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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 17 days

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i crumble completely when you cry ; suguru geto

synopsis; after a tense fight with your boyfriend, you flee out into a brewing rainstorm. luckily, suguru is always willing to warm you up again.

word count; 6.2k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, copious amounts of hurt/comfort, no really that’s literally all this fic is, sugu snaps at you for worrying about him, (and then promptly spirals), he makes it up to you though :), healthy communication ensues, [name] is used exactly once, switching povs, soft & fluffy ending <33

a/n; going back to my roots (mindless hurt/comfort) 🙏🙏 i just think that if suguru picked me up like a small kitten and put me in his lap it would fix me

you’re cold.

little shivers run through your body, down your spine, and all you can do is clench your chattering teeth and dig your nails into the skin of your palms. the heavy rain falls down without mercy, going pitter patter as it hits the asphalt. a sudden lightning strike lights up the town, flashing in the reflection of puddles, and you manage a weak jolt.

dark clouds blanket the whole sky, not allowing even a sliver of blue to shine through the darkness of the rainy evening. enveloping you, surrounding you, soft earthy scents — wet asphalt, roses blooming to your left and right, bushes with sweet-smelling flora guiding your path, little petals glistening with droplets and bouncing with the force of the rain.

it’d be comforting, were it not for one simple fact;

you don’t have an umbrella.

at this point, thirty minutes into your solemn, sniffly walk, you’re absolutely soaked. with only a measly hoodie to cover your body and head, and a tank top sticking to the skin beneath it — you were stupid to think you’d get out of it unscathed. your shoes feel uncomfortable, wet soles sticking to the asphalt, two heavy weights carrying you down the familiar street ahead of you.

you let out a shuddering breath.

gosh, this was stupid. you knew it was going to rain, but still walked out without a care in the world; despite the weather forecast, despite suguru’s warnings over breakfast, despite the dark clouds covering the milk-blue sky. you just didn’t think it’d be this bad. you just felt so helpless.

you just couldn’t stay there.

some fresh air, and a bit of space. that was all you needed. just that one sliver of comfort.

so, yeah, maybe you weren’t thinking very clearly when you stormed out. maybe you weren’t thinking nearly enough, not enough to even grab one of the umbrellas hanging off the coatrack. hanging there just for you, the cutest little frog umbrella, one suguru bought for you himself. big, googly eyes, and a big smile. the most perfect shade of green.

(he put it there just for you.)

maybe you weren’t thinking at all. maybe you just needed to get away, away from him, away from the frustration on his features. arguments with suguru are few and far between — it only adds to the sting of his cold voice still ringing in your ears. you bite down on your bottom lip again, just to stop it from wobbling so pitifully. blinking rapidly, tears and raindrops clinging to your lashline.

you were just worried. is that so awful?

(why did he have to be so fucking mean about it?)

a sigh flows from your lips, heavy and defeated and undeniably tired. you hate feeling like this, this bitter, hate feeling like you’ve done something wrong. more than anything, you hate arguing with him — hate the idea of him being angry with you. hate the way his voice turns colder, just a little sharper, an octave lower. he never raises it, never ever, but somehow he still sounds so scary.

it bothers you. bothers you how sensitive you are when it comes to him. just that shivering tilt of his voice, coupled with the annoyance in his eyes, was enough to make your eyes a little glassy. one little sentence, and you were close to breaking out into a sob. because suguru was angry with you, and that alone makes you feel like you’ve done nothing right in your life.

so you left. because that was all you could do.

sure, the sharp pelting of the rain hurts a little, and the thunder is scary, and you’re awfully cold — but anything is better than having suguru see you burst into tears over such a small argument. you know he’d try to soothe you, know he’d feel guilty. but that just makes it all the more embarrassing.

(all the more pathetic.)

so you left, rushed out of your own apartment, and before you knew it the storm was rolling in above you. rain and thunder, something to rival the ache in your chest. it still hasn’t been that long, a little over half an hour, and you still haven’t fully calmed down. you still don’t know how to face him. but —

but fuck, it’s cold. and an undeniable part of you yearns to run back into his arms, to make up with him, to hear his voice turn warm and see his eyes go soft. you want him to soothe you so, so badly. like he always does.

another sigh — more resigned this time — slips from out your lips. your bones feel sore, you’re almost certain you’re going to catch a cold, and it’s getting late. you’re all alone, and it’s raining, and you look vulnerable and helpless.

you want to go home.

it’ll be awkward, but maybe you can sneak in somehow — without him noticing. then you can go straight to sleep, on the couch, and maybe you’ll feel a little better tomorrow. the two of you can talk it out over breakfast, over warm coffee, and you can tell him what you meant to say without stumbling over what words to use or dancing around the subject like a scared little child.

you’re just too tired to argue anymore.

he just made you feel so stupid. so very, very small. suguru’s been working so hard lately, coming home late, exhausting himself. all you wanted was to make sure he was okay. that, and to coax him into relaxing a bit; maybe take a day off to recharge. that was all.

but he just brushed you off.

and, well, maybe you should’ve backed off after that. maybe you should’ve taken that as a sign that suguru didn’t feel up to answering your questions. but you were just so worried, so pitifully anxious, and you just wanted to help him so, so badly.

suguru is always so dependable. always there to help you, to ground you, to console you. even when you push him away or insist you don’t need it. he can be pushy, when he feels like he needs to, when your health is at risk — and it’s frustrating, but you’ve always appreciated it. you just wanted to return the favour. push him, just a little, to show him how much you care. show him that he can depend on you the way he insists you do with him.

but then he grew frustrated.

”suguru… you’ve been working so much, i’m —” you bite down on your bottom lip. ”i’m just worried that you’re overdoing it.” ”… god. how many times do i have to say it? i know my limits, [name].” ”but — you just look so tired —” ”well, i’m sorry for that.” a cold smile. ”am i not living up to your expectations?”

(that’s not what you meant. he knows that’s not what you meant.)

and it makes you feel frustrated, too. pardon you for being worried. for wanting to be there for him, for once, for wanting to be a supportive partner and not just a burden.

pardon you for feeling a little lonely, with him coming home so late, leaving so early. with him not giving you the affection you’re so used to, and never confiding in you about his stress.

pardon you for wanting him to trust you, a little, even just a sliver more than not at all.

god, you’re exhausted. you just want to sleep — can’t you have that, at least? just that one thing? you don’t mind sleeping on the couch, don’t mind feeling like a stranger in your own home, as long as you get to rest your eyes. just for a little while.

your brain spins in circles, bitterness and longing heavy on your tongue, as you grumble over what to do or how to feel —

while your feet have already begun taking you home. moving almost on their own, on instinct, walking past rose bushes and backyards, the smell of glucose and rotting apples.

and you’re there before you know it: in front of the familiar door to your shared apartment, soaked from head to toe. still feeling a little lost.

for a second, you hesitate.

maybe he’s still angry. maybe he was happy to get some time away from you. maybe you’re just making things worse by doing this, maybe you should just —

but your fingers have already fished out the key from within your pocket, unlocking the door in one swift motion. moving up to curl around the doorknob, a desperation in your veins guiding you closer to his steady warmth.

and before you have the chance to waver again, you pull the door open and step inside.

you move slowly, gentle and careful, almost cautious. softly closing the door behind you and taking a couple quiet steps forward, only to shrug off your hoodie — heavy, soaking wet and discomforting as you pull it over your head. clumsily, you try to get it off you, squirming when the warm indoors air meets your sweaty tank top. it feels soothing on your bare skin, though, ghosting over your shoulders and collarbone, hoodie now clinging to your elbows.

in the middle of the taxing endeavor, you almost fail to notice the presence of a certain someone, standing just a little farther away.

almost, because it’d be impossible for you to miss him, that heavy gaze of his.

and before you can think the thought to do anything else, you’ve locked eyes with him — arms still tangled up in the wet sleeves of your hoodie, raindrops and sweat sticking to your skin.

(suguru takes a moment to look at you.)

not daring to say anything, afraid to part your lips, you simply stand there. in silence, like a deer in headlights. for some reason, you can’t really read his expression — you’re a little too tired, a little too caught off guard.

you can only blink, worry surely evident in your furrowed brows, as the seconds tick on and on. tense, tense, tense.

and then he’s walking away again.

crestfallen. that’s probably the best way to describe how you feel right now, watching him disappear around the corner. dejected, as your eyes fall to the floor, and your posture wilts like a dying rose. you finally shake off your hoodie and watch it fall to the floor with a gross, wet plap.

it hurts. you want to cry. you can’t help it. even though a part of you is still upset, even though a part of you fully expected this to happen…

another part was still hoping he’d be happy to see you. as if just seeing his smile again might’ve fixed everything.

but he didn’t even give you that.

that’s that, then. there’s nothing you can do except proceed with your original plan. you’ll change into some warm, dry clothes, and go to sleep on the couch like the miserable dog you are. you’ll leave everything troublesome and disheartening for tomorrow’s you to handle.

for now, you just have to worry about getting some sleep. you don’t have to think about suguru, or his cold voice, or the way he just walked away without saying anything.

you don’t have to think about him at all.

(don’t think. don’t think. don’t —)

— the soft patter of footsteps breaks you out of your anxious spiral. they come closer and closer, until a certain silhouette enters your vision out of the corner of your eye.

a certain suguru geto, hair down and cascading past his shoulders, wearing a comfortable sweater and loose sweatpants with a fluffy towel in tow.

once again, you can only blink. a vaguely confused deer in headlights. suguru comes closer and closer, until you can clearly see his eyes, amber gold, full of an emotion you finally manage to identify —

worry.

(ah.)

before you can say anything, he’s draped the towel around you. it feels nice, a soft texture on your skin, big enough to engulf you completely, cocooning you. cozy and snug. you can’t help but melt a little when suguru places his big hand over the towel and smooths it over your cheek, drying off your skin so gently that you feel like crying again.

”are you cold?” he asks, concern evident in his voice. to your immense relief, it sounds nowhere near as scary as before. ”you’re soaked…”

suguru almost seems to be pouting, bottom lip jutting out the slightest bit, eyebrows furrowed softly. still rubbing the raindrops off your skin. he looks awfully troubled, undeniably anxious, and the way he’s caressing your skin feels so earnestly caring. the towel feels warm, like he went the extra mile to heat it up for you.

and, more than anything, the feeling of suguru’s big hands cupping your face is almost heavenly. even though the touch is indirect, you can’t help but bask in his warmth, almost desperate to cling to it after escaping from the harsh cold of the rain. like he could slip away and leave you again if you don’t stay perfectly still, just like this.

it’s soothing. so, so soothing. but it also makes you feel kind of meek.

you sound sheepish when you answer, voice a little hoarse after your grueling walk. throat dry from all the crying. ”nah, ’m fine…”

the words are tiny, fragile like pieces of glass, and they only make suguru’s brows furrow further, pout turning into a soft frown as he gazes down at you.

(he hates how small you look. like you’re curling in on yourself.)

as soon as you left the apartment, a wave of regret washed over him. it was expected, obviously, because that’s what always happens after the two of you argue — which is almost never, which only makes the cut in his heart run deeper.

he felt frustrated. and tired, so tired. but when he saw your troubled expression, the way your eyes watered slightly before you rushed out…

he could only feel guilty.

and that sensation only deepened as he sat on the couch and spiraled, over the course of forty long minutes, playing the interaction back inside his head. over and over, thinking about your words, his words, some of which he desperately wishes he could take back.

and when it started raining? suguru could only feel regret, hot and ugly, dragging him into his own thoughts. could only drown in his worries, look out the window anxiously. thinking of you, his sweet baby, stuck under the onslaught of dark clouds and lightning strikes and heavy rain.

(you didn’t bring an umbrella.)

suguru waited. that was all he could do.

he didn’t think it was possible for him to feel so useless. fighting with himself, the part of him that wanted to give you the space you needed clashing with the part that yearned to run after you — scoop you up and apologize, hold you tight and protect you from the rainfall. you weren’t answering his calls, and he didn’t want to overwhelm you, didn’t want to make you feel even worse. afraid to scare you off for good.

so he could only sit there and worry, sit there and wait, wallow in his own shame until he heard the faintest sound of the front door unlocking. followed by the sound of it creaking open, slowly — and that was all he needed.

and there you were. standing by the entrance, entirely soaked, tank top sticking to your skin and that flimsy hoodie hanging off your arms, cheeks a little red from the cold and strands of hair sticking to your skin.

like a tiny kitten left out in the rain.

it made him feel so painfully anxious. his heart aching so deeply, so viscerally, while all he could think about was smothering you in affection. taking care of you, like he always wants to do, needs to do to stay sane. so suguru left, to go grab something to dry you off with —

and now he’s here. in front of you, smothering you with the towel rather than his love, fretting over you like an overprotective mother.

suguru yearns to soothe you. to take care of you. always, always, always, his hands on your skin and lidded amber eyes staring deeply into yours. offering himself like a shelter to a stray dog, hoping so tenderly that you’ll take the bait.

(he just wants you to feel safe with him again.)

so he stumbles for something, anything to say, afraid of overstepping or making you uncomfortable. you did just argue, and suguru was anything but patient with you. usually he would be; he’d make sure to be. but with work piling up, and exhaustion clinging to every pore of his skin…

he failed at maintaining his composure.

he needs to make it up to you. despite everything — even though he feels a little awkward, a little restless, still drowning a little in shame — he just wants to tend to you. that, and nothing more.

”hang on,” he exhales, stepping back and letting go of the towel. ”i’ll go draw you a bath…”

”ah — no need,” you smile, a little forced, swiftly reassuring him. he can tell you don’t really know how to act after everything that happened; still walking on eggshells. ”i’ll just take a quick shower.”

suguru wants to protest, wants to coax you into taking a proper bath, into letting your cold skin and aching bones relax completely —

but he can only hum, a little unsure. a little sad.

”… okay. got it.”

perplexed, he tries his hand at another tactic. still so desperate to take care of you in whatever way you’ll allow, like always, but he thinks it’s worse now. even more desperate, after the fight you had, after seeing your frail, shivering self. resisting the urge to scoop you up and coddle you is a struggle.

”i can make you tea?” he tries, inwardly wincing at the way the words spill from his lips; uncertain, awkward. what a mess.

but you smile, slightly more genuinely this time, a soft little thing. it soothes some of the anxiety rotting through his ribs.

”tea would be great, thank you.”

you brush past him, warm towel still hanging off your shoulders. ”i’ll just take a shower in the meantime,” you murmur, and suguru can do nothing but nod, watching you go.

he swallows thickly.

(that’s that, then.)

tea. right. what kind of tea? something warm, and soothing, and good for your throat. chamomile? peppermint? he’ll add a spoon of honey, just the way you like.

suguru’s mind spins in circles while his feet take him to the kitchen, hands swiftly rummaging through cabinets and getting the electric kettle ready. placing teacups and a teapot on the table, cute little floral designs he couldn’t help but fill your kitchen with. pouring hot peppermint tea into the pot, a strong scent drifting through the kitchen, drowning his senses in bliss.

caught up in his own head, losing track of time, suguru fails to notice you walking from the bathroom — stopping by the threshold of the kitchen, hesitant to make your presence known. a few silent moments pass. with a tiny inhale, mint invading your senses, you take a step forward. calm and sleepy, skin still pleasantly hot from the warm shower, hair still a little damp.

only then does suguru notice you, his gaze drifting to your figure as if instinctively drawn to it.

you’re clad in some comfortable sweatpants, and an oversized hoodie — his hoodie, the one with the unreasonably soft texture, the one you tend to gravitate towards — the one he likes to see you in the most, because you always look so thoroughly comfy in it. almost drowning in the fabric.

seeing you all warm and cozy, in his clothing no less, sends a tremor of pure warmth running through suguru’s chest. sprouting in his heart and spreading throughout his entire body. he can’t bring himself to resist the soft curl of his lips, gazing at you so fondly he’s almost sure you notice it.

”i made peppermint,” he says, a little breathless, already pouring boiling tea into two cups on the table. ”that okay?”

”yeah,” you answer, instantaneous. stifling a yawn. you’d have been fine with anything, really.

the shower worked wonders for your muddled mind; chasing away the shivers down your spine, that unpleasant chill to your skin. most importantly, it gave you a moment to simply relax, to bask in the peace and quiet. feel the hot water surround you, melt your bones like softened clay. you feel a little better, now. still anxious, more than a little sleepy, but better. and right now, that’s all you need.

with a groggy kind of pep in your step, you stumble over to the kitchen table, plopping down on the chair across from where suguru is sitting. trying to get comfortable, knees pressed against your chest, muttering a soft thank you while gingerly touching the rim of the cup.

(suguru frowns, just barely, at the sight. usually you’d sit right next to him. but now you’re in front of him, so very far — as if you’re strangers.

it breaks his heart, a little bit.)

a soft hum leaves your lips when you take a sip of the tea — all warm and comforting and minty on your tongue, a vague taste of something sweet. it’s relaxing, more than anything, and it makes you feel a little more okay with everything.

suguru only watches you, drinking absentmindedly from his own cup. not really tasting anything.

finally, he opts to clear his throat — and your attention falls on him instantly.

”hey,” he starts, ready to address the elephant in the room. his voice is gentle, but decisive, firm somehow. ”about before…”

your body tenses, ever so slightly, fingers uncurling around the handle of the teacup. there’s a kind of shift in the air around you, in suguru’s tone of voice — and you were expecting it, waiting for it anxiously, but that doesn’t make it any less harrowing.

here it comes, your mind seems to sing. here comes the moment everything shatters again.

with as much strength as you can muster, you smile. a little sheepish, just a tad forced, refusing to meet his eyes from across the table. staring into the murky green of your cup and hoping in vain that you can somehow escape this discomfort.

(you just want to rest. you just want to not have to think about anything.)

”it’s fine, suguru,” you cut him off. softly, but there’s a certain tilt to your voice that strikes him as rather cold. ”we can just drop it.”

the decision in his eyes doesn’t waver. you look meek, awfully troubled, and he hates to force you into another discussion when you’re undoubtedly tired — but suguru’s mind is set. he’s been evasive enough, today.

”no. i want to talk about it properly.”

at that, you seem to deflate a little. suguru is nothing if not stubborn, a quality that always manages to coexist with his gentleness, his desire to be a good partner for you. you can tell he won’t allow you to wriggle away, now that you’re both finally calm. he’s not doing it to exhaust you, not doing it to gain some sort of satisfaction out of ”winning” the argument — he’s doing it because he knows it’s the right thing to do. even if it makes you both a little uncomfortable.

communication is important, immensely so. suguru knows it very well.

and you do, too.

so all you do is curl into yourself, shifting in your seat, allowing him to speak his mind and sipping quietly on your tea. biting back a disgruntled huff, gaze lingering on the tablecloth, little calico cats etched into the fabric. he wanted one with yellow stripes, but still bought this one just for you. just like the ugly matching couple mugs you forced him into buying, the green colour of your kitchen wallpaper. he always places you before himself.

(all you wanted was to change that. just for a night, if nothing else. and he got mad at you for it.)

suguru sighs. it sounds fatigued, not frustrated or disappointed. he runs a hand through his hair, and you can’t help but follow the movement, the soft silky strands and the way he smooths them over. practiced, familiar, absentminded. you could watch him do it forever.

”i had a lot of time to think while you were gone,” he begins, recalling the mental gymnastics he went through while you were away. just sitting on the couch and running himself ragged, trying to be impartial, trying to see your point of view without letting his own bias get in the way.

you sink a little further into the chair, eyes downcast. inhaling the scent of peppermint, trying to prepare yourself for what he might say, the ways this could all go wrong.

”and i realized that you were right.”

…

you blink. once, then twice.

hesitantly, you raise your head, searching for suguru’s gaze. he isn’t looking at you, staring out at the rainfall through the window as if in deep thought. his gaze shifts to meet yours, and something soft flickers through his golden eyes.

he looks troubled, though. trying to find the right words, mind clouded by guilt. chewing at his bottom lip anxiously.

it takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, to weigh the words in his mind, just to make sure he gets them across as smoothly as possible. he’s had more than enough time to verbalize his feelings, to think about what he wants to say to you. it was all he could do while he waited.

so his voice is earnest, when he continues, sincerely apologetic and thought out.

”i’m always telling you not to overwork yourself. and here i am, doing the same thing…” another sigh. ”you were just worried. i shouldn’t have lashed out — you didn’t deserve that.”

suguru searches for your gaze, and manages to find it. you falter a little under the weight of his eyes, but they’re warm, remorseful. a setting sun.

”i’m sorry.”

a moment of silence passes. then two. three, five. you look down at your cup, the purple hyacinths etched into the porcelain. crumbling under his gaze, at the sound of his genuine apology.

and suddenly, you feel silly — silly for being so scared, for thinking suguru might still be angry with you. for thinking he wouldn’t spend as much time as needed to properly think about your words, your feelings, even if he might not have been ready to do so when he first heard them.

suguru can be stubborn, if he’s convinced that he’s in the right. but he always, always seeks you out eventually, always makes sure to genuinely look at things from your perspective.

and, really, it means everything. it means enough to wash away all your leftover irritation, from having him brush you off when you know you didn’t do anything wrong. all the leftover sadness from being pushed away, from not being allowed to take care of him the way he always does for you.

suguru isn’t perfect, but he tries harder than anyone you know. tries his very best to be as close to perfect as he can possibly get — for you, for the both of you. he’s considerate enough, mature enough to take the time he needs to properly communicate. that’s how much he loves you.

and yes, doing so makes you a little uncomfortable. but when faced with something like that, someone so kind, who loves you like the rain loves the ground — how could you ever bear not to do the same?

”… it’s fine,” you start, softly. ”maybe i overreacted a bit. ’s just —” a gulp. you’re trying your best to verbalize your feelings, the way suguru just did, the way he always does.

and he waits, patiently. for as long as you need. looking at you from across the table softly, already immensely relieved at the lack of tension in the air.

”i don’t like seeing you so tired. i know that your work is important, and i support you, but…” your voice goes quiet, as you trail off, hoping he’ll understand what you mean. ”you know.”

and suguru does. he does understand, he always will. so he hums.

”i know,” he murmurs, softly. ”it wasn’t an overreaction. i just didn’t realize it myself. got too caught up in everything,” a sharp exhale leaves his lips. ”it’s been… a long week. i’m not using that as an excuse, though.”

you listen attentively, eyes softening at his words. you can tell that he means it, that you finally got your message across. all you wanted was for him to take a break, to take care of himself.

to let you take care of him.

suguru continues. he makes it a point to look into your eyes as he speaks — a little intimidating, especially in a situation like this — but you know it reassures him, that it lets him know you really understand what he’s trying to say.

so you hold his gaze, as steady as you can, glancing down at his collarbone when it becomes just a little too much.

”i’m grateful that i have you,” he says, voice dripping with softness, gazing at you with a fondness that has you crumbling all over again. ”and that you care enough to set me straight when i need it.”

and suguru means it. he means it more than anything else. not once has he ever stopped appreciating you, all the things you do for him; always so sweet and caring, even when it’s subtle. this was no exception. you’re always worried, always looking out for him. he feels awful for getting so defensive. for pushing you away, when you were trying so earnestly to reach him.

but he’ll make up for all of that, starting now.

”i mean it. i appreciate you so much, you have no idea — i’m so sorry if i made you think otherwise.” for a moment, his eyes look a little glassy, swimming in remorse. ”i really, really am.”

(and when he looks at you like that, when he speaks so very gently —

how could you ever bear not to forgive him?)

you shift in your seat again. gazing down, chewing at your bottom lip. his honesty makes you falter, makes it hard for you not to do the same; even if your voice ends up sounding awfully tiny and awfully close to breaking apart.

”… i was just worried,” you mumble, meekly, shooing away any tears you have left with rapid blinks.

”i know,” suguru soothes. the smile on his face is genuine, comforting, honey and peppermint and warmth. ”i was being immature. you were right — i’ve been burning myself out.”

you don’t say anything. only letting his words console you, feeling yourself relax at the sound of him opening up a little. just enough to make everything all better again.

”i was thinking of taking tomorrow off,” he continues, searching for your timid gaze and smiling gently once he finds it. ”what do you say?”

you brighten a little, so obvious in the way you sit up straighter, the way something soft and hopeful blossoms in the scope of your iris. the sight coaxes suguru’s patient smile into widening a smidge, his eyes crinkling at your barely contained excitement.

”that’d be nice…” you murmur, averting your gaze once more. but suguru can tell you like the sound of that, that it’s exactly what would finally put your anxious mind at ease.

a smile, bright and fond. suguru opens his arms.

”then i will.”

for a moment, you simply stare. at him, his outstretched limbs — that soft smile, as he waits for you to get the hint. and you blink.

oh.

you look down at your lap. a little sheepish, almost shy. it takes you another moment to raise your head, again, only to see another gentle flicker in suguru’s eyes — and then you finally get up from your seat.

it feels a little strange. a little awkward, as if some of your bones still can’t help but tread on eggshells, afraid of making him upset again. but it’s suguru, and he loves you, and his arms are waiting patiently to hold you.

and you want that more than anything.

so you fall into his arms, softly, curling up in his lap and wrapping your arms around his waist. suguru has one hand on the back of your head and the other on the small of your back, rubbing comforting circles into your spine to make you relax.

it works wonders. despite your initial hesitance, you melt into the embrace without putting up a fuss — happy to be in his arms again, to feel the anxiety dissipate when you realize that everything’s finally alright.

and suguru is just as happy, just as content. breathing out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding. he strokes your hair lovingly, and you nuzzle into him a little more; making his lips quirk up, eyes filling with adoration. finally, he can relax. having you in his arms feels so soothing. and you’re so sweet, curling into him, seeking comfort and warmth that he’s more than happy to provide.

how long has it been since he had a chance to hold you like this? he made sure to be affectionate whenever he could, before leaving for work and after coming back — but in the midst of all the paperwork and stress…

suguru sighs, a little sadder this time, watching you bask in the attention he had been robbing you of this whole time. without even realizing it.

”and i’m sorry for neglecting you, too,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. muffled by your hair as he presses a kiss against the crown of your head.

that certainly gets your attention.

”neglecting me?” you sputter, eyes suddenly wide open and lips parted in disbelief. flustered, heat rushing to your neck and ears. ”wha — what am i, some high-maintenance puppy? you didn’t neglect me.”

suguru only chuckles, biting back a soft coo that he knows would only fluster you more. instead, he pulls away a little, just to look at you, and pecks your forehead softly.

”well, i’m sorry for not being around much, then. i’ll make it up to you. okay?”

hiding away in his collarbone, again, you mutter a soft okay that has suguru’s heart squeezing in his chest. he cradles you close, engulfs you in his embrace, and hopes you can feel his love through the action. hopes you can feel it in the way his arms fit around you like they were always meant to be right there.

and you do feel his love. feel it smooth away the leftover turmoil in your brain, caress your skin softly. it’s soothing, and comforting, and you feel so incredibly safe. here, in suguru’s embrace, with the sound of rain hitting the window and the scent of peppermint wafting through the kitchen — it’d be impossible not to relax.

before you know it, your eyelids have fluttered shut, breathing softening out and heartbeat slowing down. a peaceful rhythm, carrying you away. suguru notices it before you do.

”you sleeping, baby?”

you jolt a little in his arms — murmuring something unintelligible into his neck, and he only chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest like a soothing thunderstorm.

”c’mon. let’s get you to bed, hm?”

suguru smooths a hand down your back, arms tightening around you before he scoops you up and gets up from his seat. ”there we go,” he hums, helping you hike your legs around his waist. ”you can sleep, angel. i’ve got you.”

your arms tighten around him, and you inhale his scent; grounding and comforting, raindrops and roses. tomorrow you can bask in it properly, can take care of him properly. you’ll coddle him all day.

but for now, you need to get some rest.

allowing your senses to dull away, clinging to suguru like a makeshift pillow, you absently listen to the storm still raging on outside. faraway, cold and harsh, but comforting when you’re in his steady grasp.

a yawn escapes your honey-soothed throat.

you don’t miss the i love you murmured into your ear, accompanying you into dreamland as your eyes flutter shut.

#geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #suguru geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto fluff #geto hurt/comfort #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk hurt/comfort

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pandoraslxna · 5 months

Text

❄️ Kinkmas — 01. Cockwarming ❄️

Neteyam x female human reader

⋆｡° ✮ Minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Kinkmas Masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: cockwarming, soft morning sex, fluff, size difference, belly bulge

⋆｡° ✮ Translations: ngaytxoa = sorry / my apologies, tsawke = sun, mowan = pleasing / enjoyable (physically, sexually), yawne = beloved

⋆｡° ✮ For my precious @viviartsy who requested fluffy morning sex 🩵

It was winter on pandora, one of those late days when everything was so cold that no matter how much wood you placed into the fire or under how many blankets and furs you buried yourself in, there were still goosebumps on your arms.

On top of it being the hard frost of winter, it was also early, and the sun was just barely starting to shine over the horizon, leaving the marui a fuzzy blue-gray. Loosely-closed cloths that served as curtains filtered light in, everything painted in the cool tones of a winter morning.

The first rustle in the blankets came from you, soft skin sliding against the blue of your mate’s, the woven sheets whispering icey secrets. You could feel the cold in your bones, but also in Neteyams body as he pressed himself closer to you.

"You’re cold…", you whispered.

"Ngaytxoa…" He sounds so alien when he’s drowsy, everything almost growled or purred or chirred, all at the same time. In these moments he often forgets to switch to the sky people’s language.

The sheets whispered again as you turned around, shifting ever so slowly to welcome the much bigger na‘vi into your arms, let him scoot closer until he’s laying between your soft thighs, face buried against your chest and his arms holding you close. He’s so cold, you could feel it in his chest, in his thighs, where he was usually so warm.

As much as the Na‘vi resembled what your kind called a cat, they were much like reptiles during the colder days, hardly moving until they were warmed up. Sleeping nude didn’t help much, but it was so hard to give up on touching each other. With you so close, hands sliding over his back and arms, cradling the back of his head, you could feel the more cat-like side of him rising, rubbing against you so slowly, soaking you in, seeking your warmth.

"Y’so warm, tsawke." The words were slow and mumbled against the skin of your breasts. His hands found your hips, sliding down to the curve of your bottom, where icy fingers pressed into your flesh, kneading a handful of each cheek. His tail tangled with your ankle, while he tried to wrap you around him like a blanket, slowly rocking his body against yours.

Your legs tightened around his middle and you felt him move, his skin pressed so closely to yours anywhere he could.

You almost didn’t notice the slight pressure from something hard prodding at your thigh if it didn’t send a chill right through you. As his blood heated up, so did the rest of him as well it seems. He felt like he was made of ice against you, but he was starting to warm and it seemed he wasn’t the only thing waking up. Morning sex was almost a constant for you both, and not even the grip of winter could dissuade his libido.

"Need you", Neteyam groaned lowly, a little short of words but you knew exactly what he was asking for.

"Come here", you smiled softly. The words are whispered between you both, not wanting to break the silence that the season brought this early in the morning.

Sliding into you was like diving into a hot spring, wet and warm. Your walls wrapped around him like a blanket and it made him melt into you, a content sigh of relief leaving his lips.

He shuddered as he bottom out, almost pulling away before settling on you again and rolling his hips slowly before coming to an halt completely. You could only imagine how intense the temperature difference was for him like this, especially with how sensitive he was in the morning.

You could feel him bulging your stomach, your own arousal smearing between your fused bodies which raised even more goosebumps on your skin.

Neteyam doesn’t even get a chance to voice his comfort before your walls ripple, tightening around his cock as if to proof that this was the best way to warm him up, then loosening just a bit before starting again.

You moaned softly as the pulsing of his cock got stronger, while your body subconsciously worked his length, giving him the best kind of a massage. Eywa, Neteyam doubt anything na‘vi could ever feel better as his precious human mate did.

"Mmh… mowan, ywane", he breathed heavily, "haa, fuck…"

"Does it feel good?", you murmured, a smile pulling at your lips as you let your eyes flutter closed.

"Hmh, soo good…."

He barely rolled his hips then, pushing further into you while you moaned softly. Your hips moved to meet his, then setting still so that he nudged perfectly against that spongey spot deep inside you that drove you both crazy, and apparently one of the very few ways for him to finish quickly.

You couldn’t even count the times he had fucked you senseless and purposefully knocked the fat tip of his cock against your cervix, just to work himself to his own end. The thought about doing this to his small human mate so effortlessly always had his mind spiraling. He was always so limp and almost loopy with satisfaction then. He cuddled a lot more than usual after those times too, though that’s not saying much.

Now though, now it was just the barest rub against it, feeling the bulge of your tummy and listening to the sweet sounds you made while keeping him warm. You felt more than heard the rumble in his chest that wasn’t really a purr and more like a muffled moan.

Time passed indefinitely like that, wrapped around each other and barely moving at all. You might’ve fallen back asleep if it weren’t for the tingly feeling of being so full of him that kept you from drowsing off.

Neteyam warmed steadily from there, until both of your bodies were the same temperature and you couldn’t tell where he started and you ended. After a while, he started to move a little, small little trusts every few minutes, although he was not quite fully awake yet. You could feel that he was still half asleep, though he sounded ready to finish soon enough. You shifted slightly to kiss the top of his head where it was still nestled between your breasts, then his shoulder, before you begin to leave a trail from there to his jaw.

Neteyam also began to shift then, just enough for your lips to meet gently as he rolled his hips against yours, his length swallowed up into the warmth of your deliciously slick cunt. The new pace made you both pant softly against each others lips.

You went back to kissing after a few breaths, a bit more insistent this time and with more hunger behind it. Both of your bodies kept crawling so slowly towards your climax, prepared to go over the edge as soon as you were both ready for it.

"Nng… close, m‘close…", Neteyam‘s voice was muffled, both of your moans swallowed by the kiss. "Feels so good, so warm."

"M- Me too", you whimpered softly, clenching your thighs around his hips to pull him in deeper. The position allowed your clit to gently rub against his pubic bone, the friction adding just enough to your growing orgasm.

Your shared orgasm comes just as slow and quietly as the rest of this has been, the constant feeling of pressure on his cock and then the little rolls of his hips guiding you both over the edge with low groans, sweet little moans and a short, sharp thrust. He makes a sound that’s so incredibly content that you can’t help but smile down at him as he basks in your climax. You can feel him squirming around, his cock twitching and throbbing as your walls milk him, sucking down every drop. God, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to this, to the warmth spreading so deep on your belly you felt hot all over.

After this, Neteyam nuzzles himself even closer to you, his tail swishing under the blanket like a happy puppy because he feels the way you warm up around him even more, spending heat to him like a cozy fireplace.

"I love you", he sighs and then finally blinks his eyes open to look up at you and you swear you lose yourself in those warm, sun kissed orbs. The only real, golden warmth of the sun this season holds and you think you could live forever with just them.

#avatar12daysofkinkmas #Neteyam #atwow #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #atwow neteyam #avatar neteyam #neteyam smut #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x you

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that-sarcastic-writer · 6 months

Text

A Love Game II

DI!Single!Dad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You, Leon, in his bedroom. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it children), p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms (f receiving), hair pulling, minor choking, creampie, praising, soft!dom!leon, Leon has kinda of an innocence kink, parent/teacher dynamic, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, foul language

WC: 4.4k

A/N: yay I made it past the 2 part mark for a "series" how exciting. I hope I can post this in peace. For anyone that cared enough to want more parts, here we are. There's some more in the works. What do we say? Do we want to see this second date and leon being dumb and in love? Dunno when those will come out but, for now here's this.

Part I | Universe Masterlist

Were you really driving halfway across town to get laid?

Absolutely.

Leon didn't even have to ask you twice. It wasn't like you had much going on anyway. And you really wanted to see him.

You made it three, maybe four feet into his apartment, enough for you to take a look at him. Hair wet like he had just taken a shower, shirtless, and only a pair of pajama pants hung from his hips. That man was without a doubt, trying to drive you insane. Though you had concluded you were in fact insane, the second you said yes to going out with him.

"Hi." You stood in front of him, the scent of his body wash taking you in. A mixture of light bourbon and vanilla. It wasn't overbearing, but it was definitely intoxicating. That, or you were already drunk on the thought of him.

"Hi." His lips irked up and he leaned down, lips barely brushing over yours as he threaded his fingers through your hair. "I really wanted to see you again."

You were in his bedroom in record time. Somehow in between hushed laughs and messy kisses, always doing your best to stay quiet. But ultimately, he closed the door behind you, his body pressing you against it as he kissed you.

His lips were hard on your own, messy on your jaw, like he didn't know which part he wanted to kiss more. Your fingers were entangled in his perfectly soft honey brown strands, already melting under his touch. His hand came up under your jaw to grip your face in place, long fingers sprawled out over your neck. He pulled you back by your face and his eyes were hard on you, with this mixture of authority and utter need to fuck you. He could be both.

"This is how this is gonna be. I'm going to throw you on that bed and fuck you the way you deserve. But I better not hear a single fucking sound leave those pretty lips of yours. Not tonight. Got it?"

Your jaw hung agape, a sharp shudder leaving your lips at his words laced with confidence and dominance. Christ, the things this man made you feel. You felt like you would have slipped right onto the floor had he not been pressing you against the door with his body. It took a long hard look from the ocean of blue that were his eyes for you to even speak.

"I.. Yeah. I'll be quiet. I just.." You swallowed, lip quivering with anticipation, your hands landing flat against his chest, attempting to grip at something other the hairs across his chest. "I need you, please."

Leon watched you ever so amused, flashes of lust and need overcoming his otherwise stoic eyes. And his lips irked up with malice.

"You sweet girl," He gripped your chin between two fingers, tilting your head ever so slightly to look over your pretty face. The need to see this face covered in tears as you begged him to come overcame his rational mind. All he could think about was ruining you. "How is it possible for such a pretty and innocent looking thing to ever be so needy?"

"You. You do this to me. I've never—" You wetted your dry lips, a wave of heat flashing between your thighs as your voice died in your throat.

I've never wanted to be ruined by someone.

I've never wanted to be fucked into nothing.

Until I met you.

The words never left your lips, though. All you could do was look at him with those pleading eyes of yours, hoping he would understand.

And fuck, did he understand.

His mouth was on yours without another word being spoken. You were more than eager to let him take over. His hands guided you carefully through his bedroom as his lips did with yours as he pleased. He sucked, pulled, and bit all he wanted. And the sounds that would sit in your throat every time he did so only made him all the more eager to have you on his bed.

Your feet were no longer on the floor, and your back hit something soft and warm. With a soft gasp you landed on your back and his body encased you under him. His lips once again found your neck, making work of your skin as his hands fell down your body. He forced your hips off the mattress long enough to push your sweatpants and panties down your hips. You kicked them down the rest of the way with a shiver, watching through half lidded eyes as he lifted his body up enough to settle beside you. Your eyes followed him with confusion, for a moment forgetting about the cold air now settling between your thighs.

"You, Miss, are going to keep your legs wide open for me, okay?" A large hand fell on your thigh, fingers digging into the tender skin for a second before he pulled your legs as far apart as they went. You gasped, unconsciously flinching at the cold air. Leon slightly narrowed his eyes at you. "I remember you like to squirm, and close your legs. But these better stay open, or I will fingerfuck you until you cry. Understood?"

Your lips parted, but you simply nodded, not saying any words out loud.

"Use your words baby, I know you can."

You breathed out a shudder, "Yes, I.. I understand."

Leon flashed you a pleased smile as he positioned himself on his side, his chest pressed against your shoulder and he used his legs to trap one of yours, making sure they stayed open. He didn't trust your self-control very much right now.

"That's a good girl." He leaned down, his lips pulling your own into a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was heated and it was fucking messy. But it was enough to distract you from where his hand was about to go.

His lips parted from yours just enough to leave room for him to spit into his fingers, before his lips were back on yours. Your mouth didn't stay open long though, for the second his fingers grazed your already sensitive clit, you gasped. His lips curved up, his nose brushing against yours as he rubbed slow circles around the nub. It was slow, agonizing, but fuck, it felt so good.

"Oh my—" the words fell from your lips in a quiet whimper, your head falling to the side into Leon's chest as you attempted to quiet yourself, but the longer his fingers worked you the stronger the ache in your stomach became. "Fuck, Leon."

"I know, sweetheart. You're so wet for me. Is this what you wanted me to do to you earlier? Finger you wide open in your bathtub?" He spoke into your ear, his voice was raspy and so full of arousal with each word he said.

You tried to respond, but when you felt two long fingers slip into your wet cunt all you could do was scream. You weren't sure just how muffled the sound was but Leon didn't say anything about it. He definitely heard you, but that only made him want to work his fingers harder. He loved the sound of it, too, the lewd sound of his palm slapping against your wet cunt each time he snapped his wrist. It was his favorite sound— after your moans, of course.

"Shit. Shit. Leon— a-ah—" Your voice was broken as you weakly grinded against his palm, but his fingers were buried so deep already all you could was desperately chase with your hips. Leon only found this all the more arousing.

"Mhmm, yeah, just like that. Fuck yourself on my hand just like that. You look so goddamn pretty." He spat, watching as he curled his fingers against that one spot that made your squirm. The sight of you, pathetically grinding against his hand as you weakly attempted to stay quiet shot straight to his cock.

He needed to fuck you so goddamn bad. But he needed to focus. He could be selfish after.

"Shit, baby, look at yourself. I don't think I've ever seen a more perfect sight." He made you watch, his free hand fisted around the roots of your hair and he held your head in place to watch as he slid his fingers in and out of your soaked cunt. His hand as well as your thighs were glistening with your slick.

The sight was absolutely filthy, the sound more so. But fuck that only made you want to come even more. You couldn't help it. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your mouth fell open in a silent cry, the wind-up in your belly getting tighter and tighter.

"Please. Please Leon. I'm gonna come. I think I'm gonna come." The words came out in parts, high-pitched and in between pants.

Leon bit his lip, feeling the tightness of your walls around his fingers and he hummed, letting go of your hair to clasp a large hand over your mouth. He was shifting his weight more on his side, and he slammed his fingers so hard and so deep his palm rutted against your clit. He was a smart man. The cry you would have let out then would have woken up anyone in that apartment, or next to it.

"Let go for me, pretty, I got you." His fingers left your hole to rub harsh circles on your clit, his fingers so wet he didn't even have to spit on them again.

Though, he did surprise himself with how fast he had started to learn your body, because the second that wave of blinding heat hit you, you were squirming on that mattress like you wanted to run away. He, admittedly selfishly so, slightly ground his own hips against your leg as he fingered you through your orgasm. He could only handle so much with the sounds you had been making and how you oh so desperately wanted to come.

He watched your face, teeth digging marks into his bottom lip as his fingers slowly stopped their rhythm. Only when you couldn't take it anymore and you attempted to squirm away from him, that was.

"You did so good, baby." His lips replaced his hand with a much gentle kiss. He pulled back as he sat up, slipping his coated fingers past his lips in the process. "You taste really fucking good, too."

This man was going to be the fucking death of you.

You breathed out long pants, your forearm over your forehead as you tried to bring yourself back down to earth. You watched him shuffle around a bit. Until he was once again above you, his massive arms caging your head.

"You okay, pretty?" He ran a careful hand over your face, looking you over with tenderness. It warmed your heart just how gentle he could be after absolutely wrecking you.

"Uh huh. I'm perfect." You gave him a lazy smile, throwing your arms around his neck to hold him closer. "Are you going to fuck me now, handsome?"

Leon looked at you with surprise at your shot of confidence, but the look in your eyes was of need. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he tugged his pijama pants down his hips, kicking them off the rest of the way somewhere to join yours. Your sweatshirt was next, and Leon was more than pleased to find you bare under it.

"Just the way you deserve, pretty girl." He pressed a long, hard kiss to your lips before he sat back on his knees.

Your legs hung lazily over his hips, completely at his mercy as he slowly rubbed himself through your folds, covering himself in your slick. Your lips fell open into a soft whimper. Leon shot you a small grin, his blue eyes filled with a wave of lust not once leaving your face as he slowly slid into you. His own lips parted and a grunt fell from them as your walls took him in. It was intoxicating. He was fucking addicted to it.

"Goddamn baby, you take me so well." He sighed out, grinding his hips ever so slightly, enough to make you whine.

"Leon, please. Just take me." You whined, slightly grinding your hips to give yourself some relief. He tilted his head at you, both hands gripping your hips with a tight grip.

"Why are we so needy today, hm?" He teased, lazily dragging his cock in and out, not stopping but also not giving you what you wanted.

"Ugh— you! You do this to me." You all but shouted at him, instantly regretting your volume and you swallowed hard at the glare he shot you.

"I swear to God if you woke up my daughter." He groaned and leaned down, picking up his pace without a warning. "I am so going to fuck this attitude out of you."

Any and all witty comebacks you could have come up with then were lost the second he started to drill into you, the angle making you feel the little hairs at the base of his cock brush against your clit with each snap of his hips. Your body would have slid back and forth on the mattress had it not been for the tight grip he kept on your hips. You were sure you were going to have his fingers printed on your skin in the morning. But God, you didn't care at all.

"Shit— shit Leon— you feel so—" You whined into the air, your head falling to the side to muffle your cries on one of his pillows.

"Feels good, baby?" He gave you a particular deep thrust that made you slide up the mattress and you nodded harshly. "Yeah?"

"More—" You breathed out, mindlessly reaching for him, only finding his wrist.

Leon bit his already puffy red lip, long strands of hair falling over his forehead as he moved above you, his body now hovering over yours. Your knees were now damn near next to your head as he kept fucking you into the mattress. The new angle made you see fucking heaven now.

"Like that?"

You barely missed his words entirely, you were so drunk on the feeling of his cock, on his scent now mixed with your own. You didn't know many things, but of one thing you were certain, you could never get enough of this man.

"Yes, yes, yes." You chanted into the air, almost delirious, like a praise only meant for his ears.

Leon grunted softly, leaning down to brush hid nose against yours. He spoke words of praise so quiet you would have missed them had he not been so close. Your hands were on his face, barely holding on to him for dear life. His lips found your wrist, then your palm and in an instant one of his hands gathered both of yours, pinning them both above your head. You were absolutely helpless and at his mercy. And you wouldn't want it any other way.

"Are you gonna come for me, pretty girl?" He slurred the words against your cheek, his cock buried so deep it was only a matter of time before you fell apart. You gave him a half nod, mouth agape as quiet moans fell on his ears. "Yeah, you are. I want to feel you come on my cock, c'mon. Fuck— I need to feel you come on my cock again."

"God Leon— fuck— I'm gonna—" Your back arched against his chest, toes curling as wave of pleasure overcame your body. And it only took the feeling of his thumb on your swollen clit to fall apart completely.

His mouth covered yours as your body convulsed under his, your orgasm hitting you so hard you were squeezing the shit out of Leon's hand above you. He happily swallowed the cries from your mouth as he continued to drill into you, rutting himself against you. He could only control himself for so long.

"Fuck me— Goddamn baby, you drive me crazy. You take me so fucking well." He grunted against your cheek, his free hand now sprawled across your neck. He didn't squeeze this time, he only held you as he gave you one, two more thrusts of his hips before he was spilling himself inside you. "Atta girl. Atta girl."

His lips were lazy on your cheek, leaving gentle kisses in his wake. A drunken giggle left your lips at the slight tickle his stubble left on your skin. His hands were now beside your head and he lifted his head enough to look at you.

"Doing okay, pretty?" He asked with this pussy-drunk smile on his face, one of his fingers brushing the side of your face, "hm?"

"Yeah, I'm living my best life." You giggled softly, opening your eyes to find his sapphire ones staring sweetly at you.

"Sure you are, with my dick deep enough to feel me in your stomach, what more could you ask?" He teased, his lips curved up into a smug grin. You widened your eyes at him and smacked his shoulder.

"You're insufferable." You rolled your eyes at him and attempted to move from under him but he was a brick wall above you, he refused to move a muscle.

"You adore me. Wouldn't be here otherwise." He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and removed himself from you. His words lingered on your mind. You weren't sure what the fuck it was that you felt for this man, other than the utter need to be fucked by him. But outside of the obvious chemistry, you wanted to be around him, to be around Isabella. You couldn't help it. You were catching feelings for him and his little girl.

You watched with big eyes as he stood up and walked around the bed, you couldn't help but giggle a bit. He turned to shoot you a questioning glance.

"You actually took your pants off today."

Leon furrowed his eyebrows even more confused and looked down, in fact very naked, "Yeah?"

"You didn't last time," You laughed softly, sitting up, amused by the way his cheeks flushed a light shade of pink.

"How would you know that? You were on your stomach, then on your back the whole night." He teased you back, making big eyes at you.

"I heard your belt rattle the whole time.'" You rolled your eyes, now sitting on your knees at the edge of the bed to meet where he stood. He narrowed his eyes at you as he leaned down to meet your lips.

"Guess I was that eager to fuck your brains out." He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he nudged to his bathroom. "Clean you up, then maybe, stay the night?"

"Really? You scrunched up your face at him, eyes slightly widening at the idea of being in his bedroom while Izzy was down the hall. But you had to admit you couldn't say no to this man. "I mean, that'd be nice but—"

"Hey, don't worry. She doesn't have to know you're here if that's what's on your mind. We'll get there when we have to."

We'll get there when we have to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't sure exactly when morning came. Leon had closed the blinds before getting into bed with you last night. Tiredly so, after he decided taking you one last time would be ideal. You had decided to spend the night with him. What was the worst that could happen, right?

An embracing warmth surrounded your body, and it wasn't exactly the thick soft duvets that covered you. When sleep slowly slipped from you, your eyes fluttered open to find Leon. Your face was snuggled deep into his chest as his arms were wrapped around you, holding you close, keeping you warm. The bourbon and vanilla lingered on his skin and took you in like the sweetest of greetings. You smiled softly, snuggling further into him. Leon had been awake for a little while. But he refused to get up so as not to wake you, he simply held you, his fingers resting on your scalp soothingly. Only when he felt you stir awake did he move.

"Morning, pretty." His low raspy voice filled your ears and you felt a pair of cold lips on your forehead. You hummed softly, lifting your head to find him already looking at you with those eyes.

"Morning, handsome." You pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone as you laid your head on his chest.

"You sleep okay?" You heard him mumble above you. You nodded.

"Slept nice and warm." You smiled, running your fingers over the prominent patch of hair on his chest.

"I'm good at something after all." He snorted.

You were about to respond with one of your witty comments when you heard a few rapid but soft knocks on the door. The doorknob turned a couple of times with no result since it was locked. You and Leon jumped into a sitting position at the sound. Leon in particular had a 'oh uh' look on his face.

"Daddyyyyyy! Why is your door locked?" You heard Isabella on the other side of the door.

You looked at Leon who was frantically looking on the nightstand for his phone.

"Fuck. Goddammit." You heard him curse under his breath as he harshly stood up, shuffling around the nightstand.

When the fuck did he leave his gun out last night? He groaned to himself. Walking across the room with his handgun in one hand and his phone in the other. Which you clearly didn't miss.

"Leon, why do you have a gun right now?" You asked, anxiously holding the covers up to your chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious and embarrassed.

"Government issue. Forgot to put it in my safe last night." He answered over his shoulder as he went into his walk-in closet, he came out a minute later. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I completely forgot she had to get up early today. Let me get her in the shower then I'll be back, okay?"

You pursed your lips softly, a bit disappointed you wouldn't be able to spend the morning with him. But it was understandable, his daughter was first, and it certainly wasn't time to introduce, well whatever the two of you were. He leaned down to capture your lips into an apologetic kiss.

"'S okay. Go, take care of Izzy, I'll be here."

He shot you a smile and nodded. He found his pants from the night prior and slipped on a random sweatshirt he found sitting on his dresser. He shot you a wink before he slipped out the door, closing it behind him.

"Daddy."

Leon was met with a very grumpy and frowny little girl as soon as he closed his bedroom door. His eyes widened at the sight of her with her arms crossed.

"Yes, bee?" Play dumb. Why not?

"Why was your door locked?" She repeated her question from earlier, sapphire eyes intensely staring him down. Like he was a suspect that needed intimidation and she was the agent doing the intimidating.

"'Cause I'm an adult and I can lock my door. What did I tell you about minding your business?" He gave her a look, but he wasn't being serious, not really. Her face didn't otherwise change, though.

"I'm going to be late, daddy."

"No, you're not. Isn't your ballet lesson at 9:00 a.m? It's 7:00 a.m." Leon rolled his eyes at his little girl and picked her up. She, of course, didn't protest at all.

"Well, yeah, but I want breakfast." She rebutted. Leon couldn't help but chuckle at her.

He took her to her bedroom, setting her on her bed before he walked to her closet.

"Yeah, well, you're taking a shower first, bee, you stink." He snorted when she very loudly disagreed, that she did not, in fact, stink.

"I do not! You do!"

"I showered last night. I can't stink. Your nose doesn't work." He kept annoying her until he found her ballet clothes. He walked back to her bed, handing her the folded clothes. "Go on, go shower. Just don't get your hair wet, remember I have to put it up, okay?"

"Okay daddy." Izzy happily took her clothes and skipped out of her bedroom, but not before popping her head back in to say, "Can I have waffles for breakfast please? With lots of syrup and bacon?"

Leon looked at Izzy with soft eyes, his heart warming ever so slightly at his little girl, and he nodded.

"Of course, Izzy. Whatever you want." He waved her away and she happily skipped, going on about her daddy being the best daddy in the world. He couldn't help but laugh to himself and at the wonderful daughter life decided to give him.

When Leon returned to his bedroom he watched you hurry back to his bed like a child that just got caught doing something you weren't supposed to. He raised an amused eyebrow at you when you slightly bounced on his bed, eyes big as you tried to hide the smile on your lips.

"You're so nosy." He chuckled, rolling his eyes at you.

"What? I wasn't doing anything.." You bit your lip softly, holding back a giggle. "Just that your little girl has you wrapped around her finger."

If he had rolled his eyes any harder, they would have gotten stuck there. But the tiny curve on his lips told you he was more than happy about it. He shrugged as he stood in front of you, leaning down to your eye level.

"She's not the only one." He grinned softly at the confused look you gave him. "I know it's soon but I can't stop thinking about you. You're sweet, absolutely gorgeous and you're kind to my little girl. So, maybe you'd like to try something with me?"

"If you wanted to ask me on another date you could just say so, you know my answer." There was a playful smile on your lips as he leaned down to kiss you.

"After I drop Izzy off at ballet? We could grab brunch, and, I don't know, let's do something you like. How does that sound, Miss?"

Christ, you felt so stupid, so naive, like this could go all kinds of wrong but, what's the worst that could happen?

“Sounds like a start, Mr. Kennedy.”

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x you #single!dad!leon #DI!Leon

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 month

Text

Honey Girl. Chapter Eight.

chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five. chapter six. chapter seven. series masterlist. the playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - Turns out, you’re not the only ones with a secret.

Pairing - Dadsbestfriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - cursing. mentions of hospitals/medical settings.

Word Count - 5k

Authors Note - I promise that the reveal was supposed to be in this part!! but I hit 5k words real quick and thought rather than rush it, I’d give it its full own chapter. guess what’s coming next ;). as always, thank you for your love and support and patience and encouragement and kindness. don’t know where I’d be without it <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

The sun beams through the white linen curtains, salty ocean breeze drifting through the open window. The rays warm your skin as you kick off the sheets, stretching your arms above your head. You turn over, to find the space next to you empty.

Rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes, you yawn, inhaling the scent of breakfast. Throwing on Bucky’s soft blue button up, you pad out to the kitchen to find him at your stovetop, shirtless and sun kissed.

“I’m getting the full girlfriend experience, huh?”

He grins at the sound of your voice, entire body lighting up with it.

“Girlfriend,” he laughs. “This is the soulmate experience, baby. It’s even better.”

You shake your head, but you can’t fight the smile that etches itself on your face. He looks so at home here, so comfortable. He reaches up to grab a plate from your cupboard, and you feel the sudden urge to burst into tears.

He knows where everything is.

He’s learnt his way around the kitchen just like he’s learnt his way around your heart. Your soul. Your very existence.

“You okay?”

He turns off the burner and glides over to you, warm hands finding your hips like it’s second nature.

“What’s wrong? You like pancakes,” he teases, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead tenderly. “Oh no. Did you want waffles?”

You shake your head, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

“I’m fine,” you say, but your voice cracks instantly.

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

He says it so gently, so carefully. You feel like a precious flower, something to be taken care of, cherished, loved. No one has ever made you feel like this.

“I just realised you… fit, here. Like you were always supposed to. I can’t really remember what this apartment was like before it had you in it too.”

Bucky cradles your face in his hands, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Wherever you are. That’s where my home is.”

You surge forwards to press your lips to his, alive and buzzing with the electricity of being loved so wholly. He reciprocates instantly, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you closer, so you’re chest to chest.

“Your pancakes are going to burn,” you mumble, forehead resting on his.

“Let them.”

“No, don’t let them. I’m not calling the fire department today.”

He laughs, kissing you again chastely before returning to his original position. He plates up your breakfast - pancakes, fruit, granola and yoghurt, with fresh coffee in your favourite mug.

“I could get used to this.”

“And you will,” he flirts, kissing the crown of your head. “Every day for the rest of your life, baby. You’re gonna have to wake up to my face forever.”

You pretend to shudder, laughing when he pinches your side.

“Come on, trouble. Let’s eat breakfast on the balcony and pretend we’re on a tropical vacation somewhere.”

“Sounds perfect.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“We’re really doing this.”

You look up at Bucky, the heavy weight of his arm around your shoulders acting as a grounding agent. Your plates are discarded on the table, cleared and finished, the two of you curled up in your loveseat. The sun is getting warmer, and it’s bringing out Bucky’s freckles, all boyish and glowy.

“We don’t have a choice.”

“Honey girl, there’s always a choice.”

“Not this time,” you sigh, shifting so you can face him properly. “I wanted to do this on our terms, and now I feel like I’ve been forced into it. It isn’t fair.”

“We can wait,” Bucky reassures, confident and understanding. “We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready.”

“I am ready. I have been for a while. It just sucks that it feels like I’ve been pushed in a certain direction, you know?”

“I know,” he soothes, work rough fingertips tracing patterns on your bare legs. “But like you said, we were going to do it anyway. This is still our choice. These are still our terms.”

You press your lips onto his cheek, chuckling when his stubble tickles your skin. He retaliates by attacking you with kisses, planting them all over your face, wherever he can reach. You squeal, hands flying out to his bare chest to try and stop him.

“Your neighbours are going to think there’s a murder happening,” Bucky laughs, fingers sliding up your shirt to rest on your ribs.

“Oh no, they love you too much for that.”

He quirks his eyebrows in surprise.

“They do?”

“The lady that lives next door, Mrs Daniels - she’s like ninety, has that white cat you always see?”

Bucky nods in recognition, so you continue.

“She talks about how handsome you are every time I see her. Always asks when the ‘man that looks like a movie star’ is coming over next.”

He laughs, shaking his head as you tease him.

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious! She probably watches you come and go from her balcony. She’s gonna love it in the summer, when you turn up in your short shorts with no shirt on.”

Bucky chuckles, pulling you into him and leaning his head on top of yours.

“Don’t be jealous, baby. You’re the only one for me.”

“I better be,” you chide jokingly, pinching his thigh in warning.

“I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”

There’s no humour, anymore. Just love. So much love.

“I’m here now,” you whisper. “And I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

Bucky leans in to press a kiss to your lips, gentle and filled with a lifetimes worth of promise.

“I love you, honey baby.”

“I love you, Bucky Barnes.”

You let the morning sun slip over you like silk sheets, warm and smooth and completely luxurious. Bucky’s steady breathing grounds you slowly as peace and contentment settle into your bones, weighted and calming. No matter what happens today, you know one thing for certain - you have the security of Bucky’s love to fall back on.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You’ve been sat in Bucky’s truck for twenty five minutes.

It’s parked down the block from your parent’s house, just out of the way. You were pulling in to their street when you panicked, begging Bucky to stop the car so you could breathe for a second.

“Sweet girl, we’ll be fine.”

“I know. I know,” you exhale. Inhale again. “Why is this so hard?”

“Because we’ve been thinking about this moment ever since that first night.”

“It’s almost been a year.”

That seems to stop Bucky in his tracks for a second.

“It… it doesn’t feel that long. Feels like yesterday. But also, somehow, like I’ve loved you my whole life.”

You lean over the console to kiss him softly, trying to ignore the hummingbird fluttering of your heart in your chest.

“Honey, I can feel your anxiety, remember? If you don’t calm down a little, we’ll both collapse.”

“Sorry,” you laugh, taking a deep breath. “Sorry.”

Bucky intertwines his fingers with yours, thumb running over the backs of your knuckles. Soothing, like a field of lavender gently blowing in the breeze on the first day of spring.

“We have to do it sometime.”

“I know,” you nod, squeezing his hand once, twice, three times before pulling away and fixing your hair in the tiny mirror. “Let’s do this. Now or never.”

You pull up outside your childhood home, instantly relaxing a little at the sight of the colourful drapes and flowers in the windows.

“Shit, Buck. We haven’t even planned what we’re gonna say.”

“We don’t need to. Just speak from your heart, baby. I’ll follow your lead.”

When you walk up the driveway, you know there’s no turning back. You also know that the weight on your shoulders will feel a hell of a lot less heavy when you leave. It’s a double edged sword, but you’re ready to wield it, with love as your armour and Bucky as your shield.

You stand a foot apart and ring the doorbell, bouncing nervously on the soles of your feet.

“Hi, sweetheart. Oh - hey, Buck.”

“Hi, Mama.”

“Hi, Lori.”

“Didn’t expect to see you both today.”

You go to speak, but she continues quickly.

“I’m glad you’re here. We need to talk to you both about something. Come in, come in.”

You look at Bucky, realising suddenly that your chest is filled with a foreign anxiety. It’s his.

You squeeze his hand chastely as you walk past him to enter the house, kicking off your shoes in the hallway.

There’s something in the atmosphere when you walk into the living room. The sun is still shining, everything is in its rightful place… but it feels wrong. You know Bucky feels it too, judging by the way his muscles tense next to you.

“Is everything alright, Mama?”

You hate the way your voice sounds like a child’s, small and naive. Your Dad is sat on the couch waiting, always happy to see you. You press a kiss to his cheek before taking a seat across from him, Bucky sitting next to you. Your Mom joins your Dad, both of them looking at you with too much compassion for a normal day.

“What are you two doing here?” your Dad asks, voice still full of light.

Something inside of you is telling you to abort mission, postpone until further notice. You listen to it, wondering for a second if somehow you and Bucky can send messages to each other telepathically all of a sudden.

“Mama said you needed to talk to me. To us.”

He looks taken aback, only for a second. Something like sadness flashes in his eyes before he paints that familiar smile right back on his face.

“Yeah, we do. You sure you don’t wanna tell us why you’re here, first?”

“It can wait,” you reassure, catching Bucky’s minute nod from the corner of your eye.

“Okay,” your Mom begins. “First of all, I need to tell you not to panic, okay? It’s going to seem super scary, but it isn’t.”

Bucky slides closer to you by a millimetre, but you feel it like it’s a mile.

“I don’t really know how to tell you this, honey, so we’ll just start from the beginning. Jack?”

Your Dad nods before taking over the storytelling.

“It all started last year. I was doing some work in the backyard. One minute I was mowing the lawn, the next I was lying on the ground.”

All of the colour drains from your cheeks, and Bucky slides ever so slightly closer again.

“We thought maybe it was heat stroke, or dehydration. No cause for concern, and nothing your Mom’s iced tea couldn’t fix.”

She takes his hand in hers, both of them with their eyes fixed on you.

“But then it happened again. In the shower, this time. I didn’t hit my head, luckily, but I did whack my shoulder against the tiles, which hurt like hell.”

He laughs, and so does your Mom, but you’re not sure what’s funny. Anxiety is rolling off you in waves so strong, Bucky’s worried he might pass out.

Your Mom takes back the reigns, continuing.

“I was insistent that he saw a doctor, which he was reluctant about. Luckily, he agreed, finally,” she gives him a look, “and we got referred to a specialist.”

“What kind of specialist?” you choke out. It feels like someone is sitting on your chest, constricting your lungs with every passing minute.

“A cardiologist.”

It seems to be that word that unravels everything for you. All you can think is cardiologist heart attack cardiologist surgery cardiologist. Serious. Serious. Serious.

“Sweetheart?”

You grab Bucky’s hand, praying that the familiar touch will ground you back down to Earth. When it doesn’t, you feel like you’re falling, down and down and down with no end in sight.

“Honey, it’s okay. Hey, listen to me. You’re okay.”

Your Mom sits down on the other side of you as your Dad kneels down, forcing you to look at him.

“Sweetheart, don’t panic, okay? Everything’s going to be fine. I know it’s scary, but I’m okay.”

“For now,” you whisper, limp in your throat forming.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, and I know it’s probably not what you were expecting us to say. We thought we’d wait until we had answers to tell you… but it’s taking longer than expected. Which is why we’re telling you now. We don’t want you to feel like you’re in the dark.”

Bucky’s running his thumb over the lines on your palm, reassuring and steady. He knows exactly how to comfort you, like a warm blanket wrapped around your shoulders. If you listen carefully enough, you can hear the drumming beat of his heart. You tune into it, letting the familiar rhythm calm you down.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I’m being dramatic.”

“You’re not being dramatic,” your Mom responds, squeezing her hand over your knee. “It’s overwhelming. And we’ve just… thrown it at you, with no warning. It’s a lot to take in.”

You’re anxious and scared and completely lost. You’re also safe and home and completely surrounded by love from all sides.

“I’m okay,” you nod, taking a deep breath.

Your parents return to their couch across from you, but Bucky’s hand doesn’t let go of yours. If they think it’s strange, they don’t say anything. You have a feeling they’re a little preoccupied.

“Now what?”

“Your Dad is still undergoing tests to get to the root of the issue. Whatever they find, we know we’ll all be okay.”

“Your Mom’s right. I have an appointment this afternoon for an EKG. They’re trying to rule things out slowly. We’ll get to the bottom of it, sweetheart.”

“Are you okay?” you ask, suddenly realising you’ve accidentally made this about you.

“I’m fine,” he laughs. “Seriously. I know it’s scary, but I feel good in myself for the most part. The most annoying thing is that I can’t predict it - it just happens. Very inconvenient, if you ask me.”

Your parents laugh, and this time, you try to chuckle with them.

“You’ll keep us updated, won’t you?”

Bucky’s voice surprises you, somehow. His fingers are still intertwined with yours, but you’ve been so focused on your Dad, you almost forgot he was there.

“Of course, Buck.”

“And if you ever need a ride to an appointment or anything, all you gotta do is ask, alright?”

“You offering to take me on your motorcycle?”

“Sure,” Bucky laughs.

“Absolutely not,” your Mom says at the same time.

You chuckle for real, now. This feels like normality - the four of you, joking around. You have to remind yourself, sometimes, that Bucky knew your Dad before he ever knew you. You were away at culinary school when they met, but you were told stories instantly about this new guy in town who bought the old Garage and drives a cool truck. Your Mom, of course, didn’t fail to mention his big blue eyes and chocolate brown hair, or the way his shirt hugged his biceps. You thought she was exaggerating, when she said he was handsome.

Oh, how wrong you were.

You’re one hundred percent sure you’ve never met a more beautiful person. Maybe it’s your Tethering talking. Maybe it isn’t. You’re not unaware of the way people look at Bucky - he’s got this old school movie star thing going on, and people seem to eat it up. You get it. You get it more than anyone.

But it isn’t his pretty face that makes your heart skip a beat. It’s just him. Him, with his contagious smile and healing laugh and observant eyes. Him, with his confident demeanour but gentle touch, his mind reading abilities, his talent for making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. He’s a rarity, Bucky Barnes. A diamond in the rough. You remind yourself everyday how lucky you are.

He knocks his knee into yours, pulling you out of your daydream. He gives you a look that asks are you okay? to which you nod subtly in reply. A conversation, somehow both silent and loud.

“As much as I’d love to stay here all day, we should get ready to go. My appointment is soon.”

Your Dad strides over to you, wrapping you in his arms. You instantly feel like a little girl again, safe and protected no matter what. You bury your face into his chest a little more, inhaling the familiar scent of your home.

“Everything’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispers into your hair. “Promise.”

You nod against him, tightening your arms ever so slightly. He gives you a squeeze, letting you know he got the message.

As you’re putting your shoes on in the hallway, you can hear your Dad and Bucky chatting away about the baseball game from the previous night, routine easily resumed. Your Mom brushes your hair back from your face, looking at you carefully.

“I almost forgot why you came here in the first place, babygirl. What’s up? What did you want to tell us?”

Your heart skips a beat and Bucky feels it, glancing over to you with concern in his ocean blue eyes.

“It’s okay, Mama. It can wait.”

She raises her eyebrows in scepticism.

“Promise,” you reassure. “Another day.”

She doesn’t look convinced, but lets it go anyway, pressing a kiss to your cheek gently.

“We’ll call you after his appointment and let you know what they say. We love you. So much.”

You hug her fiercely, realising that you don’t do it often enough.

“Love you guys. More than anything.”

Bucky gives you a nod that tells you he’s ready to go, both of you leaving a little different than you entered.

“Call us as soon as you get out of that room, okay?”

“We will, Buck,” your Dad laughs, mock saluting his best friend.

Bucky chuckles, falling into step next to you as you walk down the driveway. You make your way down the street, out of your parents view, before your knees give out. He manages to catch you just in time, strong arms wrapped around your middle. You both sit on the kerbside, Bucky rubbing soft patterns into your back through your shirt.

“Baby, hey. You okay? Talk to me.”

You take a deep breath, looking at him with watery eyes.

“What if it’s bad, Buck?” you whisper. “I can’t do this without him. He’s the best Dad in the world.”

Bucky pulls you closer, fitting you into his side perfectly. Two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, made for each other.

“They don’t lie to you, honey. They’d tell you if it was really serious. All you can do is wait, and hope everything will be okay. Which it will.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, letting his warmth calm you down.

“My Mama knows something.”

“Like what?”

“About us. She didn’t say anything, but I could see it on her face. She didn’t push it any further, but she was definitely suspicious.”

“We’ll tell her soon. Give it a little more time.”

You nod, wrapping your arms around his bicep tightly. He presses a kiss into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he does it.

“Let’s go home, hmm? We can sit in the sun for a while, chop up that pineapple we bought yesterday.”

“Sounds perfect,” you whisper, looking up at him.

The afternoon hits his face just right, all warm yellow light and soft angles on his cheeks. The intermittent salty breeze ruffles his hair, all fluffy and sea swept. He looks like an ancient statue, a work of art from the renaissance, a museum piece. The sun could burn out tomorrow, but you’ll have a life source forever. Your Soulmate.

Bucky takes your hands in his and helps you to your feet, heavy arm slung over your shoulders as you walk back to the truck.

Your light in the dark. Your water in the desert. You’ve never been more grateful for him.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“Close your eyes.”

Bucky’s driving you home, the sound of the ocean waves hitting the shore a replacement for the radio.

“What?”

“Close your eyes, sugar. I want to show you something.”

“How are you gonna show me if my eyes are shut?”

He chuckles, pinching your thigh.

“Just shut up and close your eyes.”

You smile gently before doing as he says, covering your face with your hands for good measure.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise. You’ll like it, I promise.”

You relax back into the seat, allowing the breeze from the open window to whip through your hair. Eventually you come to a stop, Bucky clicking off your seatbelt for you.

“Keep ‘em closed.”

Bucky sprints around to the passenger side, swinging open the door and wrapping his arms around you. He practically carries you out of the car, ensuring you don’t trip while you have no vision. He plants you on two feet, making sure you’re steady before he lets go of you.

“Okay. Open your eyes.”

You blink slowly, adjusting to the brightness of the afternoon.

You’re in the middle of nowhere. The two of you are stood on a huge, grassy plot of land, overlooking a small cove of the beach. You’re tucked completely out of the way, not a neighbour to be seen. All you can hear is the ocean, the birds, and the sound of your thumping heartbeat.

“Where are we, Buck? It’s pretty.”

He takes your hand, looking out towards the water.

“This is gonna be our house.”

Your head whips around in shock, confusion written all over your face.

“What?”

Your voice is barely above a whisper, but Bucky hears it, clear as day.

“I bought this land years ago, when I moved to town. I always knew I wanted to build a place of my own, but I could never get the plans off the ground. Something didn’t feel right. And then our Tethering happened…”

He squeezes your hand tightly, pulling you into his side.

“And everything fell into place. I was waiting for the right moment to show you, and it feels like you needed it today.”

You can’t speak. You’re completely lost for words, looking out at the perfect view. Turning to him, you throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of it and inhaling.

“Thank you,” you murmur into his skin. “It’s so perfect. You’re so perfect.”

“I’m so lucky,” he chuckles. “My God, you were worth the wait. I’d wait another ten lifetimes if I meant I got to love you again for one of them.”

You’re glad he’s holding onto you, or you’re convinced your legs would give out. You lean up to press a kiss to his lips, savouring the spearmint on his tongue.

“I love you,” you pray into his mouth. “I love you so much I can barely breathe.”

He kisses you back, harder, determined to show you exactly how he feels about you. Your fingers tangle into his hair, making him groan as you tug. His hands slide down to your ass, gripping harshly as he pulls you into his front. He wants every inch of you pressed together.

When you pull away, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You can have anything you want, you know.”

“Hmm?”

“With the house. I know we talked about it that night, at dinner in California. But if you think of anything else you’d like, all you gotta do is tell me.”

“One storey or two?”

“I was always thinking two.”

“Then I’d like a balcony, on the master bedroom. I love mine back at my apartment, especially in the summer.”

“Done,” he confirms, pecking your lips again.

“And a porch,” you whisper. “That we can sit on and watch the waves, when we’re old and grey.”

“I’ll be grey a lot sooner than you,” he jokes.

“You’re a lot more relaxed than me,” you laugh. “So I doubt that, actually.”

You rest your head on his warm chest, both of you swaying to the song of the ocean.

“We’ve got plenty of time, Buck.”

“All the time in the world, honey girl.”

The two of you stay wrapped in each other for a little while longer, enjoying the company of the one person you were destined for.

You can’t remember why you were ever so against soulmates. Loving Bucky is the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The two of you spend the rest of the afternoon curled up on the balcony, letting the sun warm you from the outside in.

“Pineapple will always remind me of those margaritas,” Bucky smiles, throwing a piece into his mouth. “Our first date.”

“And last, apparently,” you laugh. “We haven’t been on one since.”

“I mean, we sort of date everyday, right?”

“Yeah, I guess we do. After we’ve told my parents, we don’t have to worry anymore. We can go out whenever we want, whenever we want.”

“Exactly,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you tenderly. “Not long now.”

The sound of your phone ringing startles you both, your hand flying out to find it in the cushions of the loveseat.

“Hello?”

“Oh, thank God. I half thought you were dead.”

“Not dead, Lacie. Just busy.”

She laughs, and you realise suddenly how much you’ve missed that sound.

“You’re back in town, right?”

“Yeah, just for a few more days. Then I’m gonna go back to Cali and pack up my stuff for good.”

“Perfect! Me and you are doing dinner tomorrow night. I want you to meet Cameron.”

“Really? Finally! I’m so excited, Lace. Your place, or are we going out?”

“Come to mine. Cam is the best cook, seriously. I’ve gotta run, we’re picking out a couch today. A couch, babe! Can you believe it?”

“Happy couch shopping, you two,” you laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”

“Love you, bestie! Bye!”

You can’t help but smile when you hang up the phone.

“She’s gonna love having you back home again, isn’t she?”

“Oh, yeah. I can’t wait to see her more. I know she’s been so busy with her soulmate and me with work and with you, but I miss her like crazy. We text all the time, but it isn’t the same.”

“She knows about us, right?”

“Yeah,” you giggle. “She was the first person I told.”

“Thought so,” he laughs, pulling you back into his side. “Knew you wouldn’t be able to keep it from her for long.”

“She can practically read my mind. It was easier to avoid the truth over the phone, but the minute I saw her in person, I crumbled. She gives me this look, and I’m done for.”

Bucky chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I can’t wait to get to know her properly.”

“Oh, she’s gonna love you.”

“I hope so.”

“She will, trust me. She used to talk about how hot you were all the time. Pre-Cameron, of course.”

“I’m glad you’re finally getting to meet him.”

“Me too. I feel guilty, you know. It was the biggest moment of her life, and all of a sudden I’m up and leaving across the country, barely keeping in touch through scattered text messages. I was so wrapped up in you and in work, that I wasn’t there for her like I should have been.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand if you say this to her, honey baby. You have to remember that her Tethering was a lot less complicated than ours. They just got on with things, as easy as can be.”

“I guess you’re right,” you murmur into his chest. “I’ll tell her all of this when I see her tomorrow.”

He wraps both arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer. You relax instantly, the warmth of his skin and familiarity of his touch soothing you like melted honey.

Your phone rings again.

“I bet it’s Lacie moving the plans around,” you chuckle. “She always underestimates how long it takes her to get everything ready.”

You find your phone from under the cushion and answer it.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Mama?”

“Where are you?”

The sun disappears behind a cloud, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’m at home.”

“I need you to go and get Bucky, and come to the hospital.”

Your heart stops in your chest, and Bucky has to breathe for the both of you.

“Why?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

“I’ll explain when you get here, but it’s more serious than we thought.”

She sounds scared, which in turn terrifies you. She’s the bravest person you know, your Mom. If she’s afraid, you know it’s bad.

“Okay,” you choke out. “I’m leaving right now. I, uh, I’ll get Bucky, and - do you need anything? Does Dad? I can bring whatever… whatever you need, what do you need?”

“Nothing, baby girl. Just you guys, for now, okay?”

“Okay. Yeah, okay. I, uh, I- I- I’ll leave right now. Where is he?”

“Follow the signs for Cardiology when you get here. Room 4.”

“He’s in a room? In a bed? Mama, please. What’s happening?”

You’ve never heard your voice sound so weak. You’re kicking yourself internally - you have to be strong for her. You need to be.

“Baby, just get here as soon as you can, okay? Get Bucky to drive. I love you.”

“I love you too. So much.”

You try to hang up the phone, but your hands are shaking so much that you’re unable to press the red button. Bucky does it for you, intertwining your fingers with his.

He pulls you to your feet, smoothing your hair back from your face.

“It’s all going to be okay, honey. Put your shoes on and grab your purse. I’ll get my keys.”

He kisses your forehead gently, letting his lips linger for a second before pulling you inside and shutting the balcony door.

He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time, even as you drive to the hospital.

You feel like you’re drowning. Repeatedly slipping beneath the surface of the water, lungs heaving, desperate to stay afloat.

Bucky feels it, too. All he can do is hold your hand and hope for the best.

All he can do is hold your hand and hope for the best.

tag list part one

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

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buckysh0e · 7 months

Text

Don’t wake the kids

Dad!Bucky x Mom!Reader

Summary: it’s early on a Saturday Morning, yours and Bucky’s two kids are still sleeping away, but Bucky? He’s awake and wanting some attention from his beautiful wife.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ // Soft dom bucky // dirty talk // praise // nicknames (pretty girl, baby, sweetheart) // pussy eating// atp sea// Bucky is a warning himself

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was 7:00 AM on a Saturday morning, the kids were still asleep and so were you, but Bucky? He was wide awake and so was his friend. Bucky looked to left seeing his sleeping wife next to him, he leaned over gently placing soft kisses on your cheek and jaw.

“James…” you mumble feeling Bucky’s lips drag across your jaw “morning sweetheart” he whispered against your skin, you let out a soft sigh and turned over onto your back and opened your eyes and looking into your husbands beautiful blue orbs “morning” you said softly.

“The kids are still asleep” Bucky said and kissed your cheek “and…we have some time before they wake up” he said with a smirk on his face, you look at him “and what are you implying mr barnes” you tease “oh you already know what I’m implying” he said and moved himself above you.

Bucky began kissing your neck and jaw pampering you before moving down to your bare chest “god…maybe I should get you pregnant again” Bucky said with a small smirk as he gave your breasts a squeeze causing you to immediately bite down on your lip “James” you looked at him with a well knowing look “alright alright okay” he smiled and wrapped his lips around your harden nipple, he sucked snd pulled at it with his teeth playfully causing small moans to escape your lips.

Bucky eventually made his way down your stomach leaving light kisses down your abdomen, you ran your fingers through his hair as you watched him move down lower and soon between your legs, Bucky got himself comfortable between your thighs.

Your cheeks heated up as Bucky placed soft gentle kisses along your thighs, Bucky grabbed the hemming of your underwear and pulled them down revealing your already wet cunt, you blushed and chewed on your bottom lip as Bucky groaned at the sight “fuck….I never ever get tired of looking at this pretty pussy” he said and spat on your cunt rubbing his saliva on your sensitive clit.

Bucky rubbed it a little before going in and locking his lips around your Clit, your whole body shuddered and your hand went flying over your mouth to stop any moans escaping, Bucky held your thighs eating your pussy like it was his last meal, his eyes looked into yours holding eye contact as he flicked his tongue against your clit “feel good doll?” Buck said with a teasing tone “James..I swear” I mumbled biting back moans as Bucky started sucking on your clit again.

You thrusted your hips against Bucky’s face, grinding your soaked cunt into him as he ate you out, you feel the knot in your stomach start to form and Bucky could tell you were getting close.

“You wanna cum pretty girl?” He smirked licking a long stripe through your folds to your clit before pulling away causing you to groan “why the hell did you stop” you whined watching your husband shimmy off his boxers “I want you to cum on my cock” he said lifting you up into his lap “use me” he said and those words were the green light but you knew you had to hurry, you didn’t wanna risk your children coming in.

You position yourself on Bucky’s lap before lowering your body into him letting out a moan feeling at his cock filed you up “fuuuck” you moaned and Bucky smirked gripping your ass “come on baby ride me” he looked at you as you slowly started moving up and down slowly picking up speed.

You bounced yourself up and down moaning bucky’s name repeatedly, he slapped your ass a couple times making you moan “fuck…fuck I’m close” you mumble out digging your nails into bucks shoulders “yeah? cum for me pretty girl” he said and held your hips, he began thrusting up into causing louder moans to escape your mouth, the sound of skin slapping filed the room, the knot in your stomach was so close to breaking “go on pretty girl cum on my cock, fucking coat it in your cum” Bucky’s words made you lose it, you arched your back cumming hard around his cock squeezing around him making him cum with you, your body shook and you clung to your husband “fuck…” you whispered and Bucky chuckled and kissed your cheek “you did amazing my love” he mumbled against your cheek.

Bucky got you cleaned up before laying in bed beside you “we should do this every morning” you said moving to lay on his Chest cause him to laugh “I doubt we would leave this bed” Bucky said tracing his fingers along your arm “good” you whispered kissing his chest and leaning up pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.

The moment was soon interrupted by the sound of child footsteps “MOMMY!!!! DADDY WERE HUNGRY!!!” Their son, Archie yelled, “FOOD!” Their daughter, Emma yelled out too causing the couple to laugh “they get that from you” you said kissing his cheek “you can play cook this morning” you smirked cuddling into the covers “I’ll make pancakes” Bucky said climbing out of bed grabbing some clothes to change into “DADDY!” The two kids yelled again from behind the door “yes munchkins I’m coming” he laughed “I’ll call you when it’s ready” he said and you smiled “I love you” you said softly.

“I love you too” he replied.

#bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #james buchanan barnes

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woahjo · 21 days

Text

cw: fwb, unprotected sex, creampie, no aftercare (it prob happens but i did not write it), casual sex, very very light pain play (satoru pinches), semi-rough sex, light femdom (kinda)

fwb with satoru gets really messy really really fast and then you both have to pretend that it didn't happen... then ofc the next week you start sleeping together again because you can't keep your hands off of each other.

there's a lot of frustration. a lot of emotion that neither of you are all too eager to claim, and it charges you both up like static set to shock. it makes you... angry and vindictive, chasing something that you both refuse to give a name to (even if the name is obvious).

it's a thursday and the night has gone as either of you had expected it to. truthfully, you didn't come over to satoru's place to fuck him. he's your friend, even with all the sex you have, and you really just came over here just to hang out. of course, one thing led to another and the proximity, teasing words, his hand on the top of your thigh, fingers creeping further and further up... well, of course you ended up like this. it seems to be a natural state for the two of you.

straddled across his lap, you can feel the heavy press of his cock inside of you. satoru's head is angled back, exposing the underside of his jaw as he closes his eyes to admire the tight squeeze of you around him. his hands grip your hips tightly, slender fingers squeezing into the soft padding of flesh your figure provides. his breath comes quickly and through an alternating mix of gritted teeth and a slack jaw.

you've got the lead, rolling your hips forward and bracing your weight on the couch behind him. the pace is brutal and his cock bullies your insides with each frantic roll of your hips against his. you can feel the way he moves to meet you, desperate and wanting, his chest covered in a slick sheen of sweat. his shirt and your shorts are the only things the two of you managed to take off and the rest of your clothes stick to your bodies as they gather heat.

satoru's hand snakes it's way under your casual t-shirt, kneading the soft flesh of your breast and then delivering a painful pinch to the delicate skin. you shudder, enamored by the wide feel of his palm on your skin and he grins lazily at the easy access. you haven't even worn a bra, how telling.

the expression frustrates you. satoru tilts his head forward a little bit to look at you, delivering a sort of cock-sure grin that makes your cunt throb and your frustration flare. then, he drags his eyes down your body before focusing in on the place where the two of you meet, intensely focused on catching glimpses of the base of his soaked cock and your pretty, parted cunt.

you grit your teeth, leaning up so that you're looming over him and picking up with the aggression of your movement. there's a desperate sense of pressure in your lower abdomen and satoru tilts his head up to look at you as you reorient yourself to be on top of him. you can see the way his lips curl up, wetted by his tongue darting out to lick them. his expression is stiff and pleasure ridden, white eyebrows knitted together and a flush across his features as he looks back down between the two of you. one hand squeezes your breast and the other moves your hips along with you, painful pressure where each finger meets your body.

you take his face in your hand, your fingers sinking into the hollows of his cheek, forcing his expression into a half pout. satoru is forced to look at you and he tears his eyes away from where the two of you meet to rest on your face. they're blue and glassy, watering with whatever desperate, wild emotion this sort of thing brings on. you feel him grit his teeth under your grip and you can't help but grin, tilting your head to the side.

"tell me you want me," you demand, your voice breathy.

"i want you," he says. satoru doesn't even stop to think about it. normally, he might put up a fight, but tonight, you have the power and he admits his desire freely and with a desperate undertone.

"yeah?" you tease, picking up your pace. your breathing comes quickly, it comes as a tell. "how badly?"

"so badly," he grunts, his face still caught in your grip. "so much."

you grin and satoru sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth as your cunt clenches around him and you bore down on him. you feel him twitch inside of you and shudder, bringing your face close to his.

"tell me you love me, satoru," you demand, feeling the way his breath catches in his throat. you don't stop the movement of your hips, teetering on the edge of an orgasm as pleasure mounts in your lower stomach.

satoru grits his teeth and seems to pause at this. his breathing quickens, eyes screwing shut before you deliver a squeeze to his cheeks that tells him to open them.

"come on," you pant. "tell me you love me."

and satoru does.

"i love you," he says on an exhale, the words breeching his lips as if he'd been holding his breath. you clench down around him and satoru says it again, sharper this time and with a whiny undertone. "i love you."

you let go of his face, putting your hands on his shoulders as you creep closer and closer to the edge. satoru's fingers dig into your hips and you feel the way his grip tightens and twitches as he creeps closer. your nails dig little crescents into satoru's upper back, almost begging it to bleed.

with a groan, you push your chest forward and cum over him, your hips twitching as you try and fail to keep up the pace. it takes everything you have not to slam your knees closed in front of you. instead, you press yourself down and against him, raking your nails across his back and you briefly register the sound of satoru's choked moan before you feel him spill inside of you.

there's no pleasure greater than this. there is no better feeling than coming around him with heavy words in the air. satoru's fingers don't let up on your hips and his chest heaves with each breath. they keep you over him and you watch as he leans his head back on the couch and closes his eyes, satisfied with the feeling of plugging you up and spent with the admission (maybe a lie, maybe not) that you dragged out of him.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru #jjk #mdni #tw.fwb #he's a little subbbyyyy in this weeeeeee #anyway idk where this came from.love u #cal.writing #char.gojo

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cowboydisaster · 4 months

Note

Christmas countdown request:

Have you ever sat in a hot tub while it's snowing? It's a magical experience. Your top is chilly, your bottom half is so warm, and if you look directly up at the falling snow it looks like the stars are floating down around you.

Anyway, Arthur should take reader skinny dipping in a hot spring and it starts snowing and they get to enjoy that magical moment while cuddling naked in the hot spring 😁

* ˚ ✦ Nightfall * ˚ ✦

pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 1.9k a/n: OKAY-- i have experienced this and i LOVE it. I couldn't help myself from writing the smut, really. Smut in a hot spring is too good. I'm obsessed with this. warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, thigh riding, inexperienced reader, cowgirl

cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: TWO days 'till christmas!

christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist

The breeze is cold against your bare skin, the snow soft against your feet.

“Are you sure this won't hurt?” You ask again, eyes flickering over towards Arthur. He chuckles as he unbuttons the bottom of his shirt, slipping it off his shoulders and letting it fall to the rocky ground.

“Yes, I'm sure.” He says, amused.

“Why did we have to wait ‘till nightfall?” You ask, teeth chattering, hand running up your bare arm, over the goosebumps that are appearing.

“You’ll see. C’mon, darlin, before ya catch a cold.” Arthur whispers, hand on the small of your back as he leads you across the flat rocks, towards an unknown destination.

He’d wanted to surprise you, had planned this little trip weeks ago. Your horses eye the landscape curiously, not daring to leave the forest and venture out onto the strange, warm rocks. A nervous smile rests on your lips, a slight anxiety resting in your stomach. Arthur doesn’t miss the shudder in your breathing, nor the beating of your heart in your ears. Wishing to quell your hesitation, Arthur reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently in his own.

“You trust me?” He whispers, green eyes searching yours, and you nod. Hand in hand, you both venture across the rock. Arthur smiles for the way you marvel at their heat. The snow melts away from them, and small bubbling puddles of water rest at your feet. You raise an eyebrow, never having seen anything like it.

“Where are we?” You ask, looking down, seeing more water, ponds and pools of it, hot and steaming. The warm pools are crystal blue, and seem to glow in the pitch black of night.

“Cotorra Springs.” Arthur smiles.

Your eyes go wide, taking in the beauty and the wonder of the hot springs. Arthur leads you towards a particularly large one, and you study it. The way the water steams, warmed by some forces in the earth, the way the moon reflects in the strangely clear waters, the halo of light that shines out from the circle in the earth.

Arthur watches your curiosity with loving eyes. He knows that you were very sheltered, and he’s trying to show you as much of the world’s beauty as he can. The wonders of nature are something that he often takes for granted, but not you. Every flower you come across, every landscape and every animal you meet is met with deep wonder and appreciation. Seeing the way you study, how your eyes light up at something new is… enchanting for him..

“Is it magical?” You whisper, your eyes filled with stars reflected from the water. You lean down, running your fingers through the spring, pulling away quickly at the warmth. You look to Arthur for reassurance, relaxing when you see him stepping down into the water.

“Reckon it might just be.” He hums, extending a hand out to you. You take his calloused hand, letting him help you. Your toe meets the water first, and you pull it back, hesitating.

“S’alright, sweetheart. I gotcha.” Arthur whispers, and trusting him wholly, you step in.

The warm water envelops you, chasing away the chill that had been sinking into your bones. Arthur sits on the naturally carved ledge in the spring. You hesitate, but he nods– signaling that you’re okay– and you follow.

“Incredible, ain’t it?” Arthur whispers, head tilted back, looking up at the stars. The snowfall combined with the bright stars enrapture your attention, and you stare at the sky, wondering if it’s the snow falling onto your tongue, or the stars themselves.

“It’s beautiful.” You murmur, brushing your hair back with wet hands, extending them to the sky, catching snowflakes that promptly melt against the warmth of your skin.

Arthur is sure that in all the things he’s seen, all the places he’s gone, he’s never seen anything as beautiful as you. Your wet hair falls in tangled waves down your back, your smile is brighter than the stars above as you try and catch the ones that sprinkle down to you. The wonder in your eyes. That wild streak in your heart. Arthur could draw you day and night in his journal, and never truly capture your glow, or the way your smile brightens a room, the way your laughter heals broken hearts.

Sometimes he wonders how you do it. How does someone with so much pain– so much trauma– stay so optimistic? So grateful for life and for people? In all that Arthur endured, all it ever made him was an angry fool. But you. You’re a phoenix.

Arthur’s hands grip onto your waist, pulling you into his lap, your legs sitting across his own as he holds you wedding-style in his arms.

“How’d I ever get so damn lucky?” Arthur whispers to you, green eyes laden with emotion.

Your smile picks up all the cracked pieces of his heart, the liquid gold pouring out from your soul glues it back together.

“Karma.” You answer quickly, “Because good things happen to good people, Arthur.”

Your legs are toasty warm in the water, but your chest and shoulders shiver lightly in the cold breeze. You cuddle closer to Arthur to make up warmth, laying against his chest.

“I ain’t a good m-”

“Shh.” You say into his ear, lips remaining there for a moment, pressing a slow kiss to his cheek.

“You are a good man.” You whisper, turning in Arthur’s arms to face him, straddling him, “and…” You press a soft-as-silk kiss to his neck, “I love you for it.”

His breaths grow a little quicker at the contact, and suddenly you become all too aware of the position you’re in.

“Too good to me.” Arthur whispers in between open mouthed kisses to your neck. His hands find your waist, fingers digging into your soft flesh, gripping you tightly.

You whimper, breath shuddering as he pulls your hips down, grinding your core against his leg.

“Arthur we’re–” You take a breath, “What if someone comes along?”

“No one will come along, darlin.” Arthur reassures, thumbs trailing up your torso, pressing circles against your firm, sensitive nipples.

Despite your sheltered childhood, you struggle none with this. When you were eager, Arthur had shown you– again and again– what you could do to make yourself feel good, to what you could do make him feel good.

“Keep talkin’ to me, sweetheart. Tell me how it feels.” Arthur’s voice is like velvet against your ear, his lips locking on to your lips, your jaw, your collarbone. One of his fingers continues massaging your swollen, pink nipple, and the other travels lower, teasing your thigh, stroking your hip.

“Please, Arthur.” You whisper, hips rocking gently, waiting for friction.

“Jus’ wanna touch you, sweetheart.” Arthur groans, pulling your hips down against his leg, helping you to rock them, to fuck yourself against his thigh, your warm bodies still half submerged in the spring. The temperature does something for you all on its own. Your breasts are exposed to the cold, only warmed by Arthur’s touch, but your lower half is heating all on its own, and combined with the hot water, it's almost overstimulating.

“Just like that-” You gasp, head tossing back, hair dipping back into the glowing water. Snowflakes flutter about, landing in your hair, on your face, and your breasts, scattered white specks that Arthur picks up with his trail of kisses. Your hips keep their steady pace, and Arthur continues teasing you, featherlight fingertips trailing down your legs, ghosting over the backs of your knees.

“Easy, sweetheart.” Arthur’s voice reaches your ears in a strained huff.

He wants to pull you down onto his throbbing cock, to roll his hips up into you, watch you rock yourself, fuck yourself on his length. He wants to watch those beautiful eyes roll back into your head over and over, wants to hear his name coming from those pretty, plump lips. He wants to mark you, kiss you, make you his. He’s not sure if at heart he's a good man. However, he is sure that you make him a very bad one. His cock is straining against his stomach, and every rock of your hips is rubbing against him, and jesus, he can’t take it much longer.

It’s selfish, purely selfish as he dips his hands below the water, pulling you up. Your face wrinkles in pleasure when he slides you down onto his cock, and the gesture nearly sends him to heaven. Your soft skin goes tense, muscles tightening, cunt gripping him, pulling groans from his cracked lips.

The glow of the water shines impossibly brighter, illuminating you. Your face is flushed, your breasts bouncing with every one of your rocks.

“Oh–” You moan, hands gripping onto his sturdy shoulders, “Arthur!”

“Tell me what’cha need, darlin.” Arthur grunts, squeezing your ass in his hands.

You reach for his wrist, grabbing it tightly, and shoving it down between your bodies. Arthur smirks against your skin as he nips at your earlobe, sending waves of pleasure through all the pressure points in your body. His thumb makes a steady pace on your clit, and when you toss your head back in pleasure, snowflakes spot your eyelashes.

“Feel good? Gonna cum for me?” Arthur groans, cock twitching inside you, pushing up into you. You press your chest to Arthur’s, the added stimulation of your nipples against him creating an influx of sensations.

“Good… Good, there you go.” Arthur praises, feeling the stutter of your hips, noticing the whine of your voice.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” Arthur kisses your neck, and your stomach clenches down on him, “C’mon, baby. Cum for me.”

Your hips stutter, voice growing louder, strained as you rock against him. Arthur curses as your walls tighten around him, squeezing out every bit of self control that he’s clinging on to. Your orgasm works through you slowly, building and building, like a dam cracking before it bursts.

“There, there, just–” Arthur groans, “Jus’ like that, darlin’. Doin’ so good. I’m– nearly there wit’ ya–”

You shudder and gasp, fire erupting in your abdomen, spreading over your limbs. A few unrhythmic, upward thrusts and Arthur is there with you. His hips grind up slowly, pumping his cum into you, filling you full as he groans, hands tearing into your hips with their force. He thrusts again, slow, breathing deeply as you both come down.

“That–” You shiver, sweat clinging to you, cold from the temperature.

“I know.” Arthur finishes for you, pulling your body against his chest, keeping you mostly in the water for warmth. His arms wrap around you, fingertips trailing slowly up and down your spine as tingles spread through your limbs, little waves of aftershock hitting you now and again.

Arthur doesn’t pull out, just keeps you in his lap, holding you, kissing your head, praising you.

The falling snow lands in your hair, and as Arthur looks up at the vast expanse of stars, he's sure you’re one of them. An angel, come down as a star. Something divine, surely.

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola @calcarius445 (send an ask to be added/removed!)

#divider by cafekitsune #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan smut

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pandoras-box0 · 1 year

Text

|| : Title : 'golden touch'

|| : Characters : aged up! neteyam x metkayina! reader

|| : Contents Warnings : male!body worship; hand job, oral - male receiving; marking; switch! neteyam; fluff; kissing neteyam's gunshot scar; Metkayina warrior! neteyam; brief cum play; newly mated, honeymoon phase couple;

|| : Synopsis : as a newly mated pair, you and neteyam can't keep your hands off each other. what's better than body worshipping your man during fertility season?

Your lips trail down Neteyam's chiseled chest, leaving purple splotches in your wake. Neteyam's chest heaves, pulling air deeply into his lungs as your lips wander him.

You can feel his abdomen quiver under your hand, as it is sprawled out across his azure skin. The bioluminescent beauty marks lead you as you plant an open-mouth kiss anywhere you see a bright freckle.

You and Neteyam are a newly mated pair, and with the breath of fertility season in the air and your fresh union in your minds, the two of you cannot keep your hands to yourself. So when he comes back after a three-day hunting session, you can't help but jump his bones. Not that Neteyam minds any, he can't get enough of you either.

You giggle at the shake of Neteyam's abdomen as pleasure courses through him. You nibble along his pecs, leaving teasing bites across Neteyam's chest. His fangs are embedded into his lips at your wandering mouth that leaves open-mouthed kisses along his skin. Your warm hand rubbing along his cock.

"feels good, 'teyam?" You ask, greenish blue eyes peering down at your lover. Your thick, paddle-like tail sways with anticipation, as your ears pivot to drink up the male's noises. He lets out a shaky breath, and his eyes flutter as the sounds of your wet hand sliding along his dick bless his ears.

Neteyam hand cups your face, where he runs the pad of his thumb over your cheek. Your chin rests on his chest as your keen into his touch, your wrist still working along his lengthy, cock. Using the remnants of his last orgasm to work his cock in your wet grasp.

Your lips are a rosy color, indents of your teeth pressed into your bottom lip. All Neteyam can think about, is how good you look as you pleasure him. Curly hair in a disheveled, sexy mess. "Yes baby, it feels good." The words slip from him with a light, throaty groan, as you massage his cock in your palm.

His eyes convey just how you make him feel. The dilation of his pupil leaves nothing but the thinnest ring of amber, giving you a dangerously lustful (yet loving) gaze. His hand is heavy on the back of your head as he coaxes you to return your mouth to his chest.

Your ears lightly press into your skull as you look along Neteyam's skin. You kiss along every freckle he has, every scar. Every mark that litters his body, you kiss along. Neteyam watches through droopy eyes, as you press kisses along his flesh. Your tail swishes through the air softly, mind filled with your lover and how content you are, the comforting scent you put out permeates through the air and into Neteyam's lungs.

Neteyam's mouth is slightly open to inhale it deeper, waiting til his lungs ache to breathe you out. You kiss along his gunshot scar, a symbol of his hardship. Shudder crawls its way up the both of your spines as your lips make contact.

Your eyes skim across his dark blue skin, where they settle on his eyes. They hold a vulnerable, soft gaze. You never touched that scar outside from times like this, where you'd be leaving kisses along his skin, worshipping the man in his whole. Every part of him, including that part.

Sprawled out on top of Neteyam's body, pooling between his legs, you let go of his throbbing cock to hold yourself up. With the hand that you have on his chest, you reach up to hold his jaw.

You cradle his face in your hand, giving him a comforting touch. Your thumb tugs his bottom lip as you trace your fingers for the bioluminescent freckles on his chin. Your eyes ask if he's okay, eyes flickering to wear your lips are pressed.

You map him like the fishermen map the stars, holding him as gently as your body will allow. He can't help but kiss the heel of your hand, nodding as your eyes give him concern, love, and comfort. He's more than fine, he's never felt better.

You worm your way down, giving a few sporadic and soft kisses to his sternum before drawing further down. Your hand makes quick work of itself, reaching between your bodies to pick up Neteyam's neglected and drooling cock.

Neteyam lets out breathy groans as you pull away to spit on his cock and your fist. You rub along the tip of Neteyam's dick, coating him in the spit that you'd given him. Your tongue swirls along the stripes of Neteyam's abdomen, sucking hickeys onto his skin when you make contact again.

You pay extra attention to the brighter freckles of Neteyam's. The ones that sit around his belly button, just above his pelvis. Your tongue pressed into the brightest one, biting where you are kissing him.

Neteyam is grunting at the feeling of your wet, warm muscle licking along his skin. His grip on the back of your head tightens as you kiss so close to where he needs you. "Lo..lower, paskalin." He practically chokes on the words, as your hands speed up. Neteyam can't help but grow needy for you, grinding up into your hand.

His eyes flutter shut, long lashes kiss his cheeks as you leave open-mouth kisses along his dick. "Oh, Eywa," his hips gyrate, itching for more as you kiss along his blue shaft. You leave small hickies along his cock.

Your pink tongue peaks from behind your lips, as you tilt Neteyam's cock to lick across the bottom of it. Tongue pressed into a vein that dances along his member, before popping one of his squishy and swollen balls in your mouth. You give it a gentle suck, watching as Neteyam writhes underneath you. His large hand gripping your braided-out curls, a sigh leaving his lips. "Fuck, yawne,"

The noises Neteyam makes when you finally take his entire length down your throat are downright sinful. The feeling of your mouth on him, the feeling of your tongue massaging his cock, it's all so much for him. Neteyam's eyes squeeze out of pleasure. You run a comforting hand over his thighs, and when they open, they met your loving gaze. Neteyam can't get enough of you and your golden touch.

2023 © Pandoras-Box0 — all rights reserved. do not repost or recommend my works on any other site. plagiarism will not be tolerated! inspiration is appreciated if credited, reblogs and comments are also appreciated. Minors dni with my content.

|| : Author's notes : I couldn't help myself lmao, I'm not a fluff writer so I don't know if this is any good. @cinetrix thank you for creating the aged up neteyam art 🙏💙 they're masterpieces.

#avatar smut #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam smut #sage speaks #metkayina reader #jake sully smut #neteyam x reader #jake sully x reader smut #🌿 – strong heart

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deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months

Text

— DREAM BOY

SUMMARY : bathrooms can be interesting sometimes.

PAIRING : stanfordera!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : john winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), stanford era dean, fingering, oral sex (m. receiving), glory hole, overstimulation, unprotected p in v (almost)

WORD COUNT : 2.9k

A/N : waterparks song title. here it is, @suckitands33, a glory hole Dean fic. yo, these physics classes are sucking the creativity out of me, lmao X

“Holy shit, babe,” Dean laughed, his shoulder and cheek holding his phone to his ear.

“What?” You laughed despite not knowing what amused him.

Dean held the door of the bathroom stall open and continued to snicker, “come upstairs.”

“No,” you whined, “I wanna go already.” Dean could hear you grunt and pull something heavy across the floor. He continued to grin anyway, his cheeks flushed and hot.

“Please?” He pouted even though you couldn’t see him. He let the door go to continue looking around, trying to hold back his laughter. Your small sigh made him bite his lip excitedly.

“Fine,” you groaned, something heaving dropping to the floor soon after. He held his phone to his ear as he kept looking around thoroughly, his quick eyes taking in the entirety of the brightly lit bathroom.

Pink and blue lights lined the mirrors, glitter was scattered over the floor, graffiti and stickers covered the walls. There were even lewd paintings hung up on the wall where the mirrors and the entrance was. They were small, but they were clean and unsoiled for the most part in comparison to the rest of the bathroom.

The door squeaked open and then turned to look over his shoulder. You stood at the entrance holding the door open with your foot. You looked sour, but he planned on changing that.

“What?” You frowned as you slipped inside and let the door slam shut behind you. Dean flipped his phone shut and shoved it into his jacket with a flirty smirk. You smiled at him instantly, your eyes shining brighter than the lights in the bathroom. “What?” you asked again, but your voice was just as flirty as he felt. You met him half way and let him wrap his arms around your waist.

“You look pretty,” he murmured, brushing the warm skin above the waistband of your jeans. You narrowed your eyes, suspiciously pulling away from him. He held you tighter, pulling you back in, and slid his hands up higher to play with the seam of your bra.

“I’m wearing your shirt—which doesn't even fit me and it has a cum stain, I’m pretty sure—a stupidly old flannel, which you wiped your fingers on after you ate your burger… and some boring-ass jeans,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, and these jeans make your ass look fantastic,” he snorted and pulled his hands out from under your shirt to slap your ass with both of his hands. You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck with a shake of your head.

“You didn’t make me come up here just to say that, did you?” You lifted a brow at him and carded your fingers through the short hair behind his head. He shuddered when your nails gently scratched his scalp and he leaned forward to kiss you. He felt your little smile against his mouth and his stomach fluttered at the softness of your lips against his. The way you cupped his face with your small hands and pulled him closer, the feeling of your tongue easily slipping past his chapped lips…

Suddenly, he forgot why he asked you to come up.

He had you pressed against the bathroom stall nearest to the door and his hands travelled beneath your clothes to feel your warm skin. He dragged his lips desperately down your neck, sucking and licking at your smooth skin. Your little moans made his cock harder and your hands began to play with his belt.

He was short of breath and painfully aroused, but his fingers worked quickly at the button of your jeans to zip them down. He turned you around and you laughed breathlessly as he struggled to get your jeans down your thighs.

“Hey, there’s a hole,” your voice broke the trance he was in while he was on his knees behind you. He pouted and bit your ass over your underwear in retaliation, which made you moan.

“Yeah, I’m trying to get my dick into it, sweetheart-”

“I meant in the stall,” you tittered, parting your legs. Dean looked between them, at the hole you were referring to, the hole he had called you up for.

“Oh, right,” he grinned, getting up from the floor to grasp your hips. Slowly his hand sneaked to the front of your pussy, his fingers teased your clit over the damp cloth and you whined softly. “Wanna use it?” He smirked, sneaking his fingers into the stretchy waistband to dip his fingers into your dripping entrance.

“But I’m so horny,” you complained, wrapping your fingers around his larger hand to control the way he played with your cunt.

“Please, suck my dick,” he pouted, dropping his chin on your shoulder while he grazed your clit with two wet fingers. He ignored the tickle of your hair against his nose and pressed his face closer to your ear.

“Isn’t it better when you don’t know who’s sucking your dick?” Your voice hitched and his cock throbbed, but he continued to tease you, hoping he’d get you to change your mind.

You writhed and moaned softly, with each precise movement of his fingers. You pussy clamped down around his fingers when he buried them inside you, scissoring and thrusting into your gushing cunt until he made you cum with three thick fingers shoved deep inside you.

“Fine,” you panted for breath, squeezing his hand between your thighs when he continued flicking your sensitive clit with his fingers coated in your cum. “‘S’long as I’m in the stall, pretty boy,” you chuckled, starting to lift your jeans up your legs when he slipped his hand out of your underwear.

“Awesome,” Dean exhaled, instantly placing his lips on yours when you turned around to face him again. You managed to unbuckle his belt while his clean hand gripped your chin, his tongue messily moving into your mouth.

Once you opened up his jeans, he shoved his soiled fingers into his boxers and wrapped them around his cock. His belt buckle clinked with each stroke and your stomach tightened, a new wave of arousal ruining your underwear. The sound of skin on skin, and fabric rustling beneath thrilled you farther.

“Hurry up,” you mumbled against his mouth, hesitantly slipping away from him to get into the stall. He kissed you quickly before you could get away farther and smiled cutely at the blush-y, smiley expression on your face.

The way your lovely hair fell over your eyes made him breathless and he was almost disappointed when you, your painted lips, curled lashes, and big soft eyes disappeared from his line of sight.

He saw your knees and the shadow of them beneath the stall and your fingers playfully curling in a come hither motion that made his smile bigger. Excitement thrummed through his body before he fully got his cock through the hole in the stall.

He felt your warm breath against the throbbing tip, he could feel how much of his precum was dripping out of the slit. The bathroom became a thousand times hotter and he pressed his forehead to the stall, his breath hitching when he felt your lips kiss the tip gently.

Your tongue gently poked at the head to press into the slit, his knees buckled, and then you pulled away. He heard you spit and tensed in anticipation before he felt the warmth of your saliva on his cock. He wanted to see you, to wrap his hand around his dick, and push it into your reddish-pinkish mouth.

You always looked pretty with your lips around his cock, with your cheeks flushed, your cute eyes all wide and watery when he pushed himself down your throat, and your lashes sticking together from your tears. He was really starting to regret not being able to see you.

Dean hissed out a curse when you wrapped your fingers around his erection, wiping your spit along to make each stroke smooth and quick. He didn’t think your spit was necessary, he could feel his cock leak and wet itself with precum, but maybe the thought of your spit getting smeared all over his sensitive skin was turning him on that much.

You gripped him firmly, your softer fingers moving up and down his shaft made his hips jerk forward. The stall shook slightly, but you kept taking your time and he was getting impatient, but the rub of the pad of your finger against his slit made his breath come out unevenly. The layers of clothes made him almost too uncomfortable. And he wanted to break through the thin wall keeping you from him when you teasingly, repeatedly rubbed beneath the crown of his head until he was raw and sensitive.

He whined and you laughed, and he laughed after you did because you sounded adorable on the other side. You switched and started to stroke the entirety of his cock, from the base to the tip. He wished he could see your pretty hands holding him, even if your nail polish was chipped and your nails were uneven from constant breakage.

Only you had the pleasure of seeing that image. It was an embarrassing switch when his hot, silky cock started to feel sticky against your smooth palm. Your warm breath and the soft kisses to his cock made him produce more precum. Or maybe his penis readily leaked for you, that was a more likely culprit.

Dean breathed heavily with each slippery tug of his pulsing cock, the tightening of your fingers around him. Particularly against the thick vein along the underside. He gasped when you wrapped your hot mouth around the tip, your lips locking beneath the crown. His chest heaved and he couldn’t find anything to hold onto as the rest of his throbbing cock slid through your small fist.

You pull away, your lips teasingly closing around the tip, but not on the leaking slit. He pressed his burning cheek to the cool stall as frustration built, and your thumb gathered more of the clear fluid that dribbled from the wet head of Dean’s dick. He can’t see you when your grip turns loose but his eyes fall shut and his mouth splits open when you begin smoothing your slick palm over the tip at a faster pace.

When your mouth returns, Dean doesn’t think he’d last much longer. The suction of your mouth on his cock causes his stomach to tighten, and his balls draw in, and he’s squirming helplessly against the wall he’s pressed himself into. His hips buck his cock into the hole and into your mouth, and your tongue and fingers work together to touch every inch of him.

You knowingly flick your tongue along the glans and Dean holds his breath which makes his lungs burn for breath and his chest hitches with a sudden breath. You lap up the new wave of precum leaking from the opening and continue to suck his cock until Dean’s brain turns to mush inside his skull. Dean’s teeth pressed firmly into his lip and his brows furrowed in concentration, his mind hyper-focused on your wet mouth, your swift tongue, and soft fingers.

Dean's thighs are tense and his hips continue to move, somewhat halted by the wall as breaths get punched out of him. You drive him crazy and you overstimulate his glans with the hyper-fixated stoke of your tongue and he whimpered out a fuck. He could feel your laugh vibrate through him and you show him mercy by tonguing the pulsing vein beneath his cock instead, your tight fist twisting upwards after your mouth.

Dean pressed his other cheek to the wall to stare at the bathroom mirror. It felt cool against his hot, red skin and he pictured fucking you right there. You started up faster and rougher, taking Dean’s cock down into your throat. Simultaneously a wave of curses and praises started to explode from Dean’s mouth. He didn’t realise he was talking until he gasped your name and called you a good girl, and boy did it drive you crazy.

His abs became tense and he found himself holding his breath as he concentrated too hard on the pleasure of your deliciously wet mouth over his hard, throbbing cock. And gasps escaped his lips, similar to the punched out breaths that would involuntarily escape his throat when he was thrown into a wall by some monster.

When he finally comes, Dean’s whole body convulses.

He’s driven by the obscene sound of his cock pushing fast into your throat, and the constriction around his cock after each swallow. He inhales and his cock turns harder than it was for a fraction of a second, and then he comes. You suck desperately for everything he’s got and your fingers squeeze him so his brain nearly topples out of his ears. He whimpers again as his muscles become taut, and his eyes squeeze shut, while his come spurts out onto your tongue and into your throat.

He can feel you swallowing his warm cum and your fingers come loose, they move slower and your mouth follows just as leisurely. Dean breaths shakily and your name slips past his lips while you stroke and mouth his cock through his orgasm, until his cum spills out slower and in smaller quantities.

And it’s over. The warmth of your mouth and your fingers disappears and Dean turns to lean against the wall with his arm thrown over his eyes. He pants for breath as he comes down from his mind numbing orgasm, and he grins.

His eyes snap open when he feels your lips above the thick path of short hair on his pelvic bone. Dean’s cock was still throbbing, but much gentler than before.

“Your dick looks sorta perfect and beautiful,” you grin up at him, carefully pressing kisses along his softening length. Dean inhales and watches you kiss his twitching cock. He wanted to laugh, but you looked way too sexy and you snatched the words from his mouth when you gazed up at him through your lashes. His eyes flickered down to his cock; he’s thick and slightly curved, but he’s instantly focused on you again.

You look as beautiful as he imagined, as he’d remembered, with your cheeks a deeper colour and your eyes stained with tears. Dean takes your face in his large hand and swipes his thumb carefully over your soft, swollen lips. You get up from the floor quickly and your knees are covered with glitter which makes him smile. But before he could properly thank you for sucking him off through a hole in the wall, you pressed your wet lips against his.

Dean worked quickly at your jeans again and pulled them down your legs along with your underwear. He could feel the hitch in your breath when he sucked your tongue into his mouth and shoved the flannel off your shoulders to throw it over the stall. Your hands clung to his thick flannel and you moaned softly into his mouth, the cool air hitting your weeping folds.

His sensitive cock brushed against the oversized shirt you were wearing, cotton igniting the hardness of his dick. He didn’t think he could handle it, but the thought of sinking into your wet heat made his heart stutter in his chest. He unhooked your bra under the shirt and you swiftly pulled it out from underneath to join your flannel.

Dean gripped his pulsing cock at the base and when he pushed it through your dewy folds he knew he was done for. He slowly slid his hand up your body and the black shirt pooled around his wrist as he moved higher and higher. He exposed every inch of your warm, velvety skin until he got to your breasts.

You clung to his jacket with both hands while he pinched and rolled your nipple between his fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut and Dean carefully pushed his cock into your vagina, moaning softly as it squeezed around him.

The door of the bathroom was pushed open and two men slipped inside. One wore colourful makeup with a smirk on his glittery green lips when he saw Dean holding you close to him. The other looked away awkwardly, a nervous laugh slipping past his lips, but what made Dean clam up was his father holding the door open.

“Shit, my dad,” he muttered into your hair. Your head snapped in the direction of the entrance where John’s icy glare pierced through Dean. Your eyes widened but you couldn’t help the giggle from bursting out of you as Dean’s cock slipped out of your pussy.

John let the door fall shut loudly and Dean stumbled as he lifted his pants up and shoved his cock back inside his boxers.

“Dean, slow down,” you laughed, lifting your jeans up with a bit of a struggle. “Your dad already knows we fuck, who cares?” You tried to soothe him and took your clothes from where it was thrown over the wall of the stall.

He washed his hands and chewed on his lips, staring at you through the mirror. “You know how he gets. I have to focus on the job…” he murmured dismissively. You softened a little and then smiled, shoving him playfully to the side to wash your own hands.

“I’d rather you pound me into a bed anyway, or the backseat of the Impala,” you teased, flicking water in his face. He closed his eyes as he grinned, but when he opened them, you were taking paper towels to dry your hands near the entrance. You handed him a few and Dean relaxed slightly, taking them from you with a kiss planted firmly on your forehead.

“I can’t wait,” he whispered.

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#dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean x female!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader

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crimsonbubble · 1 year

Text

cw. best friends brother au, nsfw, afab!reader, use of the nickname kid, oral (f receiving), nipple play, pull out method *not proofread, just pure horny

[I'm a whore for a bfb fic 🤲🤲 and finding out keegan has the black hair and blue eyes combo got me fucked up ong 🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️]

reblog and comments are appreciated <33

MINORS DNI!!

you've only met him a few times. merely exchanging a soft hello and moving on with your day. but there's something so enticing about your best friends brother simply leaning against the doorway of his sisters room, taking the time to cross his arms and rest his head against the frame.

your friend was downstairs somewhere, probably in the kitchen when keegan saw you laying on his sister's bed. he's not one to care who his sister is friends with, but there is something about you that makes his heart race. whether it's the way you look at him with big doe eyes or the way your shirt clings to your boobs so perfectly, the way your jeans stretch around your thighs, or the way he imagines the cute noises you'd make if his head were between your thighs.

he's infatuated with you, there's a deep need to have you, to love you to the moon and stars, to show you a world full of love and lust. you both want the other, but that goes against your friendship with his sister. you're interrupted from your thoughts as keegan is now standing in front of you, guiding your head up to look at him with a gentle hand. "if you don't want this, push me away."

you look into each other's eyes for a few more seconds before you tug him down to your level. he lets out a soft breath, holding your face as you nip at his lip. with his hands supporting you under your ass, he moves you over to his room. he kicks the door closed, almost missing the lock. once he parts from your lips, he trails kisses down your jaw and neck.

he presses your back to the bed, hovering over you as his hands caress all over you. "fuck, you drive me crazy, kid." his hands gripped your hips, pushing you up further on his bed. his lips find their way back to you as he tugs your shirt over your head. his hands tug your bra cups down, letting your tits spill out. he kisses down your chest, fondling and squeezing your mounds.

"keegan-" he moans at how his name spills from your lips, taking your nipple into his mouth. "say my name again, sweetheart. please." he gently tugs at the puffy bud, circling it with his tongue before moving to do the same to the other. his name tumbles from your lips with a teasing smile, lifting your hips to wiggle out of your jeans. keegan slides then off you, falling to his knees to leave kisses on your thighs.

"you're mine after this, yknow that? all mine, sugar." he hums softly against your skin, spreading your thighs further to slip your panties down your legs. "hmm all yours, keegan." he swears he could marry you on the spot, eyeing the way your cunt glistens in the low lighting of his room. his hands are holding your legs up and open, giving him perfect access to lick and suck all he wants.

your hand tangles in his hair, the other coming up to stifle the moans and shaky breaths that threaten to give away your activities to your friend. his eyes bore into you, watching your face contort with pleasure. the slick wet noises are embarrassing but they add more heat to your shuddering body. start shoot across your vision as keegan sucks your clit into his mouth, carefully pushing his fingers into your sopping hole.

your back arches off the bed, pushing his face closer to your mound. your thighs tense around keegans head, keeping him in position as he worked you through your orgasm. your bones feel like jelly, buzzing with pleasure as keegan kisses up your stomach. he whispers praises against your sweaty skin, caressing your thighs and hips. "you can take a bit more for me, yea sugar?"

you can only nod, words eluding your head as keegan tugs his pants down. his tip is rosy and leaking. he works his cock through your folds, grinding his tip against your pulsing clit. there's a delectable feeling of pleasure and pain in your sensitivity, but the slow push of keegan easing in, inch by inch cloud your brain. you hold on to his biceps, digging the blunt edge of your nails into his skin. he winces at the sting, hiking your legs up to wrap around his waist.

"fuck, you're sucking me, baby. taking all of me so well, sugar." he groans deeply, hitting all sorts of spots within you that have you shaking and writhing under him. you're clinging onto him for dear life, kissing and nipping along his neck. you're trying to keep yourself together while keegan tries to take you apart. "just a little more, yea?"

you hum contentedly, the sloppy sounds of skin on skin barely hears over keegans deep groans and shaky breaths in your ear. his hand finds its way between your bodies, pressing on your clit to draw you closer to your orgasm. with the added stimulation to your clit, it wrings out an intense shudder from you as you orgasm.your walls tighten and pulse around his cock, his pace faltering.

with each shaky thrust, he nearly whimpers in your ear as he pulls out, wrapping a hand around himself. he strokes himself quickly, body shivering as he hid face in your neck. his cum splatters your stomach, hot and sticky. "you better take me out on an amazing date after this." keegan laughs breathlessly, kissing up your neck and jaw.

"I'll make sure to do just that."

#bubbly writes <3 #keegan russ smut #keegan smut #keegan russ #keegan x reader #keegan russ x reader #cod mw22 #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod smut #cod x reader smut #cod keegan #keegan cod

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diejager · 2 months

Note

First of all HEYYY I love ur work smmmm I read almost every. single. day. So I have anemia (iron deficiency) and I'm always super cold and pale. Like my body barely produces any heat. Sometimes I don't even realise how cold I actually am like I just look in the mirror and realise my lips are blue and I look like a zombie. So I was wondering if u could do like a Ghost x cold reader like with the blue lips and nails and everything ykkkk?? And to be sum like they end up having to stay in a safe house together cause they're snowed in and the radios don't work or wtvvvvv and the heats brokennnn OMGGG and there's only one bed😭😭😭😭🤌🤌 I would love that sm tbh and again LUV UR WORK

Cw: fluff, humour?, anemia, snowed in, mention of hypothermia, cold, one bed trope, tell me if I missed any.

You hated the cold as much as you hated snow despite how lovely you remembered it was, to feel the soft and cool flakes fall on your face and staring off into the landscape. You couldn’t help feeling some sort of aversion towards the cold when your condition made you nearly vacant of any heat, extremities turning blue or purple if you didn’t regulate your own tempature. But the thing you hated the most, was being stuck and snowed in a safe house without any communication from Laswell and a broken heater.

At the very least, you had company, sent off to Siberia with Ghost by your side, a man that burned higher than anyone you’d ever met. Perhaps he was the best option out of everyone, someone you got along with and enjoyed his jokes. That left you shivering under many layers of warm blankets, a bundle on the single bed that the safe house had. Oddly enough, it had enough food to feed a team of ten powerful and hungry men for an extended amount of time, space for many to roam around, but it had one single bed in the whole facility.

Not that it minded you, you were as close to him as you were with the other men, a gentle friendship that often led to idiotic decisions and humourless jokes (more so on his side than yours). You watched him move around the room, securing the windows before he did the same to the rest of the house, checking the locks and insuring that both of you would be safe for the night; and when he was sure everything was secure enough, he climbed into bed, slipping under your pile of blankets. Ghost held you against his chest, an arm under his head and the other around your waist, keeping you close to him to share his heat with you, to relieve you of your shaking and shuddering, and breath coming out in frozen vapour.

“Tell me a joke, Ghost,” you quipped, wanting to take your mind off the numbing cold and your low iron count.

“What does a doctor ask a snowman?” He started after a few seconds of thinking, a lightness in his tone.

“What?” You raised your brows, burying your face into your blanket burrito and squirming until he got tired of it and tightened his hold on you.

“And you say you’ve been erect for 4 hours?” He ended with a low chuckle, laughing at his own joke. He was shamelessly proud of it, apparently.

You blinked owlishly, lips pursed as you mumbled lowly, huffing through your nose with a quick sigh, worming around to stare at Ghost. Even with the mask on, you could see the softened expression through his eyes, his darkened eyes gleaming with mirth and innocent joy.

“That was bad,” you pouted, narrowing your eyes a him.

“Oh? But you laughed,” he grumbled.

“Because it was bad.”

“Yeah, now shut up and sleep.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley

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rosyjn · 8 months

Note

Can I request Jake fucking the kids baby siter?

(Neytiri is like death because in this house we hate cheating)

alr alr 🙏

warnings: tsaheylu, creampie, legal age gap

Smut warning ⛔️!! MDNI

“C’mere,” Jake coos. Eclipse has passed already, you put the kids to sleep hours ago. You peek into their tent, watching all 4 of them sleep. A snore leaves Lo’ak’s mouth, but none of them budge. The sky is dark, the bioluminescence and moons of Pandora illuminate it dimly. The blue and purple lights cast nightly shadows across the village. Jake leans against a tree, watching you check on his children.

“Coming-“ You nod, scurrying over to him. The ground momentarily lights up with your footsteps.

“Y’know how much ya do for me?” he lowly chuckles, rubbing his head. “I dunno what I’d do without ya,” his leg moves a little, and the muscles in his thighs flex for a second.

“Oh, it’s- really no problem, sir,” you assure him, lowering your head in respect. The beads in your hair make little clinking noises as some strands swoop in front of your face.

“Walk with me,” he makes a gesture with his hand and turns towards the forest, his head still facing you. You quickly hasten to him, getting next to him as your steps align. He’s so much bigger, taller, and stronger than you. The jungle of Pandora is your favorite. At night, it’s even more beautiful. In fact, you don’t know how this little coincidence happened- being alone with the mighty Olo’eyktan in the most beautiful spot. “You’ve got no clue how much I owe ya,” he croons, looking at the ground as you two wander deeper into the forest, walking on a hunting path.

“I promise, it’s nothing-“ you laugh, momentarily stopping as Jake spots a fallen log in the distance. It’s wrapped in glowing, purple vines that connect to the rest of the vegetation. He grabs your hand and you jump for a second, and he leads you off the path. His grip on you is tight- almost hurting you.

“What are you doing?” you ask, eyes dilating and ears perking up. He almost melts at the way you look at him, it’s adorable. He jumps over to the log, sitting on it. His legs are spread wide and he still holds your hand. You stand in front of him, watching him gaze up at you.

“Sit,” he says. You move to the side, turning your body to place it on the log. Jake suddenly grabs your hips and manhandles them. “No, not there. On me,” he demands. The sudden change of demeanor scares you into submission. You immediately plop your ass down onto his thick thigh, your knees knocking together in the space between his legs.

“Gotta tell you..“ his voice grows soft again, after he sees how nervous you are. “..I think ‘bout ya all the time. The way you…” he pauses, losing himself in thought.

“Mr. Sully, I-“ your cheeks change color with embarrassment. “This isn’t appropriate, sir” you tell him, standing up off of his lap.

“Sit back down,” he immediately grabs you again, roughly adjusting your body to sit back in his lap, forcing you to straddle him. You gasp, feeling his warm, muscled body against yours. Somehow, the friction through your loincloth activates something. Maybe it was the way he grabbed you, or the way he looked at you. Whatever it was, your heat enters the picture. You feel like there are butterflies in your stomach- in the most arousing way possible. “Call me Jake,” he says.

“Yes, Jake,” you reply.

“What I was saying is, you’re so fuckin’ good at what ya do. Takin care of my kids,” his hand slides up and down your body, making you shudder. “You look good doin’ it too,” he remarks. “So responsible, so pretty, so smart..” he continues, moving a strand of hair out of your face. He has never been this close to you, and he’s watching your face and body closely, to absorb every little detail that he never got the opportunity to see.

“Jake..” you whisper, pressing your face against his. He warmly accepts it, surprised that you’re reciprocating.

“C’mon, you’re killin’ me,” he groans, blood rushing to his cock faster and faster. “Please, tell me I can do it,” his hand grabs your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh.

“Do what?,” your back arches at the feeling of him.

“You know what,” he holds your body close to his with one hand, reaching for his queue with the other. You pull your face away for a second. You remain straddled around him as the tendrils of his kuru eagerly wiggle. You nod, reaching for your braid and holding it up to him. “Ready?” he asks.

“Yes,” you’re stuck in the lust. But now, you’re mating with Toruk Makto, the legendary war hero. He desperately connects your queue to his, and the sensation makes you whimper a little. An electric feeling shoots through your body, and you grab onto his shoulders desperately. Jake lowers his head, his breath hitching with pleasure. You immediately reach down for his loincloth, overcome with arousal.

“That’s it,” he growls, watching you untie his loincloth and push it away. His cock springs out at you: hard and hot. His lips press against yours, his tongue roughly invading your mouth. You kiss him back hungrily. You continue making out with him, your wet cunt soaking through your garment. Jake pushes the fabric of your loincloth to the side, discreetly moving you. He tries to position you over his dick. You follow the way he guides you, positioning your wet entrance over his tip.

“Need you to help me,” you whisper.

“I gotcha,” he reaches for your hips, slowly pushing you down onto his length. The whole time, he’s paying attention to the way you react: how you clench, how your face moves, the arch in your back, and the way your muscles clamp around his girth.

“Mmph!” you yelp as his dick penetrates you further and further. He hisses, watching how your tight cunt takes him in. You arch your back, letting him hit that spongy spot. It provokes a moan from the both of you, his tip hitting a new angle.

“Fuck,” he groans. “So tight, relax for me,”

“Oh..” you try to catch your breath, breathing in through your nose. You try to make your inhales timely and consistent. Trying your best to relax.

“You got no idea how long I’ve been wanted to do this to you,” he says in your ear, pushing your hips all the way down until his cock bottoms out inside of you. Your folds brush against his pubic area as he tightly holds you down, feeling your pussy to the fullest. You bury your head into the crook of his neck, planting lazy kisses on it while you’re there. “Can you do something?” he asks, holding and controlling your hips. He bounces you slowly up and down his length.

“Anything,” you let him kiss your head briefly.

“Tell me you want me, that ya need me,” he talks in your ear, sending shivers through your body. Your queues remain tightly connected.

“I want you, I need you,” you submit immediately, picking your head up and closing your eyes in pleasure.

“Fuckkk..” he bucks his hips up into you, making a regular paced thrust as you hold onto him desperately. Your heat swallows him desperately. Your walls feel every single vein and throb. You two fuck like animals- your bodies are moving together and the forest fills with the noises of skin slapping, squelching, moaning, and the little chitters of the Pandoran creatures of night. Your stomach coils in pleasure. Jake’s abs grow shiny with a sheen of sweat as he thrusts into you from under.

“Close?” you whimper, already feeling yourself clamp and squeeze on his girth.

“Yeah, gonna milk me dry?” he teases.

“Yes!” you arch your back even further, immersed in pleasure. Jake chuckles.

His thrusts grow erratic and rough as he chases his orgasm. You wrap your arms around him and bury your head into his neck again. Your body bounces with every rut and you moan and blabber incoherent gibberish as your body reaches the height of its pleasure. When your climax finally washes over you, electric pleasure shoots through your body, running through your kuru and forcing Jake to spill his load. His hot, thick seed shoots into you. You’re surprised by the amount. He spurts his cum over and over again, little drops dripping out of your full pussy as he groans and throws his head back.

“Haven’t came like this before,” he remarks, pulling out of you with a squelching noise and watching his semen trickle out. You stay holding on to him, still recovering from the sex. The tendrils of your queue remain tightly fastened to Jake’s.

“What are we gonna tell them?” you pant, staring off into space.

“Tell who, sweetheart?” Jake coos, rubbing your back.

“The kids,” you look up into his eyes and he pushes the baby hairs out of your face.

“I’ll tell em you’re their mama,” he coos, kissing your forehead.

470 notes · View notes

cheriepits · 11 days

Text

pocari sweat

part i.

contains: firsts (kissing, orgasms), dry humping, (and if u squint) Satoru being a love-sick fool

There’s a light grip on your waist when he guides you into the closet and slams the door shut on your friends’ faces with a mischievous grin. He doesn’t remember much between that and the next words that come out of your mouth.

“Dunno,” you say honestly, “it’s not like I’ve ever been kissed before…”

And Satoru knows he must be some kind of awful because his fucking dick throbs from your confession. He huffs out a breath, sounding a little like laughter, and cups your cheek. His calloused thumb grazes the skin just below your eye and you melt into it with a purr, a soft hum coming from your chest.

Even in the dark, he can see the way you look at him—your Satoru these past few years, the one who never fails to cheer you up even at your lowest, when your eyes are too puffed up to see him properly: glasses cast aside, sporting a too-soft smile for you in those moments.

The decision is easy.

You tilt your chin up in invitation and he inches forward, cradling your face. You wet your lips just before he presses his against yours, soft and coaxing. Something you never thought possible with someone like him. He teases your mouth open with small kitten licks ‘til you get the hint, his smile muffling the mewl you let out when you taste him—

The hard candy he’s been keeping in his pocket lately, the Pocari Sweat from the fridge. Satoru sucks on your tongue just as his hand wraps around the column of your throat, and you fall back, knees nearly falling inwards if not for the muscled thigh that makes its way in between your legs, pooling up your skirt. You don’t realize how warm your cunt is until he shifts, your wetness smearing along the delicate lace of your panties.

Satoru breaks free almost reluctantly, staring down at you with more dark, dark pupils than blues. “Too much?” he asks, breathless. You shake your head no. You pull him forward by his neck in what feels like a too-hot, bruising touch, and this time you shudder through the first deliberate roll of your hips against his thigh, mouth going slack from pleasure. You think muddily that your Satoru wouldn’t mind at all, right? He pulls away and catches your moans beneath a large palm as you grind, eyes fluttering shut, trying to kiss your clit closer to his skin.

You don’t notice the way he goes quiet while watching you. Instead, you focus on his lips finishing their slow trail up your jaw to hover over your ear. “Fuck, baby. I can hear you,” he says. The wet slide of your pussy grows desperate and you nod weakly when he asks if you’d like his touch. His grip leaves your throat.

He grabs your breast almost tenderly, rolling and tugging at your nipple. You groan appreciatively, though you tell him it’s not enough, and you tug at his wrist to guide his hand back.

“Please,” you say. “Gojo-san.” There’s a breathy, teasing tone to the formality that brings a smirk to his face. That’s when you feel the full heat of him. He’s hard and pulsing, accentuated by the tight stretch of denim against his length.

What you realize is this—Gojo Satoru is big. It’s the kind of big that makes you nervous. Makes your cunt ache before it even knows the stretch. Makes you shy in the face of all of this even though in your head for the past few months, you knew Satoru was the one you wanted. It’s the image of his cock that does you in, sliding into you just as leisurely as the tongue that keeps your mouth pliant, breath stuttering with the first orgasm you share with him. You come down with kisses pressed against your eyelids. A sigh when his hand falls away.

He’ll remember this, he thinks. The way you thrum under his Six Eyes.

You give him a small smile, palms unfurling from his nape to rest on his chest. A sweet kiss to his nose. “What ever happened to only seven minutes?” you ask.

Outside, a bead of red hovers ominously by the door. Suguru had rolled his eyes when he saw it, Shoko had scoffed, and the rest had turned around promptly, opting to abandon the game.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk fics #he's more pathetic in the later installments your honor

127 notes · View notes

joannasteez · 3 months

Text

sing, just for me

pairing | roman reigns x black reader warning | explicit content, including descriptions of sex. minors please do not interact. if you count flirting as fluff then sure i guess, theres some of that. supernatural element, so yes, its an AU!!! word count | 5.8k ... quiet nights of quiet stars, quiet chords from my guitar, floating on the silence that surrounds us... lyrics in red (corcovado by stan getz and astrud gilberto)

the strum of a spanish guitar and a sweeping staccato, these quaint bristling eruptions that pulse the room to life with a softened awakening. long aged spirits and slow to sip lips. abstract mosaic tilings glimmering with the paling yellow of lowlights. and through lush rouge lips comes a haunting melody. a song of lovelessness, to stain his spirit with a sorrowed tenderness. easing his bones till he lulls into a deep surrendering. and his fingers prick with warmth, alive with a daring sort of desire to touch and embrace. to console. the gentle silk dressing your skin parting and draping over in reverence of the high slit at your thigh, seemingly for him. to have, to hold, to care for.

but isn't that what every man thinks? that your crooning is for them alone. that when the passion of the melody becomes too great and your fingers begin to roam, nails sharp but feathery and caressing about the air and your own skin, that it is them you're thinking of. and when you shudder, when you hiss, breathy and overcome, isn't it them you imagine? touching and pleasing till that wordless teeming desire is fulfilled? because the allure beyond the burning in their eyes scorches your skin, forcing a craving in your bones. such lustful men, bound by the sin of their own dreams, and the ego that makes them believe all this grace and flare is made pure for them alone. but how can they not think those things? how can he not think these things? when you go on about so sweetly, eyes flitting to theirs, to his. and here he's caught. rapturous and silently pleading that you never look away.

roman knows you, but not in the common way that a man knows a woman. not by name or by touch, or the familiarity that comes with soft spoken passions and loud terrible expressions. he knows your voice and your sultry little songs. and in some small, hidden, back alley lounge just on the pensacola panhandle, he comes nightly to hear you sing. just as the burn of the sun falls behind the horizon, till the early morning hours, where the sky pulls out from darkness into a paled blue.

he sips at his dark liquors, tucked partly in the shadows of ill lit corners, bathing in the light of your songs.

but even in his silence, he shares the depths of his appreciation. flowers to match the rouge of your lips, the petals tender to the touch and blooming prettily. and every other night, they appear, at the foot of your dressing room door, waiting to be swept up in the caress of your fingers. and just before every show, as the audience waits with bated breath for you to take the stage, he sends a shot of liquor your way.

"courtesy of your admirer. for your nerves", the young bartender gives after pouring. the short glass filled with whiskey.

and though your nerves cry from the bitterness of it, you take the taste in stride. feeling the warmth of it in your belly, just as high heels click toward center stage.

stringy flicks of guitar, short clicks of percussion and the gentleness of your vocals smoothen the air once again. an intimate warmth he won't get used to. days, after weeks of a far away admiration and here he is still, drawn in quickly by the mystic of a woman he'd never known.

but you thought of him too. of the whiskey he drank as his eyes lingered, and whether not the bitterness was as terrible in the glass as it was on his tongue. or maybe it didn't linger so heavily there, undone by warmth and the teasing slips it took over his teeth as your palms caressed over your hips. lips parted, singing wispy, slicing faint into the heavy silence of the room. and how could you sing about such a lovelessness, when his hands— fingers locked in with one another, long and heavy— trouble your imaginations as you go on raspy and impassioned. thinking of where they could roam and what they could do.

surely his ego would take to a bursting if he knew.

but it didn't.

the bristling staccato of the drumming brush rustles the air but your voice fades with the spanish guitar to make way for the brassy float of a saxophone.

and there he is, sipping his whiskey, lulled into the atmosphere.

your heels clicking over the floor, a surety laid in your bones. slipping easy onto the leather seating beside him. one leg crossed over the other, the high slit in your dress draping to reveal soft tempting skin. and his eyes take to you there leisurely, not overly greedy, but enough to indulge an obvious show of your own play of desire.

his eyes flit to your lips, the rouge color similar to blood. he wondered often, since his first time here, what they might taste like. the pull of them.

"enjoy the show?"

your voice, this slow slip of honey.

"it was nice", roman says simply. as if that pitch and tone hadn't stained his every roaming thought and daydream.

"for all my hard work i figured i'd get higher marks. with how enthralled you are, nice is just a little to plain for my taste", something like a pout forming your lips, not too deep less you have him believe you actually care.

"you have a beautiful voice".

his own. deep. rich. binding to your bones.

your fingers play with his pour of whiskey. the liquor swirling as your wrist twist the glass. the strength of it hitting your nose. "as beautiful as your taste in liquor, so i guess you hated it".

he grins, clutching the glass to finish his drink. body closer. the brown of his eyes clearer as he comes just under the dim casting down of the yellow lowlight. an arm stretching behind to lay against the top of the leather seat. becoming comfortable. 'thats good', you think. comfortable is good.

"you should know by how often i'm here that i enjoy you very much".

and there is a quiet here, among the soft sing of music. his eyes looking into yours and yours into his. a moment to allow the settling of words, once before a mere silent admiration, now formed whole with letters and persistence to bring about a more complete desire. it is, maybe an invitation. an open palm, waiting for assent, the soft embrace of the other.

"enjoy me more". you stand. reaching out to pull him with you. "no more flowers and hiding in the shadows. dance with me".

his touch is colder than your imaginings but kind all the same. scent warm and autumn inspired despite the swelter of the summer season. a sweet spice that lulls you closer. a soft slow swaying together, intimate in it's own silence. and beneath stylish expensive feeling fabrics, you can sense the strength of him. lips lined soft and kissable, tempting. and his eyes from here, where you press into and sway with his embrace, are familiar. intense and consuming. a thorough take to your own eyes, as if to remember the little things. the shape of your lips, and the brown apples of your cheeks. the coy look up from under fanning lashes. an easy trailing over him, to note and remember in your own way.

"your songs", he starts.

you hum. "what about them?"

"they have a... somberness to them".

he leads your body gently behind a floor to ceiling oak pillar, done up with abstract relief carvings. a corner all to yourselves. you feel his hand maneuver, trailing to a less innocent placement. fingers long as they spread and sweep along the spine, pulling in till you flush softly to him.

you make no struggle to stop him, to pull away. you lean in even.

"i sing what i know".

the intensity of him breaks with a softening. "have you never been in love? has no one ever made you feel love in that way?"

"if they have, i don't remember".

pain corrals in him. spills over into his chest and his words. makes the utterance thereof small and aching. "thats a shame".

"is it?", thinking over what possible shame could come from something never had. "seems burdening to me. i have bills, i have enough things to cry over".

"things? you mean love?"

the way you speak so flimsily about it. is there really nothing of your memory? nothing of before?

"better to have never loved, than to love and have lost".

he smiles. "i don't think that's how the poem goes".

"ooohhhh", you tease. "he's well read".

he spins you. slips his embrace under your arm so that his hand meets the other at your lower back, at that less than innocent placement.

you take the time to breathe him in again, to smoothen your touch over the ways of his arms till they join lazy about his shoulders. nails roaming his nape in such a teasing fashion that it shivers his already cold skin. he's closer here, just enough to share his breaths. to see the freckles in his cheeks.

"he, is roman".

spine throbbing as his thumbs caress. his name slipping over your skin till its beneath and staining. and the spill of the saxophone is melodic. pleasant and soothing as he watches the rouge of your lips part. you tell him your name.

"we're on a first name basis now".

"we are".

the rumblings under the softness of his voice is divine. disrupts your skin till the hairs stand and nerves rush. memory washed with a familiarity you can't place.

his tongue peaks to slip over his lips. "can i ask you to do something for me?"

"what?"

his cheek presses to yours. and you feel the beginnings of a trembling. something ancient and belonging set into your bones.

"sing quietly. just for me".

mirth slips into your lips. the skin of your cheek rubbing against the hairs of his. lips breathy and teasing at his ear. "personal performances are expensive".

"i'm worth my weight in whatever way that pays you".

and even the angels, in all their majesty, can not delight nor arrest him so sweetly. with such a devastating gentleness of spirit. for the heaven in them, could not possibly do well to understand the haunting of this solemn summer song. a wispy falsetto, and the plucking of that spanish guitar once more. a soft sweeping melody into his ear. here, the sing of your voice is the tenderness of roses, having died once and remembering the pain of such a silent wilting, rising in spite from the earth again to bloom beautiful but with a familiar weariness. roman lulls, eerily surrendering, with the ease of a taken sailor by the song of the sea.

his touch is an endearing press into your body. no more of that idleness as they curl. dull and gripping into silk covered skin.

his eyes shine. taken. raptured.

your foreheads touch fondly. your nails still doing well to caress his nape. something like nostalgia corrals in your belly. in the rushing of your blood. his touch new but old.

his breath on your lips. close and sweeping against your face. his nose plays into the soft of yours. this finding of intimacy easy, as if it has existed before.

he hums. hearing the echoing of your singing still.

"so much like a siren".

"they're killers". your nails sharp with a slow sinking into his skin. enough the prick. to have him feel the possibility of pain. "of men specifically".

his own fingers curl inward again. endeared to your warmth. "i guess i'd be susceptible then".

you smile. thumbs running from his neck to the work of his jaw, where the hair is thick and bristling, till you find your self soothing over his freckles. his own touch soothing just the same into the line of your spine. his lips planting into your palm. into your wrist, lingering to feel the pulse of your blood against his mouth.

"you're too warm", kissing your wrist once more. "too welcoming to be so cruel", he says. as if he knows you well enough to know such things.

"and what if that's the act before the inevitable?" you gaze flickering up through your lashes. touch slipping again, along his neck, thumb over the apple of his throat. palms coming down to hold at his arms. feeling the thickness of them beneath his clothes. you smile. "i sink my teeth into you before ripping you apart".

the music is light. eases your bodies into a swaying still. alone together in this little corner of the lounge. of the world.

"you make it sound like a good time".

"depends on what you're into i guess".

"you seem to like to play with your food".

your lips grow closer. the seam of them faint and teasing against his. sharing breaths and the thinning control to not act so suddenly on long built desires.

"a bit of patience makes for a better savoring".

he grins. wide and daring. "i just like to go for what's mine".

"whats yours?", you laugh. so typical. you play an eye roll. "who knew men could be so possessive".

he lips take their own gentle trailing. from near your mouth to the supple skin of your cheeks, steady and light, soft at your jaw till they go about your neck. the tip of his nose pressing into your pulse. fingers deepening into your back, urging an arch into your spine as you cling to him gladly.

your blood thrums harshly. thrilled. he hums, licking his lips, and the slight of his tongue wets your skin. and there he is warm, that much you can feel.

"as possessive as the day is long. you're not wrong about that".

"but it's night time now".

he kisses your pulse. the touch of his mouth sweet. stirring. the mantle in your belly burns.

"that's when the pursuit is sweetest".

he spins you again and you take the time to breathe. to gather the restlessness in your body that longs for him to do something undoubtedly amorous. and that same hope dances in him, plays about his nerves and the set of his eyes.

"where do i know you from?", too troubled by the possibility to ignore it.

"nowhere".

"then why is your face so familiar?"

he grins. "you wouldn't believe how many women have stopped me to tell me the same thing. maybe i just have that face".

'bullshit', you think. the idea laughable. "you're too handsome to be familiar. maybe it's just them easing their way into trying to fuck you. compliments and a sense of familiarity go a long way".

his forehead rests to yours, his throat humming. mulling over your words. guiding your hips through the melody still.

and when he speaks, the lewd make of his words stick to your lips.

"do you want to fuck me, angel?"

your breath hitches. lightly trembling again in his arms. in the tightening bind of his fingers. your blood sweetening in his nose, like the first drips of honey.

"is it not obvious enough? do you have to ask?"

and no he does not make you suffer. does not force the words off your lips, to soothe the width of his ego. it would only sour the warmth in his hands, for a woman such as yourself should not beg. should not reel with an exposing desperation, even amidst the shadows of such ill lit corners. she should be taken as she so coyly wishes, with firm sweeping tongue and the powered grip of an impassioned lover. and roman had no qualms of doing such, of kissing you greedily and forming your body to his. of curling his hands to bruise the silk of your dress, fabric crushing in his fingers till the high slit ran into his palm, leaving your skin bare. whiskey on his tongue, slipping lewd, with much method, to leave you drunk off the wet roaming of it as he buried into your skin else where.

your back roughs into the oak pillar, carvings kneading into you. the brush drum steady, louder, accompanied by the bright trill of a piano.

roman moans into your mouth. light and deep. breathing tensely through his nose. your hands take his, searching over skin to guide him. the heat nestled between your thighs coaxing his tongue to lick into your mouth.

he smiles. your breaths rushed and ragged. a lone finger taking a simple glide till he slips through your slit. and the silk of your heat is something memorable. a soft warmth he's known once before. groaning, mouth open to breathe into you till he's ruffling into your neck.

your hands cling to him and your hips chase him. whimpers singing from your throat.

"you'll have to forgive me, but i need you quiet", he gives. feeding the long tease of his touch pass the tight ring of resistance, till he's seated deeply. steeping his finger till satisfaction bruises his nerves. he wonders, after having you tremble again under him, if he'd ever be satisfied. "charge it to my own possessiveness, but i can't have them hear you. hear how pretty you sound".

he retracts, to join in another finger. a thicker stretching that leaves you to struggle against the breaking of a moan. your face hot and damp. the air thick and his mouth at your pulse urging your blood to rush, as if it knew it was him nestled against it.

"okay?"

he strokes wet, firm feeling and slow. a patient working in that reverences the wild throbbing you take to it. an uncontrolled, mindless pulsing about his fingers.

"need you to answer me when i speak to you".

and his voice grows dark. controlled but undefiled still in the depth it holds to. it sinks into your flesh, commands your lungs to breathe, for words to form. shy and pliant. "okay".

he moans again, licks into your skin, savoring the salted taste of sweat. and his touch feeds into you, roams into a roughness, the staccato of the brush drum blending seamless with the arousal coating his fingers. a sticky, pitchy mess singing lewd from your pussy as you struggle not to curse brightly into the thick air. but he makes it nearly impossible to breathe, to collect even the smallest sense of control. and his pleasure works over your body in familiar ways, remembrance sullying your bones till they surrender from some odd far away sense of knowing. as if all the skin and bones and nerves that make you have found something long lost, teeming with joy at such a faithful reunion.

his lips pull into yours once more. your fingers holding over his face, keeping him there, to suffocate under his tongue. a sweet sweeping in, lapping lazy over yours in his own delirium. you suckle over the whiskey taste, thumbing into his cheeks.

your core tightens. a salacious warning. burdening and hot as his thumb joins in to push against your clit.

your forehead knocks gently into his cheek. nails sinking into his thick neck. unable to speak by his request but so desperately needing to express the weight nailing over your nerves.

the tension, unreleased, builds over. pricks your eyes with a glassiness. you tremble still. "roman please", wispy and small.

his skin delighting with the brush of your breath. desperations of pleasure bleeding into his skin. the ache and the burden of your arousal seeping hot over his fingers. clutching onto the thick of them. needy and mindless.

his eyes meet yours. breaths stuttered and words ill formed as the heat of his staring pierces. flecks of red revealing before their disappearance. your mind too muddled by pleasure to care.

"have at it", he whispers. thumb rolling over your clit as he deepens the ways of his fingers. "it's yours".

your mouth presses into his shoulder, to muffle the cry that comes with that wild bursting heat. the pulsing in your skin and the heaviness in your chest. fighting for air as his mouth sweeps to kiss over your lips. fingers reveling in the messiness of your release. playing through your slit, soothing over your clit till he pinches the pearled nub, wringing out the remains of arousal. your hips rutting to chase the sensation, insatiable and wanting still.

you whisper to him, rushing and grinding your hips still. "i'm renting upstairs. s'not too big, but it's not bad, if you-if you wanted to come up-"

"lead the way".

and not much goes into the song and dance, of feigning interest about egg shell white apartment walls, and the color of your furniture. or how your place is just a greater carrier of the way your skin smells. comfortingly sweet and all consuming. his eyes not minding the antique lamps and neither does he care too much for the stacks of books and large hung up paintings. because he remembers these things quite clearly —your knack for artistry and your mind for words in books— of the woman he knew before you, the one with a different name but, her, your face all the same. the innocence of your forgetfulness twinging where his heart used to be. because how could he be angry, at the things you fail to remember, when now the peace upon you rests so dearly. years of waring with himself about ancient decisions long forgotten, as he spreads his tongue through the swollen slick parting of your folds. enraptured still, after all this time, by how your taste coats his tongue. arresting even the sharpest parts of him.

the lay of your body picturesque along the kitchen island counter. and the marble top is not nearly as cold as his skin, but it shivers you all the same. late night, early morning, summer breeze willowing over you.

the drawling alto of your moaning much different from earlier. something rawer and less refined but angelic all the same. a blend of feathering whimpers and ill controlled swearing, ravishing his ears. coaxing them to burn red as they rest between the heat of your thighs. and when he dips over the swollen nub of your clit, lips kissing messily, his eyes take to the curves of your skin. supple plans of warmth that leave him aching.

your mouth opens lax, devastated by pleasure. fingers twisting against the hard peaks of your nipples. rutting up against his wet mouth for more of his good torture. his tongue invasive and exacting. thick and stroking against the lush opening of your body. and your moving is mindless, driven by blood lacing lust. the ball of your foot hooking into the broad muscles of his naked back as the other aches idle under the weight of his fingers. pushing into him, holding him hostage.

the soft sweat dampened slope of your back arching. fingers curling into the edges of the kitchen island. "you're so damn greedy for it", toughing out of your mouth. words cutting through short breaths.

he moans. dipping his fingers where his tongue had been. eyes casting over the swell of your breast, where your breaths shudder outward. delirium overtaking, slowly, steadily, dulling your eyes and the manner of your nerves. his thumb finding your clit with ease. pressing firm. "can't be a bad thing, not when you're shakin and tightenin up for me like this".

your head rolls straight, to find his eyes dilated. near black even. "you like it".

"no, angel", that delicate term returning to wreck havoc over your skin. "i love it". his lips pursing as he gathers a sticky line of spit, letting it drip to your clit. a man possessed, watching you pulse about his fingers. "real sensitive to my touch". and the kiss he leaves along the mess of your folds is terribly gentle. something like a gift. lips pursing, sweeping with tongue, as if he were taking in your mouth. and there he stayed for sometime, tonguing over the swollen bundle of nerves, nailing into your thighs, and breathing in the essence of your warmth. "y'sound so sweet when i have my tongue on you", going on like a man long starved of touch, passion unsullied by time. and when he parts, mouth and the bristling hair of his beard soaked over, the groaning that draws up from his chest proves to be uninhibited, a bout of impatience slipping in his blood to poison his resolve.

his vision fights for sharpness, for control over more primal urges. "wanna hear you when i make you come".

you smile. overdone with pleasure. "so many request".

"request can be denied". his tongue laps lazily, in a means to savor, and he moans till it shakes into laughter. amusement coursing him as your thighs flex in attempt to close against him. "you have yet to deny me".

and his truths are proven. the spasm seizing your nerves and the drool pooling from your pussy enough to satisfy the surety of his words. the lithe forming together of a speechless pleasure breaking from your throat like feathered little songs. an ensemble of gasping and whimpering brighter than the day sky. and when you fight for air, to reel in the overtaking frenzy, the coarseness there in your throat rumbles beneath your skin, till its a deep resonance slipping into his ears, daring to drip into his blood. an everlasting poison.

a siren indeed.

roman plants kisses into your skin, a slow trailing up towards your navel. face planted into the heat of your belly. the scent of your arousal, a sweetened ambrosia. his chilling hands roaming over the aching in your thighs till their kneading reaches your hips. your numbed fingers run into the roots of his hair, circling over his scalp tenderly.

"c'mere".

you sigh. blissed and pliant. legs and arms shakily wrapping over him till they cling for fear of letting go. your nose tucked into the thick of his neck as he carries you to the soft leather couch.

and he just barely overtakes the quaint little furniture, nestling into its corner to spread his leg out as the other bends to hang over comfortably.

you waste no time. lips molding over his dewy ones, your taste steeping into your tongue as you suckle over his. nimble fingers undoing his pants till his cock is heavy and hard in your palm. his dull nails threatening to bruise your hips as he flushes your pussy over him. breathes undone and stuttering, mindlessly working your still swollen clit over the thick of him. tip pink and aching for something more than the tease of your folds. and a nostalgia takes to his bones, a similarity of passion paining him, memory this boundless flooding. the sinking in of your nails as you kiss his mouth and the heat of your skin, clinging to him for fear of losing him, all too agonizingly familiar. he can feel it beneath his toes, amongst the sensations of bliss, the sand of summer beaches and with the burning at the tips of his ears a bright bursting laughter. far away memory comes to him here, flowing along a breeze.

a fist takes to his stiffness, the other hand holding up your hips. your lips trembling, one against the other. sharing thick intimate breaths. and amongst the late night silence, he stretches you delicately. a leisure, deft upstroke that waits with patience to feel your warmth. a steady handling of your hips as you attempt to settle him in.

your jaw opens lax, gasping as the knocking out of wind leaves your words broken.

"shhhhh", mouth pursing into yours. kissing into your cheek. once and then twice. his hips winding up into you. and the racing of your heart echoes in his ears, forces his tongue into a craving. your blood sweet in his nose still. "take me slowly", palms working your hips to grind into him again. spine throbbing, dazed even as your throat sings with little pleasures, heavy breathed and delirious. "relax into me", a soft command that overtakes the stiffness in your body, coaxing you to settle, molding into the thick mass of him. nearly impossible to tell the beginnings and endings of your bodies. "breathe". and your lungs open, the headiness of him delighting your nose.

and the tenderness here is similar to gentle rain. the light kissing of lips and the working in of pliant fingers, caressing soft blissed skin. your heart beating with vigor against his chest, strong enough that it feels as though one exist within himself, pulsing about and filling him with life.

his sharp teeth pull at your bottom lip, edging there just enough for a shiver and a moan. for the quick thoughtless rutting of your hips, squeezing against his cock, steeping him in a wet heat that left a terrible aching in his balls. he wanted to fuck you madly, suffer you to take him in his fullness till neither word nor thought could ever exist long enough to leave you. he wanted to consume you, enough that you would not forget him again. but this intimate savoring was too rich for him to just abandon on the account of wanting to run your pussy ragged. he could possibly do that another time, if you would have him. if you would cradle his head like you do now, letting his tongue lead over your skin till it prodded and sucked over your nipples. growing greedy, palming your breast to adore the sensitive skin. if you would have him, he would treat you with his urges, charm your body with anything you wanted.

your clit pulses, urges a grinding to knock softly against his hard body. and the insatiable need teeming in your blood is nearly unbelievable. never having felt so wanton and filled with desire.

his lips gentle still and unchallenging as they meet yours again. unhurried but sure. like he'd kissed you a thousand times.

your eyes flutter open. forehead resting against his. and when the earthy brown of his stare burns into you, the familiarity of him burdens your spirit so. a deep, undefiled pressure that flutters your heart.

the grainy sand of a summer beach and bright bursting laughter.

your thumb caresses the freckles at his cheeks. "i know your face". thumbing over his mouth. "your tongue. your hands. your eyes".

he sinks further into the couch, lets his head rest against the arm of it. pulls you into him. "where from?"

his inky hair, long undone in the midst of passion, falling about him. his gentle kissing mouth and his hands. his penchant for whiskey drinking and the unforgettable way he feels, filled to the hilt.

"from dreams".

he hums, indulging the thought. collects your hips with a covetous touch. torturing the dulling ache in your clit to flare with a renewed sense of life, fingers curling in to work your pussy over him, stroking up to meet you with a tenderness that reddens his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

his words a gruff escaping.

"how can you dream about a man you don't know?"

the drool of your heat coats him with its own spirit of endearment. dribbles out till its slicking over the tuft of hair just where you meet him. your teeth taking to your lips, a feverish excitement lacing your pleasure still, beautifully undone, and becoming undone still at the splitting stretch of his dick. you slur even in your delirium, assailing the leather of your couch's arm as you bounce against him. knees bent and thighs aching, but still, he opens you fully, feeds into you like he belongs there.

you stitch words together drunkenly.

"how can you... how can you kiss a woman, fuckk!..kiss her so lovingly, when you've never met her". your teeth clench. touch playing over the dampness of your skin. a taut nipple caught over your thumb, encouraging the pulsing warmth that greedily clings to him. "why would you want to do that?"

and if he had a heartbeat, it would burst with a raging. leave a vicious pounding into the ways of his pulse at the utterance of such a question. if only you knew.

"your dreams are just desires. they'll pass".

"and when they don't?"

you fight. for answers that don't leave a bitterness on your tongue. for his touch to become this great staining. a deep enough stitching beneath flesh and bone.

"they will".

you voice small. near fearful. "i don't believe you".

roman corrals you. faster than the air can refill your lungs from such an abrupt shifting. laying under him, heavy breathed and trembling, your shoulder blades resting over the arm of the couch. his eyes splitting into your skin, roaming, as always, as if to remember for the sake of forgetting, this soft surgical tearing through till you can feel the influence of him. a stuttering in your heart. fear and excitement one and the same. and when his cock ruts, slipping in wet and nearly unforgiving, you gasp into still thick air. his body hard and fluid, hips working deft, tongue running over the ways of his teeth.

his palms form over your thighs, pressing in to curl at the pliant flesh.

his heavy breaths take in the scent of you. sticky arousal and the tempting sweetness of your blood. he groans, fucks into your pussy with a toppling desperation.

his hair falls over him. raven colored and silky. his stitching together of words slurring. pleasure mounting his bones. taken by the dripping clutch you've suffered him to endure. but he's taken freely. gladly even.

"what do you want?".

his eyes glazing over. and you reach to nail your fingers over him. over taut tough muscle. a harsh prickling that feels delicious in his skin.

roman feels alive. like he could do anything. could give you anything.

thrill in your eyes and the heat in your skin, moaning beautiful, and if not for his deadness, it would surely be fatal. your lips now rouge-less, but addictive all the same. he wants to consume you.

"you". nothing more sure could ever be said. "i want you".

he grows faint in his control. words near a whisper.

"you don't know what you're asking for".

a breeze indulges the room. cuts into the thick air.

"please".

your body seizes. bursts hot and wild. and here he growls, dark and unbound from control.

red flecks spot his eyes, his breath oddly warm as he lowers his lips to kiss yours. tongue sweeping in, rough and rolling over.

your body preens, hitching and pulsing still. his nose nestling into where he can feel the beating of blood along your neck.

you sigh. content. arching your body into the weight of him.

a paining tear into your skin. sharp teeth into delicate supple flesh. blood slips over onto already tainted leather and the wide flat licking of his tongue. he moans, drunk, weighted against the abrupt shock of your body. drinking in the fast drip of red as he comes undone.

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