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#I'M NOT A SIMP YOU ARE
thatgirlfluxwoman · 5 months
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Lol
@ask-the-rag-dolly MOD BEE I'M NOT IN LOVE YOU ARE
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WHAT HAVE YOU DONETO MEEEEE-
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sky-is-the-limit · 30 days
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Me watching Supernatural: Yeah, I'm a Dean girl-
4x01:
Me and Dean Winchester: nevermind-
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vaguely-concerned · 2 months
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can't believe garak went from 'hope you have fun following my little breadcrumb trail of maybe-truths doctor it builds character ;)' at the beginning of the show to '*sigh* fuck it here's the whole loaf. the entire fucked up bakery of my soul. if you somehow still wanna have sex with me after this you know where I am, yours in infinite longing etc.' in a stitch in time. has anyone ever been so pathetically horrifically enduringly down bad as garak is for julian (laudatory)
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hualianschild · 1 month
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love how instead of accepting he liked kissing hua cheng he blames his teacher for not teaching him how to not be tempted by men 💀
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purplesound · 2 months
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I caught brain worms for hazbin hotel😔
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dumplingsfordays · 29 days
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the phone call
pairing - Megumi x fem!reader
genre - smut
summary - you call Megumi one night in hopes of changing your relationship from being best friends to lovers and it ends very unexpectedly.
cw!: nsfw (sexual themes), mutual masturbation, pet names (sweetheart, baby), bffs to lovers, reader has female genitalia, swearing, timeskip to all characters 18+, one (1) mention of voyeurism + hair pulling + tummy bulge
note - back (sorta?) from my hiatus but I won't post content as frequently. sorry to all you beautiful people who submitted asks 😭😭 I'll make sure to do those fics asap b/c y'all are honestly lovely and overall really respectful and I appreciate it! thank you sm for being patient w/ little old me <33
art credit!
and as always, thank you for reading :))
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Quiet sighs escaped Megumi's lips in tandem with the soft breeze outside, whistling against the glass windowpanes. Moonlight drifted across his fair cheek like a silvery veil, making his pale skin glow slightly, and his long eyelashes, a trait that wasn't his favorite but one that almost every girl constantly pointed out with jealousy, fluttered when they met the edge of the light. And then, in the peaceful summer night-
Bzzt. Bzzt.
The raven-haired man sat up in his bed with sudden urgency, hand moving quickly to his phone on the nightstand and picking up.
"Hey, 'Mimi," your sleepy, half-awake voice came from the speaker. "Sorry to bother you but it's kinda important."
Upon hearing your voice, he relaxes - he lays back down and stares at the blank, white ceiling. "Yeah?"
"Uhm, I just wanted to talk to you about something..."
God, your sleep-laced voice was so gentle, sweet, alluring, even. He couldn't help but sneak a hand towards his abdomen to lay it on his stomach.
"Hey, 'Mimi, you there?" You ask all of a sudden.
"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm listening, don't worry."
You must be at your desk working, then, he thought, since you're up this late. Wait, no -- he heard the shuffling of bedsheets or something similar a moment ago. That was you, right? Were you also in bed? Did you also have the ghost of a smile dancing on your lips? Was your hand also laid down on your abdomen? Was it slowly creeping further and further down, until-
He shakes his head, rousing himself from his thoughts.
God, Megumi, what the hell are you thinking? They're your best friend, nobody thinks about their best friend getting off!
...Well, something about that scene was... arousing, almost, to him. The mere thought of you, laying on silk bedsheets and rubbing your clit to his voice, sent a shiver up his spine and he snaked his hand under his boxers. Well, guess he was doing this.
"So, um..." you continued, sighing, "I was thinking. I know that it's probably too late into the night to even be discussing this, but..."
"Yeah?"
He lets out a small grunt afterwards as his fingers come into contact with the sensitive skin of the tip of his semi-erect length.
"...are you okay, 'Mimi? Are you working out or something?"
"Ah, no, I'm just..."
Just, you know, casually touching myself to the sound of your voice. Nothing wrong with that at all. There's definitely nothing wrong with jacking off to your best friend's voice.
"Just, um. Moving my, uh..." His eyes glance around the room and lock onto the bedside table. "My table."
There's a small lilt to your voice as you laugh softly and clear your throat before speaking, and Megumi swears that he just got lightheaded from the rush of blood to his nether region.
"Okay... I was just thinking about, well... this. Our friendship."
He tries not to sound too strained and breathy when he replies, starting to slowly move his fist up and down his leaking cock. "What about it?"
"Well, I think that, um.. you're a really nice person. And I really like you. And recently, I was thinking about what it would be like if we, um..."
You pause, biting your lip. Should you really finish your sentence? What if he takes it the wrong way?
"You can say it. I won't judge, y/n."
"Thank you..." you laugh briefly and breathlessly, fidgeting with the skin on your torso. His words were innocent, but it was the tone in which he was speaking that made your thighs twitch slightly and your mouth dry up. Christ, Megumi always made you feel things that you knew you shouldn't be feeling towards a friend who probably only liked you as one. "I, well... I was thinking that it would be nice if we hung out at some point. Maybe, like... go out on a date, or something... I understand if you don't like me in that way, or if you're too sleepy to decide yet, but I just wanted to put that out there..."
His eyes widen a bit as he hears the word "date", and he subconsciously tightens his grip around himself, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. So you were interested in him, too.
"I'd... I'd love to."
He forces down a quiet groan as he hears the pitch of your voice rise slightly in excitement. Unbeknownst to him, your hand slides down your lower abdomen, gliding across your upper thigh.
"R-really? You're not kidding or anything, right? I mean, like... please don't worry about making me feel good about myself or anything, just..."
You hear him laugh softly on the other end, which makes that spot between your legs throb even more intensely.
"Of course," Megumi replies, trying to sound as put-together as he can. "I won't lie to you about stuff like that."
Smiling, you sigh in relief and your hand comes into contact with your inner thigh. After a brief pause, he speaks up again, his voice a little deeper.
"So.. anything fun happen recently in your life? Any new books you've read, or interesting gossip you've heard?"
Your head tilts to the side as a scenario pops into your head at his words. Him, laying next to you, whispering into your ear as his fingers caress your--
"Nope..." you laugh, a little shakily due to the intrusive thought. "But there was this one thi--"
He makes a quiet noise of pleasure and you choke, your fingers finally touching your slick cunny and rubbing it gently.
"...M-Mimi, did you... are you...?"
"Christ, I'm sorry, I-- fuck. I'm sorry, y/n, I didn't-- God, I..." he sighs, regret clear in his tone as he apologizes. "You probably think I'm some creep or something now. Feel free to cancel the date, I don't deserve it anyway after all this."
You swallow and you feel your face redden in embarrassment before answering, whispering.
"Actually, I... I, um, I'm not mad. I-I'm doing the same."
"What?"
His reply is instantaneous, his voice a mix of nervousness, shock, surprise, with the undeniable tinge of arousal. You were going to be the death of him someday.
"I-I'm doing the same. I know it's weird, I..." you trail off, sighing. "I'm sorry too."
"Can we..."
Megumi's trembling all over now, his cock unfathomably hard and standing up at attention in his fist, which begins to pump up and down a little more rapidly. You can hear it very faintly from your phone and you practically gush at the sound.
"...can we, um... keep doing this? And talking? I just... I think that since you're interested in me and I in you, we can satisfy our urges, I guess..."
"Please," you shiver, voice getting softer and more desperate as he talks.
"Fu-uck..." he groans out, biting his lip and looking down at himself. He decides to finally remove his boxers and strokes himself under the blanket, leaning into his phone's microphone as he pants softly.
You, in your own bed, whimper at the expletive -- you knew his voice was attractive, but this? Him swearing, and in that rough yet pleading tone, too, made you unimaginably wet.
"Can you... can you describe it? Please?" you choke out, toes curling as your fingers press against your clit slightly.
You hear him groan at your words again before he replies.
"I-It's standing up real tall 'n warm, sweetheart... it's fucking throbbing, all for you... God, I just wanna bend you over and... shit... just shove my cock into your tight pussy..."
You moan quietly as you imagine the absolute filth of the scenario, how deep his thick cock'll reach inside you... he'll probably be thrusting into you so hard that people on the street will hear the rhythmic slaps of skin on skin from the window of your bedroom all the way up on the fifth floor. And, oh, God, what if he grabs your hair and pulls on it, twisting your back and pulling his face closer to yours to meet you in an intense kiss, teeth clacking and tongues intertwining in this passionate dance for control?
"You're gonna feel so good around me, baby... maybe clench as I play with your clit and press my hand to your stomach to feel that little dent of my cock... you're gonna feel so fucking warm and wet around me..." Megumi groans loudly as his hand does a particularly satisfying stroke around his length, smearing slightly sticky precum in his fist. "Christ, I can already imagine it... I'm so fucking close..."
"Me too," you cry out, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive skin and thighs quivering from the electrifying pleasure. "I'll feel so good, 'Mimi, so full..."
His fist travels up to his tip, continuing the up-and-down motion as he moans shakily. "y/n-- I-I'm gonna-- fuck, think I'm gonna come--"
You whimper in reply, toes curling and forearm flexing. At long last, that wave of heat crashes down on you both, him groaning shamelessly as thick cum spurts from the red tip and onto his fist, and you gasping for air, moaning as you reach your respective peaks. Your body trembles as you're thrown around mercilessly by your orgasm and he can tell very clearly by your voice -- it's high-pitched, desperate, and borderline wanton.
As you both calm down from your highs, the movements of your hands and arms gradually slowing down, you giggle breathlessly.
"This was... ah, certainly something..."
You hear his voice, deep and comforting as he chuckles, through your phone speaker.
"Indeed it was."
"...But we're still going on that date, right?"
Megumi laughs. "Obviously."
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beloved-blaiddyd · 1 month
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yandere half-dog!Gallagher and forgetful farmer!reader au medium effort doodles before I start my day lol.
Edit: more dog gallagher content here
Short additional brainrots:
(Y/n)'s family has a long history of adopting hounds, even including them in their family tree.
Initially, they have no plans on getting a dog. They can manage the farm just fine and was not interested in investing on livestock (chickens, sheep, cows, etc.) They're not confident enough in their abilities to raise an animal.
??? once belonged to another Family, which unfortunately treated him poorly. He was not given a name. There was a period in the summer wherein his owners forgot to give him water, and when he did hear the sound of liquid trickling down— he cringed at the taste. He still doesn't know if they were trying to kill him, but from them on, he loathed the taste of SoulGlad.
Needless to say... (Y/n)'s old man was surprised when they brought home a "mutt".
“He looks like he's dying. Pops, can't you help me out?”
“I thought you hate animals...”
“I just stink at taking care of 'em.” (Y/n) sighed. “Please? Poor thing looks like it's on its last leg.”
To this day, Gallagher isn't sure what exactly compelled them to help him. Even when asked, (Y/n) would say they forgot their own reasons behind taking him in. Perhaps he was just that pitiful— or maybe their (L/n) traits finally got to them. He's eternally grateful either way.
And so...
Gallagher gazed at the (L/n) Family tree, caressing his and (Y/n)'s image.
“Hey Master, ya don't have any plans on getting another hound, do ya?”
“Please, you're already a handful, Woos— Gallagher. I don't need another one.”
He grinned, eyes not straying away from the painted walls.
“Good.” He closed his eyes.
“Wouldn't want to share you with anyone else, y'know.”
(Y/n) laughed. “For an old dog, you seem like a clingy young pup.”
Gallagher nodded, savoring their voice. Refreshing, just like cold water on a warm day. You claimed that he's acting like a puppy, but when he was young? He was a biter. Not exactly the loving kind. It was best that you met him when he was already all grown up.
“Well... Perhaps that's just a sign I never got a chance to being one... But when I'm with you, I'm...”
He shook his head.
“Nevermind. What's the agenda for today, Master?”
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poisonous-honey · 3 months
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Fontaine Is Committing Childe Slander fr
Spoilers For The 4.2 Archon Quest
Content: Sagau reader insert (not the cult au), a lot of swearing
Note: Wrote this a while ago, just didn't post till now. This was written because of how frustrated I was with Childe's treatment in the quest. They did him so, so dirty.
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"WHAT THE FUCK!?"
Hearing your scream, Neuvillette, Aether, and Paimon nearly flinched and gave themselves away if it wasn't for Skirk quickly turning around and staring them dead in their eyes.
"AFTER ALL OF THAT, WE DON'T EVEN GET TO TALK TO HIM? WHAT THE HELL"
They never liked hearing you get upset, but since this was a scripted event, they could do nothing but play their parts. Aether wanted nothing more than to jump in and find Childe for you, if even just to get you to stop yelling, but his hands were tied. And seeing the intense look the lady across from him was giving, he doesn't think he'd be able to get away with it even if he tried.
"No 'hey, how're you doing? What's up? Where the fuck did you go? How did you end up fighting a god-damn space whale? I was worried.' We really get to say none of that? Skirk just throws him away like he's yesterday's trash? At least, I think that's Skirk... Okay, fine, whatever."
The group notices a slight twitch in Skrik's expression, as if she was annoyed, but it's gone not a moment later.
"Skirk I hope you're kinda funny cause this is a terrible first impression."
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Skirk watches as Neuvillette sends the traveller topside, hoping that he starts the scripted conversation without any hassle.
"Was it necessary to throw him so aggressively into the portal?"
Of course, that's not what happened. If Childe's mad ramblings were anything to go by, all of those that become the players "characters" seem to grow inexplicably attached to them. She didn't hold his words in high regard since he was insane, but seeing the hydro sovereign already taking a liking to you gives some weight to his words.
"He’s fine. It’s nothing he can’t handle."
Neuvillette, still looking troubled, tells her that you really wanted to see him again after nearly 2 years of nothing.
"Didn't you also upset the player when you pounced on him and sent him to prison for no good reason?"
Neuvillette gave a slight wince, "I had no other choice. The Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale gave the sentence and the law must be upheld."
Skirk doesn’t look amused, Neuvillette just sighs "... And the action itself was scripted. I had my hands tied."
"Then you have no right to look so troubled over my actions. It was simply scripted, nothing deeper. I would not intentionally go looking to upset the player, especially since they can control whoever they want. I have no desire to go back to the surface, which I would be forced to if they ever felt like messing with me."
He hums, "The player has much less control than you think. Even if they wanted to take control of you, they wouldn't or shouldn't be able to do so for quite a while. Falling into their good graces is the only way to get chosen, and you seem to have only just piqued their interest."
Neuvillette was just stating facts. He heard you crying about how your latest wishing session for Furina took everything you had. He doubts even if Skirk’s banner was a couple patches from now you'd have enough to get her. Skirk herself looks a little frustrated at the mention of gaining your favour, but quickly lets it go. 
"As long as I have time to prepare, I suppose. Anyway, We should have our scripted conversation before time runs out. Unless you want them to start freaking out again."
"Of course not, let us continue."
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"The fuck do you mean he's already in Snezhnaya."
Lyney's eyes slightly widen in shock, not expecting that visceral of a reaction. Aether slightly shakes his head to try and get him not to worry about it while Paimon starts her bashful idle as a way to look elsewhere without arising suspicion.
"We don't even get to say goodbye, what the heck. Wait, we never even figured out what was going on with his vision either. They actually just threw him to the wayside! If he doesn't show up in the next interlude, I'm going to be ☆mad☆"
Aether tilts his head down as he starts to ponder. He was also a bit frustrated with how little they learned about what was going on with him. Obviously the whal- Narwhal was involved in someway, but nothing is explained outside their connection. He's suddenly ripped from his thoughts as you pick his next dialogue option and continue the story.
The story continues for a little bit as Arlecchino arrives to join the conversation. You add in some quips of your own as you're watching, but are mostly silent. They just take it as you being tired from the whirlwind of emotions the quest put you through.
Aether then realizes the next actions he has to take and struggles to keep a straight face.
*Actually, I just remembered something... Please help us deliver this.*
"I swear to god, don't give her Childe's vision. He hates her. He trusted us."
Aether can no longer hold back his wince as he holds out Childe's vision for Arlecchino to take. She almost looks amused as they hear you sigh.
"Goddammit."
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Childe was in agony.
This pain went far beyond his physical injuries. The last words he heard from you were you crying out to him. It frustrated him to no end that by the time he gets to see you again, he passes out. He can barely remember your words of praise and cooing about how cool he was for fighting such a creature. Your worry and the fact he doesn't even get to talk to you after all this time hasn't left the forefront of his mind since he woke up. Injuries be damned, he wanted to find the Traveller. He wanted to get something out of that vacation, more than just one conversation, getting arrested, and an incomplete fight. He thought that as long as you still had his vision, he would surely see you again and his vacation would end smoothly, but of course the story seemed to have it out for him. All he could do now was lay here in pain, stuck in his mind while his family is off doing something else.
He's upset he didn't get to finish his fight and that you had to finish it for him.
He's upset his foul legacy has taken such a toll on his body, he can't do anything.
He's upset that his family has to see him in such a state.
He's upset he missed your first encounter with Skirk.
He's upset he didn't even get to talk to you again.
And more than anything, he's upset he can't be there for you.
As he was about to continue wallowing in self-pity and regret, he suddenly finds himself fully geared, standing in front of the Abyss, with no injuries.
"Such bullshit. I loved the story quest, but why was Childe pushed to the side. It's almost like they had no idea what to do with him after they got him to the whale. Oh! It's just one of the creatures he's been wanting to fight for nearly all his life. Do we get to know how he feels about it? Nooo of course not. My man just wanted to go on vacation, and he had to deal with all of this."
Hearing your voice almost washes away all his stress, and hearing you complain about how he was treated washes away all his sorrow. It pleases him to know you hated what happened to him just as much, if not more, than he did. He could tell from your ranting and the fact you've already gotten 36 stars that you were going to fight just to let off steam. That's perfect for him. Killing something is just what he needs to take his mind off of recent events, killing things with and for you makes it even better. He'll be sure to make the best of this before you log off for the day, and he's back to being bedridden.
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The ups and downs of dating nerd scara
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Masterlist
(From the 6th to 30th April, I am having a mini 100 follower milestone event!)
Tags: Fluff Summary: random hcs about dating nerdy scara lul
♡ Nerd!Scaramouche who would rather go on bookstore dates or long library trips with you than anywhere crowded.
♡ Nerd!Scaramouche who lays on your lap very utterly casually whenever he’s focused on his book.
♡ Nerd!Scaramouche who can ramble on and on about his current favorite and just knows that you would listen, with your starry eyes and grinning lips.
♡ Nerd!Scaramouche who kisses you when you poke at his book in boredom until you promise to not mess with him (until he puts his book down).
♡ Nerd!Scaramouche who comes back home with bags full of books and even more books instead of the groceries.
♡ Nerd!Scaramouche who has two modes, either sleeping extremely on time or not sleeping at all to read a good book unless you call (seduce) him to bed.
♡ Nerd!Scaramouche who can barely differentiate between humans and dogs from 3 meters away except for you without his glasses.
♡ Nerd!Scaramouche who, when faced with the deal of trading you for a lot of books, genuinely considers it for a few seconds, just to tease you.
♡ Nerd!Scaramouche who stops you right before you kiss him to take off his glasses while you pout at him.
♡ Nerd!Scaramouche who uses the excuse of having bad eyesight to intentionally miss your lips and kiss you everywhere else on your face.
A/N: Why is tumblr formatting so ass Taglist: @amyminhminh
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henrysfedora · 2 years
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the urge to make a mafia trilogy oc, who is just purely a side character that is so completely irrelevant and only exists so I can either draw them at random intervals or think about them half naked in my head.
honestly I just wanna design a character with a mole under/above their lips. People with moles, y'all are adorable god dammit.
I can't decide whether I make them a detective (because I fucking love characters who are detectives) or literally just some bitch.
In saying that detective norman isn't loved enough, he sat with our man tommy ALL day, had a meal, a coffee, a beer and homeslice proceeded to help him to the best of his ability.
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accirax · 2 months
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the entire fandom rn
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mulatto-macchiato · 3 months
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My two most beloved dumpster fires.
Nova I Don't Like Me Anymore -NOFX Alt. Song The Quitter - NOFX
Sol Lemon Boy - Cavetown
GITM -> @venomous-qwille
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focaccia-nose · 6 months
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me: Free Palestine!!!! Protest, scream, boycott, donate!!! Call your representatives!! Bibi and US government can eat my ass and they need to be held accountable. Just be sure to check your sources, don't post actual nazi rhetoric, and stop using random Jewish people on your timeline as a punching bag
goyim: oh so you want Palestinian children to get murdered
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Bucky Barnes | One Shot | My Queen
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Queen!Reader
Plot: The post-battle energy rush needs a release. Suddenly, there’s a willing soldier at your disposal.
Warnings: 18+. Smut and mentions of violence.
Words: 4OOO
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“There are guests, Your Majesty,” John tells you with pity in his voice, not mentioning it because he thinks you have forgotten, but because he needs you to be aware of the important fact. If you tried hard enough, it wasn’t too much of a task to remember your duties and who those entailed, but it was a relief to have John around to remind you of such things, since you valued your duties and relations with the outside world dearly.
You glance around nervously and give him a guilty pout, grabbing the last of your belongings.
“I know, I am so sorry, but this is important. Send them a plane and I will get back to them as soon as I can,” you plead and quickly rush out of the room to the main entrance hall, John following you as you make your way to the prepared jet.
Mind occupied by making sure your small legion is armed and ready to go as you walk, you get brought to an abrupt stop when two large men block your path. Raising your head, you glower curiously at the rude interruption. As busy as you have been the past weeks, you study each and every encounter you plan, so you know exactly who the two men are.
“Captain Wilson. Sergeant Barnes.”
“Your Majesty,” Sam’s greeting is curt, yet kind. “I don’t suppose a sudden departure is part of your infamous warm welcome?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “You have an awful lot of courage speaking to a queen this way,” you warn him, your tone formal before your features soften towards your guests. “But I apologise. Something important came up and I hardly think sending you into war with me is considered a warm welcome.”
The man you recognise as James Barnes lets out a humoured scoff. “Clearly, you don’t know us very well.”
Your eyes dart between the men suspiciously and a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, hardly able to contain it at the sheer boldness coming from the men. After a pregnant pause and your legion having left the hall to board the jet, you slowly turn to John.
“John. You heard the men. Get them suited and onto the jet.” Sharing one more glance with the men, your eyes lingering on the twinkle of mischief in Bucky’s eyes, you brush past them and step onto the plane without another word.
“It’s not often a queen goes into war with her people.”
“Well, unfortunately my legions are struggling on their own,” you explain to Sam calmly.
“What happened?” Bucky asks, brows pulled together in slight worry.
“John? Could you please bring them up to speed while I get ready?”
As John takes over and shows the two heroes what their next mission will be as they serve someone else’s queen, you step over to the side and let one of your generals help you suit up. Slipping into the modern metal, rusted with nano technology, the shimmering suit glides over your body perfectly.
From the corner of your eyes, you notice Bucky Barnes losing interest from John’s briefing and your eyes lock with his. There’s a rush of heat pulsing through your body at the sheer boldness of Bucky not breaking eye contact once he gets caught staring. His eyes rake up and down the sleek suit and lock back onto yours, a knowing smirk pulling up the corner of his mouth before he drags his eyes away and turns back to his previous conversation.
Leaving you absolutely flustered and furious.
Did he just ogle a queen?
Bucky is startled enough for it to nearly show on his face when he sees the feral look you have on yours. He knows that look, has worn it plenty of times himself. Battle doesn’t quite leave your body and mind as soon as it is over. Even with your spectacular win, which Bucky knows is mostly because of your reliability and skills as a powerful leader, the raging chaos of adrenaline lingers like you have days worth of battles to fight still.
He came in to check up on you post-battle, easily slipping past your guards, to find you pacing in your blood-splattered gear around the chamber before what he assumes is your bedroom. The hall is large and decorated wonderfully, but so very empty with your restless figure pacing through it. He’s certain he can feel your energy buzzing all the way up to the impossibly high ceilings.
Having enough decency to announce himself, he gently knocks on the door from inside of the room. When you whirl towards him in your frenzy, he finds it amusing enough to plaster a smirk onto his face. “Restless, my queen?”
You huff through your nostrils. “I still have fight in me.” He knows. “I want to kill them for springing that attack on us.” He knows that too, but the gravel in your voice awakens a slumbering beast inside of him and fire starts curling around his bones.
“I think you gave them enough hell for what they did to you,” he assures you and something in your eyes seems to soften at that. You did give them hell. Rightfully so.
“But this energy–” You shake out your trembling hands to rid yourself of that restlessness. Bucky nods and slowly prowls closer, hands gliding into his pockets as he slants his head to the side to observe you.
“I know,” he acknowledges, “it takes a while to wear off.”
“How do you handle it?” you ask him, taking a steadying breath as he crosses the room. “After a fight, how do you get rid of all of that energy?”
Bucky flashes you a grin, his brows raising with intrigue and a mischievous shimmer in his eyes. “I hardly think I could speak about such methods to a sophisticated queen.”
“Sophisticated, my ass,” you snap, narrowing your eyes at the broad soldier. “You hardly felt like you had to be appropriate when you were watching me put on this suit,” you say with a scoff, ushering to the intricate metals you’re wearing.
“In my defence, I hadn’t seen you fight yet. Whereas now,” he shrugs, “I’d prefer staying in your good graces.”
“You fuck it out, don’t you?”
Bucky’s blink is the only sign of his surprise and he cocks his head at you again. “Excuse me?”
“The only way to get rid of the energy after battle is to get your dick wet,” you clarify, “isn’t it?”
Bucky chokes on a laugh, stepping even closer to you now with his hands still in his pockets, close enough to make you have to tilt your chin up. “You have a filthy mouth for a queen,” he breathes and to accentuate his words, his eyes drop to said mouth.
“I didn’t become queen by being prim and proper,” you explain with a little less fire than you intended to say it with.
“No,” he breathes, “you didn’t.”
Another restless shudder up your spine reminds you of your predicament, your thudding heartbeat not coming to a rest. You sigh, searching those blue eyes still trained on your lips. “Care to help a queen out?”
“You want to see me bow for you again, don’t you?” He smirks and finally raises his eyes to meet yours.
You can’t help but smile slightly, giving him a guilty shrug, because yes, you loved seeing him bow for you earlier as you stepped onto the battlefield. Not just that, plenty of pretty men had bowed for you. It was Bucky’s willingness and respect as he took a knee for you that was particularly invigorating. He matches your smile and takes a long second to let you take in what he is about to do, before slowly sinking to his knees in front of you, steady hands moving to rest on your thighs.
“Your people are awfully lucky to get to serve you every day,” he murmurs, looking up at you with eyes of fire and submission. That manages to make heat surge to your cheeks and ears, swallowing hard as you take in the sight before you. “May I?”
It takes all of your power not to nod too eagerly before he starts working off the buckles and belts of your suit, the nanotechnology wingmanning perfectly as the metal retreats into the hard base of the suit.
Soon, you are in nothing but your underwear. Bones and muscles are trembling beneath your skin in response to forcing your body to be utterly still. Chemical reactions are ricocheting against the barrier of your skin to make you spring apart. So much energy. So much fire and passion and fury still roiling inside of you. A heavy blanket settles over it – desire. But before you can order him to act on it, Bucky comes back to a stand.
“Close your eyes,” he mutters.
“I’m close to fighting you, Sergeant Barnes,” you promise him, showing your active restraint, but deciding to close your eyes anyway.
He huffs a soft laugh and you feel his eyes burning into your skin, a knuckle brazenly trailing over your collarbones and down the centre of your chest. “I will take you up on that another day,” he answers and your blood heats up at the fact that Bucky revels in both of those sides of you. Most men cower at your bloodlust, but not him. He kneels before it.
Speaking of him kneeling–
“I didn’t tell you to get up,” you remind him and his hand pauses.
“I didn’t particularly think it would be fair to leave you standing as I proceed to immobilise your legs, my queen,” he drawls and you snap your mouth shut. Your eyes slowly flutter open and you find him having taken a step back, holding out his hand for you to take.
Carefully taking it with a questioning look in your eyes, Bucky leads you to your bedroom like he has been there a thousand times. Slowly and deliberately, he guides you to your own bed, still fully clothed himself in those black leathers.
“I expected it to be more rough,” you admit steadily. “Fucking out that energy...”
Bucky turns back to you, hands now on your waist as he pivots you with your back to the bed, the backs on your legs touching the foot of it. “Fucking you roughly won’t do the trick,” he explains. “Fucking you thoroughly will.”
If you weren’t quaking before, this would do the trick. Your heartbeat is pulsing between your legs, hammering for attention, the seams of your underwear teasing you more than the man before you. It paralyses you, that desire coursing through your veins like syrup, makes you fall quiet. Only for a short while.
“Then do it.”
Bucky’s brows raise again, not having expected you to fold so fast. “What?”
“Did I fucking stutter?” you hiss at him. “I need you to fuck me before I explode.”
Bucky smirks at you again and you’re so tempted to smother that smirk – you have your ways. “I am not yours to give orders to.”
You restrain from rolling your eyes at him, the close proximity making you prone to holding your breath and making your words coming out strained. “I’m not going to beg for it.”
“You already have,” he reminds you, not an inch of him giving away that he might be unravelling. “And I think you will, sweetheart. I think you are seconds away from begging for it.”
As if in answer to his outrageous insinuation, a shudder racks through your bones and flashes of that wild battle make your nervous system rush to life again. It’s so frustrating, to have so much energy begging to be released.
His solid eyes and steady hands on your waist make you want to sink into him for relief. You want Bucky to tear you apart, almost similar to the way he tore apart those monsters earlier. Calculated, precise and only slightly unhinged. His fighting earlier was like a choreography your body wanted to study and practice until it can memorise nothing else. The way his muscles moved, the precise strikes of his metal arm, the focused crinkles in his handsome face, his thick thighs planting him firmly onto the ground – your ground. Fighting for your lands. For you.
My queen, he had called you. You suppose he does answer to your commands, then. But you might just beg for it. If only because it feels so tempting. To whine for his pleasure, sob for it and make him serve you like he wanted to do earlier. How awful, for a queen to want to beg for it.
“Please,” you almost gasp from holding your breath for too long.
He hums, low and deadly, his finger kneading gently and appreciatively into your soft flesh. “That’s a good girl,” he murmurs and before you can shout in outrage, he slowly dips down and presses his pillowy soft lips to your collarbone, instantly making your head tilt backwards.
His hands pull you close enough for your front to be pressed to his and your hands automatically grab his shoulders. His lips part and his tongue traces a singular line over the thinnest piece of skin on your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His mouth moves up, tongue dipping in and out to raise your pulse as he suckles at your skin. Your fingers curl slightly and your body starts to nearly shake with jitters at the adrenaline coursing through you like an electrical charge.
Bucky bites down on the tense skin beneath your ear where he hums against you, the sound ringing in your head like a gong. His hands have travelled to your back, stroking up and down the bare skin until your bra pops loose with you barely noticing. You tremble with need when all you are left in are your panties and Bucky pulls away to once again sink down to his knees.
You swallow hard at his stare from below you and follow his silent command to sit down at the edge of the bed. Hooking his hands around your knees, he presses them apart and lifts one leg over his shoulder. Your fingers dig into the soft sheets with anticipation and you only break the intense eye contact to watch his tongue trace his bottom lip. He hooks your other leg over his shoulder and drags you to the very edge of the bed, getting comfortable on his knees.
“Is this where you want me?” he asks, but you don’t deign to answer him. “Kneeling before my queen.”
“Something tells me you don’t mind being there at all,” you answer tightly and his hands stroke up and down your calves lovingly. Bucky presses one kiss to your inner thighs, taking in a big whiff of air and groaning at the smell of your arousal.
“There is something about eating a meal on my knees that speaks to me,” he drawls, his eyes settling on said meal, only covered by the thin fabric of your panties. He presses another kiss, right over the damp fabric. You shudder.
“Then eat,” you bite back, scrambling to hang onto your power as a queen.
Bucky gives a wide grin, keeping his eyes on your soaking core. His hand lifts and his finger loops into the fabric, making you bite your lip painfully hard at the brief touch. He pulls the fabric to the side, spreading your legs enough for him to dive in, but not doing so yet. “That is no way to speak to your soldiers.”
Your soldier, Bucky supposes after today he is. You’re torture. Your smell, your voice, your body, the sheer power you have over him – over everyone.
Your hand finds his hair and you rake your fingers through the thick, brown tresses. Your eyes are soft when Bucky looks up to find them. “Will you take the honour of being my soldier?”
You’re genuine, he’s sure of it. Bucky can tell you’re asking him for so much more than just this. And considering his current predicament, he will consider his duties as your soldier later. Right now, he can only nod, entranced by the queen who has her legs wrapped around his head. He can only think of one duty right now and that is to rid you of all of that devastating warrior energy the only way he knows how.
Bucky buries his face between your legs and begins his feasting. Nudging his nose against your clit and prodding his tongue in and out of you. Licking every inch of your warm, wet, lovely cunt as if it’ll guarantee a place in your kingdom for him.
Sam will kill him for never returning home, but by the heavens, he can’t find it in him to care enough. Not with you tasting so heavenly and– fuck, those goddamn moans.
He was right, he was so fucking right. The slow and steady and longs thrusts make your body hiss in delight. The thorough swivel of his hips when he’s buried into you as far as possible, releases every bit of pent up energy that suffocates you. The sharp snap of his hips right as he’s about to hit home makes you shudder and sob, clenching around him every time as if you feel every thrust like the very first one.
Bucky strikes your deepest spot with each one, your hair between his fingers, your back arched to meet him and your cheek pressed into the mattress. Your eyes flutter painfully against your will, your toes curling when pleasure wraps around every abdominal muscle, your pussy spasming around him in need for release as the pressure between your hips grows to be unbearable.
The sounds that slip from your parted mouth sound inhumane. Soft and pitiful whimpers between huffs of breath. Oh God, oh God. You need him to slow down for a second, except he’s not going fast at all. He’s slow and deep and oh God, he’s so fucking deep.
You grapple for a grip in the sheets, any tether to reality slipping from your mind after every move he has already made. The last of your control, your power as a queen, slips away from you on a phantom wind, desire clouding every piece of domination inside of you. It’s all his now, you are all his now.
Within a short second, you get hauled up by your hair, arched against his heaving, sweaty chest until his mouth nips at your earlobe. Your hands grab his hips behind you, nails digging into his firm skin.
“You still there, my queen?” he coos, and you feel his grin as his mouth grazes over your neck possessively. Your answer is the harsh tightening of your nails into him and the groan he lets out makes you clench around him wantonly. “Oh, somewhere. You’re somewhere in that sex-riddled brain of yours. Losing your mind a little, are you?”
You swear you mean to speak a sentence – a word, at least – but the sound that comes out sounds like another garbled moan and Bucky laughs at your demise. He quickly presses a loving kiss to your shoulder, a deep thrust settling him so deep inside of you, you flutter helplessly around him.
“Don’t worry,” he hums, another deep thrust following as the hand in your hair slips to securely grip your throat and move your ear back to his mouth. “Next time, I will let you take the reigns. You can tie me to the bed and use me to make yourself come. I’m looking forward to it, actually.” You pulse around him and he snickers. “Oh, you like that, don’t you? Prefer to have control and use the ones that serve you.” He bites your ear softly and squeezes your throat. “Oh, but you look so pretty like this. Don’t take this away from me, sweetheart.”
It's a whirlwind of emotions that rush through you at his words. You feel his desperation to have you like this seep through his ignorant confidence having you exactly like he wants you. The last of your working brain cells are screaming yes, yes, yes at his request. You’ll let him have you like this every day for the rest of your life. And it flashes before your eyes, him waking you up by slowly fucking you, hand back in your hair and lazy mouth muttering filthy things against your skin. God, he’s filthy.
Your vision is swirling as his pace picks up and blood flow to your brain is slightly limited by his grip. Ecstasy is rushing through your head and limbs with heavy tingles, and your moans raise in pitch. The metal hand bruising your hips with its possessive grip, slides between your legs and messily toys with your clit, the feeling making you want to buckle over.
“Shit!” you gasp and throw your head back into his shoulder, thighs quaking at the stimulation. Too much, it’s too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel every inch of him glide in and out of you with an ease and precision that feels degrading and embarrassing. Bucky’s breath is equally laboured now and his grip on you turns from possessive to desperate, like he cannot get enough of you into his hands.
“Come for me again, my queen,” he purrs in your ear, knowing what that term now does to you, and you nod blindly. Following his command blindly, unable to resist the feeling of his deep thrusts and his firm circles on your clit any longer, you let the warmth of your orgasm consume you. You tremble and shake and stiffen at his touch and he doesn’t stop. “Come on, keep coming. Keep fucking coming, baby.”
You choke out a sob, surely drawing blood with your nails as you gasp for air, for any word to make him ease up on you, but he only stops when you buckle over and your trembling form succumbs to the sheets below you. Curled up on the sheets, bearing the waves of pleasure that haunt your every nerve, you feel Bucky’s exhausted and sex-glazed eyes watching you carefully. You faintly feel the trickle of him come pulsing out of you and it nearly makes you smile.
Two hands, one scorching with heat and one a welcome cool, gently stroke up the sides of your thighs, cooing sounds coming from Bucky as he watches you come back to your senses. Lips follow his soothing touches, warm kisses being pressed to your quickly cooling skin.
“How’s that post-fight energy?” he asks softly and your eyes finally flutter open to meet his curious ones, the blue shimmering with… Pride.
“Fuck,” you pant, “you.”
He laughs, “Again?”
You breathe a soft laugh and he at last presses a kiss to your lips. If you had the energy, you know your body would betray you by lifting your head to chase his lips.
You finally let out a defeated sigh, letting the corners of your mouth lift to a lazy smile. “Thank you.”
“At your disposal,” he mutters back with slight amusement and you open your eyes again to look at him. God, he’s beautiful.
“Are you,” you dare to ask, earnest in your eyes, “at my disposal…?”
“It would be an honour.”
“Likewise.”
“That is more than I’ve ever had before.”
“The honour?”
He nods. And then leans in, his mouth brushing your ear as your eyes flutter closed again, goosebumps rising over your skin. “I will bow for you any day,” he breathes softly, “my queen.”
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dorimeq · 1 year
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overwatch fanbase right now :
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Something short and sweet for Sanji's birthday because I love him
Bewildered, Beloved
Sanji x GN!Reader
1.2k words
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Spending a majority of his life at a restaurant instilled a strict sleeping schedule into Sanji. It didn’t take long for him to learn to wake on his own without any kind of alarm, and that habit translated perfectly over to his new life as a Straw Hat.
This morning was no different. Sanji awoke at his usual hour, blinking sleepily a few times as his mind caught up with his body. His first instinct is to roll onto his side and bring the love of his life into his arms for a tragically brief morning cuddle session. If he could lay there and hold you for hours each morning, he would. Alas, he had a duty to fulfill as the ship’s cook, so he could only indulge himself for a few minutes.
His arms reach out to drag you to him, only to feel nothing but bedsheets. He pats around your side of the bed, believing he must have just missed your form. Not only were you absent, but the sheets were cold. You’ve been gone for a while. Instantly, he’s wide awake and sits straight up. 
“My love?” He calls out to an empty room. There isn’t a single sign of you, nor a hint as to where you had gone. Not one to sit around and wait, Sanji vaults himself out of bed and hurries to the door. He knows that you are more than likely perfectly fine, but that thought does nothing to quell the worry gnawing at him. He needed to physically see you safe and sound.
He grabbed the door knob, ready to search for you, only for something unexpected to happen. The knob came off. Sanji froze and stared at it in his hand. He tried to shove it back into the door, but all it did was click uselessly in the hole it was supposed to fit into. Stooping down to look closer revealed why it wouldn’t catch. The screws were missing.
This was officially getting weird. Downright bizarre, even.
Desperate for any kind of answer, he drops down and peers through the keyhole. All that got him was a whole lot of nothing. There wasn’t anything unusual about the hallway, and no one was in sight. Sanji stood up and ran a hand through his still messy hair. He didn’t want to kick a door down on the Sunny, but he’s not sure what other option he has at this point.
Heaving a sigh, he snatches his pack of cigarettes off the side table and lights one up. Taking a drag from it did nothing to soothe his mounting anxieties and confusion. He can already hear Franky bemoaning him kicking a door down, but he isn’t about to just sit here when something strange is going on. 
Sanji knows his strength well, he should be able to kick it just hard enough to be able to get out, but not so hard that he sends it flying off its hinges. Taking a deep breath, he rears back, ready to bust it open. Then he hears footsteps. 
A sigh of relief escapes him and he’s quick to knock on the door and call out to his would be savior, “Hey, the door knob fell off and I can’t get out.”
The footsteps come to an abrupt halt. “Sanji? You’re supposed to still be in bed!”
He would recognize his angel’s voice anywhere. The elation he feels from being graced with your voice is quickly replaced with confusion. “What do you mean? I’m supposed to be making breakfast for the crew right now.” He would have to settle for only a brief hug from you this morning instead of his preferred cuddle session, much to his complete and utter heartbreak. 
“Not today. Just… Please get back into bed, Sanji,” your tone was pleading and it hit him straight in the heart. As much as he needs to get to the kitchen, he’s a slave to your words and obeys with only mild hesitation. The door knob is dropped onto the side table as he sits on the edge of the bed, waiting to see what this is all about. 
After a pause, the door is opened from the other side, and you slide in back first. When you turn to face him, he sees you carrying a tray of food. The sweet scents of maple syrup and fresh fruit fill the room, along with the sharp tang of coffee. 
Words escape him as he gawks at the food and then your beaming face. You look extremely proud of yourself as you set the tray on the bed. You kiss his cheek and bring him into a hug, “I made you breakfast in bed today!”
You proceed to ramble about how you weren’t sure your plan was going to work, but were happy it did. As much as Sanji had a tendency to hang onto your every word and listen to it like gospel, all he could do was stare at the breakfast you’d made him. A big stack of french toast was piled onto a plate and decorated with whipped cream and powdered sugar, with a hefty drizzle of syrup over it. Some fresh cut fruit accompanied it, along with a cup of coffee and your favorite morning beverage.
His throat feels like it’s in a vice when he speaks, “You made this for me?”
You stop talking and pull back just enough to be able to look him in the eyes. You’re still visibly elated, but there’s a calmer, warmer glow to it now. “I did. I wanted to treat you to a meal for once, so I really hope this all came out right and you like it. Oh, and don’t worry about making breakfast for the rest of the crew. I got Nami and Usopp to help out and take care of that today.”
Sanji was still in a state of shock as you gently guided him further onto the bed and climbed in next to him. You cut a piece off of the french toast stack and bring it to his mouth with an eager and expectant look on your face. He opened his mouth to take the graciously offered bite and savored it. You could have messed up at every single step, and he’s sure it would still taste like heaven because it was touched by your lovely hands.
That being said, the french toast was genuinely delicious. You must have practiced this countless times to have executed it so perfectly. Finally, he snaps out of his surprise and plasters a smile on his face, lest he makes you believe he didn’t love every bit of that.
He can’t contain his affection for you any longer. His arm snakes around your waist and he brings you in to press gentle kisses to your face. “Thank you, dear. I don’t know what I did to deserve such a gift this morning, but I want to know so I can do it again.”
Your face twists in surprise, then relaxes as you let out a small chuckle, “Well, you didn’t really do anything, but it’s something that happens once a year.” You press a quick kiss to his lips, then whisper, “Happy birthday, Sanji.”
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