thank you.”
jeno snickered. “any time. i can tell you needed it.”
damn right, you thought.
you cleaned yourself up and as if nothing had happened, jeno thanked you for the tiramisu before you headed home to mark. before you got in the car, you grabbed your phone to let him know you were on the way back, and were thrown for a loop when you saw what time it was, plus the missed texts you had from your boyfriend. you had completely loss track of time.
when you stepped inside the house, mark was in the living room watching the amazing spider-man 2, and immediately turned around when he heard the door unlocking. “babe,” he said, leaping up to hug you. “i missed you.”
“i wasn’t gone that long,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around your boy. he felt safe. “but i missed you too.”
mark never wanted to let you go, and he didn’t, but there was a little frown on his face when he murmured into your neck, “you smell like jeno.”
you swallowed. “well, i was at jeno’s house. where jeno lives.”
“you were there for a while.”
“yeah, well,” you started, guilt suddenly blindsiding you. “you know how jeno is. can never say hi and bye and be done. he always has to start a conversation.”
“sounds like him,” mark said, nodding. “did he at least like the tiramisu?” 
“of course he did. he’s jeno.”
mark chuckled. “wanna watch gwen stacy die for the billionth time with me?”
you frowned. “only if we watch andrew save tom’s mj right after,” you replied. 
“deal.”
the two of you ran to the couch, and you pushed your guilt to the back of your heart as you snuggled in your boyfriend’s arms, trying desperately to forget what you just did to him.
“babe, i’m gonna go make us some popcorn,” mark said, slowly backing away from you. 
you sent him off with a nod, smiling and flitting your gaze back to the television screen. 
in the kitchen, mark opened the pantry and slid his phone from his pockets to open his text messages. how’d it go?
how do you think? 
mark rolled his eyes. she’s glowing. what did you do? 
it’s not that hard, mark. all you gotta do is slap her around a little. 
mark poked out his head, watching you with your eyes fixated to the screen. i’ll keep that in mind, he replied back. 
there was no reply and mark’s phone didn’t buzz until the microwave beeped. still on for friday?
you bet. 
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smutstationchoochoo · 4 months
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Countdown
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John Price x Fem Reader
Ringing in the New Year with John Price
Word count: ~2k
A/N: Hi everyone! ☺️ It's been a while since I wrote so please excuse any spelling or grammar mistakes as I’m sure there are many. I got off of work this evening and this popped into my head as I listened to fireworks so I whipped this up real fast for you (probably too fast, not stellar writing lies ahead). It’s basically just smut, a little fluff, but mostly smut. I hope you enjoy it, even though it's basically just some overwritten notes on how I think the Captain likes to have control with a nice New Year's theme to ring in your 2024. Thank you for all the support, and wishing all of you the best in this New Year!🥳✨
Warnings: not previously discussed edging, eating out, PIV, mild crying, brief mention of squirting
Banner credit: @cafekitsune
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John Price took great pride in his control.
He had worked on it for years, keeping himself in check, reacting to every situation with a fine-tuned calmness and clarity that informed how he would react. It had saved his life more than once.
He also took great pride in watching you lose control, as he dismantled it piece by piece, moan by moan, as you became a shaking mess beneath his hands, his gaze, and his words.
“That’s it, love,” he huffed into your ear with a grin you could practically hear, his large fingers continuing to pump in and out of you, causing you to ache around him while his thumb drew languid circles around your clit, “That’s it, you’re doing so good, just a bit longer, can you do that for me? Can you be a good girl now?”
You could only choke out a sob, clenching around his fingers, arms straining against the grip he had your hands in above your head, his body caging you in. When all this had started two hours earlier, you had no clue where it was leading.
You had both agreed to stay in this New Year's Eve, just celebrating between yourselves with a glass or two of champagne and what you thought would be sex and a nice early bedtime. Price had other plans for you, which you had begun to realize as you straddled his lap, completely naked, while he remained fully clothed.
He had been planting kisses along your neck, his rough hands coming to squeeze your breasts, rolling your nipples between his skilled fingers. It had all been moving so slowly, but there you were panting on top of him, struggling to maintain steady breaths. When he gave the soft skin of your shoulder a small bite, you ground down onto the hard bulge in his pants, hoping to make him move faster and seek relief from the pressure that had been building between your legs. He kissed the forming teeth marks, his hands finding your hips and you watched him pull away and look at you, head cocked and mouth in a soft grin beneath flushed cheeks.
You knew you were fucked then.
His hands pulled your hips down even harder, your clit now fully grinding against his length, and he guided you in a slow rhythm of dragging you down against him. You gasped into his mouth, hands clawing at his shoulders, gripping at the nape of his neck, and he smiled against you even shifting his hips in his seat so that he could pull you down even further.
“John,” you had groaned into his mouth, “I’m so close just- fuck- fuck me, I need you to-,”
“Shhh shhh,” a large hand had snaked up to your throat, your vision blurring simply at the feeling of the weight of it there as he barely held you, “I know what you need, just let me take my time, yeah? Let me enjoy this…”
You stared at him, only able to nod and his hand gave a small squeeze on your neck before it found its former place on your hip.
He made you stay there, grinding down on him until you were gasping out his name, a sure sign of your impending orgasm. Just as you felt yourself push over the edge, John’s hands held your hips still, making you shake above him and cry out against his mouth as the promise of pleasure faded to a hum. That grin was back in place and even a soft laugh rumbled up through his chest.
“I said I was going to take my time, love, so let me take it.”
You could have ripped his throat out with how desperate you were but before you knew it, you were in the bedroom, thrown on the mattress with your hips pinned beneath one of his arms as his burning tongue began to drag against you. You tried to raise your hips to his mouth, but his arm held you fast so that all you could do was lay there, panting beneath him as he ate you out like something to be savored. You didn’t know how much time passed, all you knew was that every time he felt you getting close he would pull away, leaving your dripping cunt to clench around nothing as he watched, enraptured.
“P-please John!”
You had begun to plead, tears beginning to leak from your eyes when he pulled away for a fifth time. You felt the rough hair along his jaw scraping against the inside of your thigh as he alternated between kisses and bites. He loved getting you like this. Loved to watch you begin to shake between each moan, the sobs that burst from your throat when he pulled away, how you struggled to push up into him, how you begged him.
He crawled up over you, lips finding yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth so that you could taste yourself on him. He slotted his knees between your legs, keeping them open and letting the cool air hit you in a way that had you shivering beneath him.
“Mmmm you’re doing so good, just a little longer, yeah? Can you do that for me? Hmm?”
You whined, and he captured the sound with his tongue, almost loving the taste of it as much as he loved the taste of you dripping down his chin.
It was then that his hands pinned your own above your head, and he slipped two fingers inside of you. His thumb easily found your swollen clit, and you keened beneath him, back arching and mouth drawn in a silent cry, held under him as he pulled that band so tight within you that you thought you may snap in half.
And he talked you through all of it.
“Fuck, love, should see the sight of you. Are you getting close? I can feel you squeezing my fingers, shhh no come on, let’s see how close we can get you then-”
“You’re being so good for me, what a sweet, good girl, that’s it just grind down on my hand, you were so close that time-”
“Shhh its ok, we’re almost there, fuckin hell love just a little bit further-”
You tried to focus on his voice as something white-hot began to burn inside of you, your vision cloudy with fresh tears, your voice shaking as you tried to beg.
Then you saw him check his phone. Just a quick glance, mere seconds, but you finally fully understood this game.
“Ohh you fucking bastard,” you moaned, “You fuck-f-fuck please John, just, I-I can’t anymore- please!-,”
An amused and heavy laugh left his chest, and you watched as he finally removed his clothes, your eyes catching on the hair across his chest, then nearly choking as you felt the thickness of him press against your hip.
“Took you long enough, love,” he huffed in amusement, as he took himself in his hand.
You looked down between you two and watched as he began to stroke the red, angry length of himself, and then up at him. His eyes locked on yours, an amused brow and an even cheekier grin as his mouth opened to release soft pants that he pulled from himself with each stroke.
“You want this?” he asked, and somewhere in the back of your mind you reminded yourself to strangle him but all that came out was your own strangled agreement.
He reached into the nightstand and swiftly opened the condom package before rolling it down his length with an accompanying roll of his broad shoulders.
Your eyes flashed back down between the two of you, watching as he stoked himself a few more times before pressing the tip against you. Your jaw fell open as he slowly impaled you on his length, the width of him stretching your walls with a sweet burn, that had more sharp gasps clawing their way up your throat until his hips were flush with yours. His hand found your chin, tugging it up to look at him again.
Small glistening beads of sweat had formed at his crown of mussed brown hair as he held himself still within you, allowing you to get used to his thickness. His gaze was hard and focused as he licked his lips, nostrils flaring with a deep shuddering breath as you clenched around him. He smiled and slowly pulled out, before just as slowly rolling his hips back into you. Your arms clutching at his, your legs now wrapped around his waist urging him to go faster.
“I’m going to countdown from 10,” he said as he snapped back with a particularly sharp thrust that made stars burst behind your eyes, “and then you can cum.”
He didn’t even give you a chance to respond, instead, he brought himself up to a kneel so that he could fully look down on you as you came undone.
“Ten,” he grunted with another thrust, his hands gripping at your thighs, this time deep enough to reach something devastating that had you slamming your eyes shut.
“Nine,” he hung his head, to watch himself as he disappeared within you, “Good girl.”
“Eight,” he said, as your breath caught in your throat with a choked whine when his thumb found your clit again.
“Seven,” Price’s own breathing was beginning to quicken, his voice catching on something low and raw and wicked.
“Six,” he swallowed hard, his eyes clenching shut now, a tick in his jaw, unable to see the furrow of your brow as you struggled to last, you fought to wait, but it was huge, it was closing in all around you, it was burning you up as he ground himself in and out of you-
“Five- fuck,” Price’s hips picked up to a brutal pace as he felt you beginning to clamp down around him with molten heat as you felt a sort of unfamiliar pressure surge within you just behind the pleasure.
“Four,” he said in reassurance as you began to claw at the sheets.
“J-John, I-,” you tried to warn him.
“Three, c’mon love, so close,” he huffed out into the air.
But it was too late.
Your vision went white as your back arched so hard off the bed that Price reached his arms around you to hold you steady and you shook beneath him, your long overdue orgasm tearing through you with such speed that you could only sob out his name over and over, grinding yourself down with each pulse and wave onto the length of him. Faintly in the back of your mind, you registered a wetness between your legs.
“Oh fuckin’ hell, f-fuck did you just-,” John’s hips ground within you, once, twice more before he was holding your hips down against him as he came inside of you with a loud groan.
You both stayed there for a few moments after, panting as he softened within you and the sweat across your bodies began to prickle with a chill. His hands rubbed soft circles over your thighs before he leaned down. His open mouth nearly meeting yours.
“Couldn’t wait could you?” he grinned as your lips sought his.
“You made me wait long enough,” you countered, and he gave a soft chuckle finally allowing you to capture his mouth in yours.
He took the moment to slip himself from your warmth, causing you to give a soft shuddering sigh.
“Happy New Year, love,” he whispered into your waiting mouth, before kissing you once again.
You hummed back, sleep beginning to wash over you but Price gave your hip a soft tap.
“C’mon,” he said, “let's get you in a shower. I’ve got to change these sheets, they’re soaked.”
John Price looked down at you and at the wet sheets feeling a swell of pride wash over him. Pride at what his control could give him, pride that you trusted him enough on evenings like these to take control, and then that pride melted away and all that was left was the aching love he had for you and how if you asked, he knew he would give you control.
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you all have a wonderful New Year! 🥰✨
475 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 8 months
Text
Always Ever Only You Part 11 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley gets a few second chances in the midst of a deployment he would rather not have to complete. He just wants to be home with you, trying to fix what is broken. But he doesn't know how much you've been struggling.
Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff
Length: 5100 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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Bradley felt devastation. Were you really going to make him wait the full eight weeks before you would talk to him? He couldn't do it. He had too much to say, and he needed to see your face.
"Fuck." He entered your phone number and tried again. And again. But as he was about to enter it for the fourth time, he grasped the iPad and forced himself to stand. 
"No answer?" the officer asked when Bradley handed it back to him. His response was somewhere between a nod and a shrug, and he felt like crying. "Want me to add you back onto the list?"
"Please," Bradley rasped, swallowing hard. It was still dinnertime. He could go back and get something to eat. But he'd lost his appetite, and even though he didn't mind bunking with Bob, having a few minutes alone in the room sounded like his best bet. 
It felt like his feet weighed a ton as he walked along all three corridors and down a flight of stairs before he was at his bunk door. And then he collapsed onto his bed without even removing his boots. You always picked up. You always answered his calls. You even answered after Josh attacked you. 
Bradley thought he was going to be sick. And then Bob unlocked the door and let himself inside. "Hey, Bob," he grunted, rubbing his temples with his fingers. 
"Oh. You seem annoyed that I'm here," he replied, closing the door very slowly. "Do you want to kick me out again so you can have the bunk to yourself?"
Bradley turned and looked at him, thoroughly confused. "Again?"
Bob blushed a little bit as he kept his hand on the doorknob. "Uh, yeah. Last time we bunked together? A few years ago? You kicked me out of the room in the middle of the night."
Bradley sat up on his bed. "I did?"
"Yeah," Bob said softly. "You came back annoyed with me. You asked me to leave. You had a woman with you."
Bradley felt even sicker now. He could vaguely remember what Bob was talking about. A deployment before he met you. It had been late. He wanted to hook up. And Bob had been his roommate at the time. 
"I can't believe I did that," Bradley whispered, getting to his feet and taking Bob by both shoulders, leading him away from the door. "That's never going to happen again." He gave him a quick hug. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to leave the bunk, okay? And I'm not going to hook up with anyone, unless my wife miraculously appears here and decides she still loves me."
Bob nodded. "She still loves you."
"I know she does," Bradley replied as he sank back down onto his bed. This time he removed his boots and tossed them next to the door. "I just need to do a lot better. I just want to have a happy wife."
"Yeah," Bob agreed, also untying his boots. "She makes you a lot better. You don't kick people out of their rooms anymore, and you always remember everyone's birthday."
Bradley groaned and nodded. "That's because she remembers everyone's birthday, and she reminds me."
Bob smiled and nodded as he pulled out some notebooks and a pen. "You were still annoyed though. When I came in just now. You can tell me why if you want to."
Bradley sat up and faced Bob across the few feet of space between their beds. "She didn't answer when I tried to call her. This is a first."
"Hmm," Bob hummed thoughtfully without saying anything else.
"Yeah," Bradley added. "There's a lot I want to tell her. Shit she deserves to hear. I'm afraid I'm going to forget or completely fuck it up by the time I get to talk to her."
Bob tried to hand him a notebook and his pen. "Write it down."
"Write what down?" Bradley asked, cautiously taking the offered items and flipping through the notebook which was empty.
"Write down all the things you want to say. I started journaling a few years ago to help organize my thoughts and manage my anxiety. I think it's helped me in a lot of ways, including making me a better, calmer aviator. But you could write notes to or about your wife. See what works."
And then Bob started writing in the other notebook, leaving Bradley to his own thoughts. He opened up to that first, pristine page and placed the pen to it.
Dear Baby Girl
----------------------------
You felt great after Sunday brunch with Cam and Maria. As soon as you got there, you said, "We've been trying to get pregnant. I'm not pregnant. Let's have mimosas and not talk about Bradley." And they listened. And it was wonderful. And it's not that you didn't want to talk about him or think about him, it was that you really needed a break. Because he was the only thing you were thinking about. 
On Monday, as soon as you got to work, it felt like you were leaving again for your doctor's appointment. You didn't even want to go. You didn't want to get on the scale. Ever since you overdid it on your honeymoon months ago, you'd been afraid to weigh yourself, because you knew this could be adding to your issues. 
When the nurse took your blood pressure and then told you to get onto the scale, you couldn't even look at the readout. You'd bring it up to the doctor in private, away from everyone else in the hallway. 
And then you were led back to an exam room and left to squirm around on the paper covered table in the rough hospital gown while you stared at your uniform folded neatly on the chair by the door. Your name tag was boldly reminding you that you'd tacked Bradshaw onto your last name. When your doctor walked in, she used your full hyphenated name when she greeted you, and you tried to smile. 
You thought about Bradley as you decided to get everything out of the way right from the start. "I want to talk about my weight. And fertility."
But a few minutes later, you were sitting with your mouth hanging slightly open. "You've lost almost fourteen pounds since this time last year. Were you intentionally trying to lose weight?" she asked, eyeing you carefully. 
"N-No. I thought I gained a lot of weight. I've been nervous to check. I'm...trying to get pregnant."
She nodded and started to examine your eyes and ears as she said, "You need to make sure you're taking care of yourself. Eating well. Three meals a day. Healthy snacks. Exercising." Then she looked you in the eye. "Based on your age and general health, I can refer you to a specialist once you've been trying for eight to twelve cycles without success. And your husband can have some tests run then as well."
"Right," you replied with a soft sigh, thinking about Bradley's exceptionally fucking awesome sperm once again. But you cracked a smile. "I'm already five cycles in, so halfway there."
She nodded. "You just give me a call if you need to."
You left the medical building, still adjusting your uniform and wondering how you'd lost so much weight without noticing. But your pants were feeling a little loose now. And so was your shirt. They were snug after your honeymoon. Had you lost fourteen pounds in just a few months?
When you reached your car, you closed your eyes and swallowed past the lump in your throat. You were not taking very good care of yourself. You could barely remember the last time you had lunch at work or ate something other than a protein bar for breakfast. Memories of lavish weekend breakfasts with Bradley filled your mind. You'd be perched on his lap, sharing one plate full of eggs, bacon, potato pancakes and grilled vegetables. When was the last time you did that? Spent an hour eating breakfast together with the occasional brush of Bradley's mustache along your neck? 
You had to wipe your tears away as you unlocked your door and climbed inside. You started the engine as you pulled your phone out of your bag. 
"No!" 
Missed FaceTime call from RESTRICTED
"Fuck!" Your fingers were shaking as you tried to enter your passcode. Then you tried to call back. Not Connected. Not Connected. Not Connected. 
You sat in your car and cried. You missed a call from Bradley. It must have been him. You missed it by seven minutes. And now it could be weeks before you got another opportunity to talk to him. 
Panic rose in your chest. He probably thought you ignored him. "Roo," you sobbed, resting your forehead on your steering wheel. You missed him so much, you felt sick most of the time. You were counting down the days to the start of your period, and you could remember how he used to plug your heating pad in for you and bring you Tylenol. He used to rub your back and share a bottle of wine. You missed him, and you wanted him back home, doing all the silly little things he used to do. You knew how good things could be. 
"I'm sorry," you whispered as you looked at the missed call notification one more time. Then you turned your volume up to full blast. You'd take your phone everywhere from now on. You drove back to work with a sinking feeling in your chest. What if he didn't even bother trying to call you back again?
That thought stayed with you all day, and you had to force yourself to grab something to eat on your way back up to your office. You choked down a sandwich that tasted disgusting as you sat there alone. 
You felt even worse the next day since you were barely able to sleep. And you knew you needed to eat something, but you couldn't even stomach any coffee. You headed right to work after you let Tramp out, and you didn't even make it to your lab before you ran into your boss. 
"Meet me in my office, Lieutenant Commander," Captain Bickel told you. "I need you to look over some paperwork that came in from Annapolis on the overlapping project."
"Right now, sir?" you asked softly. Your body was practically trembling with anxiety. 
"Yes," he replied, and your heart sank. You followed him down the hallway, each step harder to physically complete than the last. When you sank down into the chair across from his desk, he handed you a folder. Your hand visibly shook as you took it from him, and you were almost too nauseous to feel embarrassed. Almost. 
Heat and sweat broke out on your neck, and the cool air gave you goosebumps. You could feel every little hair on your body stand up on end as you listened to your boss talking, but nothing was processing in your mind. That missed call had you in almost constant hysterics, and you didn't know who to talk to about it. Nobody would understand how much of a fucking big deal this was to you. You promised Bradley you'd always answer his calls. You promised him. 
"Is that right?" Bickel asked you, his voice sounding muffled to your ears. "Lieutenant Commander? Is that right?"
You looked down at the unopened folder in your lap, and tears started to stream down your cheeks. It didn't even feel like you were crying. But you must be? It didn't make sense at all, but when you opened your mouth, you heard a choked sob as you tried to meet his eyes.
He was around the desk, kneeling in front of your chair immediately. "Hey," he kept saying over and over again, and you wanted to tell him to stop, but you just kept crying. There was soft pressure on the back of your hand where his palm was resting. You were still trying to meet his eyes, and when you finally did, he used your first name. "Are you okay?"
You sucked in so much air that it hurt your insides. Everything was uncomfortable and too quiet, and you could barely speak, but you managed to say, "I don't know."
So he just sat there with you as you gulped in more air that hurt while your head throbbed. It probably took you a long time until the weight of your body in the chair felt normal again, and you realized you were sitting in your own sweat. You were hungry and gross and you missed your husband. When your boss asked, "What can I do for you?" the only thing you could do right away was shrug. 
But a few beats later, you managed to whisper, "Do you remember when Josh was here, and you asked me if I wanted to talk to someone?"
His face looked even more alarmed now, but you didn't have the energy to explain anything to him. "Yes," he replied, and he stood and reached for his phone. You clutched at Bradley's wedding band through the fabric of your shirt.
-----------------------------
"The better plan for a more efficient flight path would be to take out the communications tower first and then strike their base," Admiral Dean informed the group of aviators for about the hundredth time. Bradley could have drawn the terrain maps from memory by now. He also couldn't help but think that the admirals were making sure that Slayer, Charmer and the other children were keeping up with the plans. "But we'll decide on the day of the mission which tactical option is better. Any questions?"
"Sir, what does the terrain look like again?" Charmer asked politely.
"Very good question," Dean replied, and Bradley gritted his teeth. It was a fucking idiotic question, and the rest of the room know it. He could practically feel the rage rolling off of Phoenix. If anyone from Top Gun had asked that question, the admiral would have snapped. Plus, Charmer and Slayer had taken to referring to Nat as Honey, which almost sent Bradley through the roof every single time. 
When everyone was dismissed for lunch, he was the first one out of the room, taking out his phone and opening it up to the notes app. Writing in the notebook from Bob every night had actually been more helpful than he expected, and occasionally he added a note to his phone so he would remember to write it down that night. He wasn't writing love letters exactly. They were more like little notes in which he was trying to describe how he felt about you. Trying to put into sentences everything he wanted to change, and also the things he wanted to stay the same. 
But the notebook was for him. You didn't need to read it. He'd keep it and look at it when he got home and started trying to put his marriage back on track. 
"Hey, Honey, you think you should be eating a sandwich instead of making me a sandwich?" Bradley looked up from his phone only to realize he had made it all the way to the dining hall. And Slayer was acting like a complete prick to Nat. She was the only female aviator on this detachment, which usually wouldn't have been an issue, but it was right now. 
Bradley saved the note he had written, and he turned to Slayer and calmly said, "Do you know how to shut your mouth, or do I need to show you?"
Loud booming laughter filled the space between them. "Old man, you couldn't show me how to do jack fucking shit. Except maybe nail your dog of a wife with a limp dick."
Bradley was for a split second reminded of the last time you and he had sex, and he could feel his cheeks start to flush. The thing was, Bradley didn't really mind the attention being on him instead of Nat or Bob, but this is what seemed to make his best friend snap. Nat snatched his phone out of his hand and held up the lock screen, which was actually a photo of you from the honeymoon. In your red bikini. With your tits pressed together and a dirty little smirk on your face. Bradley snapped it about a minute after he finished fucking you on the deck next to the pool.
"Does she look like a dog to you?" Nat asked the guys, and their eyes bugged out. This was bad. "No, she does not. And I'm not your Honey. Stop harassing me. Stop harassing Rooster. And stop harassing Bob."
But Slayer was still laughing. "She's hot, old man. She's definitely fucking around behind your back. Doubt you can keep up. Hell, I'd nail her." 
"Me too," Charming added as Bradley tucked his phone away in his pocket. And now Nat seemed to realize she shouldn't have reacted the way she did. Because Bradley was pissed. These fucking dipshits were really just the cherry on top of an already shitty deployment. 
"Let's get out of here," Nat said, about to reach for his arm. 
"I'm cool," Bradley snarled, even though he felt anything but. "Let's get some food." He picked up a tray and gripped it with white knuckles as he piled it up at random with food he didn't even really want. His mind was unfocused, and now he was thinking about how easy it actually would be for you to cheat on him while he was deployed. But that was a two way street, and he didn't want to open that horrible thought up inside of himself. 
"I'm sorry," Nat whispered as the two of them found a seat while Bob meandered over like he was unfazed by everything. Because he probably was. He had invited Bradley to join him while he meditated each night before bed. At first Bradley thought it seemed silly, but perhaps he was actually onto something. 
"Don't apologize, Nat."
"I shouldn't have taken your phone-"
"It's fine," he said, cutting her off. He was too tired to converse as he bit into his food. But it tasted like shit, so when he heard his name being called, he didn't mind the interruption. "I'm Bradshaw," he told the deckhand who was carrying an envelope. 
"What's that?" Nat asked, leaning over his arm as he opened it and pulled out a handwritten note on thick, creamy paper. 
"Holy shit," Bradley muttered. "It's from the commanding officer."
Her eyes bugged out. "As in the captain of the aircraft carrier?"
"Looks like it," Bradley replied as he read the note.
Lieutenant Commander B. Bradshaw,
You may use my personal communication device this evening at 2300 hours in my study.
Admiral Berry
He wasn't sure what exactly was going on, but given the chance, he would absolutely try to call you again.
---------------------------------
You looked at Dr. Genevieve in her khaki uniform with her hair pulled up into a tight bun. She reminded you of your mom with her placid smile and sharp eyes. You were sitting in a soft, brown leather chair across from her, sipping some lemonade and eating the pretzel sticks Bickel gave you. And you already felt a lot better, although slightly embarrassed. But you were here now. And she was more than willing to talk to you.
"I... should have probably come here a few weeks ago," you said softly before taking one last sip of your drink. 
"Today's a good day to talk," she replied, but she didn't rush you. 
"Yeah," you said, nodding as you ran your palm down the arm of the chair in her office on base. "That's probably true. I'm... struggling? For lack of a better word? I guess?"
"That word is okay to use. But struggling is normal, Lieutenant Commander. It's something we all do."
So you took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly. "I had a panic attack. In front of my boss," you groaned, covering your eyes with your hand. 
She kind of shrugged. "That's a pretty safe place for that kind of thing."
"I guess so," you replied with a little laugh. But then your face fell as you played with a stray thread on your uniform shirt. "I'm afraid I messed up my marriage," you said, barely loud enough for her to hear. But when you met her eyes through your tears, you were certain she heard you. "And I want to fix all of it, but I don't know how."
And with a few words of encouragement from her, you let loose. If you had to guess, you thought you must have gone on for ten minutes without stopping. You told this woman everything, and with each passing sentence, it started to feel easier to keep going. She took a few notes, and asked a few followup questions, but ultimately she let you talk as much as you wanted to. About whatever you wanted to. 
And even though you were exhausted and your uniform was uncomfortable, you felt so much better as you said, "I was getting my physical the other day. And I had so many questions for my doctor, and I've been so focused on trying to get pregnant. Apparently I lost weight. And I know I haven't been eating. And I think I can get better. Used to be a lot better. But when I finally thought to check my phone, I missed a call from Bradley. And I'm so afraid he thinks I didn't want to talk to him," you gasped as your voice cracked. 
As the back of your head came to rest against the leather, you closed your eyes. You could just picture him and the way he smiled at you. The way he had always smiled just for you. And maybe you should feel more like crying right now, but you were just too fucking tired. 
Dr. Genevieve waited until you were looking at her again before she asked, "You'd want to talk to your husband now? If you could have the chance?"
"Yes, but God... it could be weeks before he's allowed to call again. If at all." Just thinking about it had that cold, clammy feeling building inside you again. 
"Hmm," she hummed. "You said he's on the Theodore Roosevelt?"
"Yep," you replied. "Good old, Teddy. He told me he's been deployed to that vessel more than any other," you said, feeling like you were at the point of rambling nonsense now. But at least your heart was no longer pounding behind your eyes.
"Well, I'll see what I can do."
After that, you left her office and Bickel dismissed you for the day. But Dr. Genevieve told you to keep your phone on you, and you promised you would. And perhaps you should have been mortified when you got home only to answer the door twenty minutes later for a delivery guy, but you weren't.
"I didn't order any food," you told him, but he just handed you two bags and left without asking you to pay. When you took the bags to the kitchen and emptied them onto the counter, you saw a receipt that said it had been charged to J. Bickel. "Oh," you gasped, and Tramp looked up at you. "Yeah, he's pretty chill," you informed your dog about your boss. 
And then you cut the enormous sandwich in half and carried it to the dining room table along with the soup and salad. You ate until you couldn't physically take another bite, and then you got into a hot bath and stayed there until the water turned cool. 
It wasn't even 6 o'clock when you got yourself into bed, but your belly was full and you felt clean. And it had been such a relief to talk to someone who you'd never met before about every dirty detail you'd been living with. Your chest didn't hurt as much, and you didn't feel as helpless. 
You rubbed Tramp's belly, and just as you turned to plug your phone in, it started ringing. You gasped and dropped it on the floor. "Shit!" You almost fell out of bed as you scrambled for it. You'd caught a glimpse of Restricted Caller on the screen, but you wanted to make sure. 
"Bradley?" you nearly shrieked as you answered the call and finally got to see your husband's face. "Bradley!"
"Baby Girl," he rasped, and you sank to the floor as you smiled and started to cry. 
"I'm sorry," you said quickly as he shook his head. "I'm so sorry I let you leave without making sure you heard me when I told you I love you. Because I love you, and I miss you. And I'm sorry I didn't answer your call on Monday! But I was at my doctor's appointment!"
"Shh," he soothed, his eyes glued on yours as he shook his head again. "It's okay. I love you. And I don't need you to apologize for any of that right now. I'm the one who's sorry. I'm so sorry I let you down."
"Roo."
"I just need to know you still love me."
"Of course I still love you," you sobbed, wiping your eyes on his soft UVA shirt. "Bradley, I always will."
His eyes dipped down. "You're wearing my ring, Sweetheart?" 
You nodded and reached for the charms and his wedding band where they hung. "Why did you leave it?" you asked in a tiny, pathetic voice. "I hate that you're not wearing your ring."
He gave you a funny look. "I am," he insisted, holding up his left hand for you to see. 
"What's that?" you asked, examining something that was very much not his wedding band. 
"The silicone ring I told you I was ordering. I actually hate it," he said with a laugh. "You look so beautiful."
"When did you tell me you were ordering a silicone ring?" you asked.
"I don't know," he murmured. "A month ago? I put it on the shopping list on the fridge and asked if you wanted one, too. God, you look so beautiful."
But you just stared at him before springing to your feet and taking your phone into the kitchen. "Oh," you gasped. The magnetic whiteboard was partly covered by a piece of paper, and the marker had gotten smudged, but there it was. Bradley's pre deployment shopping list. You had been so distracted lately, nothing was sticking in your mind when it should have been. "I'm so sorry."
"Hey, Sweetheart," he said, and you looked back at your phone. "I wouldn't have left you without a ring on. Ever. And I can't wait to get back home and get the real thing off your necklace chain and put it back on my finger."
"You can't wait?" you asked, matching his little smile with your own. 
"Of course I can't wait. I'm ready to come home now. I love you. Being away from you and feeling uncertain has been terrifying." 
You couldn't believe how calm he sounded. Like he was just waiting to hear from you and see you, knowing everything would be okay. "I've been having a rough time," you said very softly as you walked back toward the bedroom. "It hasn't been okay."
He looked more concerned now. "We'll fix it," he promised. "As soon as we're together, we will fix it. No matter what it takes. You are my top priority. And that's never going to change. You understand?"
"Yeah," you whispered as you climbed back into bed. 
"If you're not happy with me, then I need to try harder and do better," he promised. "Until there's no doubt in your mind about how much I love you. And I don't need anything else."
There was an unspoken undertone of how the two of wanted and had been trying for a baby. But you didn't want to be the one to say it. "You're sure you don't need anything else?"
He nodded and said, "I'm sure, Sweetheart. I'd be lucky to get to spend the rest of my life with you. Just you. Me and you."
You felt calm in a way you hadn't been in months. It felt like you were melting back into your pillow as Bradley said, "Now why don't you tell me how you pulled this one off. Because I'm sitting in the Commanding Officer's quarters right now, using Admiral Berry's personal iPad."
You laughed, realizing he was sitting in front of an elaborate looking bookshelf as he smiled at you. "I think Admiral Berry is married to Dr. Genevieve Berry." And when you told him you had a panic attack at work and talked to a therapist on base, your husband said he was proud of you for taking care of yourself.
"I haven't been though, Roo," you whispered sadly as you burrowed down in the blankets. "Not really."
"I'm the one who hasn't been taking good enough care of both of us. I promise that's going to change when I get home. I need it to, and you deserve it."
Your body shook slightly with a quiet sob, and you nodded. "My period is going to start soon."
"Okay," he said softly. "We're not worrying about that right now. But I wish I was home to plug in your heating pad and rub your feet." 
"Me, too. I love you." It felt so good to say it to him. His lips parted like he had something to say, then you saw him look to his right. 
"Right, absolutely," he said to someone off screen. "No problem."
When he was facing you again, you asked, "You have to go?" 
"I do," he confirmed with a frown. "But first, can you promise me a few things?"
"Yes."
"You'll make sure you're getting enough sleep and eating enough? And talking to someone if you feel like you're struggling?"
"I promise. And, Roo? If you call and I don't answer, it's because I couldn't, okay? I always want to hear from you."
He smiled and exhaled in visible relief. "I understand. I love you. See you in a few weeks."
------------------------------
Can we...can we breathe a little bit now? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 12
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writing-for-marvel · 7 months
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Day 22: Balcony Sex
Mob!Bucky's Kinktober Honeymoon
Mob!Bucky Barnes × Wife!Reader
Summary: Bucky has other ideas while you’re watching fireworks on your hotel balcony.
Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, public sex/exhibitionism, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie
Word count: 1.6k
A/N: dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies
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“Why are you sitting all the way over there?” Bucky asks when you sit down, cocktail in hand.
Everyone else in the world views your husband as a dark and twisted man, power to control an entire city at his fingertips and ready to slice a man’s throat at the drop of a hat. But right now, he looks like a sad, abandoned puppy simply because you chose to sit at the other end of the settee.
“Just wanted to take in the view.” You’re seated on the balcony of the presidential suite, seemingly on top of the entire world, with a spectacular view onto a gorgeous white sandy beach of the bay below and the setting sun along the horizon. Bucky chose this particular hotel because of this world famous view, as well as the annual firework show planned for tonight.
“I prefer this view right here.” Bucky scoots closer to you, taking your chin in his fingertips and pressing a very purposeful kiss to your lips. Even though it’s a cheesy line, it doesn’t stop you from involuntarily smiling and warmth blooming in your chest. He doesn’t take his adoration-filled eyes off you for a single second, and even though you still can’t believe that anyone in their right mind could truly find you that beautiful, he certainly gazes at you like you are in fact the goddess he claims you to be.
When you place your drink on the side table, Bucky’s strong hands quickly find your hips, lifting you from your position next to him and placing you on his lap. In his own words, you two can never be too close.
But that can sometimes backfire on him, like in situations just as this one where you’re positioned in just the right spot to wiggle your hips and grind down on his hardening bulge.
You know what you’re doing. You’re no fool.
Well before your honeymoon started you knew exactly how to titillate Bucky Barnes within an inch of his life, and you’re certainly not afraid of using this knowledge to your advantage.
“You thought you could wear this cute little dress and not let me fuck you in it?” Even though you’re not looking at him, Bucky’s voice has that deep eagerness to it, as if it’s almost strained, a quality you’ve come to know with time indicates he’s particularly aroused. “You think the fact that we’re outside would stop me from fucking you senseless?”
His grip on your hips is tight enough to leave bruises as his lips lock onto the skin where your neck curves into your shoulder. You rock your hips over his very evident hard on, desire clouding your mind and simply moving your body in a way you know will make him feel good, which is confirmed when your name leaves his lips in a breathy moan.
“Bucky, please… I need to feel you.”
You immediately hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, the anticipation of what is about to happen flooding you with even more wetness. As he pulls his cock out, you pull your panties to the side, wiggling your hips as you wait for him to fill you.
“So wet and needy for me, and I’ve barely touched you.” As you position yourself on his thighs, Bucky rubs his bulbous tip through your wet folds, coating himself in your arousal. “You just can’t get enough of this fat dick, can you Mrs Barnes?”
His cock splits you apart effortlessly, the burn as you stretch around him melds with the pleasure of feeling so wonderfully full of the man you have vowed to share the rest of your life with.
With the help of Bucky’s strong hands on your hips, you lift yourself up his shaft before impaling yourself back down on it, over and over again until you build up a rhythm. The upbeat and brisk music from the beach below blares through the night as you grind down on your husband’s cock, his thick length hitting all the sweet spots inside you which makes the knot in your stomach wind tighter.
You can feel every veiny inch of him within you, stretching you out deliciously before making you feel gapingly empty as you lift your body. A gravelly moan escapes both your throats each time you sink down on him, when you can’t determine where he stops and you start, feeling like one soul linked for eternity.
“Let go for me baby, I know you wanna cum. Soak me sweetheart.” He reaches around your thigh to toy with your clit with the annoyingly perfect pressure and angle that has you hurtling even quicker towards your inevitable release.
“Holy shit Buck, just like that!” You scream as his dexterous fingers work to make you come undone.
You feel yourself crumbling under his touch, being split in half, taken apart at the seams and you cum with a shout of his name. Your thighs quiver beyond use, but Bucky sees to it that he thrusts his hips vigorously upwards, to compensate for your lack of movement and prolong your high.
“That’s my fucking girl.” If you could hear Bucky’s thoughts at this moment, it would make you cum again in an instant. All he can think about is how ravishing you look, how gorgeous you sound as he bounces you on his cock. That you were made for him, that he would go to the ends of the earth just to feel your warm walls constricting against his shaft, that he’d burn the world down before he let anyone deprive him of the rapture of your existence. That he simply never wants to be apart from you ever again.
Once you’ve come down from what seemed to be an everlasting high, Bucky urges you onto your feet while still inside you, walking you towards the edge of the balcony and you get a glimpse of the crowd celebrating on the beach below.
“Better hold on tight baby.” Your hands steady yourself on the railing of the balcony as you prepare for the onslaught you know is about to be unleashed upon you.
Bucky’s fingers dig into the curve of your hips as he begins fucking into you, his hips meeting your ass at such a speed that your body almost can’t fully process the immeasurable pleasure firing in every one of your neurons at the same time.
“Let me hear you, darling. You sound so pretty when you’re taking my cock - want the whole neighbourhood to hear who’s making you feel this good.”
God, you’re so fucked.
“Oh Bucky… Oh fuck! Oh my God… You’re so fucking deep… Shit!” You can’t help the profanities spilling from your lips as Bucky roughly fucks into you. You’re too caught up in how Bucky’s thick cock drags against your walls and kisses your cervix to give a damn about anyone on the beach below observing you being utterly ravaged by your husband.
Being on the top floor of the hotel, it literally seems like you’re on a cloud of bliss, wave after wave of euphoria cascading over you, suffocating as each of Bucky’s unhinged thrusts knocks all the air from your lungs that you’re head starts to feel dizzy.
“Darling you’re so fucking tight, this pussy is gonna milk every drop outta me.” With each thrust Bucky brings you closer to your second high, his balls slapping against your puffy clit and his thick cock grazes that spongy spot inside you which makes your vision blurry. “Be a good little slut and cum on your husband's cock in front of all those people.”
That familiar tightness quickly develops in your lower stomach, a promising indicator you’re hurtling towards your release, as you grip the metal railing for dear life. You scream into the dark night with the sheer intensity of your orgasm as the firework show sparks to life in the sky in front of you. Bucky’s name and obscenities are all drowned out by the loud crackles of the pyrotechnics, your body putty in his hands as he doesn’t let up, both extending your own orgasm and chasing his own.
Your legs feel like jelly and your throat is hoarse as Bucky’s thrusts begin to stutter, his vice grip on your waist somehow growing tighter. The sky illuminates with gold chrysanthemum fireworks as you hear Bucky growl behind you, pouring all his warm seed into you.
Bucky pulls out of you and encircles your waist, tugging you back into him as you watch the firework display decorate the sky. He places a soft kiss to your shoulder once the show ends with blinding blue and pink explosions, and cheers from the crowd below.
“Pinch me.” You request, and you can both hear Bucky chuckle and feel the reverberations of his chest against your back as he does so.
“Why?”
“Just wanna make sure this honeymoon hasn’t been some elaborate dream I’m about to wake up from.” Bucky turns you around as the wind sweeps his hair from his face, his smirk completely intoxicating, a lustful hunger and a blazing yearning so evident in those ocean eyes, you can perceive it even in the blanketing darkness of the night.
“I can assure you darling this is no dream. But I have a much more alluring way of proving it to you than by a simple pinch.”
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navybrat817 · 10 months
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Negotiations
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You meet with Andy to discuss the terms of your potential contract. Word Count: Over 4.2k Warnings: Slow burn, reader is broke (is that a warning?), sugar daddy offer, tension, slight insecurities, negotiations, inner monologue, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Header - yours truly A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thanks!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Work felt like the longest shift even though it was only a few hours. You saw the customers through a different set of eyes as you served them. You wondered how many of them struggled like you or what they would do if someone like Andy entered their lives. If you came to an agreement with him on everything, you weren't sure if you'd ever step foot in the diner again after you quit. Not because you were embarrassed.
It was merely time to look forward.
And look my best.
You turned to the side when you checked your reflection. Estelle had way too much fun picking out an outfit for you. After carefully searching and sneakily looking at the price tag so she didn’t splurge, you opted for a sleeveless, blazer style dress. Nothing over the top or too fancy. You still wanted to look like you while looking professional.
Though she insisted it was your birthday gift, along with the surprisingly comfortable black heels, you planned to pay her back. Whether from the money Andy gave you or once you got your paycheck months from now at your new job. If she refused, you’d tell her the only gift you needed was her support and she gave that to you. Like she knew you were thinking about it, she messaged you.
“Good luck! I know you look hot! Knock his socks and pants off! He better give you everything you deserve!”
You had to smile at her enthusiasm. “It’s his office. His pants are staying on.”
“You say that now, but he’s the boss. You’ll change your tune once he has his hands on you.”
Laughing as you tucked your phone away, you couldn’t completely disagree with her. Andy robbed you of your breath whenever you saw him and it surprised you that you could maintain logical thinking when he was close by. You had to maintain that rational headspace today. He was a man used to people telling him what he wanted to hear. As an ex-lawyer and businessman, he could sway things in his favor if you weren’t careful.
Considering what he was offering you, it didn’t once feel like he was taking advantage of your misfortunes.
You stopped yourself from messaging Andy that you were on your way. He was a busy man with more important stuff to deal with than a check-in from you. It would be one of the topics of discussion shortly anyhow. Would he want to know where you are at all times or would he be content with the occasional message?
How much control will he want over me? How much do I want to give him?
Thanking and paying the cab driver as you arrived at the building, you didn't feel as out of your element the way you did at the restaurant. The office setting was familiar. It was bittersweet going inside though for something that wasn't work or an interview. Maybe this was better.
You held your head high as if it was.
I can do this.
You handed your bag over for the security officer to check while he verified your identification. Satisfied once he double checked your name and ID, he handed you a guest badge and allowed you to go to the elevators. It comforted you that Andy and his employees were safe when they went into his building. You wondered how often you'd be here or if he'd keep you away from his office outside of functions.
You avoided looking at anyone as you got into the elevator, though you felt the eyes of a couple of men sweep over your body. It didn’t matter what they thought. Andy was the only one you wanted to look good for. As you passed by each floor, the more you worried about breaking into a sweat. You shifted back and forth until the door opened.
One step closer.
It took you a second to move your feet forward and turn down the hall. It seemed to stretch on for miles, the door at the end of it was large and daunting. It was like entering the lion’s den, but you weren't afraid. Even if you did pause again before you turned the handle and walked in.
An older woman, Irene according to the nameplate on her desk, sat outside of a set of double doors, giving you a kind smile as she looked up from her keyboard. You didn't let her appearance fool you. Anyone who worked for someone as powerful as Andy likely had thick skin and a "take no crap" attitude.
"How may I help you?"
"Hi. I'm here to see Andy Barber," you replied, giving her your name and inwardly wincing. Of course, she knew you were there to see him. Why else would you be there?
"Yes, Mr. Barber is expecting you," she smiled, pressing the intercom on her desk. "Mr. Barber, your 4pm is here."
"Send her in, please."
It isn't fair that he sounds sexy through a speaker box.
"May I get you anything to drink?" she asked.
"No, thank you," you smiled, following her as she opened the double doors.
This is it.
The office was just as you imagined, the walls lined with a mixture of art and accolades. A small table and chairs sat on one side with a couch on the other. It was elegant, but the man behind the desk drew your attention. Sunlight filtered in through the floor to ceiling windows behind Andy, casting a halo around him as he stood up. A symbol of power and authority in his black suit with the skyline behind him, you found it difficult to take your next breath.
He looks like he was born to be in charge.
"It's good to see you again," Andy smiled, walking around the desk and gesturing to the table. "Why don't we sit over here? Did Irene offer you a drink?"
"Of course, I did, Mr. Barber. And before you remind me, I know to hold your calls," she chastised him, which only made him chuckle before she smiled at you. "I'll be just outside if you need anything."
I knew it. Take no crap.
"Thank you," you said, giggling as you walked to the table. "I like her."
"I do, too. She keeps me on my toes," he said as he pulled out the chair for you. "How was your day?"
"Uneventful," you replied, setting your bag beside you. It was nice that he asked. "How are you?"
"My day was just fine," he said, taking a seat. He had a notepad waiting there, similar to yours.
"That's good."
He gave you a half smile and you debated whether or not to continue with small talk. "Nervous?"
“A little bit,” you said, refusing to lie to him. It wouldn’t start things off on the right foot if you did. “I didn’t have ‘Sugar Daddy Negotiations’ on my BINGO card this year.”
He chuckled, the sound beautiful in the large space. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t either," he joked. "And you don’t look nervous.”
“It actually does,” you smiled. “How do I look?”
“You look beautiful.”
“Oh,” you said, your cheeks growing warmer the longer he gazed at you. While you wanted that to be his reaction, it was somehow unexpected. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, by the way.”
“And I wasn’t taking the bait. I’m telling you what I see.”
“Thank you. This was a birthday gift from Estelle,” you said, smoothing out the dress even though you were sitting. Why you felt the need to tell him, you weren’t sure.
“It’s a beautiful dress, but I was talking about your smile,” he said, his lip tugging in a small smile of his own before he cleared his throat. “As much as I’d like to sit here and continue to shower you with praise, maybe we should save that for another time.”
Your throat went dry at the implication, but you didn't want to get ahead of yourself. “Of course."
"Today is about figuring out our terms and setting expectations. I plan to take notes as we go along, if you don't mind."
"That's fine because I plan to do the same," you explained as you took out your notepad. "I’ve made a list of things I believe we should discuss and agree on before moving forward."
“You’re prepared,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "And getting down to business like last time."
“I do what I can,” you said, glancing at the first item on your list. “First thing is the length of our contract. You mentioned Mr. Huffman’s merger could take a few months, but there’s no definitive timeframe. My proposal is six months or when the job becomes available, whichever comes sooner.”
He considered your words carefully. “I spoke with Scott again and a merger like this may take a minimum of six months due to the range of variables. I propose a year or when the job becomes available. It hopefully won’t take that long, but I’d feel more comfortable if we have more time as opposed to less.”
A year was a long time, but you understood his perspective. “Why don’t we meet in the middle? Nine months.”
“Nine months, but if the merger is still pending at that time, we can revisit the contract and extend it if needed,” he proposed.
“Agreed,” you said, jotting down your notes on your pad while he did the same. “My job. You said I would need to quit and I’d be unable to take another position while under contract. I have no objections to that, but I won’t flat-out quit the diner. I’ll put in my two week notice. If they tell me not to come back, that’s on them.”
“I think that’s the respectable thing to do,” he said, nodding to your pad. “I don’t know where living arrangements are on your list, but I’d like to discuss that next.”
You wanted to discuss your free time since you wouldn't have a job any longer, but you would circle back to that. “Okay. You said over lunch that you’re not comfortable with me staying in my current place.”
“I did and I stand by that. I understand that my building doesn’t guarantee complete safety over yours because anything could happen anywhere at any time, but knowing you’re close by would help put me at ease. I have a loft ready to go and you can treat it as your own place. If something isn’t to your liking, we can change it within reason.”
“Within reason?”
Andy smirked slightly. “I can’t exactly take a sledgehammer to the wall if you want to make the space bigger,” he said, taking out his phone and pulling up an image. “But it’s a nice place. Feel free to swipe through it.”
The photos were beautiful and the living room alone looked larger than your entire apartment. “Is spending time at your place an expectation?” you asked.
“I’d like it if you did for an occasional dinner, but I understand if you'd rather not. I'd also like to meet you once a month outside of contractual obligations to talk.”
Sounds like a date. Is it though?
“I agree to the loft, the occasional dinner, and meeting with you once a month," you agreed. It wasn't overwhelming or demanding. You'd still have a sense of independence. "But I’d like to keep my current apartment. If I take this job in the upcoming months, I can't expect you to cover the loft anymore and I doubt I could afford it even with a decent salary. I’ll need a place to go back to until I find something better.”
"I own it," he said. He wasn't bragging in your mind. He was stating a fact.
"I doubt I could afford your rent then. I keep my apartment."
“Done,” he said after a moment. You were glad he agreed. Your apartment was still yours. “Which is a good segway into expenses. As a reminder, I plan to cover the rent for your current apartment, along with any bills associated with it such as cable or internet. If you prefer to shut those off during the contract, we can. I’ll also cover your cell phone, insurance, credit card bills, student loans, any debt you pay on a monthly basis. Oh, and groceries.”
Tears filled your eyes as he opened his mouth to continue. The more you tried to compose yourself, the more your face scrunched up. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. You hadn't expected to get emotional, but actually hearing him say he’d cover your monthly bills and help you stay on top of everything was unreal. You'd sleep better at night knowing you had nothing to worry about.
I probably look ridiculous.
“Don’t be,” he said gently, handing you his handkerchief so you could dab your eyes.
“I’m just,” you stopped to take a breath. It was okay to be vulnerable. That was part of communicating. “I’ve carried this stress on my shoulders and knowing that you’re going to take some of that weight away is… I’m never going to be able to repay you for that or thank you enough.”
“I don’t expect a monetary repayment nor would I want that. I told you, honey. You're an honest and kind person. Your company is going to be more than enough.”
He sounds too good to be true.
“You say that now, but you'll grow tired of me,” you teased, holding out your hand to give him the handkerchief. “Thank you.”
He shook his head and refused to take it back. “Keep it. And considering I offered a year for this, I know I won't grow tired of your company,” he said, a bit of concern in his eyes as you sniffled. “Are you okay to continue? We can take a break.”
“I'm fine,” you promised, straightening up and feeling lighter, like the weight was already gone. “We were discussing expenses.”
“Yes,” he smiled, gesturing to your outfit. “I plan to take you shopping so you can have a few outfits, jewelry, shoes, make-up, and whatever else you need ready for the planned upcoming events, as well as some dressed down outfits so you’re comfortable when we travel and to spruce up your wardrobe if you’d like.”
Careful. You’re going to spoil me.
“I’m also going to deposit two thousand dollars into your account each month for your leisure,” he added, writing it on his pad as if that was the final say in the matter.
“Two thousand dollars?!” you nearly shouted. You weren’t trying to sound hysterical, but you failed. “I’m sorry, but who spends that much on clothes each month?!”
Andy looked like he was trying not to laugh at the incredulous look on your face. “You don’t have to spend it on clothes. It’s for you to use as you wish.”
“But you’re already buying me a whole new wardrobe AND covering all of my bills and expenses for nine months. I’m assuming you're covering travel expenses, too?”
“I will,” he confirmed.
“Then there’s no reason why I’d need that much money,” you said with a shake of your head. Estelle would probably tease you for not agreeing, but it was too much. “I can’t possibly need more than five hundred a month.”
“One thousand,” he said firmly as you narrowed your eyes. “Humor me, honey. Please?”
You tapped your pen against the pad as you thought it over. You really didn’t see a reason for that much, but you could put any leftover funds each month into savings. It would be good to pay Estelle back.
Plus, how could you argue when Andy gave you a sweet smile?
“Fine. One thousand each month,” you said, ignoring the look of satisfaction in his eyes. “Okay. We’ve discussed the length of the contract, my job, living arrangements, expenses, which includes traveling. How about traveling itself?”
“Is your passport current?” he asked.
“It is.”
“Good. Some of the traveling will require us to go out of the country and you’ll need it handy. We’ll need to coordinate our schedules so you can block off dates in your calendar. We’ll most likely share a suite for any non-local events, but I’m not going to make you share a bed with me. You have my word.”
You nodded as you wrote that down. It was a bit of a surprise that he didn’t expect you to sleep with him. “Thank you, Andy,” you said, pointing at him with your pen. “But I’m planning to tell Estelle about every function, big or small, so she knows where I am. I won’t budge on that.”
“You’re allowed to give her the details. You said you trust her and that she can be discreet.”
You could never picture Andy as a creep, but the confirmation that he wouldn't force you to sleep with him and that Estelle would know what's going on helped you relax. "If I'm not working or going to functions with you, what am I doing with the rest of my time?" you asked.
Does he expect me to be at his beck and call?
"I'm glad you asked. It's your time to do what you want. Relax, hang out with friends, pamper yourself. Minus the days you'll have blocked out in your calendar, the time is yours," he explained, lightly twirling his pen in his hand. The motion momentarily distracted you. "I only ask if you plan to leave the city to tell me, that way I know you're unavailable if anything last minute comes up."
You weren't sure what you were going to do with that extra time. While a nine month long vacation sounded nice, you didn't want it to be all leisure. You needed somewhat of a routine. Maybe you could take some self development courses to prepare for going back to the office.
"That's fair. I don't have any plans to leave the city, but I'll be sure to let you know if I do," you said, hoping you weren't missing anything as you looked over what you had written down. "What if I’m sick or there’s an emergency and I can't be with you?”
“Then you won’t go," he said as a matter of fact. "I’d never ask you to choose between this arrangement and your well-being or family. Depending on the situation, I could miss it to help you.”
That was unexpected. Andy shouldn't have to put you ahead of any of his obligations. The offer though, even if it never came to fruition, warmed your insides. "That's kind of you, Andy," you said softly before you cleared your throat. “The last topic I have written down is sex.”
“No,” he said, something unreadable in his eyes at the suggestion. “Sex is not on the table because I’m not going to pay you for that.”
“Oh,” you said, quickly scratching it off your list. It was admirable on his part, but also slightly disappointing. Clearly you misread some of the signals. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply-”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he assured you, placing his hand over yours before you could pull it away. “If I sounded harsh, I’m sorry. I understand sex is an expectation for some arrangements, but it isn’t for me and I would never want you to feel pressured to be physical with me. I also have no judgments against anyone who pays for sex. My preference regarding intimacy is for it to happen organically.”
“I appreciate the explanation,” you said. This was a business transaction to him. That much was clear. But knowing his reasoning behind it did help. “As far as being affectionate at functions, what’s your take on that? Or going on dates?”
“I may have my arm around you or keep you close to my side, but nothing more if you’re uncomfortable with that. If you are, please tell me and I’ll stop immediately,” he answered before a moment of silence stretched on. "You're asking if we're going to go on dates?"
"You mentioned meeting once a month. Is that a date?"
He waited a few seconds before he answered. "It's a chance for us to meet up and talk. I don't want to demand a title for those moments. That isn't fair to you."
It wasn't a "yes" or "no" answer. Maybe after his divorce and not knowing if people genuinely wanted to connect with him, he wasn't interested in the dating scene. "Okay."
He leaned back in his chair with a hum. “You deviated from the sex discussion quickly.”
“You said it wasn’t on the table,” you reminded him. You weren't about to make a fool of yourself by pushing.
“I said I wasn’t going to pay you for sex. I never said sex wasn’t on the table at all,” he pointed out. You jumped to the conclusion that he didn't want it because it wouldn't be part of the contract. “Any discussion we have regarding that, I’d prefer not to be in a contract form.”
“So if it does happen, we’ll work through it together naturally?” you asked, not wanting to get your hopes up.
His gaze softened considerably. “Yes, we would. And I’d hope you’d trust me enough to know I’d treat you well and take care of you.”
"I do," you said.
"But sex and a relationship aren't expectations of our agreement or outside of it," he said, taking his hand away from yours. "I want to make that clear."
Andy driving the point home was what you needed, as saddening as it was. At the end of the day, it was a contract. He was paying you for your company. Surely he didn't want anything else. "Thank you for reiterating that. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss that I missed?"
His expression remained neutral, but you imagined it disappointed him that you shifted the conversation back to business. Wishful thinking on your part. "Yeah. The only other thing I wanted to discuss is the possibility of you having a driver."
"A driver?" you asked. Wasn't that a bit much? "I don't mind taking cabs or Ubers."
"I understand that, but I'd prefer if you had a driver. If you have to meet me for an event and I can't escort you myself, they will know exactly where to go. You also won't have to pay for someone to drive you around if you want to go anywhere."
"But you're paying them," you said.
"My job is to cover your expenses," he shrugged, leaning his head back and reaching up to loosen his tie. You stared for far too long. "Told you I want to take care of you, honey."
You shifted in your seat, hoping he didn't take any notice. "I want to pick the driver," you said, a little more breathy than before.
That poor driver is likely going to be bored for the next three quarters of a year being my chauffeur.
"From a selection of my choosing. They're all trustworthy."
"I'm giving Estelle the details of that, too," you said.
"I expect nothing less," he smiled, catching your eye. "Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?"
"Not that I can think of," you said.
He tapped the notepad with his pen. "I'm going to have a contract drawn up, but I won't ask you to sign it for a week. This will give you time to back out if you need to and it will also give you a few days to contact me should you think of anything else."
"One week," you whispered. Could you wait that long? What if you did think of something else?
"Until then," he said, standing to walk back to his desk. He came back with a letter sized envelope. "So you know I'm serious."
Your eyebrows shot up when you opened the envelope. It was a cashier's check for two thousand dollars made out to you. He had it ready for you. "Andy, this-"
"I know we agreed on one thousand, but I was set on two thousand before we talked it over. Even if you decide not to move forward with this, I want you to take it."
Afraid you might cry again, you set the check down and stood up to hug him. He stiffened in your hold and you wondered if you overstepped before he exhaled and wrapped his arms around your back. You thanked him already with your words, so you wanted to do it again with a hug. The way he held you in return, it felt like was saying "you're welcome".
And that you weren't alone.
"I wish we could have that dinner tonight," he whispered, his mouth close to your ear. You shivered before you reluctantly pulled away. "Unfortunately, I have to get drinks with a few executives."
"That sounds terrible," you teased, drawing a chuckle out of him. "I should get going then."
"It is terrible," he agreed, making sure you had the check and your other things as he led you to the door. "I'll see you back here in a week at the same time."
"And I'll hopefully speak to you before then," you said, not wanting to sound clingy.
But the smile he gave you was a sign of hope. "I'd like that."
This is going to be the longest week ever.
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I don't need to wait a week. I'm signing on the dotted line! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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cheolhub · 8 months
Note
happy cheolhub day sar!!! 🎉🫶🏽the banner for your bday post is so cuteee i love the colors! i might be too late for the bday bash, but if i’m not can i ask for “as much as i'd love to have you choking on me, i'm impatient and there's something else i want more” + joshua, please? 💗
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7:15 p.m. — joshua hong
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prompt. “as much as i'd love to have you choking on me, i'm impatient and there's something else i want more.”
wc. ~1.9k
warnings. slight exhibitionism, lots of teasing, bathroom sex (bathroom belongs to cheol oops), mirror sex, needy joshua <3, reader is a menace, dirty talk, pet names [baby], unprotected sex, creampie [MINORS DNI 18+]
note. hi cherry!! thank you lots <333 i kinda… pulled this out of my ass so forgive me if you hate it lol >< as always, this was not proofread so if any of u see a mistake, pls ignore it
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there are many things you love and appreciate about joshua hong. he’s caring, for one, willing to bend over backwards just to see you smile. he also just so happens to be one of the funniest men you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and while he is a menace 99.9% of the time, you can’t imagine not having him by your side. 
and, well, you can be a bit of a menace yourself. 
if there’s one particular thing you love the most about joshua, though, it’s his ability to be completely and utterly patient in almost every situation. he’s always cool, calm, collected– for the most part– and he knows how to wait for the things he wants till the right time comes. (read: things he wants being you) 
and you wish you could say the same about yourself, but you’re not even the slightest bit patient. to you, waiting is pointless and essentially time-consuming. screw “good things come to those who wait.”
nonetheless, you love this trait of his because you thoroughly enjoy testing him and watching his patient resolve crumble with your every action. especially in public. especially at your weekly movie nights in seungcheol’s house.
“stop,” he hisses, swatting your hand away from his thigh. “i already told you, you can have whatever you want when we get home.”
a faux pout etches into your lips, you quietly whine out, “but josh… i want it now.”
“no.” he says sternly, turning back to the movie. technicolor flashes over his face as something happens on the screen. he wish he knew what the plot of this flashy movie was, but all he can think about is how you’re silently begging for his dick right next to him even though a handful of his best friends sit on the floor in front of the two of you. 
you scoot closer to him, lightly ghosting your lips against the underside of his jaw, trailing up to his ear. “please, baby… i miss your cock.” you whisper. “wanna taste. i can’t wait, been needing it all night.”
your hand presses down onto his covered cock, palming him through his shorts. you pant, breath fanning against his ear causing a shiver to run down his spine. 
you nearly salivate as you feel him harden under you, your mouth craving the weight of his cock on your tongue. it’s obvious his patience is wearing thin because his protests have stopped and he’s become much more compliant. 
“josh,” you bring your voice just above a whisper. “please, i’ll do anything to have you in my mouth right now.”
his hand wraps around your wrist, roughly pulling you away from his aching hard on. he leans in close to you, whispering, “go wait for me in the bathroom upstairs.”
you don’t think you’ve ever moved faster, nodding your head before detaching yourself from his side. you quietly step around the boys on the floor with hushed, “sorry’s” and “excuse me’s” in reply to their grumbles. 
“where’s Y/N going?” seungcheol asks, turning back to look at joshua with a raised brow. 
the lie slips out of his mouth so easily, “ah, she had to call her boss. something about a file she forgot to turn in. i’ll go check on her if she’s not back in a bit.” when seungcheol nods, turning his head back to the television screen where the other eyes are, he lets out a silent breath of relief.
a few minutes pass with joshua twiddling his thumb, cock throbbing in his pants knowing you’re waiting for him just a few steps away. he finally stands, stepping away whispering a ‘be right back’ to which seungcheol and jeonghan mumble in response, too engrossed in the stupid movie to care about what the two of you are doing anymore.
he walks up the steep flight of stairs and into the guest bathroom where you’re sitting on the wide expanse of seungcheol’s countertop, gnawing on your bottom lip and swinging your legs back and forth. your head snaps up to see your boyfriend with a stony expression striding over to you. 
“you’re such a fucking tease,” he murmurs, hands immediately finding purchase on your waist. “putting your hands all over me in someone else’s home, are you that desperate? couldn’t wait an hour till we got home?”
you nod your head, lips spreading into a cheeky grin, “i’m always desperate for you, joshie.” 
your words come across as taunting, but you are beyond desperate for him. the heat pooling in the pit of your tummy and the puddle forming in your panties tells you so. 
“menace.” he scoffs, squeezing the clothed skin beneath his large hands. 
“you’re one to talk.” you flash a toothy grin at him, hoping off the counter and onto your feet. “now, let me suck you off before they realize we’re both missing.” 
joshua hooks a hand under your arm, halting your attempt to drop to your knees. he leans in, voice low as his breath fans against your face. “as much as i'd love to have you choking on me, i'm impatient and there's something else i want more.”
your own breath gets caught in your throat, “josh–” you try, but you don’t get to say what you want before joshua spins you around and bends you over the counter, your heated cheek flush against the contrastingly cool quartz.
a whine bubbles in your chest when his hands pull your shorts and panties down in a single go. the chilly air hitting your pulsing heat has another sound slipping your lips, louder and clearly audible.
“shhh, you don’t want them to come up here and find you taking my cock, do you?” he mumbles, pulling his length out of his shorts and dragging the tip through your drenched folds. you gasp at the contact and he chuckles, “actually, that might be exactly what you want, huh?”
“josh…” you pant exasperated, wiggling your ass before him. “please, just fuck me.”
joshua feels his length pulse in his hand at the breathless version of his name, brain short circuiting at how pretty it sounds on your lips. every remaining ounce of patience withers away to nothing and he’s aligning himself with your drooling hole, pushing himself inside of you. he grunts softly, lodging his bottom lip between his teeth to prevent the likes of a needy moan from exiting his mouth. 
your eyes screw shut and your mouth cracks open to let out the quietest mewl. joshua has always had a knack for gently fucking and stretching you open, but when he’s like this? at his wits end, worked up beyond belief, and undeniably needy for release? he’s near animalistic– forcing his cock into you in one go and gripping at your supple skin so tight that it leaves evidence of the action. an absolute force to be reckoned with. 
but despite joshua’s rough gestures at this very moment, he’s very glad you decided to test his patience tonight because he honestly didn’t realize how badly he needed this till he bottomed out in your slick, tight pussy. nothing beats the feeling of your cunt struggling to the shape of his cock even though he’s fucked you a thousand times. 
he throws his head back as he pulls out completely before shoving himself back into you, his tip nestling at your hilt for a few seconds.
“baby, you’re gonna be the death of me.” he says breathlessly, actively trying not to make a sound. when you clamp tightly around him, he delivers a sharp thrust into the spot that has your eyes rolling. “you’re fucking evil.” he grunts, his bruising grip on your waist unrelenting. 
your palms lay flat against the counter and you use the remainder of your strength to push yourself up to look at him in the mirror’s reflection. “you love it,” you manage to respond, albeit in a strangled voice. 
a lazy grin forms on his face, “you’re right. i fucking love it.” he agrees. he slams into you with more vigor, cock pistoning in and out of you. “i love it when you fucking test me.” he mindlessly admits. 
you bring one hand to clamp over your hand, leaving the other pressed against the counter to keep you up. you muffle the moans that grow louder with every thrust, but some of them inevitably spill out anyway.
it’s music to joshua’s ears. he’s reveling in the way you moan, uncaring of how his four friends can probably hear you just downstairs. if anything, it spurs him on. he’s savoring the way your throbbing heat wraps around him, squeezing him so tight that he might bust prematurely. he’s loving every second of this and he can’t believe he almost turned the offer enticing offer down. 
tears spring to your eyes as the fiery knot in your belly tightens. joshua groans when your pussy involuntarily flutters and he gives you a knowing look through the mirror. 
“you’re close, aren’t you, baby? gonna cum all over me, yeah?” he asks hotly, words breathy and laced with slight desperation. his pride won’t let him cum before you. 
you sob into your hand, nodding your head. “joshua.” the muffled version of his name has his cock twitching and he can’t stop the guttural groan from bubbling in his chest. 
one of his hands snakes around your body till the calloused pads of his fingers find your sensitive clit. he rubs quick, yet consistent, circles into the hardened bud till your body goes taut under his. 
“that’s it. cum for me.” he coaxes gruffly. he prays that the walls aren’t paper thin because your mewls– even while the sounds are muffled by your hand– mixed with the sound of his balls slapping against your heat are positively loud.
you soak his cock in arousal, specks of white flashing in your vision before you nearly collapse. your body goes limp as joshua continues to fervently thrust into you. 
watching you cum has him twitching wildly between your spasming walls and letting out quiet, yet keen moans and groans of pleasure. 
“gonna cum inside you and you’re gonna go back out there with all of it inside of you.” he grunts, thrusts growing more and more brutal. “gonna act like nothing happened with my cum inside your insatiable little cunt, got that?”
you nod, weakly clenching around him again and giving him a pathetic whimper. 
his thrusts grow sloppy and inconsistent before he buries himself inside of you and spills his seed with a breathy moan. he pants, keeping his cock nestled in your ruined cunt till his labored breathing returns to normal. 
after a minute or so, he pulls out of you and quickly pulls your shorts and panties back up to keep his earlier promise. he tucks himself back into his shorts and smiles at your fucked out face through the mirror.
“hope that satiated you,” he says gravelly. “next time you decide to test my patience, i won’t be so nice.” 
you offer a throaty laugh, a lazy smile tugging up your lips, “i’ll be looking forward to it.”
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© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.
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Unwanted: Chapter 24, Undercover - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, exotic dancing, underage drug use, implications of human trafficking, poorly translated Russian
Word Count: 1.8k
Previously On...: You returned back to the safehouse. Sam told you Bucky's been trying to avoid Cunthrage, but you're done caring.
A/N: I'm not going to lie, I love Dimitri. <3
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc
You spent the next few days in one of two ways: your work hours trying to find out as much about Kozlov’s silent partners as possible, and your off time looking for someone to fuck the memory of Bucky right out of you.
You were coming up empty on the former, and even worse on the latter. It didn’t seem to matter how many guys you found to put their dicks in you; none of them did what Bucky could do to your body. You’d at least learned from your mistake with Bad Decision #1 and had gone out and bought a large pack of condoms. You weren’t going to run any more risks in that department. 
As you entered the floor for the start of your next shift, Henchman #2– Dimitri– you reminded yourself, approached you. 
“Cherry, yes?” he asked.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Boss vants you to dance in his private lounge tonight,” he said, gently herding you in the direction of Kozlov’s suite of rooms.
“Okay,” you said hesitantly. “Is there a private party, or…” You left the thought hanging, hoping Dimitiri would fill the silence.
Bless his heart, the idiot did. He leaned down to whisper conspiratorially as you walked together. “Zer is big boss with Kozlov tonight,” he told you, and your heart nearly stopped. You couldn’t believe your luck. “He vishes to see ze best talent, and Kozlov ask for you special.” Your eyes glanced down to your bangle. Were they about to try and make you their latest offering for the auction block?
“Big boss?” you asked, feigning ignorance. “But I thought Kozlov owned the club. How can he have a boss if he is the boss?”
You’d stopped now in front of the doors to Kozlov’s rooms.
Dimitiri laughed, as though you were just a silly girl who couldn’t possibly understand how the world worked. “Kozlov owns Viggle Room, yes. Dis iz true. But big boss is from large group zat funds club. Very secret group. Very scary.” He raised his hands like monster claws and laughed. “Kozlov calls zem– how do you say? Gidra.” Hydra.
You gasped, and Dimitri mistook your surprise for fear.
“Oh, not to worry, little dove! I zink zis group not so scary as zey pretend to be. Gidra all talk.” He held up his hand like a puppet. “All ze time, Gidra is ‘blah, blah, blah,’ yes? No action.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, hoping you weren’t pressing your luck with your question.
“Zer is somezing Gidra iz looking for. Zey vant it very bad. Very, very bad. Zey look for long time, yes? But never find. Dimitri think, Gidra cannot be good at job if ze cannot find zis zing zey are to be looking for, no?”
“Well, what are they looking for? Maybe I’ve seen it.” Yeah, you were laying it on a little thick now, but you wanted to keep the man talking to see what other nuggets of intel he was willing to drop in your lap.
“Aw, little dove iz very sweet to ask. But Dimitri doez not know vhat zis important zing iz. Kozlov never say.” “That doesn’t seem very nice of him,” you said, hedging on a bet to gain move of the man’s confidence. “You’ve always seemed like a very good employee for Mr. Kozlov. Very loyal, very brave. He should reward you by trusting you more.”
Dimitri’s chest puffed up a bit at your words. “Little dove is kind. Dimitri iz not worried. Kozlov will tell if Dimitri must know.”
Well, that failed.
Dimitri knocked on the door, and after a moment, Kozlov answered, shirt half unbuttoned and nose already red from having snorted something. Wonderful, you thought. This’ll be great.
“Cherry Pie, boss,” Dimitri said, presenting you to Kozlov. The look the club owner gave you as he eyed you up and down was downright lecherous and you had to suppress the way it made your skin crawl.
“Ah, ze little dove, at last!” Kozlov exclaimed, throwing the door open wider. You glanced over his shoulder and could see a few other men, among them six or seven of Kozlov’s top girls in various states of undress. “Come, come,” he motioned you inside. “I have friendz I vish you to meet!”
If you had been expecting Kozlov to walk you up to each man and introduce them by name, you were sorely mistaken. Instead, he put his hands on your shoulder and addressed them as if you were an inanimate object.
“Gentlemen, I present our Cherry Pie! She haz only been vith us a short time, but she haz proved very popular, and has much talent. Show them vhat you do, little dove.”
He smacked your ass, your cue to begin your dance. You tried to keep your focus on the men’s conversation as you gyrated to the music, but one of the other girls danced her way over to you and tried striking up a conversation.
“Hi! I’m Chloe! I hope you don’t mind; I watched some of your sets. You’re such a good dancer!” You smiled in her direction, not wanting to take your concentration from the men, who seemed to be comparing the girls against one another. 
“How long have you been in the business,” the girl– Chloe– asked you.
“A while,” you murmured
“No wonder you’re so good, then!” She smiled brightly as she bent over and shook her ass. “You’ve had time to practice. I just started. My stepdad set me up at this place. I guess he used to play cards with Mr. Kozlov? That’s how he knew the club needed more dancers.”
That caught your attention and you froze momentarily. “How old are you?” you asked her. You turned to really look at her. God. She could have been you fifteen years ago.
Chloe leaned in close and whispered in your ear. “Eighteen,” she said with a giggle– you didn’t believe her for a minute, “but my stepdad said if anyone asks, I’m supposed to tell them I’m twenty-one”
Your stomach turned, and you felt for a moment like you might be sick. “Why aren’t you in school?” you asked her, trying to keep the sudden tremble out of your voice. 
Chloe shrugged as she turned in a seductive circle. “My stepdad says we need money more than I need school right now. He said once we’re back on our feet, I can go back.”
“What about your mom? What does she say? She can’t agree with that.”
Chloe’s face fell, and the churning sensation in your stomach intensified. “She’s sick.” Her voice was so soft now you had to strain to hear it. 
Your breathing began coming faster, your pulse picking up. This was wrong. “You shouldn’t be here, Chloe,” you whispered to her, desperation in your voice.
Chloe frowned and paused her dancing. “I know I’m not as good as you, but I’m a fast learner. I’ll get better.”
“No,” you interjected quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I mean you shouldn’t be in this club, you shouldn’t be a fucking stripper. You’re just a kid. You should be in school, getting an education, not shaking your ass for some scumbag stepfather.”
A heavy crease appeared between Chloe’s brows. “He’s not a scumbag,” she countered. “He works hard, but the money’s just never enough. Mom’s medicine is expensive, and we don’t have insurance.”
“Then he should have gotten you a job at McDonald’s or something, not making you show strange men your tits for money!” you hissed. 
Chloe took a step away from you. “You’re not better than me,” she said, and you could hear the hurt in her voice.
“I never said I was,” you began.
“Ladies!” Kozlov called, interrupting you and drawing the girls’ attention back to where the men were sitting, “come, it iz time to share some party favors!” 
On the table were lines of coke, one prepared for each dancer. “Who vill go first?” Kozlov asked with a grin.
Chloe stepped forward, casting you a cold glance. 
“Ah, Chloe! Come, come, love.” You wanted to scream, to swipe your hand across the table and send the white powder flying across the room, but it was vital you maintain your cover. You didn’t have nearly enough information to risk blowing it over some, well, blow.
The men murmured appreciatively as Chloe bent over, making sure to point her ass in their direction, as she snorted the line up her nose. It was obvious by the ease in which she did it, with no hesitation, that this was not her first time. You closed your eyes.
One by one, the other girls stepped forward to do their lines. You noticed how the men murmured amongst themselves as each girl stepped up, as if they were judging them. And then it hit you.
This was a test. 
They were determining how well you each followed orders, how much resistance you would put up. You watched as some of the girls sniffled and sneezed as they inhaled; these were the girls who made the men seem happiest– you knew they were pleased to see a girl who apparently had never done coke before willingly do so just because a man told her to. They were judging your submissiveness.
Finally, there were only two of you left: you, and a redhead you knew went by Birdie. The poor girl looked terrified and was shaking her head. You stepped forward.
“Ah, little dove,” Kozlov cooed, “I vaz vondering vhen you vould come play.” You took a deep breath to steel your nerves, bent down, and snorted the two remaining lines yourself.
You felt the rush hit you almost immediately. “Oops,” you giggled, “sorry, Birdie. I guess I got a little greedy.” There was no mistaking the gratitude in the other girl’s eyes– it was obvious to her that you had snorted the second line so that she wouldn’t have to. 
You could already feel your heart begin to race, and for a moment, you almost felt like you had two heartbeats. Kozlov came up behind you and wrapped a lanky arm around your waist. 
“Naughty, naughty, little dove,” he smirked at you. “I vill have to punish you later,” he whispered in your ear. It sent a shiver of repulsion throughout your body, which Kozlov must have taken for anticipation, because he pressed his hips into your back, and you could feel his erection press against you. 
From there, your memories of the night became hazy. You had brief flashes of awareness– grinding against one of the visiting men– kissing another dancer– Kozlov’s hands all over your body. You knew the situation was not ideal, that Sam would be furious with you. Hell, you knew you could potentially jeopardize the entire mission, but in the moment, you realized that all the pain, all the anger and rage you’d been holding in because of Bucky– all that was just gone, as though it had blown away on the wind. And though a tiny voice in the back of your head was telling you you’d regret everything in the morning, for the moment, you were grateful.
<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->
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multi-fandom-imagine · 8 months
Note
Omg can you do a mk1 Kenshi fic about meeting the reader who also got recruited by Liu Kang? They first meet when they train for the shaolin and maybe reader is also close friends with Raiden ans Kung Lao? (If thats too much then PLEASE just anything for Kenshi😭)
A/n: Yessss! More for my boy Kenshi! I love him. {shitty banner made by me}
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A few recruit, that is what Johnny kept blabbing about and honestly he could careless who Liu Kang brought in, he did careless until Raiden and Kung Lao started to talk about you and from what they were saying he couldn’t help but have his interest peaked.
And then he saw you and he was blown away, he mentally scoffed at himself because Johnny was right about what they were saying about you. He found it hard to tare his gaze from your form but that wasn’t all.
You were kind, playful and he found himself getting nervous around you when you let out that cute little laugh you did. He hated how easily you were able to distract him because it meant that he couldn’t fight, he couldn’t become a better fighter. But you didn’t even seem to notice what you were doing and he wasn’t quite sure how much longer he could last before he blurt out his feelings to you.
God what if he looked like an idiot?
Wetting his lips, he ran his hand down his neck rubbing the soreness away. He was so distracted he didn’t even notice you approach.
“Kenshi?”
Tensing, Kenshi slowly turned his head swallowing thickly as he did his best to pull his gaze from you, his heart pounding in his chest though he did his best to force a smile on his face. “How can I help you?”
Grinning you took a step forward as he took a step back. “Me, Johnny, Raiden and Kung Lao are going to grab something to eat, wanna join us.”
Kenshi’s throat suddenly went dry and he didn’t know what to say. Spend some time with you? Yes you wouldn’t be alone but how could he pass up an opportunity like that. “I like you.” He smiled though his eyes went wide when he realized what he just said.
“Did you just say that you like me?” You asked though a smile was on your face.
Licking his lips Kenshi shook his head as he took a step back. “I did not.”
“Yes you did, you said you liked me.” Taking another step closer you watched his back hit the wall.
Kenshi shook his head though he frantically tried to find away to leave. “I did no-.”
Cutting him off, you pressed your lips against his, you could feel his body stiffen until he finally relaxed into the kiss as he moved his hands to your hips drawing you in closer as he deepened his kiss.
Once the kiss was broken you pressed your lips to the corner of his lips. “I like you too Kenshi.”
“That’s…that’s good to know.”
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scoonsalicious · 20 days
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Unwanted: Chapter 26, Unsurprising - Pt. 5
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of sex.
Word Count: 1.4k
Previously On...: Nat gave you some very interesting, and disturbing news.
A/N: ::giggles like school girl::
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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“Buck,” you hissed, shaking his sleeping form. You hadn’t been on the phone with Nat for that long; there’s no way he should be sleeping this deeply already. “Wake the fuck up!”
He groaned and rolled over, looking at you through sleepy eyes. “Pocket?” he groaned, bringing up a hand to rub at his forehead. “I told you, I’m not just gonna fuck you if it doesn’t mean anything.”
You shoved him. “That’s not why I’m here, asshat!” you hissed. “Something’s happened!”
Bucky bolted upright and flipped on the bedside lamp. “What is it?” he asked, looking alarmed as he ran his eyes over your frame. “Are you alright? Are there complications? Do you need to go back to the hospital?” You were surprised that his immediate response was concern for your welfare, though you shouldn’t have been– Bucky had always been protective– until it came to protecting you from his actions, of course. 
“No,” you said, reassuring him, “I’m fine. Something happened at the Tower. With Carthage.” You quickly recapped what Natasha had texted you, adding the sparse details she’d provided during your call.
“So, she quit?” he asked. “That’s great!”
“No, baby,” you said, and if either one of you noticed the endearment that slipped out, you didn’t acknowledge it. “Fuck… I’m just gonna say it because I don’t know how to put it delicately: Jade’s an undercover Hydra operative and her mission was to bring you back to them so they could reclaim you as their asset.”
You weren’t sure what reaction you had expected from Bucky– shock? Anger? Tears? Any one of them, or, hell, a combination of all three, would have been more than appropriate and expected.
What you had not been expecting, however, was fucking laughter. You looked at him blankly for a minute, wondering if you’d looked this crazy when you’d started laughing after Dr. Carson had informed you of your miscarriage.
“It’s not funny, Buck,” you said, annoyed. 
“It’s fucking hilarious, doll!” Bucky gasped, tears coming to his eyes from how hard he was laughing now. “She’s a Hydra agent? She’s got TicTac followers, for Christ’s sake!”
You could feel your blood pressure rising in your veins. Oh, you were getting angry at him, now. “First of all, it’s fucking TikTok, and I don’t know why we have to keep having that conversation! And second,” you took a breath, knowing this was probably not the most appropriate time to start something, but not being able to let it go, “I cannot fucking believe that, after everything, all the bullshit you fed me tonight in the living room, you’re still taking her side, taking her word over mine, as if I would make an accusation like that without any fucking proof!”
Bucky’s demeanor sobered up in an instant, as if you’d physically knocked the laughter out of him. He reached for your hand, and you let him take it. “Oh, sweets, no– that’s not… that’s not why I’m laughin’. I believe you; trust me, I learned my lesson there. No, it’s fucking hilarious, because of course she’s a Hydra agent. It explains everything, actually.” He didn’t need to elaborate for you to catch his meaning– of course she would have only pursued him so aggressively because it was her mission objective to do so. He must have felt himself so foolish to think that she would have had real feelings for him. You thought for a second that the realization should make you angry– you hadn’t needed a secret agenda to love him, after all, but then, he probably thought you didn’t love him anymore, either; you’d certainly given no indication of it. Even now, he still viewed himself as so completely undeserving of affection, and that just made your heart heavy with sadness.
“I don’t think it was just her mission,” you said, not really sure why you were about to come to the defense of the woman who’d made your life a living hell, but also knowing that you couldn’t stand for him to think he was unloveable. “She had the perfect opportunity to incapacitate you and bring you back to them on the Russia trip.” Ugh, just saying those two words left a sick taste in your mouth. “You were alone, in their territory, and she… she had you in an extremely vulnerable position. It would have been so easy for her to incapacitate you there, deliver you to them. But she didn’t. Whatever her mission objective is, I’m pretty sure she’s got one of her own, and I think it’s just you.”
Bucky studied you quizzically. “Are you… trying to reassure me? Because trust me, Pocket, it’s no skin off my back if she never actually cared about me, though it does make me regret everything even more.”
“I just…” you struggled to find the right words. “I just don’t want you thinking the only reason someone would want you is because they were told to,” you said after a minute. “That they were pretending. I’ve seen the way she looked at you, and it drove me absolutely crazy, because I know that’s how I look at you, too. I’m just saying, in her own fucked up way, I think she does care for you, whatever that means to her.”
Bucky’s head tilted as he looked at you, eyes gone gooey. “Present tense,” he said softly.
“What?”
He held your cheek into his big hand, rubbing a thumb along the line of your cheek bone. “You said that’s how you look at me. Not looked. Present tense, not past.” 
You snorted; you’d walked right into that. “Just because I stopped trusting you doesn’t mean I ever stopped loving you,” you admitted. 
“Pocket,” he said, leaning closer to you, “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay? If you don’t want me to, just say the word, and I’ll stop.”
“What happened to not wanting to be intimate with me if it’s not going to mean anything,” you exhaled. He was impossibly close now, but you hadn’t told him to stop. Not yet.
His breath teased your lips. “I think we both know now it’s anything but meaningless,” he said. His lips brushed across yours in a whisper of a kiss. “Tell me to stop,” he said again in a final warning, but you both knew you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. All you could do was close the millimeters of distance remaining between you until his mouth was on yours, begging for you to let him in.
So you did. And it was like a sudden summer downpour after a drought. A ray of warm sunlight breaking through the chill of snow clouds. The first blossom unfurling from the ground to signal the true arrival of Spring. It was finally coming home, all encompassing and everything you’d ever needed, a promise of sweetness and new beginnings. And it was over all too soon. 
Bucky broke the kiss, chuckling as you greedily chased after his lips with your own, a pitiful whine escaping them at the loss of contact. “Come back here,” you grumbled, reaching for him to bring him closer, but Bucky leaned away from you. 
“Told you, sweetheart,” Bucky said, pulling down the covers next to him and beckoning for you to join him in the bed, “I’m not gonna have you if I can’t have all of you. Now get in bed.”
Son of a bitch. He wasn’t playing fair. “Not sure how that translates to me getting in bed with you, Barnes,” you said, definitely crossing your arms over your chest. 
Bucky rolled his eyes and picked you up, gently depositing you in the space he’d made for you inside his covers, and you couldn’t help but let out a little squeak. “If you think I’m gonna let you sleep on your own when we have no idea where Carthage is, you’re crazier than I thought,” he said, pulling the sheet and blankets up around you. “Now go to sleep.” 
If you hoped he was going to wrap you in his arms and hold you close while you drifted off, you were in for disappointment. Instead, he left a respectable distance between the two of you, then, checking behind the nightstand to make sure his gun was where he’d left it, turned off the bedside lamp. “G’night, sweets,” he called softly before settling on his side, facing away from you.
“Night, Buck,” you whispered into the dark, more confused than ever before.
<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->
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revehae · 4 months
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day and night (1)
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pairing ↠ jeno x (f) reader x haechan
genre .. warnings ↠ noncon, abduction, use of a gun, bondage, unprotected sex, slapping
summary ↠ haechan is one of the sweetest guys you’ve ever met and a pleasure to tutor, but your perspective of him changes forever when you wake up in a foreign room tied to the bed; and only haechan and his team captain jeno are to blame.
wc ↠ 2.5k
a/n ↠ this is part one of a repost! i don’t have the original banner anymore if it matters pls don’t shoot me. here’s part two
don’t like it, don’t read.
maybe all of the signs had been staring you dead in the face - the shy glances haechan casted you, only to glance off as swiftly as possible the moment you caught him staring. the way he always blushed whenever you praised his efforts or called him smart. how he was always so curious about you, and maybe his cute face and innocent smile had lured you into telling him a little more than you should have.
after all, he was merely a stranger before you agreed to tutor him. just the cute boy in class that did his work and kept quiet, and was only found to be close with his fellow teammates on the baseball team. 
but you thought that it only meant he had an innocent crush on you. never did you imagine that all of it would culminate in this way. that you would wake up in an unfamiliar room with haechan towering above you. 
“you’re awake,” haechan whispered, more inwardly, as if he meant to keep the words inside of his head. 
you glanced around, nothing short of confused. the bedroom was quite clearly not yours. for one, the bed you were lying on is much bigger and comfortable. second of all, it’s so much more decorative, looking more like your ideal bedroom than the one you actually own. it’s filled with your favorite colors, posters of your favorite musical artists, and things alike. almost as if you designed the room yourself. but you knew you didn’t. 
when you tried to sit up, you were forced right back in place. you glanced up and realized that your wrists were bound. the feeling of the rope digging into your skin made you grimace. haechan’s eyes flashed with arm, and he rushed to your side. “is it too tight?” as soon as you nodded, haechan went to loosen the ropes. not enough so that you could free yourself from them, of course, but enough so that it wouldn’t be prying into your skin. “better?” he asked. you gave him another nod, and he sported his signature cute smile. you only wished that you could still trust it.
merely seconds later, haechan made another move. he seemed to be pensive and mull his decision over, taking one step forward, then another back, and then he made a few more forward until he was right at the edge of the bed. he reached for your shorts, and in an instant you realized what he was trying to do. you tried to kick, but he held your legs carefully, trying not to hurt you in spite of your attempts to kick him away. “please don’t do this, haechan,” you whimpered, shaking your head. your throat hurt when you tried to talk and your breath picked up a rapid pace to the point where you almost couldn’t breathe. 
haechan frowned, but he didn’t let up. “i have to - i’m sorry,” he said quietly. 
your brain immediately began to think of reasons why he would have to do something this terrible to you. why he would have to kidnap you and lock you inside of some bedroom, presumably in his house. you had never been. all of the studying sessions took place at yours, and he had all of the time in the world to learn every little thing there was to know about you that made you vulnerable to this kind of situation, simply by paying attention. then, it occurred to you exactly how you had been abducted - belt wrapped around your throat from the backseat of your car, until you eventually lost consciousness. that didn’t seem like haechan’s M.O, though. sure he was stronger than you, that much was obvious from the fact that he was holding your legs in place, but even then, he was gentle. the ambush in your car was anything but, betraying every effort of preserving your comfort that haechan had put forth. and then, it clicked. haechan l wasn’t the one that had kidnapped you.
then, who had?
“did someone put you up to this?” you questioned, trying hard to ignore the burn around your neck. the belt was no longer there, but the pain lingered. as soon as the question left your mouth, haechan seemed to freeze, and you knew by now that that meant you had hit the nail on the head. haechan was merely someone’s partner in crime, but you couldn’t imagine who. someone from the baseball team? i don’t even know anyone else from the baseball team. “who… who, hyuck? you can tell me.”
he only shook his head. “i can’t.” 
you bit your lip. “is it someone from the team? you don’t have to do this, hyuck. you can let me go.”
haechan was still hesitant, but his reluctance didn’t side with you this time. unless, he was telling the cold, hard truth when he replied, “no one forced me to do anything.”
you didn’t want to believe that. it made you sick to your stomach to think that haechan was fully willing to do something like this to you. 
“come on, donghyuck.”
“he’s right,” added another voice, deep enough for you to tell that it obviously didn’t belong to haechan. your vision panned to the doorway, where the last person you thought you’d see appeared - lee jeno, captain of the baseball team. “this was a group effort. teamwork, if you will.”
“jeno…” 
jeno lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers before stepping in the room, “that’s me,” he announced, smiling. it wasn’t sweet or even kind, though of course you were biased in that description; he was the one pulling all of the strings. it was… victorious. like the prideful smiles he sported after winning a championship game, when people would flock towards him with their congratulations and asking him how it felt to be so utterly undefeated. at least then, you thought he was respectable. he never acted as if he carried all of the weight, never forgetting to mention that it was teamwork that rewarded him with a victory. but now he was looking at you as if he had won possession over you, and you felt nauseous. 
jeno glanced at haechan with a displeased look, chiding, “haven’t even gotten the bitch naked yet? what good are you for?”
haechan hung his head and whispered, “sorry.” 
jeno sighed and shook his head, then began to walk towards you. and that was when you began to panic. when you were alone with haechan, you felt a tad bit safer, considering you had at least trusted him at one point and he was gentle with you, but jeno wasn’t like that. you didn’t know him personally, but he worked hard, played hard, and nothing about him was ever soft. he reached for something inside of the bedside drawer, and your eyes went round when you realized that it was a knife. he leaned towards you and shut your eyes, begging, “jeno, please don’t hurt me, please, i’ll do whatever you want.”
the man in question tilted his head. “whatever i want?”
tears rolling down your cheeks, you nodded. your eyes only opened again once you heard something rip and your skin suddenly felt cold. jeno had tore your shirt apart with his knife and the air was hitting your bare skin. your chest heaved as you made eye contact with him, so much fear in yours and so much power in his.
jeno dragged the knife down your abdomen and to your underwear. you held your breath when you felt the cold edge of the knife against your bare skin, and soon it was slitting your underwear open. he wasn’t as careful as haechan, and the only reason his pace was even relatively slow was because he knew it would unnerve you. he asked through thick breath, “will you give me something?”
you gulped, mouth going dry. you knew what he wanted. it was clear as day - what both of them wanted. 
carelessly, jeno threw the broken pieces of fabric somewhere across the floor and ran a finger over your cunt. instantly you squirmed, trying to pry your legs shut, and you managed to land a kick on jeno. “you fucking bitch,” he spat, visibly now upset. he stormed over to the uppermost end of the bed and tightened the ropes around your arms again in punishment, satisfied when you let out a loud noise of pain and discomfort. 
“hurts?” 
you nodded, lips trembling. 
jeno snickered and moved back to the other end of the bed. “good.” 
he shot haechan a look and he swooped over, holding your legs spread. never had you ever felt so helpless and betrayed. you just couldn’t believe that this was happening, couldn’t fathom why it was happening to you.
“i don’t want this,” you croaked, hoping that maybe something could get them to stop. something could deter them and get them to change their mind. 
“i don’t give a fuck what you want,” jeno retorted bluntly. and just like that, the hope vanished. jeno got an idea and said, “haechan, it’s your turn.” 
haechan meandered towards you slowly, almost looking shy. he saw the way your eyes begged and pleaded for mercy and knew that you saw something in him that you didn’t see in jeno, but you weren’t ready to accept how similar they were. that haechan was capable of terrible things, just as much as jeno was.
“i want…” haechan trailed off, looking down at his feet. 
eyebrow arched, jeno urged him on, “you want what?” 
haechan cleared his throat. “i want her to ride me.”
for a second, you were glad that jeno’s teasing wasn’t directed towards you at the moment. he laughed, amused by his teammate’s honesty. “you’re fucking kidding. you hear that, babe? haechan’s so pathetic that he can’t even fuck you. he needs you to do all the fucking work for him.”
then you saw it. the tent in haechan’s pants. as humiliating as the situation was, he was aroused.
jeno walked back to the top side of the bed, then grabbed your jaw and warned, “listen, you little cunt. i’m gonna untie these ropes and you’re going to be on your best behavior or else i’ll have to hurt you - really, really bad. is that what you want?”
rapidly, you shook your head. jeno went to untie the ropes and you felt a little relieved to have your wrists freed, though they still stung. 
“now be a good girl and ride haechan.”
haechan stripped himself of his clothes and simultaneously you of all of your dignity. it was your turn to hesitate: should you cave in to their desires, or resist and possibly make things worse for yourself? it seemed like no matter what you did they always had the upper hand, and your only option was to submit, whether you did it willingly or by force.
“just do what he says. please,” haechan told you, giving you the most pitiful eyes. whether he was telling you that for your sake or for his, you didn’t know anymore. you thought that there was a chance he wasn’t as sick as jeno was, but clearly you were being proven wrong. his hunger for you obviously outweighed any sense of conscience he had, his moral compass broken. and you felt disgusted.
you swallowed to wet your throat. “do you have a condom?” 
“haechan’ll pull out,” jeno said, unperturbed. much unlike you. the last thing you wanted was to have a baby and especially by either of them. “won’t you, haechan?”
haechan’s eyes flickered. “i don’t think…”
jeno repeated more sharply this time, “won’t you, haechan?”
slowly, haechan nods. you didn’t trust it - especially considering jeno had essentially just forced haechan into saying that he’d pull out - but it wasn’t like you had a choice. you couldn’t imagine the things he’d do to you if you resisted. so with all of the strength you could muster, you walked on your knees towards haechan and straddled his crotch, slowly pushing the head of his cock into you. haechan tipped his head back almost immediately, a high-pitched noise escaping his lips. a noise left yours, but it wasn’t one of pleasure. it burned and tears pricked your eyes.
at least you had control over the pace. that was the only thing that you had power over in this entire situation. you weren’t sure how to feel about that.
“good. you’re complying,” jeno remarked, only observing from the sidelines - for now. “don’t know why you’re crying like a fucking bitch. we haven’t even gotten to the best part yet. you should be glad haechan’s such a wimp - i won’t be going so easy on you.”
“shut up,” you hissed. you hadn’t really meant to say it aloud, but it was too late - you already had. and now you were definitely going to suffer the consequences.
anger flashed on jeno’s face in an instant and he didn’t hesitate to reach for your jaw again, forcing you to look at him so rapidly that you thought your neck would snap. “what the fuck did you just say?”
you had never regretted anything quicker. gulping, you swiftly tried to save yourself, “i’m sorry-“ 
the words had hardly left your mouth before the palm of his hand landed against your cheek, and it stung like hell. if you weren’t crying already, you were sobbing now. 
jeno repeated, “i said, what the fuck did you just say to me?” 
you hesitated, but in your best effort to not get hit again, you whispered in the tinest voice, “i said… i said shut up.” 
jeno swung his palm towards your face again and you closed your eyes in preparation, but it never came. you opened your eyes again after a moment, met with the sight of laughing in your face. whether from anger or genuine amusement or a combination of the two, you couldn’t tell.  much to your surprise, he let go of your face, but you should have known that he wouldn’t let you off the hook so easily. the words left his mouth and you gawked when he spoke to haechan, “cum in her.”
“no- no, you can’t!” you yelled to haechan, immediately trying to get away before he got the chance. but you felt something cold against your temple and immediately froze.
“move and i’ll have to coat these pretty walls with your brains. you wouldn’t want that, would you?” jeno asked, holding a firearm to your head. you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything. the fear plaguing you had broken you. it took every bit of strength you had to even shake your head. “wouldn’t have had to do this if you just behaved like i told you to. but since you wanna be a fucking brat, i guess i gotta treat you like one. see this as your punishment.”
when haechan came with a loud cry, filling you to the brim, it wasn’t long before they switched places. and when jeno forcefully bended you over, you knew that you were in for one hell of a ride. 
and it was going to be a long one. 
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hayakawalove · 1 month
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Test of Love
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Chapter One
Summary: Day in and day out, your routine has been exactly the same as a jujutsu sorcerer. You can't complain, honestly. You just wish things were a little more interesting. When you get propositioned by two men, you have no choice but to see what they have going on. Joining a relationship would spice things up, wouldn't it?
A/N: I've had this idea loosely floating around my brain for a bit. Fret not, my short fics will continue but I wanted to write this too. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you!
CW: Slight blood, there's no smut this chapter W/C: 5,560
Credit to @benkeibear for the banner
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‘The clouds part, a ray of sunlight shining down on the pair.’
Your eyes glide over the page, fingers strumming the back of the book. 
“What’re you reading?” Gojo’s voice startles you from the scene you had built in your head based on the words in front of you. 
You jump in your seat, turning to see him leaning against your desk. It was no surprise he was here, he often came and went whenever he pleased. But he could have at least knocked. 
“A Trial of Lovers.” You respond, bringing your eyes back to the words in front of you. 
“Sounds boring.” 
You hum, intent on not paying him any mind. Gojo could be a handful, but he wasn’t that hard to manage once you got to know him. You just learned to tune him out. 
“Why aren’t you paying attention to your students? Reckless of you.” He continues. 
Maybe you wouldn’t be able to ignore him. 
“They’re just studying today.” You say, turning the page. 
The room is quiet besides the two of you, the four students either glued to their textbooks or watching the interaction unfold in front of them. 
“A book can be a weapon. And you have a very talented weapon user in case you were unaware.” 
“Salmon.” Inumaki agrees. He always did like stirring up trouble. 
“What if she tries to kill Yuuta with it?” Gojo says, clearly trying to get a rouse out of you. 
“Maki, are you gonna try killing Yuuta with your textbook?” You ask, keeping your eyes trained down. 
“Not unless he pisses me off.” 
“What?” Yuuta responds. 
You look up at Gojo and smile. 
“Yuuta’s harmless, he wouldn’t piss her off so I think we’re good.” 
“Harmless? I wouldn’t call him that.” Gojo responds. 
“Where are your students?” You accuse. 
He was much more lax with his, often leaving them to fend for themselves when he went on missions. You couldn’t say you blamed him. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice, but still. 
“I sent them out to take care of a second grade. They’ll be fine, Megumi is with them.” 
You clear your throat, eyes focused on the book in front of you even though you were no longer reading. 
“He’s still a child.” Even as you speak, your nerves feel more at ease. If you were to trust any of the students, it would be Megumi. Even if that was the case, you still thought they shouldn’t be left alone. Gojo trusted Megumi which was good, but it bugged you that he may have trusted him a bit too much. Even the greatest sorcerers make mistakes, much less ones that were under 18. 
“And Nobara is just as, if not more violent than Maki. What if she kills Yuuji?” You knew she wouldn’t. 
“She wouldn’t do that.” Gojo responds slyly. 
You slap your book closed and set it on the desk in front of you. 
“What do you want, Gojo?” 
Your eyes flick across his body. His blindfold was on like usual, his ensemble completely put together as it always was. You would pay to see him look unprepared. 
“Are you busy after school?” He smiles, his body relaxed as he stares down at you. 
This was something he always did. Flirt with you, while you ignored his advances. It was the nature of your friendship, it didn’t bother you so much as it might bother someone else. 
“Class, you guys can leave early.” You announce, smiling as you watch them hop out of the room. 
You stand up and face Gojo again. He was wearing a cocky grin, no doubt waiting for your response. He thought you would say yes, even though you denied him every time. You weren’t opposed to going out with him, there were just other factors in the mix. 
“Gojo, in case you forgot you have a boyfriend.” 
Gojo huffs and leans back even more, seemingly prepared for your rejection. 
“I didn’t forget. We’re trying something new. Open relationship. He gets to see who he wants and I can see who I want.” 
The response stuns you a bit. He had never mentioned that before. The offer seemed more appealing at his revelation. You had fun with Gojo, and he was good looking. You just didn’t want to be the reason he was kicked on the streets. 
It seems he knows that he’s wearing you down, his grin showing back up. 
“Come on, let’s just go for a walk around the park. Promise I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that, of course.” 
An image conjures up in your mind before you can stop it. One where he’s on top of you, mouth open as he nibbles on your neck. You shake your head, trying to rid the naughty thought as best as you could. You awkwardly chuckle and grab your things, following him out the door. A walk would be harmless, wouldn’t it? 
The weather graced you today it seems, as clear skies shine above you and an acceptable temperature wraps around your body. You were at a park near the school, one that had lots of families and several street vendors. 
You actually were hungry. And Gojo being Gojo decided to jump at the opportunity to buy something sweet, assuring you that he would buy your food as well. 
While you wait, you find a lonely bench sitting in the middle of the park. It’s surrounded by large trees, trees much older than you. It’s refreshing to be out of the school for once. You can’t remember the last time you spent a normal day out in society. 
You loved your job, but it could be exhausting at times. 
“Order up!” Gojo’s cheery voice interrupts your thoughts. 
He’s holding two crepes. One with fruit, the other with chocolate. 
“We can share if you want.” He says, holding the fruit one out to you, mouth darting out to bite into his. 
You smile up at him and grab the treat, eyes flicking over the colors that lit up the food. When you take a bite you taste berries melting with whip cream, the flavor swirling around your mouth. 
“This is really good Gojo, thank you.” 
He offers a serene smile as he takes another bite of his crepe while sitting next to you. Chocolate decorates his lip and you giggle in response. He almost looked childish. It suited him, in a way. People might say he was immature, which wouldn’t really be wrong, but a part of you knew he grew up too fast. 
You make idle chatter as you watch families fill in the park. You spent so much time around sorcerers, you often forgot what it was like to be near normal people. Their carefree attitudes lit up your heart, putting your mind at ease. 
This is what you’re doing it for, this is why you fight. You remind yourself as you watch a toddler topple over before getting right back up, a grin across his face. 
“It’s weird, right?” You find yourself saying. 
You haven’t finished your crepe yet, but Gojo has been done with his for awhile; focusing on the brown syrup that muddled his fingers. 
He hums as he licks his finger, looking up in front of him. 
“The families. The smiles. The people.” 
You don’t have to elaborate, Gojo knows exactly what you mean. Sorcerers rarely have families and rarely smile. Their lifestyles were much different than yours. Your stomach turns as you wait for his response. 
“Yeah, I mean I guess so. It’s not much weirder than sorcerers.” 
You didn’t really expect him to feel the same way as you. He may look like an average man, but he wasn’t. While you couldn’t relate to average people, he couldn’t relate to anyone. Not people or sorcerers. 
Lonely, you thought. You wonder if the feeling keeps him up late at night. 
“Thank you for taking me out. This is nice.” You settle, attempting to divert your attention from the macabre. 
Gojo leans back, kicking his long legs out in front of him. His arms spread out on the bench, head facing the sky. He always took up so much space, not that you minded. You figured the world was too small for him, so you didn’t mind making more room. 
“It is, isn’t it?” 
You offer up a bite of your crepe which he gladly accepts, swallowing before saying he preferred his more. 
“I actually had something I wanted to bring up. You’ll learn about it later in the next meeting, but I figured I’d tell you now.” 
Your head perks up in interest, your attention completely on him. 
“There’s been a slew of random attacks at the school.” 
The words sink in your chest, creating a pool in your stomach. The school? That was your sacred place. Your home. It was all you had. 
“The school? I haven’t heard anything.” 
“Not really at the school, more so around it. They’ve been happening at frequent intervals the past week all within 5 miles of the school. It’s all been small attacks. But it definitely is something. One wouldn’t be a big deal, but with the amount that’s been happening… someone is definitely targeting Jujutsu High. Not enough to actually destroy it but enough to peak our interest.” 
As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. It wouldn’t have mattered if it only happened a couple of times, but there was a pattern. Someone was clearly focusing on the school. 
“What does it mean?” 
Gojo taps his foot, his head in the clouds. If anyone knew what it was about, it would be him. 
“I’m not sure. It’s been relatively easy to handle so far. I’m just worried about the fact it draws our attention away. The more people we send out to watch the border means the less available sorcerers we’ll have. I don’t like it.” 
He rarely sounds serious, but you’re able to pick up on the dark underlying tone in the way he’s talking right now. He didn’t seem too stressed out, maybe inconvenienced at best. It wasn’t like there was much you could do at the current moment anyway. 
You finish your crepe, the mood dramatically shifting after the conversation. You hate to see Gojo like this, his mind swarmed with thoughts and unable to focus on anything else. 
“So, tell me about your boyfriend.” 
Gojo raises his head and looks at you, one of his eyebrows shooting up. 
“Weird thing to bring up on a date.” 
You scoff and nudge your foot against his. 
“If I’m gonna be apart of this I wanna know more about you.” 
Gojo’s eyes flick up as if in deep thought. You didn’t know much about his boyfriend. He and Gojo were longtime friends, having gone to Jujutsu High together. Over the years you learned he was the more responsible of the two. You also learned about his cursed technique. Rare and strong, curse manipulation. You were intrigued by the idea. Using what you fight against to help you, it was nothing short of incredible. 
“He’s nice. Almost too nice. He understands people more than me. Really strong too. A bit stern.” 
You keep your gaze focused on the side of Gojo’s face. You don’t spend much time looking at him normally, so you take advantage of the closeness you have right now to appreciate him. His white eyelashes flutter as he looks at the sky, bright pink lips parted as he speaks. 
Handsome, he was so very handsome. 
As the two of you were in public he decided to forego his blindfold and instead use a pair of sunglasses. His hair lay messy atop his head, but it still looked good. 
He cracks a grin as he notices you staring. 
“See something you like?” 
You quickly turn forward, the act of being caught embarrassing you. The only thing worse than an attractive man was a man who was attractive and knew it. 
“He sounds nice. Nicer than you.” You say, hoping to annoy him. 
Instead, Gojo lets out a quiet sigh. 
“He is.” 
It was odd to see him like this. Gojo cared for people, he wasn’t a robot, but he rarely admired them. With the few conversations you had with him you were able to tell he admired his boyfriend, he really loved him. 
Your lips part as you start to ask Gojo what his boyfriend's name was, but his phone cuts you off. 
Gojo clicks his tongue and looks down, noting a text from Yaga. 
“Can’t even leave for a few hours.” He complains under his breath. 
You know he’s trying to put on a show, but you can’t help but feel bad. He was right. He never had time to himself, always being forced into doing something or the other for the higher ups. His life wasn’t truly his own. 
Your relationship with Gojo was complicated. You liked to tease him, but deep down you knew he always got the shit end of the stick. 
You stand up, swiping your hands on your pants. It was starting to get hot out, your hair sticking to your neck.  You reach a hand out to Gojo, wordlessly offering help. 
He smirks at your hand, looking over the top of his glasses. 
“Cute.” 
You tear your hand away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction if he was just going to tease you. 
“Hey! What if I need help getting up?” 
“Stand up yourself, worlds strongest sorcerer.” You mumur, stepping away to start walking towards the school. 
Gojo whines behind you before jumping up, jogging towards you. The rest of the walk goes by fast, the both of you teasing each other back and forth. One of the good things about Gojo, although there were many (not that you would admit it), was that he was incredibly fun to talk to. As long as you were in the mood, of course. 
Your body chills when you step inside the school. The air conditioning soothes your skin the second you get inside. 
“You’re back.” Yaga says, looking down, shuffling papers back and forth. 
“Sadly.” Gojo responds. 
“What were you two up to?” 
“A date.” Gojo says confidently. 
You train your face to say neutral but you feel your blood simmer. You weren’t exactly planning on telling Yaga, but of course Gojo wouldn’t keep it to himself. 
“And Geto?” Yaga asks. 
Geto. That was Gojo’s boyfriend's name. His last name anyway. You wanted to know what his first name was, that’s what you were planning on asking before Yaga texted. 
“He’s aware.” 
Yaga heaves out a breath, used to Gojos antics by now. Anything that could be weird by someone else’s standards was considered normal if Gojo was the one doing it. 
“I need you to finish this paperwork before going home tonight. And don’t make someone else do it for you.” Yaga hands you both a stack of papers, aiming the last half of the sentence to Gojo. 
You knew it wouldn’t take you long, as long as Gojo didn’t attempt to get you to do his for him. Even if he asked nicely you were going to refuse. You had plans tonight. You needed to go to the book store to get the second book to the one you were reading this morning. 
It takes you two hours and your fingers are sore by the time you’re done, but you manage to finish all your paperwork. Halfway through you had to lock Gojo out so you could focus. You had fun on your date, but tonight was your night. A man wasn’t going to get in the way of that. 
~~~
You weren’t sure what happened to the weather. This morning when you were with Gojo it was bright and sunny, but now the sky was littered with clouds. You didn’t mind it, in fact you preferred it. When you were reading you much preferred for it to rain, finding it way more soothing. 
The bookstore was empty today, except for a couple of people that hid out in the shelves. You liked it here. It made you feel somewhat normal. There were no sorcerers, curses, or villains here. Just books. 
You had no plans for the rest of the night, besides having you time, so you decide to find the book you’re looking for to read there. There were chairs littered throughout the building, each soft and worn down after years of use. 
Curling up on a chair, you open your book and dive into it. The words capture all your attention as you grip the front and back of the book. It’s much better than the first, you think. The author has such a way with words. You’re so engrossed you don’t notice a man approaching you. 
He sits on the chair in front of yours, his own book nestled in his lap.
“That’s a good book,” he says. 
You look up to find a man sitting in front of you. He looked perfect. There wasn’t flaw on his body. 
Long black hair that was pulled up in a bun, caramel eyes trained on you as he wore a small smile. 
Normally, you would be pissed off that someone was breaking the bookstore code ‘no talking’, but you weren’t. You were drawn in. 
“It is.” You respond, trying to look away from him but finding yourself incapable. 
“I love the author, I finished all his books so I was here looking for something else.” 
You think you could listen to him speak forever, the way his voice rolls out from his lips causes your body to relax. 
“Me too, once I finish this then I’ll be done.” 
His smile spreads wider. Your stomach turns under his gaze. 
“I’m afraid I haven’t found any stories as interesting as his.” He continues. “I really liked his use of butterflies in that book though. Very beautiful.” 
You bite your lip and tear your eyes away if only for a second to gain control. 
“Me too.” 
He watches the way you fiddle with the book in your lap. 
“My name is Suguru, what’s yours?” 
You take a deep breath before telling him your name. Normal girls would be scared of a stranger talking to them, but you weren’t normal. You were sure if it came down to it you would be able to take care of him. After all, there were very few people stronger than you, and you were on a date with one of them earlier. 
You weren’t scared of Suguru, you were captivated by him. 
His smile morphs into something more calming after you speak. It sends fireworks off in your stomach. 
“You have a lovely name.” 
You clear your throat before darting your eyes away, unable to look at him any longer. 
“Thank you.” You murmur, fiddling with your outfit. 
After work you had gone home to switch clothes, wanting something more comfortable. You were glad you did, as the clothes you wore now were much more flattering. A loose sweater with yoga pants, perfect for lounging about while you read. 
“I didn’t mean to interrupt you, I apologize. I just saw what you were reading.” 
“It’s okay, is this your first time here? I’ve never seen you before.” 
Suguru wets his bottom lip, and you have to pry your eyes away from it. 
“It is. Normally I go to a bookstore in the next town over, but it’s under renovations so I decided to come here. It’s not far from my boyfriends work.” 
Ah. 
There it is. 
You don’t know why you expected anything different. Part of you was hoping he might be hitting on you. You did go on a date with Gojo earlier, but it wasn’t anything serious. 
“What do you do for work?” You ask. 
“I’m a freelancer.” 
Vague, you think. 
“And you?” 
There’s no way you can tell him you’re a jujutsu sorcerer so you settle on something close enough. 
“I’m a teacher.” 
“Noble, I like it.” 
The rain beats down on the roof of the book store, water running down the windows making it hard to see outside. It’s calming, Suguru is calming. You keep your gaze focused on him as the two of you talk. At first you were almost intimidated, but you were slowly getting used to the heat of his gaze. 
“I enjoyed the butterflies as well. It’s a shame we don’t have them around here. I’d love to watch them like they did in the book.” You say. 
“It’s probably because of all the people. There are places you can go to see them, would you be interested?” 
You pause and stare at him. Was that… A date invitation? 
It wasn’t, there was no way. 
Maybe he meant it in a friendly way. 
“What about your boyfriend? I would love to, but I just want to make sure before I agree.” 
You’d hate to get the wrong idea. 
“He’ll be okay with it. I can ask though if you want me to.” 
You fiddle with your shirt and watch as he pulls out his phone. Suguru types a quick message, not even a second later his phone vibrates with an answer. 
He turns the screen towards you, letting you read the words. 
Suguru: I’m gonna go on a date with this girl from the book store
Asshole: Alright
Asshole: Is she hot? 
Suguru: She’s beautiful 
Your heart stutters at the compliment, your curiosity slightly piqued at the name in his phone. Asshole? Maybe that wasn’t that weird. 
“Would you be free tomorrow?” He asks while sliding his phone away.
“Yeah, as long as it’s after I get off.”
“Nice, I can pick you up or we can meet here?” 
You trusted him, but you wanted to get to know him more before bringing him back to your house. 
“Let’s meet here?” 
“Okay. What’s your number?” 
You give him your number and he shares his. It’s close to closing time once you finish so you decide to head home, the encounter with Suguru still fresh on your mind. 
He seemed normal. Not in a bad way, but normal nonetheless. You mostly interacted with sorcerers, so going on a date with someone who wasn’t one felt weird. You wouldn’t have to be worried about work or anything else. You would be able to have average conversations. 
You couldn’t wait. 
~~~
You feel giddy when you wake up the next day. Your date would be later in the afternoon and you were having a hard time containing yourself. All you had to do was get by the day, which wouldn’t be hard. There was a small mission you had to take Inumaki and Panda on, but after that you would be free. 
As you stood there you watched the two of them work, paying attention to their form so you could give pointers after. It donned on you how odd it really was. 
If Suguru asked you what you did today were you supposed to tell him you fought monsters with a personified panda? 
Yeah, you would have to keep that to yourself. 
You would have been able to keep it all to yourself, that is until Panda accidentally scratches you with his paw, causing blood to leak from your cheek. You lecture him to pay attention to his surroundings as the red liquid pours from your face. It takes the rest of the ride home for it to stop bleeding, and the throbbing pain doesn’t go away. You were gonna have to figure out how to explain that to Suguru. 
The second the work day is done, you’re rushing home to put together your outfit. Suguru didn’t tell you really what to wear, only advising that it should be something light as you would be spending time outside. You settle on a flowy dress that cut off above your knees, you actually felt cute. 
You leave your house early, intent on arriving before Suguru to make a good impression. Unfortunately for you, it seems Suguru had the same plan. 
You check your phone, you had arrived ten minutes early and Suguru was already leaning against the bookstore, looking comfortable as he slouches. 
“I’m sorry! Were you waiting long?” 
Suguru looks up from his phone at the sound of your voice. His eyes drag across your figure, the action making the hair on your neck stand on edge. Those eyes. Were you ever going to get used to them? 
His lips quirk up in a small smile, putting his phone away. He was wearing a black shirt with black sweatpants, his hair half up, the top pinned behind his head. 
“No, I just got here,” 
You find that hard to believe. 
“You look amazing.” He finishes. 
You try to stave off the embarrassment, waving your hand. When Suguru walks up to you, you finally notice how huge he is. He was tall, with a structure that took your breath away. 
You wonder what he did to stay in shape. 
“What happened to your cheek?” His voice is dripping with concern, brows furrowed as he raises his hand up. His thumb brushes on the skin below your cut. 
“Oh! Um, one of my students was a bit reckless today. It didn’t hurt all that much.” 
His eyes dance across your face, digesting your answer before dropping his hand. He looked genuinely concerned. It was cute. He must’ve been the protective type. 
“I see. I’m sorry that happened.” He sounds remorseful even though he wasn’t the one to cause it. “Are you ready?” 
And with that the two of you set off. Suguru told you he was showing you a place with butterflies, and you weren’t quite sure what he meant by that. Excitement bubbles in your veins as you walk. 
The entire time he spoke you couldn’t help but put all your undivided attention on him. He was magnetizing. A natural born speaker, you thought. 
Suguru must notice your silence as he stops himself from talking. 
“My bad, I’m rambling.” 
“No! Not at all. I like listening, you have a soothing voice.” 
“Well thank you.” Pink dust settles on his cheeks. 
As you inch closer to your destination, your fingers brush against his, the movement causing your heart to race. 
Would it be weird to ask him if you could hold his hand? 
“We’re here.” Suguru stops in front of a building. It was a bit unassuming, grey concrete walls and few windows. 
There were butterflies here? 
Suguru notices your expression and chuckles. 
“Trust me.” 
You can’t find it in your heart to doubt him. 
He leads you inside, walking up to the front desk where a middle aged woman is standing by a computer. Her eyes are kind, hands weathered as she types. 
“Can we get two tickets for the observatory?” 
You fidget behind Suguru, appreciating the length of his hair cascading down his back. 
You kind of wanted to touch it. 
“Of course! Here you go sweetheart.” The lady digs around, grabbing two tickets while Suguru pulls out cash. 
The exchange is over as soon as it started, and Suguru is leading you down a long hallway. When he pushes the doors open at the end of it, you’re greeted by fresh air, a short path leading to a giant glass dome. It’s hard to see on the inside of it, but it looks like it’s filled with plants. 
“Let’s go.” He says with a grin, reaching his hand out towards you. 
Your heart skips a beat at the gesture. You grab his hand, interlacing your fingers together. He’s warm. His palm the perfect mix between soft and calloused. His long fingers don’t get past your attention either. Suguru pulls you along to the dome, holding the door open for you. 
When you step inside you’re hit with an overwhelming fragrance. It smelled like a mix between soil and flowers, the sweet scent covering you completely. 
It’s nothing short of amazing. There’s plants everywhere, you had never been to a jungle before but you were sure this is what it would look like. 
“Suguru, this is…” 
“Look!” He urges, pointing up. 
You snap your head up, following the direction of his finger. Above you was a small colony of monarch butterflies, maybe twenty of them flying around. They were low enough that you were able to appreciate the brightness of their wings, orange hues darting around as they flew. 
Your lips part in amazement and you’re unable to tear your gaze away. You were sure you had never seen anything this beautiful before. 
“Amazing, right?”
Suguru’s smooth voice floats over to you, snapping you back to him. When you turn around to look at him, his eyes are already on you. His mouth is spread in a soft grin, eyes twinkling as he looks down at you. 
“This is perfect, Suguru. How did you find this place?”
“After I read the book we were talking about I just had to know what it felt like to be surrounded by butterflies so I did some digging and found it. I come here every so often, although it’s been awhile since I have. I figured it would be more fun if I brought someone with me. I was right.” His eyes are glued on your smile as you look away, following the butterflies with your eyes. 
You find a walkway and set a slow pace, stopping every so often to read the metal plaques that were placed about, explaining the different types of flora and butterflies. You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. Your chest swelled with joy as you went on, listening as Suguru read you the plaques. 
“It really is magical, just like it was in the book. Thank you.” You can’t hide the vulnerability from your voice. 
Suguru’s eyes crinkle when he smiles, a cute habit you noticed, and he squeezes your hand. 
“Of course, thank you for joining me.” 
The two of you spend several hours there, a leisurely pace set between you. It was hard to want to go home when you knew the world outside was this beautiful. You wonder if colors will seem dull compared to this place. You were betting on it. 
When families begin to filter in you both decide to head out. You were glad kids were gonna experience the same joy you had, but you wanted more privacy with Suguru, even if you had to go home soon. If you could spend more time with him, you would. Unfortunately duty calls and you had work early in the morning, effectively cutting your date much shorter than you would have liked. 
Much like yesterday's date. 
You agree to let him walk you back home, if only to spend as much time together as possible. He never let go of your hand ever since the observatory, and you were grateful for it. His large palm provided some sense of protection, relief you didn’t know you needed. 
Your apartment comes into view far quicker than you were hoping. You could have lived on campus, but you instead opted to find a place elsewhere. Jujutsu High was your home, but you wanted to be able to separate yourself from it occasionally. You were able to find an apartment for a decent price, only staying there to sleep and change. Every so often when it was too late, you crashed in a dorm at the school, but you made sure to keep those occurrences low. 
“This is it.” You sigh out, turning to face Suguru. 
“I had fun today.” He stops and looks down at you, his body relaxed as he addresses you. 
“I did too! Maybe we can hang out again sometime?” 
Kiss me, kiss me, you internally beg. 
Your eyes focus on the way his lips morph as he talks. 
“I’d love that.” 
Please, kiss me. 
Suguru keeps your hand in his as he leans down, placing his lips gently on your forehead. 
Oh. 
That was different, yet it made your heart beat faster than a normal kiss would have. The intimacy of it all struck you like a freight train. No one had given you a forehead kiss before. His lips linger for a moment, before he’s pulling away all too soon. 
“I’ll call you?” 
Your throat squeezes as you try to force words out, but you’re all too flustered. 
“I’ll be waiting.” You say, trying to seem cool. 
Suguru chuckles softly before letting go of your hand. Your palm feels chilly the second he lets go. You’ll see him again, you remind yourself. Hopefully. 
You force yourself to make your way to your door, body trembling in excitement. It felt like you took all the butterflies home with you, their wings fluttering inside your chest as you close the door behind you. After a couple of deep breaths you’re able to cool down, although you still felt a tingle on your forehead where his lips were. 
Two dates in two days, not too bad. 
Hopefully the momentum will stay strong.
As you get ready for bed, you replay the events of the past two days over in your head, your heart swelling with exhilaration. When you drift off to sleep, your dreams are filled with crepes and butterflies. 
Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @constawrites
If you want to be added to the taglist just let me know, please specify if you want to be added for all my works or just this fic
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yutaleks · 2 months
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Don’t look @ me for this I’m sorry. Blame Twitter user kenkaru86 for putting yuuta & piss kink on my brain for the last week. Tagging @zorosdimples my fellow piss enjoyer
CW: piss, oral m!receving, forward!gn!reader. Length 1.3K. Banner @/cafekitsune
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“Here?”
Yuuta’s voice is shaky as he watches you sink to your knees amongst guts and grime. You’re both covered in ooze, the gorey aftermath of a rather tricky semi-special grade curse lurking in this abandoned building, once a factory of some sort. Though Yuuta was more than capable of exterminating this curse on his own, he was never opposed to your company. And watching you fight was… well, he’d be the first to admit you’re an incredible force of nature, at the very least.
Despite the difficulty, the two of you made it out of the fight mostly unscathed, except for a few cuts and scrapes that Yuuta will heal for you on the way back. But where Yuuta comes out of it feeling tired, you’re always the opposite; invigorated by the fight, incensed by bloodlust, adrenaline. Muscles itching for something more, something to help mute the buzzing of cursed energy that leaves your body feeling haywire.
Maybe that’s why he insists on being your partner for missions, actually. Because right when the fight is over, you’re begging for an outlet… and he’s always willing to be that for you.
It’s seconds after the curse explodes into a violet, sticky puddle of gore that you drag him into the nearest bathroom, its surfaces grimy and tinted with dirt and mold, that you tug at his waistline and look up at him with pupils so wide he can’t even make out the color of your irises.
“Yes, here,” you reply, a giggle on your lips as you tug in the strings of his white cotton belt. You can feel him through his dark jeans, how despite his floundering he’s already half hard for you. “Cmon Yuuta.”
“B-but,” he looks around the tiled room, rather concerned with the state of the grime on the floor. “What if,”
“We cased the whole building. You know no one’s here.”
He backs up against the wall as the sound of you pulling down his zipper echoes in the small bathroom. You rub the palm of your hand against the bulge in his briefs and he shudders, sighing loudly.
“But Ijichi-san’s outside, the veil’s probably down by now, and—”
“Yuuta.”
You muster up the most watery eyes you can as you blink up at him. It’s almost laughable how quickly his tense shoulders sag, how the breath held so tightly in his chest dissipates.
“Please Yuuta? I want you so bad—don’t you want me too?”
He brushes the ichor away from your pretty face. He’d kiss you if you weren’t so far from his lips.
“I can never say no to you,”
“I know,” you smile. That devilish grin still paints your lips when you finish pushing down his pants and his briefs, fiendish and hungry stare on what you desire most.
Your hand wraps around his length, guiding it to your lips. As you suck on the tip, Yuuta’s head falls back against the tiled wall. It’s hard to look at you when you’re the one on your knees; he knows if he looks down at you he’ll cum before you’re even satisfied. You like the challenge: him trying not to cum, while you’re trying to make him cum.
You always win but, that’s beside the point.
Your tongue teases the bottom of his tip as you suck on it, and Yuuta doesn’t know what to do with his hands—for a while, as you begin to bob your head, he struggles with opening and closing his fists. You hear him moan, the sound amplified by the echoing off the walls.
“God—wait—” he huffs when you pull off, planting sloppy, wet kisses to his cock. “Wait—”
“What is it?” You flatten your tongue, rubbing it against the base, tracing the vein underneath with a look in your eyes that could give a succubus a run for her money.
“I, um,” he starts blushing, red to the tips of his ears. “I’m sorry, if you keep going I’ll—”
“Cum? Baby that’s the point,” you press his tip to your lips and blow on it. Truly horrible for his resolve.
“No—fuck, no,” he shudders again when you dip your tongue into hip tip, tasting the salty taste of his precum. “I—I have to pee.”
“So pee.”
There’s something very gratifying about the look of horror on his face when you suggest such a thing. What’s so bad about piss anyway? Bear Grylls did it, and he’s surely never battled a curse. You can drink a little piss.
“I can’t possibly—”
“Just let go, don’t think about it.”
“I can’t do that to you,”
“I want it,” you hum, every word vibrating against his cock. “You’d give me anything I wanted wouldn’t you, Yuuta? Cause you love me soooo much? Please?”
He covers his reddening face with his hands, flustered. But he doesn’t stop you when you take his cock past your lips, sucking on it, this time no longer teasing but with full intent to make him cum. Though he hides his eyes behind a forearm, you feel a hand on your head, guiding you. You take him deeper, cheered on by the lovely sounds of his broken moans.
You feel his thighs start to tense up and he exhales desperately, “I can’t hold it I’m sorry—”
He doesn’t think he’s felt more embarrassed in his life than he does right now, knowing that he can’t control the feeling. Despite his hand on your head trying to push at you, you hold onto his thighs, cementing your body in place. With shame swimming in his gut, he can’t hold back—he still feels the warmth of your mouth around him when he starts to feel himself pee.
And he can’t bear to look down. He doesn’t want to find out if you swallow or spit it out, so he keeps his eyes shut until it’s over, until the pressure in his bladder is gone and the tightness in his shoulders fades away.
You’re relentless though—when he finally opens his eyes he looks down and sees you, taking him deeper in your throat. You hollow your cheeks and relax your jaw. Yuuta’s already so close that when he looks down at you, it only takes a few thrusts into your hot, wet throat to finish him off. He groans as he spills into your throat, and you swallow gleefully when he pulls out, spit webbing between your mouth and his tip in a lewd display of affection.
Despite your shaky breaths your smiling, victorious.
“Did you… did you swallow that?” He asks between breaths, incredulous.
“Why don’t you kiss me and find out?”
Yuuta would never turn down an invitation to kiss you—so he joins you in kneeling on the ground, and shoves his tongue so far down your throat it can barely be called kissing.
“What do you think?” You ask him when he pulls away, amusement in your voice.
“You—”
Before he can finish his sentence, you’re broken out of the moment with the loud sound of his cellphone ringing. He hesitates to answer, looking you over with a thousand words in his gaze. before sighing and reaching into his pocket.
“Ijichi-san,” he answers, looking at you. You’re laughing, barely containing it behind a hand over your lips. “Sorry we got lost. We’ll be out right away.”
Yuuta quickly hangs up the call. And you expect him to lead you out, find Ijichi, and spend the next hour apologizing for making him wait. He’s polite to a fault, after all.
But after you stand, Yuuta instead lifts you up onto the nearby sink, pressing your back to the broken mirror above it.
“Yuuta?”
“It’s only fair,” he pouts, placing your ankles on his shoulders. “I’ll be quick.”
“No you won’t,”
He kisses you again, folding you in half atop the sink, your kiss still bitter and salty.
“I’ll try.”
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mrworldwideshoulders · 10 months
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all the wrong places || reader x myg
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After getting separated from your friends during a night out, you get stuck with a hefty bill – one that you can’t pay. So when a handsome, emotionless stranger covers your tab in a random act of kindness, you’re determined to track him down and pay him back. inspired by 24K Magic by Bruno Mars.
‣ Pairing: reader x yoongi (dual pov; feat. JK and Jimin) ‣ WC: 6.1k ‣ Genre: slight angst, fluff, strangers to lovers ‣ Warnings: alcohol consumption, reader and jimin joke about her being an alcoholic 🤪 (psa fr tho, please drink responsibly), credit card debt, yoongi (gently) manhandles the reader, bouncer!jungkook and his tattoos, jeon jungkook being freaking annoying, unrealistic scenarios that could only happen in a fic (is it fate, or is it just fanfiction?), reader in her dumb bitch era (said lovingly) ‣ a/n: same yoongi from my fics bang bang and give me novacaine; different y/n tho. i’d def recommend checking those two out first (though for this one i don’t think you really have to unless you’d like more backstory). i like this fic a lot and i think it’s cute so i hope you enjoy it too! as always, bannered and beta’d by the amazing april aka @onmypillow-onmytable​, plus credit for the general idea of this story! 😘 thx! ly – robyn ‣ P.S. I do not own BTS, their likenesses, or the music of Bruno Mars, they just inspire me.
part of the 24k magic collection (masterlist)
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This might actually be the worst night of your life. Or at the very least, one of the most embarrassing ones. 
Your friends, who were supposed to be splitting the bar tab with you, have all but evaporated into thin air, and you’re so far gone you can’t even remember when you saw them last. And it’s starting to dawn on you, as your credit card declines for the third time, that you may have overdone it – in more ways than one. Declining once, that’s normal. Two times, that’s just bad luck. Three times declined, however, that’s just embarrassing. If there were ever a time you wished you were more proactive about budgeting and keeping your credit card paid off, it would be now. It’s not the end of the world, of course. You just won’t get your credit card back tonight, and you’ll have to come all the way back over here to retrieve it at some point – after you go home and recover enough of your senses to pay off some of the balance on your card. But going without your credit card for any length of time makes you anxious for some reason, and having to come back over here just for that doesn’t particularly fit into your already busy schedule. 
“Are you sure you don’t have another card?” The bartender that’s trying to close out your tab looks at you pointedly as you’re rummaging through your bag. You can feel the weight of his judgmental gaze all over you.
“No, but, listen,” you ramble, face hot with a mixture of shame and too much alcohol. “I wasn’t supposed to be the one paying for everything. My friends, they stuck me with the bill, and I really need—”
“Sounds like you don’t have very good friends.” He stares you down unsympathetically. “Either cough up or get out.”
“Can’t you just…give me my card back?” you manage helplessly. You feel tears of frustration starting to form behind your eyes. “I’ll come back and pay you tomorrow. I’m good for it. Really. I just have to—” Rearrange my entire bank account, pay off my credit card, reevaluate my whole life, and promise to stick to a budget from here on out, no matter how much Jimin and Nayeon want to go out drinking. Yeah. That’ll last about a week.  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” grumbles a low, irritated voice from behind you. You turn to find a man dressed completely in black, with dark eyes and an expressionless face shrouded under a heavy curtain of black hair. He hands the bartender a sleek black card. “Here. Will you leave her alone now? Go back to pretending to do your job or something.” Your eyes widen. Who is this guy? And what is he doing? 
The bartender eyes you sullenly and hands you back your card. You turn to the man to thank him, but he’s already walking away, being swallowed up by the crowd. “Hey!” you call. “Wait up!” You push clumsily after him, jostling people left and right as you try to catch up with him. He’s at the front door before you’re finally able to tap him on the shoulder. 
“Now what?” he snaps.
“I just wanted to thank you,” you say breathlessly, taken aback by his brusque reply. “For what you did back there. I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate it. I was about to cry because of that guy, and then you just appeared out of nowhere to save the day. You must be my guardian angel or something.” 
He lets out a bitter chuckle. “Trust me, I’m no angel.”
Your cheeks seem to flush all over again and you almost forget the other reason you chased after him in the first place. “Oh! Money! I can repay you.”
His face doesn’t change. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal.” 
“But…it’s money.” Your face falls in disbelief. “Of course it’s a big deal. And I don’t like owing people anything. Especially money.” 
“Well, I’m not big on people feeling like they owe me anything either.” He shrugs. “So consider it forgotten. And stop following me.” He pushes through the front doors and out onto the street. 
You start after him again, but you stumble on your way out the door, falling almost directly into the bouncer’s well-muscled arms, one of which is adorned in a full sleeve of tattoos that recedes under the sleeve of his black t-shirt. “Careful,” he says, steadying you on your feet. 
“Um – thank you,” you manage. “That guy I was following. Did you see where he went?”
“Down there.” He points you toward the taxi stand. “He’s not bothering you, is he?”
“No, it’s just – I need to talk to him, but he keeps running away from me.” You march wobbily toward the man from before. “Hey! You!”
He sighs resignedly and turns around. “Do you make a habit of following random men out of nightclubs?”
“Only when they do me favors and won’t let me pay them back.” You plant yourself in front of him, arms crossed. 
“Look, I told you not to worry about it.” He scowls. “Do you really want to do something for me? Go home, pay your credit card bill, and forget you ever met me. You’ll only hurt yourself if you don’t.” 
“Suppose I don’t want to.” You gaze defiantly into his eyes. “Is that a threat?” 
“No. It’s a warning. I’d listen if I were you.” A taxi pulls up, and he grabs you by the arm, firmly, but loose enough that you could break away if you needed to, and pushes you inside. “Go home.” The door slams, leaving him standing there on the sidewalk. 
“Well?” says the driver impatiently. “Where to?”
You stammer out your address, still too stunned to think about anything else. Who was that guy? And what was that about a warning? He doesn’t seem like a bad person – why else would he have paid a stranger’s bar tab? 
Forget you ever met me. You’ll get hurt if you don’t. 
Why did he say that? You don’t know why, and you’re still far too drunk to figure it out tonight, but one thing is for certain. 
You’re going to track him down. And you’re going to pay him back.
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Jungkook whistles as Yoongi heads back toward him. “That was a close one.” 
“Too close,” mutters Yoongi. “She could have blown the whole thing.” 
“What did you do, anyway? Weren’t you supposed to be blending in?” 
Yoongi shrugs. “The bartender was harassing her about her tab and her card wouldn’t go through, so I paid it for her. She wanted to repay me.” He thinks back to the look on your face, like you were about to burst into tears at any moment. A strange, unfamiliar surge of protectiveness in his chest, one that he hadn’t felt since he’d recruited Jungkook all those years ago. ”I told her she didn’t have to, but.”
“Aww.” Jungkook slaps Yoongi good-naturedly on the shoulder. “See, hyung? You’re a good guy after all.” 
“Hah,” he scoffs under his breath. “No. I’ve just gotten soft, that’s all. I’ll probably regret it in a day or two. No good deed goes unpunished and all that.”
“You say ‘soft’ like it’s a bad thing.” 
“Maybe not, maybe so.” Yoongi sighs, running a hand through his hair. “We should get back to work. We’ll stick around here until closing, then debrief in the morning.” 
“All right.” Jungkook nods, resuming his post near the front doors, despite the sidewalk in front of the club now empty at one o’clock, an hour before closing. “I’ll be here.” 
Yoongi heads back inside, his head still filled with thoughts of you, that defiant expression on your face when you’d asked him what would happen if you refused to forget him. Anyone else would have just accepted this good deed and carried on as if nothing had even happened, or worse, they would have screamed at him, told him he was overstepping and a creep, to fuck off and leave them alone. Why hadn’t you screamed at him? He’d even grabbed you, a stranger – and a woman – by the arm to push you into the cab. Yoongi knew for sure he’d overstepped there. You just didn’t do that when you were a man, not in this day and age – especially not when you were a man with a past like his. Even someone as supposedly stupid as he was knew that much. Why, he wondered, were you so intent on repaying him? Had no one ever done anything nice for you before? Purely for the hell of it, never expecting anything in return? The two of you must have something in common, then. No one had ever done anything like this for him – with the exception of Hoseok – but that was different. Hoseok was his friend, for one thing, and didn't understand the concept of taking no for an answer. At least Yoongi knew to just say thank you and get on with his life, instead of trying to push it. A chuckle rises in the back of his throat before he can stop it, and he swallows it down almost as quickly as it came, shoving aside the thoughts of you along with it. 
He tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he forges back into the depths of the club. There was something about you, something that made you want to insist upon repaying a random man that had just done you a favor, something innocent, idealistic, even, that made him want to protect you. Something that made him want to know you, even if it was only as friends, to explore your thoughts, to live inside your head for just a day, to find out just what, exactly, was going on in there. But he would never allow himself to get close enough to discover what that was – or risk you doing the same. Someone like him and someone like you – that could be dangerous. 
Especially someone like you. 
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As it’s beginning to turn out, tracking down your angel in black – that’s what you’ve been calling him – is far easier said than done. Somehow you’d stumbled up to your apartment after the cab dropped you off, and from there you’d somehow managed to let yourself inside and fall face-first into your bed, where you’d slept soundly until late the next morning, awakening with a pounding head and a foggy recollection of the man from last night, convinced the whole thing had to have been a dream and that your credit card, at this very moment, was probably stashed behind the counter of that bar. Or so you thought, because it’s definitely there when you go to check your wallet. That man, the angel in black – he was definitely real – and that means his warning was real too. The only problem is…you don’t have his name, and the only thing you can remember was that he was dark-haired and wearing all black – which could be literally any man in Seoul. Now it’s Wednesday, a week later, and you’re staring at your screen, open to a browser window that’s now littered with the failed remnants of your search, and rest your chin on your hand with a sigh. Ugh, what was I even thinking? How am I going to find some guy on the internet when I don’t even know his name and I can barely remember what he looks like? Talk about a needle in a haystack. You’re supposed to be working, as in, doing your actual job, but you haven’t been able to focus all week, and you've been off your game since that night. 
“What are you so laser-focused on over here?” comes Jimin’s lightly chiding voice from over your shoulder. His sudden appearance makes you jump and knock your hand into your half empty mug, causing a small wave of tepid coffee to slosh onto your desk. 
“Damn it, Jimin, you scared me!” You hurriedly reach for the wad of napkins you keep in the top drawer of your desk. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. You know I startle easily.”
“Sorry.” Jimin grins mischievously and leans in to take a closer look at your screen. “Y/n, are you seriously still looking for your mystery man? It’s been a week. You know, if he wanted you to find him he would have at least told you his name. Or slipped you his number. He was probably just being nice. People do that sometimes. Like on those hidden camera shows where little kids will ask you to help them cross the street or tie their shoes. Just accept it and move on already. He’s clearly not that worried about it. You said he had a black card, right? That kind of money is probably nothing to him.”
You finish mopping up the coffee and heave another sigh, sitting back in your chair. “I know It’s stupid. And I’m definitely wasting my time. But he saved my ass in a really big way. I can’t just move on like nothing happened. There has to be some way for me to pay him back. And besides…” You debate whether you should tell Jimin what he told you before he shoved you into a taxi. “He told me to just forget I ever met him, that I’d get hurt if I didn’t. I know it’s a bad idea to keep looking at this point, but you can’t just say something like that and expect me to forget about it. It only makes me want to find him even more.”
"That’s a weird thing for anyone to say," says Jimin, leaning against your desk, "but I suppose that's your choice, even if I do think you’re only setting yourself up for disappointment." 
"Thank you for the vote of support." You run your hands backwards through your hair and hum thoughtfully. "I guess I could always not pay my credit card bill and hope that it summons him out of the abyss to save my ass again." 
"Then he'll think you're trying to scam him instead of repaying him.” Jimin pats your shoulder. "Cheer up, y/n. Maybe you'll find him. Maybe you won't. But we've got a meeting about the new skincare line in about…" He checks his watch. "...two minutes? And they'll kill us if we're both late so maybe put a pin in that for now?" 
Of course, your actual job, the main reason you're able to have a credit card in the first place. "Shit, you're right. I completely forgot about that." You stand and gather your meeting materials into your arms. "What would I do without you, Park Jimin?"
"Mm, probably lose your job?" He straightens up and smirks. 
"Mean." You slap him lightly on the arm. "I wouldn't even be looking for this guy if you and Nayeon hadn't ditched and left me with your billion dollar bar tab." 
Jimin chuckles. "Okay, true, but need I remind you that you were responsible for most of it anyway?" He makes a tutting noise as you're walking down the hall. "Honestly, it's unnatural how much alcohol you can put away.”
"Please," you scoff, pushing open the door to the conference room. "I just have a high tolerance. It takes practice. You’ll get there one day."
“God, I hope not.” Jimin looks horrified at the prospect. “No offense.”
The meeting drags on, well into the afternoon, and your mind continues to wander in the direction of your angel in black, no matter how hard you try to pay attention to the subject at hand. Normally you’d be rapt with attention – skincare is your area of expertise, after all, and it’s been your dream to work at a cosmetics company ever since high school – but for the life of you, you just can’t seem to shake him from your memory and focus on your work. 
Wait. The bouncer. He was standing there the whole time you were arguing with the guy. That sleeve of tattoos was pretty distinctive-looking; you’d definitely remember it if you saw it again. It would be way easier to find him than the guy in black. And he works there. He’s more likely to be there than the other guy. Maybe he remembers something you don’t. 
As soon as the meeting ends, you hurry back to your desk, intent on getting all of today’s work finished by the time it hits six o’clock so you won’t have to work late, and spend the rest of the afternoon in a state of hyperfocus, only noticing that time has passed when you see that most of your coworkers are getting ready to leave. “Jimin.” You sidle up to him as he’s shrugging into his coat. “What are you doing tonight?” 
“Probably just going to head home and—” He stops and narrows his eyes. “You’re up to something, aren’t you? Is this still about that guy?” 
“I was thinking we could go back to that club,” you say earnestly. “There was this bouncer outside, and – well, I don’t really remember what he looked like either, but I’d know him if I saw him. I’m sure of it. I want to ask him if he remembers anything from last week. Maybe he knows something about this guy.”
“Y/n, it's Wednesday." Jimin says. “That place is going to be dead. I doubt anyone will be there, let alone your mystery man.” 
You make your best pouting expression. “You’ll come with me, right? For moral support?” 
“Fine.” Jimin sighs. “If it'll get you to stop fixating on this guy, I'm all for it. But you're buying me dinner.” 
You throw your arms around him. "Jimin-ssi, have I ever told you you're my favorite person in the whole wide world?"
"On multiple occasions.” He smirks. “This is the first time you've ever been sober, though." 
“Wow. See if I ever buy you dinner again.”
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The club, as Jimin predicted, was nearly empty, with only a few clumps of people dancing here and there, a handful of people at the bar, and a completely different, tattoo-less bouncer working the front door, who seemed to think the man with the tattoos was a temp. 
“There’s nobody like that working here!” he bellowed back to you, over the thumping music. “Your guy’s probably a temp!”
“No, I’m positive!” you shouted. “It was here. I tripped going out the door and he caught me. I’d know him if I saw him. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure!” he said. “Would you mind stepping away from the door? People are trying to come inside.” You didn’t hang around much longer after that, figuring that if neither the bouncer nor your mystery man were there now they probably wouldn’t be there later either.  
“Well, that was a bust,” comments Jimin, once you’re back in a cab on the way home. 
You blow out a frustrated breath. “Yeah. Sorry to drag you all the way over here for nothing.” 
“Ah, don’t worry about it,” he says. “That’s what friends are for, right? At least I got dinner out of it.” 
“Ha, ha, ha.” You roll your eyes. “I knew I should have just waited ‘til the weekend. I was just so excited to test my theory that I jumped the gun a little.”
Jimin frowns. “Don’t tell me you’re planning on making another special trip back over here to look for this guy.” 
“Well…I was.” You turn to look at him, taken aback. “Why shouldn’t I?” 
“Y/n…” Jimin sighs. “I'm your best friend and I love you, but…don’t you think you’re going too far with this? You don’t think maybe it’s time to move on? I mean, what if this guy really is dangerous, like he said? What if you get hurt?”
You scoff a little. “Would a dangerous person really come right out and say they’re dangerous?”
“Yes. That’s absolutely what a dangerous person would say. Please let this go, y/n. I’m begging you. For your own good. The universe will forgive you this one time for not paying that guy back.” 
"I know, but…" I won't. You sigh. "One more time, Jimin. I have to try one more time before I can tell myself I did everything I could."
"Okay. One more time." Jimin's face softens. "But I'm going to hold you to that. No more midweek club nights, internet searches, whatever. You have to let this go because it’s weird that you’re still hung up on this."
"I promise. One more time, and then no more. If I don't find him this time, I'm done."
"Good. Be careful, okay?"
"When am I not careful?" Your best friend raises an eyebrow and squints at you with the most skeptical of sideways glances, probably armed and ready with at least a dozen examples of how you’ve most decidedly not been careful in the past few years you’ve known each other. "That was rhetorical, Jimin. Drop the judgy look, please."
“What judgy look?” he demands. “This is just my face.” 
“Uh-huh. Sure.” 
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If Wednesday night’s visit was bad, then Saturday’s is even worse. It’s crowded, almost as crowded as it was the very first night the man in black saved your ass, with barely any good vantage points to park yourself and people-watch in hopes of catching a glance of your mystery man. You should have taken the other bouncer’s inability – or reluctance – to tell you anything about his tattooed coworker the other night as a warning – because it’s obvious that no one else is going to tell you anything about him either, for one reason or another. You’ve asked bartenders, waitresses, anyone who looks like they work there, and all that’s gotten you is in trouble with management. 
“We’re not allowed to give out that kind of information about our employees.” The manager’s eyes narrow. “Stop nosing around before you get yourself banned. Permanently.” With one final scowl he stalks off.
I guess that’s it, then, you think. You let out a sigh as you sit back down at the bar. God, what was I thinking? I never had any chance of finding this guy, not in a million years. Jimin was right. Why did I drag this out so long? It's time for me to move on. As soon as I finish this drink, I’ll walk out of this club and I’ll never think about him again. I’ll go home, and I’ll catch up on all that work I’m behind on because of him. No, I’ll get ahead. Yeah. That’ll show them. Part of you wants to feel relieved, but the realization only makes you feel dejected. Damn. I really wanted to meet him. You get to your feet, and collect your things, taking one last glance around the room. 
That’s when you see him. 
Your angel in black, drinking whiskey in the corner. Same black suit, same heavy bangs, same blank expression. Right as you’re about to leave and never look back, you just happen to see him? It’s too coincidental to be anything other than fate.  
You draw a deep breath, steel your nerves, and march up to his table. “And to think I was just going to walk right past you and out of this place forever. It's almost like the universe wanted us to meet again." You pull out the chair across from him and sit down. “You know, I never did catch your name.”
“That’s because I never dropped it,” he says dryly. “What are you doing here again? Didn’t I tell you to mind your own business?” 
“What, can’t a girl drink where she likes anymore?” You lean in. “Who says I’m here to mind your business? I’m busy minding my own. Which, as it turns out, happens to involve you – and making sure you get something in return for covering my ass that night. Thank you, by the way. You barely let me get it out last time.” 
He scoffs, sitting back. “I told you to forget about it. I didn’t spot you because I expected you to pay me back.” 
“Why did you do it, then?” You cock your head to one side. “There must have been some reason you felt like rescuing a damsel in distress. Nobody does anything without a reason.” 
The question seems to catch him off-guard for a moment, before he quickly regains his composure. “Why does it matter?” He stares down into his glass. “You don’t know anything about me. I could be dangerous for all you know. Like I've been trying to tell you this whole time.” Dangerous. There’s that word again.
“Well, you can’t be all that bad, or you wouldn’t have helped me out. And besides,” you muse, “if you were going to do anything to me you probably would have done it already.” 
“Suppose that’s true.” One side of his mouth twitches, almost imperceptibly. 
“Then again, maybe it is like you said. Maybe you aren’t a good person. But I don’t think that necessarily makes you a bad person. And I don’t think you would have done anything to me, even if you did have the chance. Which you did, the other night.”
A hard laugh escapes from his lips. "Clearly you haven't been listening to anything I've been saying. Because you definitely wouldn't be saying that if you really knew me.” 
You purse your lips thoughtfully. “Well, you know, I have this theory. Everyone has a color, right? Some people you can just tell whether they’re one way or another, black, white, whatever. But you…well, I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
“Hah. I’ve heard that one before.” The man avoids looking at you and stares down at the table, features set in an unreadable expression. “So, what color am I, then?” 
“Mm.” You grin. “First impression? Silver.” 
“Silver, huh?” He smirks. “Why silver?” 
“On the surface you’re a very gray person. Kind of an enigma. You’re not black and you’re not white, you’re somewhere in between, which makes you gray. But on closer inspection, anyone can see there’s something different about you that sparkles a little bit. Something that shines.” His face doesn’t move. “It’s just a theory, anyway,” you say hastily. “I’d have to get to know you a little better before I could really say for sure.” 
“What makes you think that’s going to happen?” An eyebrow quirks just slightly.
“Hm. You seem like the type who would have gotten up and left already if you weren’t at least a little bit interested in me, even if you came off as rude. And you’re still here, so you must be somewhat intrigued, right?” 
“That’s a compelling theory – but you're wrong. I might be an asshole but I'm not that kind of asshole.” He leans back, an arm draped over the back of the booth. “Anyways, before I answer your question, let me ask you one of my own: why are you so hellbent on paying me back to the point where you thought you had to track me down?” 
“You know, I’m not sure myself.” You rest your chin in your palm. “It just feels like the thing to do, that’s all. Most of the time strangers tend to either ignore me or glare at me when this kind of thing happens. You probably think I’m a mess. I know I do. I also know from experience that I can only ever count on my friends to have my back, so imagine my surprise when you, a random stranger, had my back the other night. You did something only my friends ever do for me.” You shrug nonchalantly. “And I always repay my friends.” 
“All right,” he says after a moment. “I won’t say I’m not at least a little impressed that you even found me. And now that you have…I’m guessing you’re not going to leave me alone until I give you what you want.” The whiskey swirls in his glass, resting in one long, slender hand. “Which is?”
“Dinner,” you say, boldly, without hesitating. “Or drinks, at least. I know I probably can’t afford what you’re used to. Obviously, considering the other night…but let me treat you sometime. Just to say thank you. Honestly, I’m a great date. Really. Or I should be." You sigh. "I've been on a lot, so I've had plenty of practice. But I promise I’ll make it worth your while. I even paid off my credit card. Just for you.”
He releases a resigned sigh and sets his glass down. “Okay. Say I agree, even though you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into and I definitely shouldn’t indulge you any further than I already have. Will you stop following me around if I do?”
“That depends. Are you going to ghost me as soon as it’s over?” 
“Now that,” he says, “depends on whether or not you’re as good of a date as you say you are.” 
“Oh, I’m positively delightful. Excellent conversationalist. Top-notch table manners. I won’t even stick you with the check this time. Best night of your life, guaranteed. Or top-ten, at least.” 
He pauses, looking like he might regret what he’s about to say. “Fine. We can have dinner. On one condition.” 
“Oh? What’s that?”
“You really have to stop following me around.” His expression turns dark. “It’s not a good idea for you to get involved with me. You could get hurt.”
“This again?” You sigh. “Let’s just see how dinner goes, and then I’ll decide if you’re worth any more of my time.” 
“You’ll decide, huh?” He eyes you. “You don’t even know my name.”
“I don’t know your name yet,” you correct him, “and that’s only because you haven’t told me what it is.” 
“Yoongi,” he says finally, after a moment of hesitation. A tinge of amusement plays across his features. “Min Yoongi.” 
“Yoongi,” you repeat. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Yoongi. I’m Y/n. Y/n L/n.” You extend a hand across the table. 
“Y/n,” he says, giving your hand a firm shake. It’s cool and dry, and you spot the barest remains of a scar on his palm as he pulls his hand away. “Only time will tell whether I’m going to be able to say the same for you.”
“Mm.” You shrug. “I think you’ll be surprised.”
“Like I said.” Yoongi gets to his feet, taking his glass with him. “Anyway. I have some business to take care of. Can you get out of here on your own, or are you going to be needing my help again?”
“I’ll be fine, but – wait, I didn’t give you my number. How are we going to get in touch?”
“Don’t worry about it.” He looks down at you and smirks, the unmistakable hint of a sparkle somewhere in those soft, dark eyes. “You seem to think we’re fated, so I’m sure we’ll run into each other again if we’re really meant to. We’ve exchanged names now.” Yoongi raises his glass slightly. “You can find out a lot about a person from just a name.” 
“Hey, wait a—” Yoongi is gone before you can finish your sentence, swallowed up by the dense crowds of the club. “He still didn’t answer my question,” you mutter. 
But despite all that – you have a hopeful feeling about the whole situation. 
"Yoongi," you repeat. "Who are you, Min Yoongi?"
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The silence in Yoongi’s office the next morning is nearly palpable, the air between him and Jungkook filled with the sounds of clicking keys as they’re finishing up their paperwork on the case at the club. Even without looking he can sense the younger man eyeing him over the top of his laptop screen. Yoongi heaves a resigned sigh. “Spit it out, Jungkook. I can practically hear the gears grinding inside that giant head of yours.” 
Jungkook stops typing and leans forward, grinning in a suspiciously sunny manner. “I was just noticing how good of a mood you’re in today, boss,” he says. “Better than you’ve been in months.” 
"Bullshit I am." Yoongi’s eyes don’t move. “You're imagining things." 
“You are too!” Jungkook insists. “I told you good morning on my way in and you didn’t even tell me to stop bothering you and get to work.” He squints at Yoongi. “You said it back to me. And you weren’t even being sarcastic about it.”
“So I said good morning to you. Once. Big deal. I’ve been known to be cordial every once in a while, haven’t I?” 
“But you’re never cordial with me,” insists Jungkook. “You're cordial with clients. And people who are gonna give you money. Normally it’s all grunts and scowling when you talk to me. Something good happened last night, didn’t it? I saw you chatting with that girl, the one you paid the bar tab for last week. She managed to track you down, huh?” He’s not going to let this go easily. He’s like a dog with a chew toy whenever he finds an interesting enough tidbit to hang onto. 
Yoongi suppresses a sigh and presses his fingers to the sides of his temples. “Yeah, and? What are you getting at?”
“Oh, nothing.” He plasters an innocent-looking expression on his face. “She went through all of that trouble to track you down when most people would have just let it go. She must like you. Seems like you like her too.” 
Yoongi snorts. “Y/n? Flighty, irresponsible, doesn’t even know her own limits, so impulsive that the first thing she thinks of when a man does something nice for her is to follow him out into the street y/n? No way in hell.”
“And you, a guy who’s so cautious, practical, and down to earth that he never does anything without thinking about it for weeks?” notes Jungkook. “All I’m hearing is that you’d be perfect for each other. Opposites attract, you know?”
“The worst thing she could do would be to get involved with me,” Yoongi scoffs. “Trust me. It’s not happening.” He rolls a pen back and forth in his hand. “It’s not like that, anyway. She said she’d leave me alone if I let her do this. She doesn’t like me, she just feels like she owes me. That’s all. I’m just humoring her so she’ll leave me alone.”
“Uh-huh.” Jungkook smirks. “You do like her, don’t you?” 
“I didn’t say that,” grumbles Yoongi. “Why don’t you mind your own business for once?” 
“In case you’ve forgotten, hyung,” says Jungkook, still grinning, “you left me in charge of minding your business for the past six months. You know, while you were off the grid camping in the middle of nowhere?” 
“Yeah, and I’m starting to regret it,” he mutters. “Humor me and let it go. It’s too early for this shit.” 
“All right, fine.” Jungkook turns his eyes back to his screen, but it doesn’t last for long. “So when are you going to see her again?” 
“We didn’t set a firm—” Yoongi’s eyes narrow, pinning Jungkook with a searing glare. “Hey. I’ll fire you if you don’t watch yourself.” 
“Ah, go ahead and fire me, then,” Jungkook says cheerfully. “I’d like to see how well you manage without me covering your ass.”
Yoongi flings the pen in his hand across the table, aiming for Jungkook’s head, who easily dodges it. “Aish, you’ve gotten cocky since I left. I managed just fine on my own before you got here, thank you. You were the one who came bitching to me about how much you needed me to come back, weren’t you? This case that you just couldn't handle by yourself, even though you've probably handled about a dozen of the exact same type of cases all by yourself?”
“Come on!” snorts Jungkook. “We both know you were ready to come back. I just needed to make you feel good about yourself so you’d actually get off your ass and do it. You should be thanking me, hyung.”  
“Thanking you?” demands Yoongi. “What the hell should I be thanking you for?”
“I think you know.” Jungkook’s eyebrows dance suggestively, eyes twinkling. “Y/n – she’s pretty, isn't she?”
“That’s it. You’re getting demoted.”
“Okay, okay.” Jungkook falls silent suddenly before he speaks again. “I missed you, boss. Good to have you back.” 
“Ah, shut up,” Yoongi snaps. “And get back to work. These reports aren’t going to write themselves, you know.” 
Jungkook turns his attention back to his computer screen again, eyeing Yoongi’s scowl with a knowing smirk. Yeah. He totally likes her. 
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©2023 by mrworldwideshoulders || series masterlist || collection masterlist || my masterlist ||
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writing-for-marvel · 7 months
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Day 13: Somnophilia
Mob!Bucky's Kinktober Honeymoon
Mob!Bucky Barnes × Wife!Reader
Summary: Bucky enjoys moments like this where his work doesn’t get in the way of waking up beside you.
Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, tagging dubcon as it is somnophilia but reader has consented to being woken up with sex, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie
Word count: 1.2k
A/N: I think this is one of my favourites from this Kinktober collection, I hope you all enjoy it too! Dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies
💋 Join my Kinktober Taglist 💋
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Bucky Barnes has always been an early riser. In his line of work, you don’t get the luxury of sleeping in and enjoying those extra hours in bed, not when so many people are reliant on him for vital business to continue as usual.
But on his honeymoon he promised to allow himself that time. Those sleepy moments with you as the sun rises above the sea, as your eyes flutter open for the first time that day, languid kisses as your muscles begin to remember what it’s like to move again.
Now he’s experienced what that feels like, how tranquil the world is when it is exclusively the two of you snuggling in the hazy state between sleeping and being fully awake, he’s certain he’ll never be able to leave you tangled alone in his sheets again.
Even though he physically can’t sleep with the sun rays streaming through the parted curtains, he enjoys the warmth and serenity of simply being by your side.
Through the night you’ve managed to pull all the sheets to your side of the bed, leaving him with nothing but cuddling up to your body for warmth. But he doesn’t care, he’d burn down the whole world to ensure your comfort and safety, letting you hog the blankets doesn’t even seem like a sacrifice - it’s a privilege.
Plus, he’d much rather snuggle you, pulling your body back where you slot together perfectly, like puzzle pieces made for each other, then sleep alone with a bedspread. So that’s exactly what he does, sling a tired arm around your middle, hug you closer and position his leg between yours so you are as close as possible.
There’s a long moment where Bucky closes his eyes and simply relishes holding the love of his life close, but you’re not still for long. You begin wriggling in his arms, the small little whines released from your lips shiver straight down his spine to his now hardening cock. With Bucky cuddling your naked frame so close, your ass presses up against his pelvis and as you squirm in response to the apparent dirty dream, you only stimulate him further.
“You’re dreamin’ of me, aren’t you darlin’?” Bucky whispers, and even though you’re most certainly deep in slumber, he swears he sees the corners of your mouth upturn in a smile at the sound of his voice.
The idea that he also finds you in your dreamland, even when you’re spending every moment together in your waking hours makes Bucky’s heart feel so warm and full that it may burst at any moment.
Bucky remembers the conversation the two of you had not long after you moved in together. He works odd hours when back at home, leaving early in the morning, returning home in the middle of the night - you’ve given him permission to take what he needs from you, whenever he needs it.
“Look how wet you are, sweetheart.” His fingers tease your already dripping folds, circling around your clit which makes you writhe and whimper in response. Even in your sleep you’re so needy for him. “I could jus’ slip right in.” Bucky lifts your leg and thrusts his hips gently against your ass so that his dick pushes through your wet folds, coating himself in your arousal.
When his name cascades in a moan from your lips while still sound asleep, he can barely hold back, his cock aching almost painfully to be nestled within your fluttering walls. But he reminds himself that you are peacefully sleeping, and doesn’t want to wake you with a fright.
Your breath hitches when Bucky’s swollen tip, leaking precum, catches at your entrance before nudging your clit and you instinctively press your hips back into him. Bucky grunts into your ear as he finally slips inside you, slowly filling you inch by inch as he feels your tight walls clamping down on him.
When he’s fully seated within you, he can feel you wiggle your hips as you stir.
“Bucky…”
“Mornin’ darlin’.” He gradually pulls out of you, feeling your walls trying to suck him back in. “Is this what you were dreamin’ about? Creamin’ on your husbands cock?”
It seems as though you’re already on cloud nine, too blissed out to do anything other than hum in agreement.
Bucky tilts his body, angling himself so that with each rock of his hips he grazes that spot inside you which makes you see stars. The moment feels exquisitely intimate, slow, deliberate movements designed purely for pleasure, sweet whispers of praise as one of Bucky’s hands kneads your breasts.
“Fuck, right there. Don’t stop, Bucky.” You beg breathlessly as your hand travels down to where your bodies are connected and begins playing with your clit. Bucky just about cums at the sight.
His grip on your thigh becomes a little tighter. Bucky loves this angle, being squeezed deliciously by your velvety walls, being able to feel how needy you are by pushing back against him with each thrust. He is also able to hold his entire world in his arms, feel the woman who he would give up everything he owns to protect and make happy come undone next to him
“I won’t - not until you cum for me.” Bucky pants, trying to maintain a steady rhythm with his hips as he places a gentle kiss to your shoulder blade.
Knowing he is responsible for every breathy moan, every whimper trickling from your lips only fuels Bucky to keep thrusting, trying to hold out just that little bit longer until he can make you cum first.
“God, you feel so good.” Bucky can sense you’re about to cum by the fluttering of your walls around him and the breathless pitch of your voice.
It only takes one, two, three more rocks of his hips before he feels your warmth clamp down on him as if you never plan on letting go. It’s enough to send Bucky over the edge right alongside you - his cock twitches, balls tighten, and the knot in his stomach unwinds as he spills every spurt of his orgasm inside you. The bedroom is filled with chants of both your names as you each ride the waves of pleasure all the way to the metaphorical shore.
“Did you like that, baby?” Bucky knows he should get a warm washcloth from the ensuite to clean you up, and he will, he just can’t release you from his warm embrace just yet. He needs another minute of holding you. “Like being woken up with your husband's cock?”
“Fuck yes.” You flip over so you’re now facing him, and what a sight to behold. His bewitchingly beautiful wife, the light of his life, a tired smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, in the gleam of the early morning sunrise, is looking at you like you cannot wait to spend every morning exactly as you’ve spent this one. “Want you to wake me up like that everyday for the rest of my life.”
“That can certainly be arranged.”
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Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon Taglist: @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @kandis-mom @buggy14 @opheliastark @auntiegigi @alovecraft @cinnxbunny @zincxxx @cultofcarter @rose-alyssa @kaitlin013106 @wandas-gurlfri3nd @beautifulrare4leafclover @queenyamimarrero @littlerya @noobzandboobzandhooz @wanda2themax @lonelywolfheart @Kbananaclip14 @depressed-gays-of-marvel @ur--mommy @jollyfirebattrash @lauratang @casa-boiardi @raging-panda @nicoline1998enilocin @melsunshine @stinkerbelle007 @mememe7147 @happycat547 @matchat3a @Sirmeowertheruthless7 @Inlovewithficnalmen @katiemarsblog @irienanicole @buckyisveryhot @littleravengirl @whyamireadingthis @vase-of-lilies @Mrsrogers77 @saltyshluts @Wwhitewolff @buckysdogtagss @mylastnamesyuh @alexandria-fandom @andth3ywereroommates @avalongreene-09 @sargentbarnxes @keira324 @cherryschaos @missusbarnes-rogers @cherriesnwinee @Ellieangelbee @Shirayukiuzukaze @goldylions @elacinnamoon @buckysdollx @mrsmischief209 @capsbestgirl77 @its-just-smut-haha @ironmansson29 @Slutforderekhale @otome-loves-what @jacesswifey @winterslove1917 @black-mistress-of-evil @buckyscumwhore @purple-vegan
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navybrat817 · 1 year
Note
https://www.facebook.com/reel/1191798265037423?s=yWDuG2&fs=e
Florist beefy Bucky and Petal maybe👀
Oh, sweet nonnie. I had to do some kind of variation of this.
Grandeur
Pairing: Florist!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky is thankful to have you in his life, especially after a long day. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Sugary sweet fluff and love, established relationship, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Moodboard by yours truly. A/N: A little for something for my favorite florist. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, mentally ticking off one more thing on his checklist. He closed the shop a little while ago, but still had a couple of things to complete before he could leave. It was admittedly not the best day. Blame it on the rainy weather or just an off day, but it seemed like a portion of his arrangements underwhelmed his customers. And with the system going down temporarily, one of his deliveries running extremely late, and an employee calling in sick, he was going to miss his dinner with you.
"Sorry, Petal. I don’t think I’ll make it for dinner. I'll call you later." He sent, tucking his phone away before he could see your response.
It was the first time he had to break plans with you and it broke his heart a bit.
With another sigh, he took his ponytail out to rake a hand through his hair. He tried not to sweat the small things. Life was too short for that. Even with the shock of losing his arm, he did his best to look at the positive. It helped put him on the path that led to something he was passionate about. It was something that tied him to his past and would help define his future.
The best part of all was that it brought you into his life.
Bucky just wished you were there tonight. Not so he would complain or rant to you. He just wanted to see your smile and know there was something right about his day. But he kind of screwed that up by pushing off dinner plans.
Sorry, Petal. I’ll find a way to make it up to you.
He bent down to grab something behind the desk when he heard a knock at the door. "Sorry, but we’re closed!" he called out, not sure if the person standing there would even hear him.
"But I brought dinner!"
He jumped up so fast he had to grip the desk when his head spun. You smiled and waved through the glass as you held up a bag of food with your other hand. A true sight for sore eyes, you looked thrilled to see him and he was so entranced it took him a few extra seconds to go to the door.
"Okay, I know you had a long day and the back office is probably the last place you want to have dinner," you began as you went inside, your sweet and familiar scent washing over him like a soothing mist. "But I thought you could use some company and I brought your favorite."
He swallowed a little, touched by your thoughtfulness.
"Is that okay?" you asked when he didn't answer right away.
How did you know I needed you?
"Yeah, thanks," he whispered, gently stopping you before you could go to the back. "Wait. You aren’t upset that I couldn’t make it for dinner?"
He regretted asking when hurt filled your eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was imply that you would hold something like that over his head. After the kind of day he had though, he just had to be sure you were okay. Your feelings mattered to him.
"Bucky, no. I'm not upset. I know you didn’t push dinner off on purpose. I just feel bad that you didn't have a great day," you gently assured him, giving him a quick kiss. It wasn’t long enough for him. He wanted to get drunk on the taste of your lips. "Would you hold it against me if a meeting or something ran late and I had to postpone a meal?"
"No," he said, knowing you had a point. You were one of the most considerate people he knew, especially when it came to him and his feelings. He tried to give you the same consideration in return.
"Then don’t expect me to hold it against you. I know you and I know you would’ve come over as soon as you wrapped up here," you smiled, sneaking another kiss. "I’ll get this set up. Let me know if I can help you with anything out here."
He watched in awe as you went to the back office, his chest tight as he silently followed. You cleaned off a spot to spread out the meal and gave him another smile when you caught him staring. You were there for him and weren’t going anywhere.
Petal, what did I do to deserve you?
He wasn’t sure why he teared up. Maybe he wasn’t used to someone caring that much about him that they would spend the evening in the shop just to be close to be close by. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms and say in your ear how much you meant to him. He wanted to sweep everything on the floor and lay you on the desk so he could bury himself so deep you’d feel him days from now.
"What’s wrong?" you asked when he blinked away the tears, even though he knew you wouldn't judge if he cried.
He could show you the ugliest parts of himself and you would find a way to make them beautiful.
"Nothing. I was just thinking of how much you mean to me," he said in a quiet voice as he removed his apron and tossed it away. "How you mean everything to me."
"You mean everything to me, too," you promised, holding a hand out for him.
He took it without hesitation.
"Do you remember our first date?" he asked as he pulled you close. It seemed like yesterday he took you to the restaurant and held you in his arms for a dance, uncaring of who was watching. "I thanked you for taking a chance on me."
"I remember," you smiled, reaching up with your left hand to touch his cheek. "Shouldn’t I be thanking you for being the best boyfriend in the world?"
"Boyfriend," he repeated as he brought your hand to his lips, letting them linger on your bare ring finger. It didn’t sound right to him anymore. Not when he was meant to be more. "I’m going to be your husband one day, Petal. I’m going to put a ring on your finger and make you my wife. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life thanking you for being mine."
He already had the perfect ring.
"Bucky," you whispered when he brushed his lips against yours. "All that because I brought you dinner?"
He chuckled at the astonishment in your tone. "No. Just because I love you."
"I love you, too. And when you ask me one day, I’ll say ‘yes’," you told him before he swept you up in a deep kiss.
While Bucky didn’t have the ability to predict the future, he knew that the two of you were meant to be together. He would continue not to sweat the small stuff with you by his side. And maybe he could convince you to skip dinner and go straight to dessert. Because, besides your company, the sweet nectar between your legs was exactly what he needed after a long day.
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Where do I get one? And how do we think he'll propose? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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