#have they shut it down yet? they should. there needs to be an expose style documentary about kik because my god it was a hellscape

[kvetchs]

it’s so mind-boggling for me to think back on kik. what an evil app. like other apps may have issues with harassment/suicide baiting/hate mail/etc. but in my heart it really does seem like kik was maximized/created solely for that purpose

#apps extremely formative to my experience. was still using it my sophomore year like 2018 LOL #have they shut it down yet? they should. there needs to be an expose style documentary about kik because my god it was a hellscape #couldn’t randos just enter your char if they got the number/address for it?? or was that only groupchats?? #also adding now that the drawing mini game on there was very fun and they had cool goth girl emojis for a period of time. so like. bonus #ask to tag

[chaldeanu]

impulse ノ sunday

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 2.5k ノ fem reader — master servant but not in a kinky way . unless… ノ sleeping with the boss . lowkey office romance . secret relationship ノ petnames — angel . dove . sweetheart ノ reader is his loyal chambermaid ノ mentions — makeup . short dress . pantyhose ノ sunday has some controlling tendencies . is a sweetheart anyway ノ sloppy messy style . overstimulation . cumming inside

“i would prefer if you refrained from visiting me at this hour until further notice.” his voice is tired and unusually dragging each syllable as if to prolong the time before uttering something he doesn’t actually want to say.

his divine silhouette of ashy whites and delicate plumes slumps on the armchair as he tries to regain at least an ounce of energy — futile, only making him more aware of the mental exhaustion from the passing day. his head still hurts, even though it has been going on for days now.

a few steps and he notices a movement behind him, hands slowly unbuttoning the tight collar from around his neck and undressing him carefully in complete silence. a feather falling could have easily made more noise. the sigh he exhales is out of relief mixed with a dash of fatigue after sitting up properly. the soreness spreads along his body as you unwrap him from the layers of fine fabrics that hug him gently.

“thank you.”

the only answer you deliver is a soft smile of appreciation towards his gesture.

he looks over your side to check if no one else is near his bedroom to listen, then pulls you by the arm across his lap, resting your foreheads together with his eyes shut. you two spend several seconds in silence, simply feeling each other’s breaths getting calmer and bodies relaxing with every moment shared like this. your delicate fingers start moving up his chest slowly as if examining it for any anomalies; when finding none, you take it upon yourself to embrace him tighter in response.

on the contrary, sunday caresses your head just above the scalp until eventually lifting your face with a finger under the chin. your eyes meet halfway, burning with lust — unspoken since morning yet unsatisfied even during lunch break where he tried relieving himself before taking a quick nap in bed.

he lets out a few weak chuckles, thinking about how hard he should try avoiding any contact today, not letting anyone suspect anything, before giving in to the impulse.

the taste of your lips leaves nothing behind except wanting more despite knowing exactly how much it already affected you two — physically and psychologically alike.

“this is precisely why i requested you not to come here… i need to reclaim composure first, but with that exhaustion and your presence, it’s impossible.”

your expression softens after hearing his confession, also noticing his muscles relax; the grip loosens as you move away slightly from the position above his crotch. he rests against the velvet chair once more while trying to compose his thoughts after admitting a weakness towards something trivial and simple — in comparison to politics related problems.

there were many reasons he couldn’t stop himself from continuing.

“mr. sunday, i’m here to help you with anything and everything. just so you can rest enough to welcome another day with your mind at least slightly less troubled… alright?” you speak in hushed tones, voice calm but determined.

all traces of previous worry wiped out as he exhales deeply before answering your question. he smiles again — tired but sincere.

“yes.”

at which point the atmosphere shifts immediately once again, making things less serious than a moment ago between the two individuals now more than just employer and employee. you resume by unbuttoning the shirt on his torso completely, revealing his pale skin underneath before pushing off the material completely to the sides.

with his chest exposed to cool air along with the robe sliding down onto his lower back, he leans forward, kissing your forehead.

a string of soft pecks going up from there along the bridge of nose toward mouth, leaving it just outside of reach, teasing you like this when you were sure he would continue straight away to your lips…

you shift nervously on his lap, overwhelmed with tension and his closeness, causing the entire scene to unfold right under your own gaze yet unable to do anything about it, too shy of the difference between your statuses.

sunday knows how much power he holds over people… including you. whenever you end up sitting upon his legs for extended periods of time — especially lately since it’s been happening more frequently these past few months. a sight that brings immense pride into his heart. he continues his gentle assault by dabbing kisses across your eyelids, slowly one at a time, before lowering them all over your face; lingering there longer than usual each time around before reaching earlobes once more for one last kiss.

a tingle shoots through your spine upon his warm breath, tickling your sensitive spots as he speaks next.

“do you trust me?” the question itself seems harmless in contrast to how your body reacts whenever it’s spoken directly against your jaw; you shudder involuntarily after every word, goosebumps rising because of his sultry tone.

“yes… absolutely…” your response comes almost automatically. no hesitation, followed by his silent chuckle.

“and if i say that you should listen to what i command tonight then? would you grant my every wish until tomorrow morning?”

as the intensity increases dramatically, you swallow the lump in your throat. sunday’s body language is somewhat threatening, but at the same time so gentle and calming, unlike previous occasions when dealing with clients or rivals during negotiations... it’s inviting you, luring into his open arms.

“w-what do you wish me to do, then?”

his hand reaches to cup your face, turning towards himself for one more look before taking advantage of an opportunity presenting itself before his very eyes — he captures your mouth after closing the distance between quickly.

eyes widening momentarily while struggling against the sudden surge of electricity coursing throughout body while feeling completely trapped when he cuddles you by your waist. he nibbles with care at your bottom lip before biting, teeth scraping over it.

there is a certain taste in his saliva; bittersweet yet addictive as it mixes inside your mouth. unable to protest when his hands sneak behind you to hook the short dress up enough to grip the softness of your ass firmly. he uses force on your rear to rub up against his cock harder than moments before as you find yourself losing grip around reality until it hits that you won’t escape anymore... you will spend the rest of night fulfilling his desires.

after all those years in his service, you learnt to submit quickly — but you wanted nothing else more than this, either.

after you separate from each other panting hard, sunday cups your face one last time before whispering into your ear.

“you’ve always done the best job helping me cope with stress in such wonderful ways.”

a compliment given so sincerely contrasts with his fingers dipping from behind just to tap your pussy through the sheer fabric of your pantyhose, making you jolt back, startled as you grab tightly onto his shoulders, whimpering softly as heat rushes across your cheeks.

“m… sunday, ah…”

before you even realise he’s already grabbing the nylon and tearing it apart, ripping down along the seams with ease. then placing a finger right at the top of your heated folds. he drags through them back and forth without applying any pressure whatsoever, causing your insides to convulse with excitement. your legs tremble on each side of his hips, dragging your weight against his clothed erection that still hides beneath grey slacks; bodies locked together while the fabric becomes damp in an instant.

he laughs huskily as you look down in shame between your bodies — an attempt to hide your face away from his gaze while biting back moan after moan. before reaching up underneath the dress, sunday moves his hand away, brushing his fingertips across smooth skin. to your surprised gasp, his touch lands upon your clit, pressing there to spread tingles in small circles around the sensitive pearl.

“open my trousers in the meantime. touch me first, just for a while, and then ride me, okay, dove? let’s continue from there.”

you fumble with the zip, drawing it down to reveal his needy cock despite trembling fingers. he guides you to grab the shaft between thumb and index finger, sliding up and down smoothly even with precum dribbling down already. you two synchronise your motions after a while.

“see, isn’t this much better for us both?”

you nod weakly, eyes rolling back as he slips easily into your slick entrance. the sounds of squelching being replaced soon with rhythmic slaps from below each time you sit down, bouncing atop his length. your walls are wet, swollen, squeezing every inch out as you buck yourself up until only tip remains inside, forcing breathy sighs from him each time you connect with him again.

“just like that, angel, just like that… ah, hold it right there, yes, perfect,” he commands you sternly whilst gripping hips forcibly. he knows exactly what makes you two crazy, but he enjoys pushing limits of your patience to the breaking point until nothing else can be done except him taking the initiative.

his back arches deliciously every time you stop for a second because it’s too much to handle.

it’s unbelievable how much your dishevelled state can affect him when he usually tries keeping his emotions in check — never letting anyone see through any cracks even if one did appear; no matter how insignificant it appeared on the surface. but the fact of having your in complete obedience on his own lap, whining and shaking from the pleasure he is providing — it’s exhilarating.

the sensation of your warmth wrapping snuggly around him entirely... it brings him the utmost satisfaction to see you lost in bliss caused exclusively by him alone.

sunday’s thoughts go rampant at times like these. the logical part screaming inside his brain to stop, saying this shouldn’t happen with an employee working under him… however, every instinct tells otherwise as you dwell on pleasure, trying your best to not disappoint him with the faltering tempo. there is no break between bounces and just like a puppet on strings, he pulls the strands leading your body towards the release desperately needed since your last meeting.

his fingers dig deeply into flesh of your butt, making sure that nails don’t graze skin too much. you deserve much more than a mere slap or spanking session; you deserve proper treatment, especially now after showing how willing you are to serve him.

so he picks up the pace himself, holding onto you and guiding every single move effortlessly, even in this awkward position where you’re forced to cling to him like a lifeline. your lips clash in frenzied kisses until air runs out, but he refuses to relent, drinking every bit of saliva dripping out of your mouth and tasting sweat mixed along it as you struggle to keep composure.

“please! please, sunday, it’s too much…”

your fingers claw into his shirt, leaving red irritated marks behind. nevertheless, he grins smugly with one last stroke upwards, causing your pussy squeeze tight against base again while feeling tremors passing throughout core before stopping altogether. he lowers your body in one quick movement, sitting you right on his cock until your orgasm subsides.

he exhales, burying head in the crook of your neck, kissing tenderly all over. you stay tense for a long while, simply melting in his arms, completely spent. slowly regenerating strength as he strokes your hair, soothing aching muscles until you relax again.

“that’s right, dove. i love when you do it… just for me to see. can you take some more? please, at least until i finish too?” sunday murmurs tenderly between each peck pressed across jawline.

you hum lazily, nodding again albeit somewhat reluctantly compared to previous agreement, but consenting enthusiastically enough.

he starts moving slowly, drawing slow circles inside your pussy.

“yes, yes, like that…” you respond, leaning more on him with each thrust. he nibbles your neck lightly as a reward for such positive reactions.

as minutes tick away, he gets impatient once again. your hands tighten around his open shirt, pulling him close enough to bite and lick every piece of skin visible. the amount of pleasure building inside becomes almost unbearable as he drives you insane, forcing you to accept how weak you actually feel at this moment.

you shudder from head to toes when his fingertips brush along sides, causing whole body to tense up. hearing your whimpers, he hushes you lovingly.

“i know you can. just one last push. come on.”

and so he does… not stopping.

he pounds ruthlessly into your soaked cunt until there’s no more air left inside lungs as you pants frantically while trying to not collapse right away; bodies locked together intimately, your hands desperately grabbing onto shoulders until knuckles turn white from strain. he’s doing the same around your hips, using a soft force to press every single inch of flesh against flesh.

“there you go, sweetheart, you can do it. you’re almost there... just one more second.”

with that sentence said, sunday flips your body forward and lies back comfortably in the chair, shifting your up and down a few inches until he finds the ideal angle. he pulls your hips down hard on his cock as he slams his pelvis upwards at the same time causing loud moans to erupt from your throat along with high-pitched noises.

tears begin streaming freely, trickling off your chin with each rough thrust while rubbing sensitive spots that leave you writhing, desperately trying to hold off any sort of response. the urge to let it all go builds stronger as he continues the incessant rhythm with barely enough pause between strokes to let you breathe before diving right back in again.

he groans loudly before ramming into pussy again and again. until he eventually clears the pent-up frustration, cumming rope after rope into your fluttering heat.

this triggers the follow-up from your side, reaching peak soon after him. your muscles contracting erratically while remaining frozen above him, eyes squeezed shut tightly as you wail throughout the release, bucking hips on him, milking his cock out of every drop. you feel his cum coating your core, making everything throb and slip inside; every little goosebump on your skin burning.

by the end of it all you fall motionless upon chest completely exhausted yet fulfilled, still leaking from his twitching dick which softens gradually within depths of your body. sunday peppers kisses around neck after cradling your tired form.

“well done, my sweet dove. i’m proud of you for staying with me through it all.” he whispers before gently wiping away your tears and removing all traces of makeup from your cheeks.

the gesture feels natural, as if he’d been doing it all the time in secret before this point.

#writing ノ #sunday x reader #sunday smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #star rail x reader #star rail smut #hsr x reader #hsr smut

[onskepa]

Unlista chapter 1

Hey hey hey!! here is where the series begins! Had to re-write this a couple of times! Hopefully this is good! Enjoy! <3 Uniltsa series

[first pov]

I expected a light, I expected some holy gate to heaven or if some miracle, the hospital. But instead, I opened my eyes to see metallic walls and floors, full of lights in weird styles. Funny enough I dont have a headache despite being hit by a truck. Still, looking around I immediately notice, this isn't some health facility. This doesn't look remotely like anything I know at all! Looking down at my hands and legs, its my body, I am still the same me, thats good. So, where the fuck am I?

Looking down, I almost screamed the top of my lungs. There is a big, blue giant thing in the same room as me. Quickly yet quietly I moved to the farthest part of the room. Honestly I should be screaming but who out there will help me? Am I being kidnapped?! Nothing made sense to me. My head was delirious and I am just assuming so much none sense in my brain.

Suddenly the blue thing moved and groaned and muttered something under its breathe. So it talks?

"ean...? up already? thats new" that voice.......there is no freaking way.....

I couldnt help it, my mouth moved on its own, "l-lo'ak...?".

The blue being sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. The familiar hair style, the voice, the clothing, the FREAKING STRIPES!!

"yeah?" he responds. I just stared at him. Getting a good look at his face. He is real. Lo'ak is real. Getting closer to him I was just amazed. If lo'ak is real then.....

Quickly I ran out of the room and out into the unknown facility. Cold metal everywhere, high tech computers, holograms, sci-fi looking stuff everywhere! It was a lot in one sight.

[third pov]

The girl could help but laugh. Laugh like was some joke to her. Many of the science guys turns to stare at her. Confused, norm stepped closer to her. "hey....you ok? lo'ak said some joke of the century or what?" he asked but the girl kept laugh. Lo'ak stepped out of the room being just as confused as the rest.

"I take she had a good sleep??" another familiar voice was heard. Spider, walking up to the three. He looked down to see his friend laughing, not like something was funny, but laughing like there is something she cant believe.

She stopped laughing and quickly got up. "I NEED A MINUTE!!" she shouted and ran back in her room.

"is she having her-"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"

"nope too early to deal with this" norm held his hands up and left. That left lo'ak and spider looking at each other in confusion. This is definitely out of the range of what their friend does. Spider feeling concerned knocked on the door, "hey uniltsa? you ok?" he asks. No answer. Turning to lo'ak who shrugged his shoulders. Before anything else is said, the doors opened once more, with their friend wide eyes.

"w-what did you say?" she asks nervously. "uniltsa? you know we call you that since forever" lo'ak provides.

[first pov]

ok ok. Uniltsa. A nick name. Same with spider. I can go with that. I dont know if my name is the same in this world. "y-yeah" i muttered out. Taking a deep breathe I tried to keep my cool. "haha sorry, I honestly dont know what happened to me. I guess I must have had a crazy dream last night" I laughed it out scratching my head. They seem to buy it. "just give me a another minute to change yeah?" I shut the door once more and looked around for whatever clothes there might be. In a box at the corner were....stuff? There were what I guess are loinclothes and tops with beads and feathers. Did this world me dressed like a na'vi? like spider? There were still things I am so confused about but I just gotta roll with it.

Putting some of the......clothes on, I felt super naked. I remember that na'vi don't care much of exposed body, but still! I looked at a mirror for the first time. I dont look all that different from real world me. Speaking of, what happened to my body? are my parents ok? Parents? do I have parents in this world? Taking a deep sigh once more I collected myself again. I think I look fine enough.

Leaving the room to see lo'ak and spider chatting. "So you finally calmed down with whatever was going on?" lo'ak asked me. So crazy he is talking me. "Y-yeah, I'm good!" I quickly responded. Not much of a reaction with what I am wearing. I take it that is a good sign.

"well ready to go? we're gonna miss breakfast" lo'ak said as he grabs my hand. The size was massively big. Seeing him on the tv screen is one thing, but to have him in front of me and really feel his hand. Wow.

[third pov]

Uniltsa, as they called her that, was confused but did her best not to show it. Lo'ak grabbed her hand and lead the way out. She noticed they were heading towards the exit of the laboratory. Remembering clearly from the movies, the pandora air was toxic to humans. Where as the masks. Why isnt spider getting a mask? Scared deep down, she took a deep breathe and the doors open to the outside world.

She closed her eyes, waiting for something, but that something never came. She opened her mouth, letting the pandora air flow in her lungs. Uniltsa wasn't gasping, not short of breathe, nothing. Nothing like how she remembered from the films. Something changed for sure.

Spider took a deep breathe, soaking in the sun and the fauna. "Damn, your invention never fails uniltsa. Come on, I know tuk is the gonna get the good ones before we make it!" spider says as he makes a run for it. Lo'ak shouted after him, and before uniltsa knew it, lo'ak picked her up in his arms and ran to meet up with spider.

Uniltsa make a squeaking sound. Lo'ak picked her up. Lo'ak is carrying her in his arms like she weighs nothing, Lo'ak who is real, breathing, living, his skin she can touch.

As he ran, uniltsa looked all over their surrounding. The trees, the plants, the insects, the sky, the water, the flower, all of it. It was real. Pandora is real. If this is truly a dream, uniltsa wishes to never wake up.

And that is it for chapter 1! chapter is definitely already in the works, wanna make this good for everyone! Hope you all enjoyed it! until next time!

Uniltsa = dream of, dream about, dream (that)

Taglist: @tojisleftarm

#avatar #na'vi x reader #na'vi avatar #avatar the way of water #na'vi x human #avatar 2 #lo'ak #kiri #jake sully #lo'ak fanfiction #lo'ak imagine #lo'ak sully #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak avatar #lo'ak x oc #lo'ak x you #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #spider socorro #spider x reader #spider x y/n #spider x kiri #norman spellman #na'vi clan #omatikaya #tuk sully #tukitrey #rda #lo'ak x human reader #spider sully #atwow

[hjorthoover2]

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[teaspoon-full-of-sugar]

lesson

pairing: harry styles x reader

warnings: smut, masterbation, daddy mentions, heavy degradation and humiliation (lots of sluts and whores) but also some good girls !! teasing (so much teasing), orgasm denial/edging, choking, bondage, cum play (so also unprotected sex), pussy play (including spanks and cock thumping), pillow humping (for like a second), spitting, panty fucking, harry has a very dirty mind, please, only 18+ !!

word count: 6.4k

synopsis: he only has one rule, and she still can’t seem to follow it (or in which harry teaches y/n a lesson)

author’s note: hello! this took a little longer than i expected, so thank you for being patient with me! this is absolute, pure, unadulterated filth (absolutely no fluffiness about this—be proud for me) please, note the warnings and don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with anything mentioned above (that’s why i put them there :)) xx

masterlist

—

Y/N’s heart races in her ears as she scrubs at her hands, foamy soap slipping down her wrists in her haste. Harry calls for her downstairs, the front door slamming shut, shaking the house. She can’t find her voice just yet, traces of a stolen orgasm lingering in her tired body. The sheets are crumpled from her quick highs, and her legs are weak. She feels giddy, despite the odd numbness that seeps into her bones. She finally feels fulfilled after a long day of insatiable throbbing between her legs.

Clad in a simple tee and underwear, she steps out of their bathroom when he finally gets up to their bedroom. She dries her hands off, eucalyptus, mint, and other artificial scents lingering. She’s still catching her breath.

“Hey, babe,” she smiles, just like she does every time he gets back home, but there’s something behind it that’s unfamiliar, a devilish hint.

It’s her eyes that give her away.

They’ve been together long enough for him to know what she looks like after she comes, her shaky legs, dopey smile, and glazed over eyes. The mischievous glint is different, however.

“How was your—”

“How many times?”

“What?” She tilts her head to the side, brows furrowed innocently. It angers him; it actually makes his chest tight, and he has to bite his cheek to keep from snapping. She has the nerve to act as if nothing is wrong. Lip tucked between teeth, she steps forward, hands splayed in front of her. An unfamiliar feeling bubbles in his stomach. Not quite possessiveness but certainly close, this feeling is akin to lust and indignation, and it melts into a pool of gluttonous desire.

Normally, he takes a step back to collect his thoughts when he’s this emotionally invested, but it’s difficult when she looks so tempting, so divine, so satisfied. Fresh faced with a cheeky grin, she beckons him, imploring him to punish her, challenging him to ruin her.

He stalks forward, their gazes never faltering, until she falls onto the bed, still looking at him innocently.

“How many times did you make yourself come?”

His words bite, but she looks indifferent, the glazed look in her eyes taunting him. She doesn’t answer, but then again, she knows that she doesn’t need to. He cups her throat, so tender, pliable, and exposed, and he can feel her swallow thickly.

“I’ll ask again. How many times?”

She stares at him, jaw set and ready to hold her own. It’s different from her usual demeanor. No matter how bratty she would act, she easily fell into her submissive headspace, answering his questions obediently and listening to him eagerly. She doesn’t seem to want to break that easily today. Instead of her usual shy and shameful glaces at her hands, she sits up fully, looking him dead in the eyes, and grins, a twisted little smirk that makes his stomach curl and his cock grow thick. She wants to play a game, but it seems that she has forgotten that he is the one in charge. His fingers tighten around her throat, pressing into the spots beneath her jaw that leave her vision hazy.

“Only once,” she says sweetly, albeit weakly from her grip on her neck.

Lies.

He knows that.

She knows that he knows that, but maybe a part of her just wants him to piss him off.

“Don’t you dare lie to me,” he snaps. “How many times?”

His patience is wearing thin, and this game, this teasing, is getting out of hand. She thinks that she can have an advantage over him, while still playing the submissive. Someone needs to put her in her place.

“Almost three times,” she admits finally, sinking back. He finally lets go of her neck, and she holds the spot where his hand once was, vexing eyes yearning for his touch. He cocks a brow.

“Almost? Did I interrupt the third?”

“Yes,” she whines. That’s when he notices her thighs pressing tight together, and she shifts on the bed.

“Does daddy not please you, babylove? You need to touch your princess parts because daddy doesn’t make you feel good anymore.”

Filled with hurt, his words seem to get to her. The familiar docile look in her eyes slips in, and her lips sink into a pout. She’s drinking from the palm of his hand.

“Maybe I just shouldn’t touch you anymore—”

“No,” she cries, sinking further into her headspace. “But—daddy, you left this morning,” she says, her lips pouting.

That’s true.

The night before, she was his soft babylove, who just wanted to be as close to him as possible, be held and comforted and loved. That’s how he awoke this morning: warm with his cock soft inside her. He kissed her awake, as she deserved, and even though he felt comfortable simply being wrapped in her warmth, he needed to taste her. He was slow with his movements, languidly licking along her lips until wetness coated her thighs, teasingly sucking on her clit until she was trembling, wanting to build up the pleasure.

Admittedly, he had to rush out before she could finish and go to a meeting regarding his upcoming tour. He had quite the time trying to hide his semi for the better part of the morning.

“And I was feeling achy,” she continues rambling; the poor thing is close to tears. He feels for his pretty girl, he truly does, but he pushes that aside. A part of him feels hurt, like she couldn’t trust him to take care of her when he came home. Harry doesn’t ask much. She can be as bratty as she wants to, purposefully teasing him when they’re in public or refusing to do the simplest of requests, but he just asks that she let him take care of her.

She couldn’t even give him that courtesy.

“Don’t make excuses,” he scoffs. “I thought you were a big girl.”

“I am,” she promises.

“Big girls wait for daddy to come home and help them come,” he says, stroking her cheek. Tender touches mask his true intent. He suddenly shoves her back, hand tight to her throat once again, and she gasps, head tilting back into their pillows.

“Naughty girls touch themselves. Whores come almost three times at their own hand.” He grits his teeth. “Are you a whore?”

She doesn’t answer, but he can feel her heart racing beneath his grasp. A glimpse of a smile is enough to let him know that she’s fine; she’s enjoying herself, seeing him so riled up, possessive, and ravenous.

“Are you still wet? Achy?”

She nods.

“Whores get wet when they’re in trouble,” he says offhandedly. Her body quivers at the malice dripping from his tongue. “Arms up.”

She does as told, holding onto the headboard, eagerly awaiting his next demand. This is what she wanted, after all.

She has no idea what’s coming.

Usually, whatever punishment he gives her is what she also enjoys, from the occasional spanking to overstimulation. He usually has her coming until she can’t take anymore, until an ache seeps into the bliss.

Not this time.

He tugs her shirt up and over her head while his other hand fiddles in their bedside drawer. Moments later, a pair of silk scarves tie her hands to the headboard.

“Not too tight?”

She tugs on the restraints and shakes her head.

“Color?”

“Green.” She beams, breaking character for a moment.

Even if they were in the midst of a deep fantasy, he has always made a point to make sure she knows that it's alright to voice any discomfort and vice-versa; she often asks for his color whenever he seems to be overwhelmed. They both know how volatile headspaces can be, with the slightest changes making a huge difference in the experience.

He runs his nose along hers, lips tracing along the curves of her face, nibbling teasingly at her chin, down her neck, and grinds himself against her. He sucks on her breasts, biting at her nipples until they’re peaked. She closes her eyes, savoring every spike of bitter pleasure he has to offer. He sits back after a moment, appreciating the glimpse of light that catches her wet skin. He palms himself.

“It’s only fair that I get to come three times since you did. Make us even, right, lovie?”

“But I only made myself come twice.”

Y/N really has the nerve to talk back to him with her hands tied to the headboard, her body exposed to him, the only thing covering her modesty a flimsy pair of underwear. He cocks his head to the side.

“Should we make it four?”

That makes her hesitate, sinking back in the sheets. She shakes her head, cute pouty lips puckering. He would love nothing more than to run his cock along that pretty, dirty mouth, to feel her greedy tongue tracing the underside of him lazily, to wrap his hand around her throat and feel it expand as he fucks her face.

But he knows that she would enjoy it too much.

Too much for a punishment.

Harry traces along the curves of her features, from the slope of her nose to the round of her cheek, soft and lingering, a harsh contrast of what’s to come. He smirks. She parts her lips like a good girl when his thumb passes over them, biting it teasingly. He, then, drags it down her chin, leaving a trail of wetness in its wake.

He can’t help but think about how pretty she would look with cum and spit dribbling from those sinful lips, eyes barely able to stay open. Fucked beyond belief, she would moan his name and other incoherent thoughts oh-so sweetly, her voice wrecked. His grateful babylove, his lovely, satiated Y/N would whisper a soft thank you after taking him so well. He truly wishes he could do that, give her anything she ever desired, make her feel euphoria like never before, a high no one other than him can give her, but she was greedy and naughty and misbehaving.

And she needs to learn a lesson.

Now, he has to tease her, to bring her to the brink of orgasm, only to shatter her, again and again, until she’s on the brink of tears. She’s going to be left unsatisfied, trembling beneath him, while he brings himself to orgasm, again and again, until he’s milked himself dry. She will be grateful if he gives her even a bit of pleasure, but it is not enough to push her to the end.

It would never be enough.

He leans in close, his lips a fleeting embrace, just past her reach. He wants to taste her, but he needs to be patient.

A warmth buries her, and his overwhelmingly familiar scent swallows her, safe and comforting. She doesn’t know she’s even pulling on her restraints until her fingers are numb and tingly, yearning to feel his skin.

Maybe this was a bad idea, but it’s too late to turn back now.

“You can beg and plead all you want,” he says, “but know this: you will not be coming again tonight.”

Her eyes darken, and a satisfied little grin graces her pretty face.

She got what she wanted, tied up and vulnerable to him.

However, this isn’t her game anymore.

Now, she’s at his utter mercy.

“And if you do come, somehow, I will not touch you for a week; not only will you not feel my cock, my fingers, or my tongue, there will be no kisses or cuddles. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“There’s my good girl.”

He unbuttons his shirt, slowly, diligently, his fingers lingering a little long on his inked stomach, knowing that she likes to take her time and admire that part specifically. After he peels the button up away, he finally sits next to her on the bed, his back to her. His belt falls to the floor with a clatter, and she holds her breath.

The silence is deafening, thick with tension. She waits, knowing that patience will help her. She also knows better than to say anything, since it would probably worsen her current predicament. Harry has always been level-headed, even in his dominant headspace, being very patient, especially in trying circumstances. He can take a lot before he snaps. She usually has to beg him to slap her, to spit in her mouth, or to fuck her so hard her legs give out.

This new persona is unpredictable, new, and alluring.

It’s different and all the more arousing.

She shifts, the bed frame creaking. A feeling of naughtiness courses through her, as it did earlier. She wants to see how much she can get away with and how far she can go before he loses control and puts her in her place. She watches him closely, her breathing ragged. She drags a pillow up by her feet, and Harry pays her no mind, perhaps assuming she’s just getting comfortable. His shoulders shift as he nimbly undoes the buttons to his pants, his back muscles tightening and relaxing. He begins taking off his pants, billowy and undoubtedly expensive fabric slipping down one leg at a time slowly, meticulously. The pillow now nestled between her legs, she grinds her hips down, wishing it was his thigh, the one with tiger on it, bared teeth and hungry.

He turns suddenly, and she’s caught yet again, but she doesn’t stop. Instead, she works herself harder, imploring him to stop her—to punish her. The pillow does very little to satiate the pent up tension between her legs, but it’s better than nothing.

Honestly, she knew he was going to catch her in her lies. That's why she made herself come right before he got home. She wants to get caught, the thrill of going against his rules giving her a high she’s still coming down from. And as he looks at her again, fury in his eyes, she could just fall apart. She wants him to put her in her place, punish her for being a naughty, filthy brat.

She wants him to ruin her.

“No,” he growls, ripping the pillow away and effectively knocking her legs back apart. He slaps her pussy with little warning. She squeaks, tugging at the silken restraints. A shaky, guttural moan shutters from her chest, deep and desperate, and her head falls back into the mattress.

“Fuck,” she cries.

The skin of her swollen pussy burns in the most addicting way, leaving her legs spasming, feet slipping down the sheets. She can feel his rings through her panties, just a slight sting, but her clit takes a brunt of the force, and perhaps, that’s what makes it so good.

“No moving.”

He rubs her soothingly, a stark contrast to the fire behind his eyes. Despite how bratty she’s been, her sweet, attentive Harry is still there, making sure she’s taken care of, comfortable, and safe. Her needy hips chase his fingers, a broken plea on the tip of her tongue.

Again.

He twists her panties with his index finger until her puffy pussy swallows them, the swell of her mound bulging from the tight elastic bands. He smacks her again, a little more gentle this time, but hard enough to still make her toes curl. She laughs through a breathy moan, her heart racing. He tsks, mumbling under his breath.

“This is your punishment. You’re not supposed to be enjoying it.” He tugs her panties up tight to her clit. “You’ll take anything I give you. Won’t you? I could spit on you and call you a bitch, and you’ll say thank you. Right, babylove?”

He delivers another resounding slap to her cunt, and then, another for good measure. This time, her back arches from the mattress, eyes rolling back. Fire licks her skin, and it hurts, no doubt, but in such a way that's indescribable; it burns, but it spreads throughout her whole body, and it makes her limbs tingly and warm, yearning for more. Again, he runs his hand along her exposed mound to ease the ache.

“Thank you,” she moans, and he smiles. He spanks her poor pussy raw, again and again, until his hand hurts and her arousal drips onto the sheets. Her thighs threaten to close, but she digs her feet into the mattress, aching for more pain, more pleasure, just more. Her world spins, but at the center of it all is him—striking eyes, teasing smile, and pretty lips—and he’s all hers.

“Taking it so well, pretty girl,” he says, moving to kneel between her spread legs. He can feel the wetness through her panties, and he nudges his head around where her clit is, still blocked by her useless underwear, her pussy visibly tightens with anticipation. He leans back, still close enough to feel the heat from her, and he slips his cock under her panties, the tight, elastic band pulling at his tender skin while her lips massage the underside. She’s wet, perhaps from her orgasms from earlier, but likely from the spanking. He thrusts, wrapped in soaked panties, until the tip of his cock nudges the fabric at the top of her mound, and he twitches when the underwear pulls at the sensitive head in a certain way.

“Such a naughty girl,” he moans, thumbs pulling at the fabric to wrap tighter around his cock. “I’m only fucking your panties, and you’re already soaked.”

He pulls out reluctantly, his cock heavy on her wet underwear. He spits on the fabric and spreads it over her mound, just to tease her little more. She tugs at her restraints and whines from the sudden cold.

A drop of saliva slips past his puckered lips, landing on his open palm, which now cradles his cock. He hasn’t resorted to jerking himself off in a long time; he hasn’t needed to, but he works himself easily, finding a calculated rhythm, fast then slow, quick, eager strokes along the head then long, languid strokes along the entire length. He sits on his heels, and his legs ache from the weight. Her thighs twitch, and she pulls at the restraints. His balls brush against her mound with every movement of his hand, and he swears he can feel her jump with every movement, so sensitive, so responsive. He fucks his fist, hips unconsciously bucking, wishing it is her warmth that coats him, squeezes him, and pulls him in. He yearns to touch her, to feel her smooth skin, but he knows that this lack of physical touch is as difficult for her to bear as it is for him, and that makes it a little better.

Her chest heaves with unsteady breaths, eyes fixated on his hand working his cock. She pulls futilely at the scarves, until her wrists hurt. She knows that she’s not going to be able to get out, but she unconsciously reaches for him. She’s not used to being so exposed, body vulnerable to his gaze, without having him touch her. Sure, their thighs are pressed tight together, but it’s not nearly enough.

This isn’t what she thought was going to happen when she broke his rules. Truly, more so than usual, this is a punishment: to see him work himself to orgasm without being able to touch him. She wishes she was the one to make him squirm, moan, and come.

“Please,” she whines, eyes pleading with him, and he knows what she’s begging for.

“What? You think I want to touch a dirty little brat like you?”

“You’re being mean.”

“I’m being mean? I came home, hoping to spend a nice evening with my good girl, only to find out that she broke my rule,” he says. “My one rule.”

He wishes it was her hand stroking him, eager eyes and tempting smile staring back at him. It would feel so much better than his own calloused fist. He feels himself tighten to signal an impending end, weak but an end nonetheless.

“I wanted nothing more than to come home and to have you come on my tongue more times than you can count, but you couldn’t be patient, and now, you have to take your punishment.”

She twists and squirms beneath him, her body undulating on the sheets. The need that tugs on her features is almost enough to break him, to make him give in and make his pretty girl come on his face, but then he remembers that scheming smile she had on her face, that devious look that made him rife with lust. He remembers that she was on this very bed by herself just before he got home, making herself come, her head thrown back, whining and whimpering. The thought brings the fire back.

He cups her cheek and leans forward, stretching her legs apart, and his cock rests just above her belly button, still cupped in his hand. Her tongue dips out of her mouth. His eager, naughty girl waits for him to spit in her mouth, to shove his ringed fingers down her throat, to do anything, but he pulls back again, and she frowns.

“How did you do it? Did you use your fingers, baby?”

She nods pitifully, and he hums, his strokes quick.

“Yeah? Bet they weren’t as good as mine.” He runs his thumb along the head, pleasure sending chills down his spine, trying to prolong his buildup.

“No one’s fingers will ever be as good as mine.”

He wants to prove it to her, to pound his fingers inside her until she can barely breathe, arousal gushing down his wrist as she comes until she’s crying. He wants to kiss her tears away as she begs for more. Perhaps, with all the teasing and build-up, he could get her to come with just one finger with one well-placed thrust. Her hips buck, and he knows that she’s thinking about that, too. After the stolen orgasm from earlier and the burning spanks her poor pussy received, she must be desperate for anything he’ll give to her.

His orgasm builds quickly, with his thoughts running amuck, visions of her, on her knees before him, choking on him until tears stream down her cheeks, on her back, moaning while he pounds into her, on top of him, grinding down on him, not letting up because she just loves the feeling of him deep inside her belly.

He comes on her tummy, a broken moan slipping past his bitten lips, spurts of his seed stain her pretty skin, and her breath hitches, shocked at the sudden warmth; then, she hums contentedly.

“There,” he sighs, admiring his work.

“Thought you were gonna come three times,” she says softly as he steps off the bed, sore cock heavy between his legs. His knees tremble.

“Open,” he coos, slipping his fingers in her mouth, and she sucks away the remnants of his orgasm. He smooths out her brow with his free hand, brushing away a bead of sweat that sunk from her hairline.

“Who said I’m done with you? No, I’m gonna go shower, and you’re going to stay there with my cum on your tummy and think about what you’ve done.”

He kisses her nose, just like he does every morning after loving on her. It’s a sweet gesture, one that doesn’t match his demeanor. He leaves her there, like he said he would, tied up as he moves to the bathroom, shoulders pushed back, self-assured and composed. Harry steps into the steaming shower, washing away the sweat from his skin.

Y/N whimpers in the next room. She has given up on tugging at the silk scarves; instead, she’s trying to ignore the insatiable throbbing between her legs, her arousal slipping out onto her thighs, like a greedy slut. His words ring in her ears, and it makes the arousal worsen.

She rubs her thighs together to alleviate some pressure, but it’s little use. Perhaps, if she tests him just a little more, he’ll throw away all willpower and ravish her until the early morning hours, but her resolve weakens with every passing minute. She wanted to tease him a bit, maybe get him a little mad, so he would put her in her place. She wanted him to fuck her to oblivion, until she can’t keep her eyes open.

This is a different kind of punishment, one she’s never even considered. In her fantasies, she’s tied up and vulnerable, but he lavishes her with touch until she’s overstimulated, drunk on him, his scent, his touch, his voice.

This is a different kind of punishment, a true punishment in her eyes. The teasing, lingering touches is enough to make her burst, and to have him there but just beyond her reach is near painful.

His cum has nearly dried on her belly, and she wishes he came inside her, stuffed full of his warmth; at least, then, she wouldn’t be so cold, so exposed.

She perks when he steps out of the bathroom, and he wastes no time straddling her hips, his cock twitching against her tummy. The weight of his body on hers is suffocating, her overstimulated senses taking him in, his warmth, his touch, his scent. She can feel every ridge of his body, every drop of water that slips from his clean skin, everything.

It’s almost too much all at once.

“Color?”

She blinks.

“Daddy, please,” she whispers, “want you to fill me up. ‘M such a greedy cock slut. I won’t even come, promise—”

“Y/N, I need you to tell me what color,” he says.

He doesn’t usually use her name when they’re this far into the fantasy, but it seems she needs it now.

“Green,” she breathes out. “Green, green, you feel so good, H. ‘M sorry I touched myself; I just couldn’t help it. Wanna make you feel good, please.”

“I wanna believe you, baby.” He cups her cheek, cold water dripping from his hair and melting into her skin. He takes her in, relishing in the sight of her craving, trembling, and begging for his touch. He likes seeing her on edge like this, dangerously close to teetering off into oblivion.

“But I don’t think it’s really sunk in yet.”

He traces the head of his red cock along the seams of her panties, like he did earlier, but this time, he tugs her underwear aside, mouth watering at the sight of her pretty, puffy pussy, surely sore from the spanking earlier. He spits on her, and he watches as it slips down into her most intimate fold. She’s so responsive to the slightest touch. He spreads her open, lips parted to reveal her wanton pussy. He tugs back the hood of her button, hard and throbbing.

He slaps his cock against her clit, the skin tacky with his spit. The slight, sudden touch is electrifying, and it makes his cock twitch, hungry for more. He can see her tighten up, and her hips jolt. Shivers trail from her spine to the tips of her peaked nipples. He thumps the head of his cock on her clit quickly, concurrent with every keen thrust of her hips, spitting in her every so often, leaving her wet and swollen and filthy, just like she is.

“Thank you,” she whimpers. “Feels so good, daddy.”

He teases the head of his cock just past her lips and nestles himself inside her finally, her warmth swallowing him easily. His eyes flutter closed, savoring what he so desperately needed.

She breathes out sharply when he stops with just the head inside her. This teasing is almost becoming too much.

“More,” she whimpers, “Please?”

He looks at her with fire in his eyes.

“No, you don’t tell me what to do. Besides, I don’t think you deserve my cock.”

She could almost cry. He’s so close, but he won’t go any further, just teasing her with what could have been. She tries to pull him in deeper, her walls tightening around his head. It makes his toes curl, burning pleasure forming in his belly. She tries to pull him in, aching for just a little more. He holds her hips down to keep her from moving.

“Please, I’ve been good. I said I was sorry for making myself come. I’ll never do it again, promise. Please, I just wanna feel you, daddy. That’s all I wanted today.”

“This isn’t about you anymore, babylove. You’re just daddy’s little fucktoy, my little cock slut.” He thrusts slightly, the tender head dragging along her tight opening, never pushing further. “And right now, I wanna hear you cry for my cock.”

Her feet trail up his legs, knees hooked at his hips, frantically trying to pull him in entirely. She tried to be good; she asked him nicely to just fuck her already. At this point, she doesn’t even want to come. She just wants to feel him, to alleviate at least some of the pressure throbbing between her legs. It’s humiliating because she’s near tears, desperate for his cock.

He came not even fifteen minutes ago, and he’s still sensitive. He pulls back until the head is nestled just past her entrance, muscles tight around the tip. He jerks off the base of his cock for more stimulation. A part of the pleasure comes from watching her squirm; she’s so desperate as she yanks at her restraints, hips thrusting and pussy clenching to pull him in deeper. It’s such an odd sensation, her entrance being fairly sensitive, but it’s not enough to stimulate her.

It’s never enough.

“Maybe you’ll come just by the feeling of my cum inside you.”

She honestly might.

The skin of his cock drags back and forth along her sensitive walls as he jerks himself off inside her.

“I bet you will,” he grins. “Just remember, if you come, I will not touch you for a week. Be very careful, Y/N.”

She wiggles pitifully, her arousal dripping down his shaft, and he uses it as lubricant.

“I bet your poor little clit is throbbing,” he teases. “‘M so sorry, babylove.”

He’s not.

There’s a wicked smile that splits his face.

He pulls out suddenly, making her gasp, and thumps his cock some more on her pussy, landing a particularly rough blow to the sensitive part of her exposed clit, puffy with arousal, the hood stretched back.

“Please, daddy,” she whimpers, “more. I’ve been good. I won’t do it again.”

He gives her some more, dragging himself along her fold in languid motions, circling around her clit before he thumps his cock on her pretty little button. She squeaks.

He stuffs himself inside again, just like before with only the head inside her. She groans, tightening up. It’s as if her body has a mind of its own, clenched and frenzied for any type of stimulation. She squeezes him so tightly, and she fights against his hold on her hips.

He comes shortly after, his body curling into itself like it usually does when he has a particularly strong orgasm, back arching with every wave.

Y/N moans when his cum fills her, reaching deep inside her, and her walls clench with need. It’s barely anything, but it’s still more than what he was giving to her before, and she could honestly come from that little bit alone. She’s trying to regain her composure, cunt still throbbing. He kisses her face, like he usually does after he comes, a gentle reminder that he’s still her Harry. He massages her waist, lingering down to her hips. They bask in each others’ warmth, trying to find the energy to move.

That’s normal for him, sweet and mushy and loving.

What she doesn’t expect is him tightening his hold on her hips and thrusting himself fully inside her, his cock still weeping out remnants of his orgasm.

She would scream if she could, but the breath is knocked from her lungs, choked moans passing through clenched teeth. Animalistic and brutal, Harry sets a quick pace, her entire body moving with the power behind his thrusts. Her mind is blank, and her body hums, pleasurable vibrations coursing through her body to every single nerve. She forgets that she isn’t allowed to come, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about the consequences just yet. Finally, she can taste the bittersweet euphoria, making her world dizzy as he fills her again and again. She could almost cry with utter relief.

Yes, yes, this is what she wanted—no, needed—and it’s even better than she dreamt. Her sopping pussy takes him easily, reaching the neediest part of her. She spreads herself further, angling her knees to her chest so he can pound himself deeper inside, cream dripping onto the sheets. Her legs are sticky with their shared arousal.

Harry’s face is flushed, brows furrowed as he loses himself in the feel of her. It’s been almost as torturous for him as it has for her; he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this frantic, never has he felt so desperate to plunge himself into her depths, never has he been so entranced, so sensitive to any touch. His head tips back, features twisted, chest bared, and teeth gritted. His breaths are weak, faltering and shallow. He groans as she tightens around him. Sweat drips down his chest.

“H? Color?”

It takes a moment to pull him back.

“Green, baby,” he says, smiling ever so slightly.

He’s never felt this before, this vulnerable yet powerful, on the verge of pleasure and pain, dancing along a tightrope threatening to snap at any second, such a thrill. He feels light headed, high off of her. He wants to feel her, embrace her, love her.

He rips at the knots around her wrists, fingers trembling, but they won’t budge, and he loses his balance, instead wrapping his arms around her arched back. He nestles his nose in her neck, pulling their chests tight together. She smells of salt and sin and sex, and he can’t control himself.

“So fucking good.”

He presses himself deeper, the head of his sensitive cock nudging the inmost parts of her. He fucks her easily with his cum spilling out with every hard thrust, leaving their connected bodies sticky. He can’t pull out much without his cock weeping with overstimulation, but he can’t stop, the pleasure all too addicting.

“Jus’ one more, lovie,” he whispers. “So close. Don’t you dare come.” He grits his teeth, rubbing at her swollen clit, subtly and just to make it throb, before his hands rest on her lower belly, thumbs connecting just below the button. He fucks into her harder, the bed frame shaking and smacking into the wall.

That’s when realization hits her.

She’s close.

She’s so close, one well placed thrust, one harsh stroke to her clit will push her over the edge.

But she has to hold it off.

His words ring in her ears in time with her racing heart, his threat of no intimacy sobering her. If she thought before was punishment, having to see him pleasure himself without being able to touch him, this is hell. Her orgasm burns painfully in her belly. It tastes so sweet. She clings to the silk restraints. She doesn’t want to give in, but it would feel so good; it would be a high that would leave her lightheaded for hours afterward, and shockwaves of pleasure tightening her muscles as a constant reminder.

She sobs, on the brink of breaking. Her hands tingle, drained of blood. She’s trying to relax, to breathe through the waves of euphoria that crash over her, and it works for a second, but with that, she opens up more, taking him deeper and more easily. That’s when the pleasure would shatter the calm in harsh waves. She closes her eyes, a drawn hum seeping from her chest. He grabs the back of her neck, using it as leverage as he fucks himself deeper into her, and she cries out.

“Look at me,” he demands. She does, barely, her teary eyes glimmering. He smiles, and she feels warm. “There’s my pretty girl. I’m almost there, just a little bit more. Doing so well for me babylove. Don’t come.”

“Please,” she moans, peering through her lashes. “Come for me, daddy.”

She lights a fire in his veins, sending a rippling feeling of ecstasy through his spine. His eyes roll back as he comes once again, his prick pulsating as he empties himself deep inside for a third and final time. Satiated, he grinds his hips against her, wanting to be as close to her as possible. She’s throbbing around him, legs trembling at his sides. She sighs, most likely out of relief but perhaps also out of frustration. As he nestles himself deeper, her lips tremble, features pinching as she tries to hold off an orgasm, clenching so tightly that his softening cock slips out of her. She moans.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing his lips sweetly to her sticky forehead. “You did so well for me, babylove. So proud of you.” Then again to her cheek. He traces up the backs of her thighs, hooking her legs around his waist.

“What did we learn?”

“Don’t touch yourself unless daddy says so,” she whispers, her voice dry. He nods appreciatively, eyes taking in her trembling form, and leans back.

Her thighs twitch occasionally at his sides, and he wants to bite them, skin surely sensitive to the slightest of touches. Sweat and cum and saliva paint her flesh, but the absolute masterpiece is her ruined pussy, swollen and wet and divine. He thumbs at her, gently guiding her lips apart to expose her pink inside, quivering with an insatiable need. He wants to lick up the cum that slips out of her, but she’s been through enough, the aftershocks of her stolen orgasms still visibly lingering in her sore body.

Another time, perhaps.

“That’s right, babylove. I think you finally learned your lesson.”

—

#enjoy nasties #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #ellie writes #ellie writes smut #ellie writes filth #never knew i would have to make a tag like that but #here we are #gif not mine #credit to owner

[slaughtermehole]

Bonten Mikey trapping you with a baby

It's been a week since you guys had fought and you have left. Mikey was losing himself once again. He wanted to kill you and kiss you. He been blowing up your phone with threats ever since you left him.

"Call me back this is your last warning y/n".

You stayed at a friend's house and you had noticed you forgot something at the house you and mikey had shared. You had forgot your laptop. You were hesitant to go get it knowing the chances of running into mikey. However, all your work files was on that laptop. You ran to your car and drove home. You had finally arrived and as you were putting the key in you looked behind your shoulder to make sure no one was there watching you. The door had opened and you went upstairs into your room to see your laptop laying on the bed

"Whew it's still here.. lemme just find the cord and we'll be outta here for goo-"

"Y/n."

You had froze. You felt cold. Your hands began to shake and your breath began to shorten. You knew exactly whose voice you heard. It was mikey.

His gun was pointing you. His eyes were so cold. He was furious and you could tell.

"You're not going anywhere y/n"

You began to tear up with the laptop still in your hand. His gun was still pointed directly at you.

"Mikey can you put the gun down at least? You're (sniffle)scaring me" you said while crying

He was silent. He didn't respond. He just stared at you while still keeping the gun pointed at you. He wanted answers. Why did you leave? You treated him so good. You should have known there would be no escape. The only escape there is, is death. You were his. Only his. The thought of you leaving him and moving on keeps him awake at night.

"MIKEY GOTDAMN" you yell. You were sick of the silence.

"I JUST WANT TO MOVE ON. I DONT WANNA DEAL WITH YOU ANYMORE BECAUSE YOU ARENT THE SAME MIKEY I USE TO KNO-"

Mikey interrupted you with a loud bang coming from the gun. He had shot the wall a inch next to you.

"Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP Y/N"

He was starting to lose control of his emotions and you could tell by the way his eyes widened.

"I LOST EVERYONE WHO WERE CLOSE TO ME AND ILL BE DAMNED IF I LOOSE YOU. IF I HAVE KILL US BOTH I WILL."

You stood there crying. He wasnt the same. You wanted the old mikey back. His gun was still in his hand. You knew if you didn't do something now somebody was going to end up dead

You walked over to him. Cradled his face. You could see tears forming in his eyes.

You kissed him.

Your intention was to disarm him and bring him back to a calmer state because he was beginning to loose himself. You are aware you are his peace. As you was kissing him, he dropped his gun and begin to lift your shirt. He had pushed you against the wall still kissing you.

Your intention was to disarm him but as the kiss got deeper you realized you wanted this as bad as he did. Mikey finally got his hands on you. He finally got what he wanted, you.

Your shirt was off now exposing your breast. As he stared upon you, still fully clothed. You grabbed his dick and unzipped his pants now exposing his hard cock. You placed his dick in between your tits giving him a titfuck while he was still standing.

"I love your beautiful tits y/n I'm going to bust right in between them."

You spat on his dick while you massaged his dick in-between your tits going as fast as you could. He moaned your name beautifully. His breaths were getting heavy and you could tell he was about to cum

"Cmon mikey.. bust in between my tits baby. I'm all yours look at them mikey. Look at them."

As you continued to glide your tits up and down his dick he busted. You used your finger to lick the cum off your boobs. Yet, he was far from done. He went a whole week without seeing you. He wants to cherish this moment.

He took off his shirt and whispered in your ear

"you're having all my babies tonight. Gonna get you so full. I want you pregnant."

You didn't say anything. You were so intoxicated with the sex he was going to supply but little did you know Mikey was dead serious.

He began to kneel to your pussy licking it and eating it whole. He sucked your clit and He gave himself a hand job while he ate your pussy. Boy was so horny. You moaned as loud as you could.

"I love hearing you fucking scream"

You came right on his mouth. He slurped you so well. He missed your pussy.

"Did you fuck anyone else? Did you give anyone else my pussy y/n"

" No! No sir! I- I promise mikey"

"I'll kill you if you did"

You were scared of him. You stared into his eyes nervously. He then began to flip you over in doggy style position. Your pussy was beyond wet and he moaned while he massaged the tip in.

"Mikey...your dick feel so good"

He took his tip out. You were so tight and your pussy wasn't opening up for him he stuck his fingers in surprising you,

"You need to open up for me. I want your pussy to take me so you can cum.

He slid his dick back in and this time he managed to get it in all the way. You moaned like crazy and so did he. Your ass clapped onto him. He smacked it as hard as he could

"This your punishment for leaving. *smack* you're never leaving Me and I mean never. *smack* you're forever glued to me *smack* we belong together *smack*"

You screamed out his name crying from the pain and pleasure. He was getting faster and faster.

"OH Y/N ITS SO DAMN TIGHT. IM CUMMING INSIDE YOU"

You began to see white. Your vision blurred. You were fucked outta your mind. You began to feel mikey hot warm seed leaking into you. He kept his cock inside until he was done emptying himself. Thats a week worth of cum. Best believe your pussy was full.

He then pulled out kissing your neck.

"Mm-missed you so fucking much. I can tell you're tired y/n get some rest and I'll clean you up"

Boy was he a good liar. He was waiting til you fell asleep so he can sneak into the bathroom cabinet to grab your plan b.

You drifted off and that's exactly what he did. He had called sanzu while preparing his shower.

"She's home. Pick me up and Make sure you change the locks and lock her inside the house. She's not going anywhere. If she needs anything she will have to go through u first"

He hung up the phone and showered. His mission was complete. You were stuck with him forever. He knew deep down he got you pregnant and it made him happy.

He left the house leaving you in bed. You went searching for your plan b and noticed it wasn't there and as you were trying to walk out the house you noticed the doors were locked from Outside. He also had took your phone.

3 weeks later, you complained to sanzu about your morning sicknesses and asked if he could get you a test from the store. Turns out you're pregnant. As you looked at the test you began to form tears in your eyes because you realized what mikey was up to all along

Mission accomplished. He will never let you leave.

#tokyo revengers #toman x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers x reader #anime memes #anime / manga #mikey x reader #toman mikey #mikey sano #mikey smut #mikey headcanon #anime smut #tomansmut #bonten #bonten mikey #anime #mikey x y/n #mikey x you #toman headcanons

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

Stark Styled Honeymoon

Peter Parker x Reader

Peter has a sensory overload during sex

Warnings⚠️: smut, CNC, whatever that sleeping kink is that starts with a S that I can’t remember how to spell and not about to look up

»»——⍟——««A/n: I feel like the end was kinda suckish so sorry about that. Totally wrote this at like 2am though and really wanted to finish it so that could be why-

Masterlist

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ Requests open　 ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

There are many pros and cons to living in the Avengers compound. Pro? I mean, it's the Avengers compound. You're an Avenger. High tech technology and basically any item you ever need. Con? You don't really get to leave. You do for missions and stuff, but you're not Clint Barton. You don't have the luxury to come and go as you please. Why? Steve did his little speech and made points of why everyone should be around as much as possible just in case of a mission.

So that's how you ended up where you are now. You and Peter met when you both joined the team when you were 16. You started dating when you were 17, and he proposed at 18. Everything went perfectly. You had a beautiful wedding, and you couldn't be happier. But a honeymoon? Yeah, that was off the table.

The wedding was one thing but gone for a week in possibly another country ain't happening. Steve and Tony made that very clear. Apparently, you and Peter are "assets" and "needed on the team," so they got you to stay. However, Tony offered an option. Tony said that he'd build a room attached to the compound and have it set up with his BARF technology, and it would be just like you guys were on an actual honeymoon. Of course, you agreed.

When it's all done, you and Peter are excited to see it. You decided on a Hawaiian-type theme, and you can't lie Tony did a great job. "So, a week, right? After that, this will all shut down," Tony says as you walk inside.

"Yeah. Thanks, Mr. Stark," Peter smiles.

"if you guys need to get in contact or us with you, FRIDAY is programmed in this tablet. It'll alert you guys," Tony says, handing you the tablet and walking to stand at the door.

"Thanks, Stark," you smile.

He nods. "Ok. I'll leave you lovebirds alone. Have a good week." He turns to leave, putting a hand on the door to close it. "Don't get her pregnant yet, Parker." And then he walks out.

You laugh and look at Peter, red and eyes wide. Like a dear in headlights. Even after all this time, he still gets as flustered as ever. "Come on, babe. Let's get settled," you say, snapping him out of his head.

About two days later, you wake first before Peter. The sun shines brightly into your room, and the window shows the outside to be ocean and trees in front of it, making a beautiful morning view. You turn your head, looking at Peter. His peaceful sleeping form. His head isn't facing you, but you see his messy hair and the slow rising and falling of his chest as he steadily breathes.

His chest is exposed, the blankets pushed down and bunching around his waist. You examine his body. Your eyes look over his fluffy hair, down to his chest, then looking at his blanket-covered bottom half. You smirk at the sight of a tent among the covers, morning wood. Peter is prone to morning wood. He’s usually taking in so much information from his senses. They're quietest when he sleeps, meaning he gets extra relaxed. Hello, morning wood. At this point, it's not even morning wood anymore because of how much it happens. Naps included. Sometimes he dozes off somewhere randomly and gets a halfty.

You scoot closer to him, pushing yourself up and hovering over him. His senses were familiar with you a long while ago, so they knew you weren't a threat and didn't wake him up. You moved your hand between both your bodies, stroking his cock a few times, earning a quiet grunt as Peter's brows frown slightly and he shifts.

This' something you and him tried in the previous days, seeing how far one of you could get before the other woke up. Well, he tried it, but now it's your turn. You line his cock up with your pussy, sliding down on him. His mouth opens as he takes in a slow breath, his hands twitching and moving toward you.

You grind your hips, putting a gentle hand on his chest for leverage. Because of his senses and being extra sensitive, you learned that getting him to cum was always easy the first time. He always cums quickly the first time but can go more after.

You feel his cock brush against your g-spot, making you throw your head back and moan. “You feel so good baby,” you moan, speeding up your hip movement.

Peter wakes with a moan. His cock twitching and throbbing, seconds away from cumming. Peter tries to open his eyes, but the sunlight is too much for his sense and he squeezes them shut again, letting out a whimper.

He feels it when it starts happening. His senses are slipping from his control and sending him into an overload. You have no idea as you continue to grind on him, feeling his cock twitch as you flutter around him. “Y-y/n, s-slow down for a sec- please.” His voice is shaking, combined with a moan from pleasure, but also feeling the pain.

You do, opening your eyes and looking down at him. “You close? I know you are. You always get so close so quick. Cum, Pete,” you say breathlessly. He bites his lip, trying to concentrate and get his bearings, but everything is happening quickly. Too quickly.

He felt the whole room. He felt the intense sun and your body heat. He hears your quick breathing, heart rate, everything. It’s all so much. But he can’t get the word out to say it, his throat feels dry and his body is too heavy to try to move.

You speed up again, feeling yourself get close, his cock hitting perfect spots and making your eyes roll back. You cum, your cunt squeezing his cock in a vice grip. When you cum, his mouth and eyes open from both pleasure, surprise, and a sting of pain from the sudden brightness.

Peter lets out a scream that sounds close to a moan, enough for you not to catch it as suspicious, only thinking he’s cumming. His body acts as if it is, tensing up and twitching. But he starts whimpering, you feel him shaking, plus the fact you don’t feel his cum inside you, it all makes you open your eyes and look at him, quickly realizing what happened.

You and Peter’s regular room is custom made special for him. The windows are tinted and made not to let a lot of sunlight in during the mornings when it’s at its brightest, the walls are a type of reverse soundproofed. You can’t hear anything outside them, but Peter can hear things like you would, only things super loud. The only thing that’s close to the same is the bedsheets. You brought silk soft sheets, so they’re gentle against his skin. But that hardly matters at the moment.

“Peter? Hey, hey, it’s ok. Deep breaths, ok? Deep breaths,” you say, moving your hips to try to lift yourself off him, earning and painful cry. Peter starts trying to move, to curl up into himself, but it only moves you and adds more stimulation to his cock, in no way helping. “You have to stop thrashing around, Pete. Come on, baby stay with me.”

You carefully lean your body down, your chest pressed against him as you bring both your hands to his face. You lean your forehead on his, putting both your hands over his ears. “You have to work with me, Peter. Don’t open your eyes. Don’t let the light in, it’s ok. Focus, ok? I can’t move, so you have to focus on a sound, any sound, and calm your breathing ok?” you urge him.

He shakes his head, tears starting to stream from his eyes. “I-I can’t. S’to much I can’t. Hurts. It- I can’t,” he sobs.

“Yes, you can. Come on, we’ve done this before. You got this, take everything little by little, don’t let it control you. Break it all down and get a grip on the information.” You don’t move your hands from his ears, but you use your thumbs to gently massage around the area they reach.

Peter continues to whimper, but they slowly get quieter. He moves his shaky arms up to wrap around you, moving as much as he can and tucking his head in your neck, letting out quiet sobs. You take your hand from his ears and put them in his hair, moving them slowly around his hair.

Over time, he begins taking in deep breaths, doing that for a few minutes before his body relaxes. “Hey,” you whisper.

“I’m ok,” he quietly mumbles. You go to move, but he holds you down. “N-not yet. Give me a minute. Just stay like this,” he says into your neck.

“I’m so sorry. I guess we didn’t think about having this room accommodate your sense like our regular room,” you say, still moving your fingers through his hair. He hums, focusing on his breathing and keeping his eyes closed, not ready to take in the sunlight yet.

Masterlist

Ahem: @novaresque

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker oneshot #peter parker smut #peter parker comfort #peter parker fluff #peter parker x fem #peter parker x fem!reader #mcu smut #husband!peter parker #peter parker imagine

[bratz-kitten]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS PT. 7

gemini and pisces placements are similar in the sense that geminis are able to see things from all perspectives, while pisces are able to empathise with people who have all sorts of different perspectives. pisces placements... be careful with over-empathising with the people who hurt you to the point where you’re understanding why they did it and you start excusing their actions. gemini placements... be careful with seeking the multi-layers and million different perspectives in everything and everyone to the point where you’re driving your own mind insane and you don’t know what your opinion is anymore because you hyper-analyse so much. too much of a good ability becomes a curse.

people with venus-mars aspects have a talent for making people who hate them fall in love with them 💋

moon in the 11th house natives tend to attract friends who get into scandals. moon in the 10th house natives tend to be the ones who get into said scandals. it’s a PERFECT FRIENDSHIP

capricorn placements have a talent for knowing how to make things last. they want to prolong the enjoyment they get out of something for as long as possible, which is why their hobbies, friendships and relationships tend to last a lifetime... hedonistic sluts

since both the 7th house and the 11th house rule fandoms, celebrities with a 7th house or 11th house neptune can attract fans who view them as angels who can’t do nothing wrong — because of this, those celebrities rarely take accountability for their mistakes, since people keep pushing the “but they’re perfect :(“ light on them

pluto conjunct ascendant natives always come off as very serious during first impressions, no matter how approachable and inviting they strive to appear.

sun and moon in the 10th house people may feel as if they’re always exposed to the public eye, they can’t get away with keeping things secretive. others always notice whatever they want kept on the low. this can be especially frustrating if they notice that others aren’t exposed to the same kind of scrutiny that they are for simply existing

lilith in pisces bitches have a natural talent for appearing like angels even in situations where they are 100% guilty. it’s very easy for them to put on their vulnerable, lost puppy act lmfao, which triggers others’ protective instincts. they may be able to cry on cue when people call them out on their bullshit, making them feel like THEY’re the shitty ones for confronting the lilith native... it’s insane

lilith in the 12th house natives may feel as though the themes of lilith are trapped in their psyche, at the core of who they are and those themes become unavoidable for them — they’re always there, lurking in the shadows, becoming the center of their nightmares

people with mercury in the 1st house can feel veryyy threatened and defensive when someone possesses knowledge in an area that they don’t, it’s like it hits them right on their biggest fears. they often either try to “one-up” the other person in an attempt to heal their broken ego or shut down altogether in insecurity. it’s imperative that they work on developing a strong sense of self-worth because they can be extremely prone to comparing their mental skills to those of other people.

people with personal planets in the 12th house may feel as though a lot of their artistic drive is stifled by their lack of energy. like... in the mental realm there’s a lot going on and it’s incredible, but then you pick up a pen to actualize your visions and you feel exhaustion immediately overtaking you. it can feel like there’s a lot to your psyche that feels inaccessible to you not because you don’t want to explore it, but because you have yet to restore the energy to dive deep into it. this can be especially noticeable if there’s absolutely no 5th house energy in the chart

people with jupiter in an earth sign love being surrounded by greeneries in their home; they may take a lot of enjoyment out of taking care of plants, gardening, cooking and stuff of the sort. it makes them feel more grounded, independent, and even healed. they also LOVE scents that connect them to nature like the scent of grass and the ocean.

air mercuries can be very beware of strangers, they can feel offended when their friends make them socialize with someone they don’t know and it can take a hot while before they trust the person enough to lower their defences a bit. they need to know it’s safe before expressing their usual sexy eccentric selves in front of someone new. on the other hand, aries placements can also hate being introduced to new people through their friends but it’s mostly because they’re very territorial over them, and can’t stand the thought that this new person can hurt their friendship in any possible way

meanwhile, it’s probably an earth or leo/sagittarius mercury introducing new friends to the group. they’re so fucking good with people and it shows in how they make people feel welcomed so easily, it’s like they “take” the person in and adopt them into the group. they can’t stand seeing someone being treated like an outcast because they know how it sucks to feel rejected, so they’ll try their best to make you feel included

while on the subject of people who hate seeing others be treated like an outcast because they know how it feels like to be rejected: SCORPIO RISINGS. bro. people underestimate how chill they can actually be. if they see you being left out, they’ll approach you with no fucks given and do anything in their power to make you feel comfortable. they do so well in group settings.

and while on the subject of scorpio risings... i have a scorpio rising friend and he goes thru it on the daily. he often complains that people are always suspicious of him and that they seem repulsed by him, strangers on the street will stay tf away from him. and it’s so heartbreaking because his personality is so friendly and welcoming and it doesn’t at all match his intimidating appearance. scorpio risings have this energy that not many people can handle, others feel either really drawn to them or downright scared of them because of the “danger” element they seem to carry in them

i know two people who are both scorpio suns and libra moons and they look the exact same, even though they have different risings. brown, deep-set eyes, coarse dark hair, naturally tanner skin tone — and they have the same style as well, using lots of band t-shirts and dark clothing. scorpio energy is always so noticeable wherever it is i swear, it’s like it takes over the rest of the chart

gemini moons are what yall claim gemini venuses to be. like, seriously... have you ever met someone with a gemini venus? they don’t need constant stimulation or else they’ll get bored and cheat. not in the slightest; actually, they’re often incredibly loyal and crave longterm, committed relationships. if anything, they need stimulation outside of their relationship in the form of a good, exciting career and hobbies so that they don’t get too addicted to their partner and to constantly analysing every aspect of their relationship. gemini moons however, tend to have multiple partners throughout life and they often feat deep commitment. they can be huge players imo, IT’S THEM YOU SHOULD BE WORRIED ABOUT!

sagittarius placements are so... tactile? like, they love to touch things. when they go to stores and stuff, they’ll start holding everything that catches their attention— it’s like they can only decide if they want to buy something after thouroughly exploring how it feels, the texture and the energy that the object gives them through touch. and they talk so much with their hands. it makes me so anxious like bitch you aren’t selena gomez, i promise you that you CAN keep your hands to yourself

taurus placements are so weird to me, i can’t understand them. it’s like they’re afraid of exploring their own depths, which in turn makes me unable to explore them. okay, how do i put this... it’s like they have this preset idea of who they are and after deciding so, they’re unwilling to let go of it. “i’m the stable friend who’s here for everyone even when i can barely take care of my own self” and then that’s who they are: the people who are a steady rock in the lives of others, taking care of everyone. and then they refuse to change even after getting hurt. and then, it’s like... well, you can’t just be that. you are a human who contains multitudes, but i don’t think you give yourself enough credit on how layered you are. that fear of changeability, that need to be the one stable thing in a world full of unpredictability will only damage you in the end, because you won’t get to fully experience life’s greatest pleasure: knowing yourself. becoming your own best friend, exploring every layer that there is to your being. i think you deny yourself of that experience because you fear that, with self-learning comes self-growth which leads to transformation. and you fear transformation because you don’t want to change for the worst. but like... transformation is necessary and with that comes adaptability + flexibility, which are things you could greatly benefit from.

scorpio venuses can be so pessimistic— and when they’re in a dark mindset, it’s so difficult to pull them out of it. it’s so difficult to get them to see the good in difficult situations, and to help them believe that it gets better. but even if you don’t believe me, i’ll keep telling you; it does get better. you’ll get through this.

jupiter in the 4th house is an indicator of food having been an amazing part of your childhood; there might’ve been a lot of feasts and you could’ve had a parent who loved to cook. being well fed might be a huge concern for you now; you might get sick easily when you’re eating fast food and non-traditional plates.

mercury square uranus is an extremely difficult aspect to have because, in your earlier years, you might’ve felt dumb or like there was something wrong with your intelligence because you might’ve found school difficult due to it’s structured nature that didn’t fit with the way you like to learn things— you need to learn in an interactive way that piques your interest. your anxiety and any traumatic experienced that you faced could’ve heavily impacted your school performance. you might’ve had an ease with learning but then, when it came to doing the written tests, you couldn’t perform to the best of your abilities. either way, school might’ve been a source of a lot of stress and difficulty.

mercury square pluto can have some weird manifestation where, like... you suspect things but you always suspect the wrong things. i’ve met a few people with this aspect and all of them were extremely suspicious of the most random things who were literally normal and innocent. this aspect can cause a lot of chaos to one’s interpersonal relationships because you might find yourself suspecting your loved ones in the weirdest circumstances due to your trust issues, which in return causes them to lose trust in you + the want to confide in you because you keep questioning everything they’re up to WHEN THEY’RE NOT UP TO ANYTHING IN THE FIRST PLACE. probably the most frustrating thing that can happen with this aspect is when you always suspect what you shouldn’t, but then, when sketchy things are actually happening that should be questioned, you don’t bat an eye to it. omfg it drives me insane

moon conjunct the ascendant can make someone have a very delicate appearance that gives others the impression that they need to handle you like fine china or else you might break. my mother has this at a very tight orb and whenever i bring people over, their first impression of her is always “she looks so frail”. the native might be extremely sensitive to every minor inconvenience which brings a lot of frustration to them, a feeling that they can’t control their reactions and inner turmoil. it can also suck when you don’t want to be depicted as the victim but then that’s the way everyone perceives you. the native might have very expressive and shiny eyes, and they can cry easily. it’s very difficult for them to hide their emotions.

your jupiter sign can signify where you feel an overflow of energy. jupiter in cancer may feel like you have an overflow of nurturing and protective energy towards your loved ones, with a lot of intuition and need for introspection. jupiter in leo can make you feel like you a talent for self-expression and dealing with others, being overly dramatic and prideful at times, and with a huge drive to have fun. jupiter in virgo can feel an overflow of perceptive qualities, with a huge amount of self-awareness and also awareness of your surroundings, ability to constantly analyse and a constant strive for perfection (which btw is impossible since perfection is unattainable and you’re a human being who makes mistakes and that’s completely fine. stop finding flaws where there aren’t none).

#astrology #capricorn #aries #libra #aquarius #taurus #sagittarius #virgo #leo #gemini #scorpio #cancer #pisces #venus-mars #moon in the 10th house #moon in the 11th house #neptune in the 7th house #neptune in the 11th house #pluto conjunct ascendant #moon conjunct ascendant #sun in the 10th house #lilith in pisces #lilith in the 12th house #mercury in the 1st house #jupiter in taurus #jupiter in capricorn #jupiter in virgo #scorpio rising #gemini venus #jupiter in the 4th house

[midgardianweasley]

hiii i love your fics so much omg! anyway, i have a request that i've been daydreaming about that haha: nat and r get into a really big fight about smth (anything but cheating pls my heart won't be able to take that) and r kind of shuts down, and wanda & carol become super protective of her and follow her everywhere making sure she's ok. (and they're also glaring at nat any chance they get) but then nat comes into r's room one night and apologizes and they make up and snuggle and its soft hours

thank you so much! and of course lovely! here you go<33

Priorities

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha has been missing date nights, leaving Y/N embarrassed for the final time. When confronted, an argument unfolds, but can they come back from it?

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: some swearing, some self-neglect

Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist! <3

“Another drink, miss?” The waiter in a smart, black tux asked you for the second time this evening, a part of you felt that it was out of pity as you sat alone at a table for two, and had been for the last two hours.

You were supposed to be meeting your girlfriend tonight for date night, you got all dressed up, makeup applied and hair styled perfectly, which had taken forever, only to be stood up. You wouldn’t have overly minded if this was a first occurrence, you would’ve brushed it off and rescheduled for another night. Which is what you had done, two missed date nights ago.

This was your third night of sitting alone in a crowded, candlelit restaurant as couples around you glanced over with a sympathetic gaze, which had only made you feel worse. Your girlfriend should be here. ‘Natasha should be here’, you thought. You looked up at the kind waiter, giving him a gentle smile before shaking your head.

“No, thank you. I think I'm calling it a night.” You spoke as you hurried to gather your things and get out of there as soon as possible, trying to hold back tears that you refused to let fall, not in front of all of these strangers. You hated this. You hated feeling so exposed. So vulnerable. You couldn’t help but feel anger bubble inside of you, thoughts of Natasha being the only thing currently plaguing your mind, most along the lines of; ‘What was her excuse this time?’ ‘Who is she with instead?’, but, there was one in particular that you couldn’t help but focus on.

‘She promised.’

You hadn’t realised you were crying until you were in the taxi, catching a glimpse of yourself in the rearview mirror when the driver had adjusted it slightly to see the cars behind you, in the process, you’d also caught her eyebrows raise in concern and it wasn’t long before she started conversation.

“You okay back there?”

You laughed somewhat bitterly, but it wasn’t towards her. “Nothing I can't handle.”

Your response didn’t seem to settle her worry as she turned quickly and shot you a sad smile before returning her eyes to the road.

“Boy troubles?”

“Girl.” You rubbed your face, trying to rid yourself of any tear stains that may be lingering and messing up your once really pretty makeup. Not that it really mattered at this point.

“Ah, been there.” She held up her left hand, showing you the shimmering diamond on her finger. “The wife and I have had our fair share of arguments and fallouts, some of them included a situation like this one.”

“Crying in the backseat of a taxi?”

“Crying in the backseat of a taxi.” She laughed lightly, making you smile for the first time tonight.

“It had always worked out though, we’ve never been stronger.”

“Congratulations.” You looked towards the woman “I hope I could be so lucky.” You mumbled, though still loud enough for her to hear. You were mad at Natasha, more disappointed really, but you still loved her, dangerously so. She could stand you up for another 50 dates, and you’d still be head over heels. Angry, but your love would never falter.

“I’m sure you will be. If there’s one thing I've learned over the years, it’s that things have a way of falling into place eventually.”

Pondering her words, you looked out of the car window and noticed that you were pulling up to Stark Tower. It wasn’t long before the car came to a complete stop, the woman turning round to you and beginning to speak again.

“You’ll be okay. It’s obvious you love her, okay? Speak to her. I’m sure it’ll be alright.” She looked at you with nothing but kindness in her eyes, which you did your best to return with a smile. You reached into your purse, handing her the money owed, plus a tip.

“Thank you for the help.”

“Don’t worry about it, go get her.” She winked as you got out of the car and watched her drive away, quickly taking yourself inside to avoid freezing to death as the cold wind blew harshly. Kicking your heels off, you set off with one task at hand. Talk to Nat.

__________________________

“Hey, have any of you guys seen Nat?” You addressed some members of the team who were hanging out in the Kitchen, fixing themselves a snack or just conversing with one another. The second they looked up and took in their appearance, you could’ve sworn their faces paled and saddened slightly as if they knew what had happened.

“I think I saw her head off to train a while ago, but I'm not sure if she’s still there.” Carol replied, her face morphing into one of seriousness. She knew about the missed dates, having found you one night looking completely defeated in one of your nicest dresses and heels. She, alongside Wanda, who had found you both later that night, had spent their night comforting you and reassuring you that she probably hadn’t meant it. They didn’t know what to do, they’d never seen you look so sad before, no matter how much you told them it was okay, the pang in their chest for their best friend hadn’t ceased.

You nodded, quietly thanking Carol and wandered off in search for your girlfriend.

It didn’t take long, she was still training when you’d walked into the gym, sweat practically pouring off of her. Your heart softened briefly when you saw her, her fiery red hair tied back into a ponytail with loose strands all over the place, wearing a black t-shirt, grey sweatpants and a deadpan face as she attacked the dusty punching bag with such force that you’re surprised it hasn’t flown off of the chains yet.

She hadn’t noticed you had walked in, still giving all of her focus to her punches. Maybe she just hadn’t heard you?

“Hi Nat.”

Nothing.

“Nat”

All you could hear was the furious rattling of chains, still not getting a response from the redhead. With a sigh, you decided to try another approach. You stepped closer to her, still keeping a little distance, and leaned forward to tap her shoulder, instantly grabbing her attention. She flung herself around, arm still in midair, her closed fist almost coming into contact with your face.

You don’t know what you expected when she turned around and finally acknowledged your presence, but you definitely didn’t expect to be met with a scowl.

“Seriously? in the middle of training? I could’ve hit you.” She huffed as she turned back to her previous position.

“Sorry. I just wanted to come in and talk to you.”

“About?”

You paused, expecting her to look at you again, but she didn’t.

With a small sigh, you continued. “you missed date night again. I waited for you, but you were a no show.”

“Right, yeah, date night” she muttered, seeming to be unfocused as her eyebrows furrowed and her head kept darting around the room, looking anywhere but at you. “I’ll make the next one.”

“This is the third one you’ve missed this month.” You said firmly, wanting her to understand that this can’t keep happening, of course cancellations or rearrangements were bound to happen sometimes, but she’s just not showing up and then leaving you in the dark as to knowing why.

“I told you, i’ll make the next one.” She walked over to the bench, picking up her water bottle and taking a swig of water, looking directly at you, you look back at her and she just looks so, unbothered.

“I don’t believe you, Nat. You say you’ll make it up to me and then I sit there again, hoping that you’ll be there this time, but you don’t turn up. And now I come back and you’re just training. Could it not have waited? Was that seriously more important?” You raised your voice now, all the anger and frustration you’d felt earlier coming back up to the surface.

You just wanted an explanation, or something to justify how she was acting, but she gave you nothing, not even an attempt, only adding fuel to the fire.

“Why are you getting so annoyed? You should know better than anyone that this is my job.”

“I just explained that to you! Which is more than what you’re giving me right now.”

“Okay, fine, forgive me for not making everything about you for a minute.” She spat bitterly towards you, her temper starting to go as the discussion became more heated.

“Seriously? That’s how you’re seeing this?” If you weren’t so unbelievably irritated, you would’ve laughed at her response.

“You’re being selfish. So I missed a date or two, you’re blowing this out of proportion once again, it’s infuriating.” Selfish?

You raised both your hands, as if in surrender. It was one thing to ditch you, it was another thing to then insult you for speaking up about it. With a tight lipped smile, oozing with sarcasm, you decided that you’d had enough.

“I don’t need to listen to this.”

She shrugged her shoulders, adjusting the gloves she’d just put on. “Then don’t, i’m busy anyways.”. This time, you did laugh.

“What a fucking surprise.”. And with that, you turned on your heels and walked out, hearing the echo of punches fill the room once again, every one feeling like a punch to the stomach.

Maybe these are things falling into place, just not the place you’d hoped.

________________________

You were still in bed at noon the next day, unable to bring yourself to get up and face the world. You didn’t need to worry about anything in the confinement of your bed, even more so considering it wasn’t the bed you shared with Natasha.

After speaking, well, arguing with her last night, you went straight to your shared bedroom, gathered some clothes and your essentials, and slept in your old room that you used to stay in before the two of you started dating. It felt wrong. You always spent your nights with a warm feeling of love washing over you as your girlfriend pressed kisses all over your face, tangling your limbs together in the process.

It wasn’t the same. You felt cold, a type of cold that no heating or blankets could solve. You lacked a weight on your waist, fingertips stroking the skin that was exposed due to your top riding up slightly. Instead, the only comfort you had was the small bear you’ve kept for the las year. It was one that Natasha had given you after she won it at the funfair on your third date, and you could never bring yourself to part with it, remembering how happy she looked when she handed it to you, and the butterflies you felt just from seeing her look so pleased.

The bear was a little worn and torn now, it had been ripped in a couple of places, now replaced with a little sewn on patch of material that didn’t exactly match the shade of brown, and one of the eyes had started to fall off, but you liked that it was different. The assassin had tried to offer to replace it and buy you a new one, but you’d always refuse, insistent that you would keep that bear with you for the rest of time. Even now, when the two of you weren’t speaking, you still held onto it with a death-tight grip.

A knock on the door snapped you out of your daydream.

“Y/N, open up, It’s me.” A familiar voice shouted through. Carol.

“And me!” Wanda.

You heard some muttering outside of the door, something along the lines of Carol suggesting they break the door down, immediately being told that it was unnecessary by the Sokovian. Feeling pretty against the idea of having a doorway with no door, you called out for them.

“Guys, it’s unlocked.” You were quiet, but it was clear that they had heard you as the faint talking stopped altogether and you heard them walk in and shut the door behind them with a ‘click’.

Wanda was the first to approach you, kneeling down beside the bed so that she was at eye level with you, pulling the bed covers down a little to uncover more than your forehead. Once she could see your eyes and nose, she sent you a warm smile.

“Hi sleepy. It’s noon.”

“I know.” She frowned when she heard you speak, your voice raspy from your crying through the night. She hated seeing you like this, she loved both you and Natasha, and it hurt to see you so sad because of the woman you adored.

“We should go and eat something, it’ll help.”

“‘M not hungry.” You pressed your head further into the pillow, the last thing you wanted to do was eat, your stomach already feeling like it was twisting with every minute that passed.

“C’mon, i’ll make you your favourite.” the blonde winked, leaning against your wardrobe.

“Your special pancakes?”

“With extra whipped cream.” She sang, playfully trying to encourage you to leave the bed. You had to hand it to her, she knew you too well.

WIth a brief look between the two, you rubbed your eyes and threw the covers off dramatically, sighing and ensuring that they knew you didn’t approve of this. They knew you were joking, even if you weren’t, all they cared about was making sure you were okay, knowing that when you felt like this, being left alone allows you to neglect yourself and get really low. They don’t mind if you dislike them for a little while, as long as you are looked after.

“There we go! Well done.” Wanda stroked your back and led you towards the door where Carol held it open for you.

“No breaking it down behind my back.” You shot towards her, slightly amused at the guilty look on her face as she realised you’d heard her quarrel beforehand. Shaking her head, she nudged you out of the door, and the three of you made your way into the kitchen.

_______________________

Carol had stuck to her promise of preparing a sweet treat for you, a stack of fluffy pancakes sat in front of you, topped with whipped cream and two cherries on top. You ate slow, still a little cautious of how stable your stomach felt. You could see your two friends talk with one another, not wanting to stare and make you uncomfortable, but occasionally looking over silently to check in on you.

You were feeling pretty content as you sat at the counter, munching away with the two avengers for company. It was only when you heard a voice that you could recognise anywhere.

“Hi guys.”

Not daring to look up, you ket your eyes focused on the food in front of you, hoping that if you just stay quiet, you’ll be invisible to the human eye.

“Hey Nat.”

“Hi.”

Wanda and Carol replied, wary of any interaction between the pair of you that could unfold into something neither of you wanted or that would lead to any regrets.

You lifted your head slightly, able to see the daggers Carol was throwing at Nat, not impressed with her being in the room. You both had always been quite close, often talking about life before becoming superheroes that protect the planet, in her case, planets. In the process, she’d found herself having a soft spot for you, wanting to protect you from anything that could bring you harm. Which you were grateful for, but her glaring was terrifying sometimes, you were more grateful for the fact that her powers weren’t in her eyes, otherwise you would’ve definitely become single five minutes ago.

You could see Natasha out of the corner of your eye, she was filling up the bottle she used for when she was training, her eyes weren’t on what she was doing, instead, she was trying to subtly look up at you through the hood of her eyes. You subconsciously took the opportunity to really take in her appearance.

Her hair hadn’t been tended to since you last saw her, half of it was hanging out of her ponytail, most of it falling in front of her face. Her eyes looked glassy and bloodshot, like she had been crying recently and you could’ve sworn that was your t-shirt she was wearing. The sight sent a wave of sadness over you, wanting nothing more than to leap over the counter and pull her into your arms and tell her things were fine, that the two of you were fine. But you stayed seated, too nervous to make a move.

You didn’t know it, but she regretted speaking to you last night, instantly realising what she’d done after she came back to her room to find it empty and half of your stuff gone. She knew immediately where you’d gone and would’ve gone through to talk it through with you, but she didn’t think it would help. She wanted you to have your time and space before approaching the situation.

With that, she tightened the lid on her bottle, sent you an apologetic smile and walked out of the room, leaving behind an awkward atmosphere in her absence.

“You alright?” Wanda asked

“Yeah, yeah no I'm okay. I’m feeling a little tired though, I'll catch you guys in a bit, okay?” You stood from your seat, not giving either of the two a chance to stop you as you walked out and back to bed. What a day.

_______________________

Hours had gone by now and you were back wrapped up under your bed covers, still clinging onto your bear. You hadn’t bothered to change, you went straight to bed after walking in the door. You’d managed to get some sleep earlier, not a lot, but it was something.

You tossed and turned, trying to find any way of being comfortable so your body could rest and your mind could shut off, but it was deemed to be impossible. All you could think about was your argument with Nat, and how she looked so upset earlier. The thought alone triggered the waterworks again, this time, you didn’t even attempt to stop them.

Only a couple of minutes had passed before there was yet again, another knock on your door. You rolled your eyes, really not wanting any more visitors, you were grateful for the help, but you really wanted to be alone.

“Guys, I’m fine! It’s late, get some sleep.” You called out, waiting to hear retreating footsteps, but they never came. Huh. That’s weird? You brushed it off quickly, assuming that it must’ve just been too quiet to hear, which you wouldn’t put past you due to all the sniffling you’ve been doing in an attempt to silence your crying.

You were wrong. The person at your door hadn’t walked away. They also weren’t Wanda or Carol. Instead, it was who you least expected to be in your room at god knows what time at night after the events that had unfolded recently.

“Hi.” The redhead whispered, worrying that if she spoke any louder, you’d be able to hear her voice shake with nerves, or the huge lump in her throat that wouldn’t budge.

You froze on the spot when you realised who it was, not entirely sure how you were gonna play this. Realistically, you might as well just see what it is she wants, it couldn’t hurt, could it?

“Hey.”

Her footsteps were practically silent but still felt deafening as she stepped closer to you, cringing slightly at how tense and forced all of this felt. It was her fault, she knew that, she hoped you did too. She didn’t want you blaming yourself for her actions, although she couldn’t say anything if you did, she was the one who had insulted you and planted the thought in your head, and she felt every fibre in her body beg for you to forgive her.

Approaching with caution, she walked up to the top of the bed, kneeling where Wanda had been earlier, but unlike Wanda, she didn’t reach out for you. She didn’t feel she had the right. Not now. She quickly took note of your eyes and how they were drooping and red, just like how hers had been earlier, which is how she could know in an instant that you had just been crying. She felt like a knife had gone through her chest at the sight, knowing that she had done that to you. She’d let you down so much that it had brought you to laying in bed alone and crying.

You mumbled something incoherent, completely muffled by the covers that were blocking your mouth.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you through the cover, could you tell me that again?”

You looked down a little, debating on doing it or just asking her to leave this conversation for another day. ‘But, she was already here, so you may as well get on with it.’ you thought, and with that, you tugged the covers down a little, letting Natasha see your full face now, unable to stop a tiny hint of a smile creeping up on her face. Your nose was runny, your eyes were puffy, and your face was flushed, but that didn’t change the fact that she still believed you to be the most beautiful woman she’d seen.

“Has something h-happened?” You hiccuped, noticing the frown take over her features as she maintained her eye contact with you.

“Yeah. i was a complete idiot.”

“Nat-”

“No, no, please. I want to explain. I need to explain. Please?” She pleaded, not caring how desperate she might’ve looked.

You paused for a minute before sighing gently, nodding at her and giving her a non-verbal go ahead to continue. She took a deep breath, looking away for a second then looking back at you before you could even blink. You could see her hands tremble a little, and while you were upset with her, you couldn’t leave it alone. You reached your hand out from under the cover and held it out to her, offering it for her to hold. She grabbed it without hesitation, squeezing it gently as a single tear fell, gathering the courage to say her next words.

“I have no excuse for what I did. There is nothing I could say that would make my actions plausible or acceptable, I shouldn’t have treated you like that or said what I did, and I understand if you can’t forgive me, or don’t want to. But I needed-, no, I need you to know, I'm sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N. You deserve better.”

More tears had fallen down her face at this point, her thumb not ceasing in their circular movements on the back of your hand. She didn’t know if this was going to be the last time she felt your hand in hers, so with every circle, she was savouring the moment, no matter how badly she wished it was under different circumstances.

You shuffled a little so you were in a more upright position, hoping that it would make speaking easier. You’d taken in every word, and while you were hurt, extremely hurt, you saw how remorseful she was. Her face showed no sign of humour or like she was lying. You could always tell when she was lying, her eyebrow always twitched a little, which you would always be in stitches about when she tried to say she didn’t eat your last cookie and her eyebrows would be moving like mad. They were as still as stone when she was speaking this time.

“You really hurt me, Nat. I didn’t think I was asking for much, just some time with you, that was all. And you left me every time, for work and with no notice. It was embarrassing.” She nodded in acknowledgement as she listened. “A-and then to come back and witness you being so, so, hostile, with me, I didn’t understand what I'd done.”

She gulped audibly before speaking again. “You hadn’t done a thing. Not a thing. I-I threw myself into work, into training. The last mission, I was sloppy, I wasn’t on my A game, it almost ended up with other people seriously hurt. So I thought-” She took a shaky breath in. “I thought, if I trained harder, It would mean I would be better for the next mission. But I disregarded everything else on the radar, including you, and then I got so mad at myself for it that I ended up taking it out on you instead. You don’t have a selfish bone in your body, and it was out of order for me to ever say so. It was wrong, and I don’t think I can apologise enough.`` She gave you an apologetic smile, tears streaming down her face steadily now.

“You know, when I came home from the restaurant, I had this driver.” You smiled. “Nice woman, she’s got a wife. She was telling me that it wasn’t easy for them. They had their ups and downs, their fights and bitterness. But they always found their way back to each other.” You whispered so softly that if there was any other noise in the room, Natasha wouldn’t have heard a word.

“And, when we argued, I really didn’t think we were going to be able to come back from that. I thought that maybe our time had expired.” You sniffled, your own tears trailing their way down your cheeks. Without thinking, she wiped them away, her palm pressing onto your warm cheek as you nuzzled into it, still finding comfort in her touch.

“I don’t want us to expire, Nat.”

There it was. There was the sentence that turned silent tears into fully body wracking sobs, your hands instinctively going to pull away and cover your face, instead, Natasha brought herself up to sit on the side of your bed, hastily bringing you into her chest and her free hand combing its way through your hair.

She rocked you back and forth, letting you get everything out of your system, no matter how much it hurt to hear.

“Shh, I’ve got you. I’m so sorry, moya lyubov.”

Your sobs soon died down with Nat’s help, sobs turning into faint pants with how tired you were and how much energy it had taken out of you. You looked up at her softly, as she smiled down at you.

“I love you, Natty.” You murmured, the words making the assassin’s heart grow fonder for you, if that was ever possible.

“I love you more.”

“Can you stay with me tonight? I can’t sleep without you.”

“Of course. Anything for you.” She leaned over you, bringing the blankets back up and over you, catching a glimpse of some brown fur among the darkness. She knew exactly what it was. She picked up up with the blankets and handed it to you, happiness overtaking her as she saw your eyes light up at the teddy she won for you.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you, Detka.” She pressed a kiss to your temple before settling down, holding you tight in her grasp, refusing to let you go for anything or anyone, not that you were complaining, you’d missed this.

Nothing had to be decided tonight, there was no rush for discussion. Sure, there were still things to talk through and work out, but that can wait. All that mattered right now, was that Natasha was there. She was holding you in her arms and you felt every ounce of love and apology she could give you. And that was enough for now.

taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives @wandaromanova @wvnda-maximoff

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[wri0thesley]

I propose slow loving sex with Gojo thank u for ur time

propose and you may receive

prince charming - gojo x reader (2.5k)

[comments and reblogs are much appreciated! // my jjk masterlist] 

warnings: afab reader, no pronouns. not sfw. minors dni! light fingering, piv sex, coming inside, soft. . . soft . . .

Most people who know Satoru Gojo would tell you that the man has two modes. Two ways of being. There is the way that he is from day to day; the laugh, the shovelling of sweets into his mouth, the constant stream of upbeat nonsense and jokes that few people are able to keep a proper track of. This is the Satoru Gojo he is with his students, you think – when the weight of being the strongest does not weigh so heavy on his shoulders.

Then, there is the Satoru Gojo in battle. There is the lift of his blindfold, the way that his blue eyes bore into his enemies – the self-assured way of talking, the ruthless precision with which he deploys his skills. This is the Satoru Gojo that does bear the weight of all of his strength; but his lips still quirk at the corners, he still cracks a joke sometimes though his tone is steely. They have shades of one another, those two personalities - but still, they are the two personalities that he chooses to show the world.

You, however, are permitted to see a different side than most people do.

You see Gojo now, with his body over yours, his soft lips brushing your jawline. You see him with his big hands, cupping your face so he has more access to your neck and your ear, the kisses coming slow and soft and relaxed. He is a large man, despite the fact that he is tall, lithe muscle as opposed to pure brawn – he cages you beneath him like he never wants you to be able to escape him.

You do not want to escape him. Not least when you finally manage to capture those lips in your own and you taste sugar on his tongue. As his teeth nip gently at your lower lip and a breathy sigh is transferred into his mouth; as his long fingers run down your body, appreciating you with a soft hum.

“I’d ask what I did to get so lucky,” he murmurs, voice low and throaty, “but I think I deserve you.”

Some things do not change; Gojo’s arrogance is always there, beneath the surface. He is lucky you find his self-confidence charming, your lips sliding into a smile as your own hands gently push up the shirt he’s wearing. His skin is warm and soft beneath it (you dread to think how expensive it was; Gojo spends money like it’s going out of style, and you have a myriad of gifts to prove it).

“You don’t shut up, do you?” You ask him, mildly, your smile not leaving your face. He laughs softly, and it feels like wind blowing through a field of flowers.

“You love me for it,” he says, all fondness, and he’s right. His shirt is parted from his top half and you admire him; unmarked skin (you suppose his technique means he’s free from the scars so many other jujutsu sorcerers learn to live with), the lean but taut muscles of his abdomen and shoulders. You run your fingers over him and he sighs, leaning into your touch like a cat. Your thumb brushes the hollow of his throat as you take a handful of his pale hair and drag him down into another kiss.

If nothing else, it occupies his mouth.

You can feel his hardness straining in his ripped jeans (pre-ripped for his convenience, with an eye-watering price tag, but even you have to admit that they make his ass look rounder and cling to his thighs and crotch in a way that makes you needy and heated if you stare for too long) as he moves his body against you, half-grinding.

You’re on the couch. You really should move to the bed – heaven knows Gojo’s is big enough for both of you – but there’s something domestic and sweet about Gojo kissing you here, amongst the remains of the sweets he’d been feeding you and with a romantic comedy neither of you are watching any more playing on the screen.

It’s so easy to feel like everything with Gojo is a life-or-death situation – to ascribe more meaning to a brush of his fingers on your shoulder or a murmur of ‘I’ll be home later tonight’ than you really need to.

This, though - this is simple, and easy. It lets you forget the world outside, just for the moments in which Gojo’s body is pressed against yours – lets you think of yourself as a normal couple.

There is nothing more romantic to you than the thought of you and Gojo being able to be just anybody.

So you spread your legs further apart so he can settle between them, sighing as his mouth moves from your own to brush kisses over your cheeks and the bridge of your nose instead.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he tells you, as he pulls back and tugs on your own shirt – you allow it to be removed, thrown onto the ground where you may never see it again. Much more interesting than the lost shirt are Gojo’s hands, large and warm, sliding up the expanse of your stomach and to your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh. He undoes the catch of your bra as if the motion is as easy as breathing – and maybe to him, it is. Upon your flesh being newly bared, he sighs, leaning down to kiss the swell of the curve. To find your nipple with the warmth of his tongue and tease it to hardness as he flattens his tongue against it and laps at you, the motion sending little electric shocks of pleasure to the place between your thighs. You sigh and squirm, and he gives the hardened bud a gentle graze of his teeth as he pulls back to look at you.

The sight of his blue eyes concentrated wholly on you and all of the distilled starshine contained within always makes you lose your senses for a moment. It should be unfair, you think, for him to look like that. For those wide blue eyes to seem so innocent when you know that he is not--

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells you. You know that he’s telling you the truth; Gojo is not the kind to mince his words. His hands rest on your waist, curving down over your hips to tug at your bottoms and make short work of those too. You lift yourself slightly to allow it, Gojo wriggling so that he can get them off without ever having to really move from between your legs. The bottoms go the same way as your shirt, and you are below him now in nothing but your underwear--

Though that’s barely covering anything. Gojo sighs to see the pale white of the piece you’re wearing has gone translucent from the gush of your slick, clinging to the outline of your folds and showing him just how needy the kissing and the touching and the groping has gotten. He trails a finger down and brushes your mound through the fabric, ghosting over your clit.

“This is for me, doll?” He asks you, a smirk on his face that you want to kiss off.

“You know it is,” you breathe, lifting your hips – and the smirk softens into a smile.

“Maybe I like hearing you say it,” he murmurs, increasing the pressure of his touch so he is rubbing you through the cotton; his big fingers pressing against your clit, making your hips jerk. You don’t know if you want to jerk away from the sensation of the fabric pressing against your swollen nub, or jerk into the pressure that you want so badly – so you settle for circling your hips, panting soft little noises.

Gojo smiles at you and the expression on his face is dazzling. Your heart skips a beat; he’s so beautiful. You’re so unbelievably, amazingly lucky--

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, leaning and kissing your cheek, burying his face in the crook of your neck to kiss and lick and suck at the skin there. Your back arches as his attentions send yet more shivers down your spine, set you aflame even further. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear his face was warm – is he blushing? “If you could see yourself, you’d understand--”

“If you could see yourself,” you tell him, through the pounding need in your chest, “you’d understand exactly why I’m looking at you like that--”

“Oh, I know,” he preens, though his face is still warm. He hooks his fingers into the wet underwear and pulls them over your thighs. “I know why you’re looking at me like that! I’m gorgeous-- but . . .” He seems to stumble over his words before he manages to get a good hold on them again, before he pulls back and the flush on his cheeks is only barely there. “You don’t know how gorgeous you are, and . . .” He places a hand to his chest. Your underwear is dangling from his thumb, though you’re not entirely sure how he fully tangled you out of him in the position the two of you are still in. “It breaks my heart!”

You smile despite yourself.

“You’re being too romantic,” you tell him, though your insides are secretly all aflame and bubbling. “It’s not like you.”

“I’m wounded,” he says. One hand lands on your thigh, drawing circles and patterns on the slick skin – his middle finger gently nudges the very outside of your sex, teasing the puffy lips apart so he can brush your clit. Your gasp dies in your throat. “I’ll have you know I’m an absolute Prince Charming, baby--”

And he’s giving you that charming smile, even as that same finger presses deep inside you in one swift movement and your knuckles clench on the couch cushion. You groan aloud, lifting your hips to allow him deeper, to make you feel fuller--

Your eyelashes flutter, eyelids somewhere between open and closed, but you still see that Gojo’s own gaze is fixed on you. It’s tender. Loving. You feel strangely exposed beneath it – but at the same time, you feel warm and comfortable and right as he adds another finger and stretches you out on it, scissoring them apart. He brushes the spongy spot of your walls that always hits different and you sigh, murmuring out his name--

“Satoru,” you’re practically whining. “Satoru, faster, please—”

“Prince Satoru,” he corrects you, with a grin that’s slightly crooked to one side and more charming than it has any right to be. He pumps his fingers in and out of you a few more times, until they are thoroughly coated in your wetness, until the fire inside you has been suitably kindled and your breath is uneven and your face is hot – and then he pulls them out.

You don’t have time to whine.

Not with the sound of his zipper, the sound of him kicking off his expensive jeans – the heat of him settling over you on his knees and taking your hips to slide you easily onto his cock.

He groans out your name like it’s all he ever wants to say.

“You feel like you were made for me,” he says, and you reach up and grab a handful of his hair again. He lets it be pulled with only the softest sigh – lets you bend him over you so the two of you are cheek to cheek, chest to chest, so close that you can feel his heart beating. “Fuck, doll--”

He’s right. He fits inside of you like the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle; warm and tight and perfect.

It’s a triumph, for Satoru Gojo to be lost for words – but he stops speaking as he fucks you slow and soft. It’s not that you and he only usually fuck hard and rough – but his job is stressful, and he is teasing and smug, and it’s more usual for you to be bent over on his bed as he pulls your hair and runs his mouth than it is for anything like this to happen.

He doesn’t seem to have any complaints about it, though – and neither do you. How can you complain when he holds you so gently? When he kisses you like he’s savouring the taste of you instead of devouring you?

He’s not speaking, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t noisy – he’s panting, groaning, moaning. He’s always loud in bed – he has almost no self-control when it comes to pleasure, you don’t think – but the noises also go right through you in only the best of ways, making you shiver and shudder. It’s unfair that his voice should sound so good. It’s unfair that he should have almost no flaws--

Some people might say his personality is a flaw, you suppose, but you unfortunately find him charming.

You wrap your legs about his waist and his cock hits deeper, brushes that same spot inside of you – but you find you do not care so much about the orgasm as you care about having Gojo in this embrace.

Not caring about it, though, doesn’t mean that is not going to happen – not with the slow thrusts of his hips, or with the sight of him with his lip bitten and his hair all mussed up from your tangling.

You’re not sure if Gojo has ever found something that he isn’t good at, and fucking you is no exception. His cock hits every spot inside of you and seems to find new nerves you didn’t know would feel so good when stimulated; your entire abdomen (hell, your entire body) feels like it’s on fire. You were slick enough before he’d entered you, but now you can feel your own arousal pooling on the couch cushions beneath you – you can hear how wet Gojo’s cock must be, on the push-pull of him fucking into you. The glide is slick and silky and searing, and your fingers flex on his back, as the tight string inside of you readies to snap.

“Sat-- I’m-- ‘m gonna--”

Your words are lost to the feel of him, to the haze that seems to descend around you whenever you and Gojo are together. You see the curve of his smile, hear him softly whisper;

“S’alright, baby--”

A stroke of his hips that has the flat plane of his pelvis pressing against your clit and you let yourself go, tumbling into the bright lights of your oblivion, your thighs tightening reflexively about him as if you want him to drown inside of you. Gojo sighs, groans, moans out your name as your cunt milks him for all he is worth, squeezing around him – and, he, too, lets go. Heat. Warmth. Gojo’s cock, twitching, heavy and perfect and right inside of you.

“I love you,” you whisper, against his collarbone, in time with the beating of his heart – and Gojo looks at you as his hips continue to roll slow and leisurely, eking out the final drops of his release as it settles inside of you like a claim, and he smiles slow and soft like honey or syrup.

“I know,” he says, quietly. “I love you too.”

He stays inside of you, on top of you, in the embrace, even as his cock begins to soften. Enjoying your warmth, your presence, your closeness.

Maybe he is a Prince Charming.

You’re not going to say that aloud to him, though.

He’d never let it go.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #writing #jjk posting #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #not sfw #jjk writing #afab reader #neutral pronouns #Anonymous

[kiribaku-queen]

Hiii congratulation for 1000 followers! U deserve it! So i was thinking of bakugou!prohero a reader where he's always busy and always hv this photoshoot with these hot models or hot pro hero that made reader feel left out. And the last straw was when a newly magazine publish of him kissing other girls cheek (or mouth) (u do u;)) and thats when they had a bad fight that caused reader to run away. I would like it to be heavy angst with a happy ending. I love angst but after a heavy angst i like a happy ending to soothe my heart 😂 if u do choose this, gudluck!

Blinded by the Fame

Angst

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: Thank you so so much for this request! I was actually so excited to do this piece because I already had an idea I wanted to use and this scenario was PERFECTO~! So painful yet so good!

Thank you for the congratulations and I hope this request met your needs! Please let me know your thoughts!

Who said dating an upcoming hero was going to be easy? It certainly wasn’t easy, not in the slightest. You definitely had hard days. There were times when it got so difficult that you wanted to quit. But was loving the hero worth it and fulfilling? Absolutely.

Bakugou Katsuki was the love of your life. Relationships were never easy. Couples always have obstacles and challenges they have to overcome. Even when you were in tears, screaming at each other at the top of your lungs, even if you gave each other the cold shoulder the entire week, nothing could replace the warmth that was Bakugou’s arms. You would never much refuse his touch every tine, but that wouldn’t stop Bakugou from having you in his arms every night, whispering sweet nothings in your ears despite all the things he said prior. And you would forgive him. Of course you would. How could you not?

But being with a rising hero came with bearing a lot of burden that you had to keep to yourself. You didn’t like how he was working all the time. You didn’t like how he came home bruised up, sometimes not even going to the hospital if it means not being able to see you for the night. You couldn’t bare seeing him like that. But that was part of his job and that was never going to change. So no matter how much you absolutely hated the sight, you let him do his hero work because that was what he loved to do. You couldn’t interfere with his dreams of becoming the number one hero.

But the thing that itched you the most was when Bakugou was forced to promotional shoots to get his name out there. The memory of when he first started made you laugh. Being the Bakugou that he was, he flat-out refused to do it. He didn’t like getting his picture taken. He’ll dress up once in a while, and when he does it’s real clean, but he wasn’t a fan of constantly dressing up. But when he finally let go and tried it once, he saw how much fan votes and popularity he was getting and eventually, would do more here and there.

And you didn’t mind if the shoots were by himself, but most of the time, they were with other pro-heroes or very attractive models. And that you feel insecure. How could it not? Your boyfriend getting close to other women while you looked nothing like these women? You didn’t have the body, the face, the money, or the fame these women brought to the table. You would never admit it, but you hated when other women were in the picture. And you hated when one of the women would be touching him. It left a sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach. You were so sure that he was going to leave you for one of them. But he proved his love by dropping down on one knee with the most gorgeous ring.

“Come with me to the shoot,” Bakugou proposed but you hesitated.

“I can just meet you at the restaurant,” you decided. The mention of being on set for one of his photoshoots seemed like a bad idea.

“I want to go together. It won’t even take long. One hour tops,” he swore and brought you by the waist, your body flushed against him. He takes your face in his hands and gently puts your foreheads together.

“I know you’ve been wanting to go to this restaurant forever. Let’s go together,” he whispers and you couldn’t help but fall for that voice over and over again.

“Okay,” you whispered back. He smiles at you, places a small kiss to your forehead, then your lips, before taking your hand to lead you to the car.

The set of the shoot was intimidating. People were running around everywhere, cameras were set in all positions, lights were blinding and hot, the space just looked so busy. And you felt like you didn’t belong. But Bakugou was so used to this kind of scene. He leads you to where the photographer and the director were talking.

“Ah, Pro-Hero Dynamite, you made it!” the director greeted your boyfriend. “Your stylist is in the next room. Go ahead and get changed and we’ll get started.” Bakugou nodded and turned to you.

“I’ll be right back,” Bakugou said and kissed you on the forehead. You watched as your boyfriend disappeared in the sea of people and then you were left all alone.

This was fine. You would just wait in the back patiently for him to be done. And then you two could enjoy a nice evening out at that fancy restaurant you’ve always been wanting to try. Just relax. You closed your eyes and took deep, but slow breaths. There was nothing to get worked up over. Afterall, it looked like Bakugou was doing this shoot by himself.

But you spoke too soon. Bakugou had appeared from the dressing room, looking all dashing and handsome. You felt your heart skip again. He was wearing a red shirt that was unbuttoned to the third button, exposing his broad and muscular chest. Over, he wore a black jacket with leather gloves and pants. His hair was styled slightly back, forehead showing. He was mesmerizing to look at. But shortly after his appearance, two women walked out behind him. Two gorgeous, fit, and slim women who wore skin tight, elegant dresses were doing the shoot with him. And for some reason, your heart began to hurt. The pang in your heart was constant that you had to beat at your chest to calm yourself down.

They were beautiful. And you had recognized one of the women: Pro-hero Miruko. You knew their history together. Bakugou had worked under Miruko during his school days and eventually worked along side with her after he graduated. You knew she was a flirt. She flirted with everybody. And that was fine, until she got alittle too touchy with your boyfriend. And that bothered you. But Bakugou was so used to her behavior that he didn’t even notice.

You couldn’t say anything. They are old time friends and co-workers. What? Are you supposed to say that he can’t be friends with her anymore just because you didn’t like it? And then you would look like the possessive girlfriend? You were fine with him being friends with other women, but they did make you nervous. Nervous because all the women he’s surrounded by are so unbelievably good looking, it put you to shame. Why would he want to be with you when he could have all these women to choose from?

But you tried to shake these negative thoughts away and playfully tugged at the ring on your ringer. There was a reason why he chose you. There was a reason why he gave you this ring. You shouldn’t think this way. But you couldn’t help it. You tried not to let it bother you, but in the end, it did. It really did. It bothered you so much that you couldn’t stop fidgeting.

You watched at Bakugou sat on the couch with both women on each side of him. His arms were lounging on the back of the couch while one girl sat next to him and Miruko stood behind him. Looking at his facial expressions, he didn’t seem interested in any of the girls. Which is a good sign?

And so the shoot started. Nothing else could be heard besides music playing in the background and the loud click of the camera. Everyone else was watching the shoot take place. Everything looked okay so far. Their outfits were scandalous but nothing scandalous was happening. The only directions the models were given was to look sexily at the camera. Bakugou delivered that perfectly with his go-to signature look. But now the photographer wanted more.

“Can the two women get a little closer, please?” the photographer asked and put his camera up to his face once more. The girls did what they were told and Bakugou didn’t even flinch. But you were growing nervous. There was more skin happening, more touching and it was making you uncomfortable. You gasped when you saw Miruko grab Bakugou by his chin to lift to towards her direction. Then she leans in, her lips ghosting over his ever so slightly, like they were about to kiss. Tears were spilling out and your cheeks heated up in anger until you finally exploded.

“Stop!” you yelled, stopping all production. Heads from all around turned to you. Mirko looked at you shocked and Bakugou was wide eyed with curiosity and concern. You gripped the handle of the purse that was slung around your shoulder, feeling anxious now that everyone was looking at you.

“Sorry, give me one moment,” Bakugou apologized to the staff. He got up, rushing towards you. He takes your hand and brings you in the dressing room. The door slammed shut and Bakugou turns to you in a huff.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he hissed. With tears streaming down your face, you were shocked by his reaction. But you were going to stand your ground.

“I don’t like how she was touching you,” you say.

“It’s my job,” he sighs in exasperation.

“Well she should learn her boundaries, whether it’s a job or not. And if you respected me at all, you would tell her no,” you stated firmly. But all Bakugou did was roll his eyes.

“You’re overreacting.” You scoff and it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Oh, I’m overreacting? Is it wrong that I don’t like when other women are touching you?” you started to raise your voice and talk back.

“Do I have to say it again? It’s my job. If I’m going to make it big, I have to do it. What? You think I like her? You think I was going to let her kiss me? It’s just for the pictures. Geez, how sensitive can you get?” he stabbed you right in a sensitive topic. You stayed silent because you weren’t expecting him to say that. The moment you think he’s going to stop there, he keeps going.

“I might need to save lots of women who are in danger. What? You don’t want me touching them? You’re going to get jealous because I’ll have some stranger in my arms? You’re afraid that she’s going to cling to me for dear life because I’m saving her? You don’t like that?!” he was practically screaming now.

“No! I don’t like that!” you screamed right back, giving back the same amount of energy. The tension in the air was so thick, anyone could feel it. Hell, they were all listening from outside and they felt uncomfortable with the ambiance of the situation. Both parties’ chests were heaving up and down from the labored breathing. And you just glared at each other. Bakugou turns away from you, breaking the ice.

“Fine. If you’re going to be this jealous, then maybe… maybe we shouldn’t be together,” he said. That was it. That was when your heart broke into a million pieces. You felt like if you stood there any longer, you would have suffocated.

“Fine,” you whisper. He doesn’t even spare you a glance. With teary eyes and a heavy heart, you tighten your jaw as you take off your engagement ring, wiggling it off your finger and then setting it down on the counter beside you. The sound of the metal hitting the hard desk was loud enough for Bakugou to hear, but he still chose not to turn to you. You thought that maybe, just maybe, if he turned around and said he didn’t mean it, then you would have been okay. You would have forgave him for those mean things he said. And then you would have apologized to him. But he looked set on his decision.

Without another word, you turned around and sped out of that building, tears never stopping. Everyone saw you go. Miruko laid her sad eyes on you and her broke for you. Shortly after, Bakugou walks back to the couch, plopping down with a huff.

“Let’s continue,” he says begrudgingly. But nobody moves, still shell-shocked about yousr argument. But this causes Bakugou to explode.

“Are you not going to start? Let’s get on with it!!” he hollers and everyone rushes like mice to get back to production. Bakugou lets out a long sigh, face in a permanent frown.

Miruko sits on the back of the couch and looks down at her old friend. She could tell that he was hurting just as much as you, if not more.

“Idiot~” Miruko sang.

“Ha?” Bakugou glared up at his past mentor. Mirko looked at her nails, not paying mind to the hot head who was on the verge of exploding.

“You need to go apologize,” she told him, more like ordered him to.

“Like it’s my fault.”

“You didn’t take her feelings into consideration,” Miruko pointed out, silencing Bakugou on the spot. “If she was feeling a little jealous, then her feelings are totally valid. You need to do something about it and make her feel like she doesn’t need to worry about anything.” Bakugou was only getting more annoyed.

“Whatever. It’s just business. If she can’t understand that, then we don’t need to be together,” he tried to convince himself. But that only hurt himself more.

“Whatever my ass. Then if you can’t be a good boyfriend and comfort her instead of making her feel insecure, then she doesn’t need you. She can find a better man who treats her good.”

“I do treat her good,” Right?

“Oh yes, I can tell,” Miruko said sarcastically. But in all seriousness, she knew he was hurting and she was trying to give advice from a woman’s perspective, but he is so stubborn and hard-headed that he doesn’t want to admit that he was in the wrong.

“Look, you let her go home like that right now, you’re not going to get her back. Go after her,” she advices on a serious note. Bakugou takes a moment to think but it’s all too much. He ruffles his hair and shoots up from the couch.

“Fuck this shit. I’m not doing this anymore,” he announces and storms out of the building. But not before shoving the metal jewelry in his pant pocket.

You didn’t know where you were going. You just walked and walked until you wind up somewhere. And god, you were so hungry. But you couldn’t go to that fancy restaurant that Bakugou had already made reservations for. God forbid he walks in while you were eating. And with another woman? How embarrassing. You couldn’t use his name or his fame anymore. You didn’t want to go back home. What if he shows up at your place? It probably wasn’t likely. He said he was done with you. You left the ring back with him. You guys were over. He wouldn’t show up uninvited. He has no reason to. You didn’t have money on you. You didn’t have any mode of transportation. The only think you had was your phone but the battery can only last so long. So you continued on walking until you hit a park and sat down on one of the benches. You were left alone to bathe in your thoughts until the set sun.

“Where the fuck did she go?” Bakugou mumbled to himself. He checked all the alleyways, in between streets, high and low, but he couldn’t spot you. No matter how he was frustrated he was feeling, he started to get nervous. He wondered if you were okay and safe right now. You hadn’t eaten all day. Wait. There’s no way…

“Hi. Reservation for 2. Under Bakugou,” Bakugou told the hostess. He arrived at the restaurant, in hopes that you came in. But when the hostess said that you hadn’t shown up, his shoulders deflated. Back to square one. So if you weren’t here, then where were you? Had you eaten yet?

Trying his luck, he went to your apartment, but after many attempts, you didn’t open the door. You could either by ignoring him or you weren’t home yet. Knowing you, you probably weren’t home. Then he was going to wait until you came home. Taking a seat next to your door, Bakugou waited. And he was going to wait until he could see your face.

You watched as happy couples and families walked by you, having the time of their lives. You smiled sadly seeing all their smiles and laughter. How you wish you could be like that. But now you don’t even know if or when that was going to be possible. That was all you wanted. Was to be happy. You didn’t want to be in this rabbit hole of sadness. You didn’t want anybody to pity you just because you were crying. But you did long for somebody to listen to you. For somebody to tell you that it was going to be okay and that you are loved. Love… You wanted someone to love you. He just wasn’t the one for you. Then who is? Will you ever find it? Was this your only chance and you ruined it all just because you couldn’t help but feel jealous?

Stupid.

Stupid (y/n).

You always ruin everything in your life. The one time you got something good, it’s gone in an instant. You knew it was too good to be true. But there’s no going back now. It already happened and now you have to move on.

By the time you noticed, the sun had already set and darkness fell upon you. You wanted to stay longer. You debated whether or not you were going to sleep on the park bench. But after recalling new articles of kidnappings happening around the country recently, you decided to go home.

It took you a while to go home. You walked as slow as you could, taking your sweet time returning back to your apartment. All you want to do is snuggle up in bed and go to sleep. You were so exhausted. Mentally, physically and emotionally. You just needed some rest and then you can worry more in the morning. You were coming up to your apartment and saw a person sitting on the floor what looked like in front of your apartment door. No. But there’s no way.

Blonde hair.

That was all it took for you to turn back, go down those stairs and back to the park. You couldn’t face him right now. You were already broken up so why was he there? He said all he needed to say so why was he there?

You thought you were being sneaky but Bakugou caught you. He saw you going back down those stairs and he immediately got up and chased after you.

“(y/n)!” he called out to you but you ignored him. The sound of his voice made your heart clench.

“(y/n)!” he called again, but louder. Again, you continued to ignore him.

“(y/n)!” he called for the last time, this time grabbing your arm. But you shook him as fast as he grabbed you.

“No, leave me alone,” you managed to say. Just keep on walking. Maybe if you walk long and far enough, he’ll give up. But he wasn’t giving up.

“(y/n), stop!” he grabbed you again, yet this time tighter so you couldn’t escape. Then he traps you in between him and the wall, forcing you to face him.

“Stop! Let me go! Leave me alone!” you cry. Your tear stained face and puffy eyes broke Bakugou’s heart. He did this to you. Fuck. He was the worst. You thrashed around, forcing him to let go, hitting him to push him away. Anything so he could get away from you.

Bakugou let you hit him. He deserved it. Every hit that you take at him, he deserved. Slowly but surely, he pulled you in for a hug. You were so drained that you let him. And as soon as you were in his embrace and your cheek hit his chest, you cried. You let it all out and didn’t stop. Bakugou didn’t say anything. He just held you, patting your head until you calmed down.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He kissed the top of your head and rested his head there. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He continued to say. Your cries were muffled by being buried in his chest.

You held onto him tight, continuing to cry your heart out. You thought you were never going to see him again. You thought you were never going to hold him again. Or smell him. You world was crashing down on you but was slowly being put together again.

“Do you want to go inside?” he asks you softly. Your voice was too hoarse and sore from all the crying, so you nodded your head, not letting go of him. Bakugou got the hint and picked you up princess style and led you into the house. There was going to be a lot of talking happening soon in that tiny apartment. It was going to be a long night.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou imagine #bnha imagine #bakugou angst #1000+ follower event

[kashimos-hajime]

pretty face on a pretty neck | b.b.

summary: they aren’t fucking dating. not fucking friends, either. no, bucky just fucks romanoff’s best friend until she’s fucking stupid, begging for it, and leaves in the morning because that’s how the universe fucking works. and sometimes, he wishes it didn’t work that way.

WARNINGS: a tiny bit of smut (18+), fingering, choking, swearing, drinking, brief mentions of cheating, bucky’s just really fucking jealous, mentions of a shitty relationship and self-doubt from it, the dark knight spoilers, fluffy end!! pairing: modern!bucky barnes x fem!reader, brief steve rogers x fem!reader lmaoo  word count: 5.5k

a/n: this is a cute lil piece written for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan​​​​​​! my prompt was “you called me, remember?” inspired by kiwi by harry styles. 

For a moment, Bucky wonders how the fuck he got into this situation.

Then again, he’s not complaining.

The view is fucking stellar.

You weave through the crowd, glistening like some glazed dessert that he can’t wait to get his mouth on. Your lips are shining with a swipe of that sweet lipgloss he loves to suck off and you’re wearing that black dress.

The black dress. Shorter than short, showing every inch of skin yet not enough.

You toss your head back, exposing that neck that he loves to bite to Steve who grins, glad his joke landed. Stifling a scowl, Bucky grabs his scotch and throws it back, desperate not to grab you and throw you into a stall just to mark you up as his.

You had made him promise, after all. No socialization outside their little nightcap sessions that often lead to… well, Bucky’s game for anything really.

A cigarette is pinched between your lips and Steve helps you light it with a flick of his lighter, the burning embers glowing in the dark, seedy bar. Leaning on the bar counter, you talk to Sam wiping down his station and he nods, eyes dragging over your face and Bucky cannot tear his gaze away as Sam pours you three shots of vodka. You blow out a lungful of smoke, cigarette pinched between two fingers before glancing at Steve and making some sort of bet, based on the way your lips curl.

They go down like water, dripping down your chin and you laugh when Steve wipes it off your collarbones before he grabs your chin and smashes his lips against yours. You immediately reciprocate, mouth opening as he bends you over the bar, his hair golden and his hand trailing up your thigh.

“Fucker,” Bucky mutters, finally managing to rip his gaze away. A heat blazes through his stomach.

Stupid fucking party for damn Romanoff’s birthday. Sometimes he hates being some of the oldest friends that redhead knows. It makes him feel creepy, wading through a sea of college students that are only one or two years younger than him. Steve himself is finishing his last year, so he’s sure he doesn’t share Bucky’s plight of feeling old.

He wishes he could just approach you and ask to leave, pin you against the wall of his apartment, take you like he knows Steve’s going to later, but he can’t.

You aren’t fucking dating. Not fucking friends, either.

No, Bucky just fucks Romanoff’s best friend until she’s fucking stupid, begging for it, and leaves in the morning because that’s how the universe fucking works.

And sometimes, he wishes it didn’t work that way.

“Not enjoying yourself, James?” Birthday Girl Romanoff asks, appearing at his shoulder and he turns to her, shifting in his seat.

“Steve’s too busy chatting up your friend for me to do anything,” he replies, keeping his tone light and Romanoff glances at where Steve’s made his way to kissing up your neck, your fingers carded through his hair.

“Give him a break,” Romanoff says. “They both need to get laid.”

“You don’t think she’s getting laid?” Bucky asks incredulously. “Every fucking guy I’ve met has said they wanted to get with her at least once.”

“Sounding a bit jealous over someone you claim to hate, James,” the redhead teases, sipping on her mojito with raised eyebrows.

“I’m just saying. All the boys were saying they were into it.”

“And you?”

“She’s… a brat.”

“Seems to me that you’re into that,” she hums, leaning on his shoulder. “Honestly, it would’ve been better if you two met before her and her stupid boyfriend did. Ever since she moved in with Rumlow…” The woman trails off and Bucky absently fills in the blanks, she’s faked every single orgasm she’s had with him. “I don’t know. He’s a fucking prick. Doesn’t treat her like she deserves.”

“Does he—“

“No. Just… never a priority, is she? Why else is she here alone?” Natasha pauses, as if debating how much to tell him, then adds, “Then he gets all pissy about where she’s been. On his beck and call, isn’t she?”

“Asshole,” Bucky replies distantly. Steve has his hand basically up your dress and he watches as your legs pull him closer, your lips running along the shell of his ear. “You’re endorsing your best friend cheating on her boyfriend, you know, when we could just be beating him up”

“Hey. She said she was going to break up with him. I can’t make those choices up for her and I’m not about to land any of my friends in jail trying to be my ride or dies.” Romanoff shrugs, glancing at her friend. “Besides, she doesn’t have anywhere else to go, does she? It’s not like she can move into my dorm or move back into her parents across the country.” Bucky watches as you hook your legs around Steve’s waist and he hoists you into his arms, disappearing into the crowd.

By the direction, Bucky can guess the destination and some distant part of his head whispers, She could move in with me.

“Might want to avoid the bathrooms for a while,” he comments and Romanoff snorts, the ice crackling by her straw as she stirs her drained glass.

“I’m going to go get laid, too,” she replies frankly. “Don’t stay brooding in the corner, Barnesy-bear. Your face is one worthy of being sat on.”

“Thank you.”

With that, the redhead slips into the crowd and Bucky gets up, plucking his jacket and leaving the bar. His pants are tight with the thought of your mouth and the sound of your gasping breaths echoing in his ear. The feeling of your fingers scratching down his back makes him roll his shoulders back as he flags a cab.

So what if you’re fucking Steve?

It’s not like he’s exclusive with you.

He can’t fault his best friend for having excellent fucking taste.

As he enters the cab and tells the driver his address, he wonders how the fuck someone like Rumlow snagged the title as your boyfriend when there are so many other options.

Steve being one, but he’s still living on-campus.

Bucky doesn’t want to say it, but maybe he, with his own apartment and steady job and intimate knowledge of your desires and interests and needs, is the other.

.

It’s two weeks later when he finally sees you again, at Romanoff’s birthday function at the beach. Something with closer friends, in broad daylight at a beach house Romanoff’s parents own. She and Sam are already there by the time Bucky gets there, unpacking in rooms for a weekend stay.

“Take any room you like,” Romanoff calls from upstairs and Bucky does so, choosing one of the few rooms on the main floor just as another figure walks in.

“I’m here, Nat!” Your voice echoes against wooden walls as Bucky pokes his head out of his room to see you there. He doesn’t know whether he should feel guilty or not that he’s glad Steve hasn’t sated your hunger when you show up alone, shorts riding up your thighs and a t-shirt that is so sheer it does nothing to conceal the bikini top you wear beneath it. “I’m taking my usual room.”

“Fine with me!”

With that, you walk down the hall, eyes meandering over the living room and kitchen. Bucky’s throat closes up when you walk past the stairs to stop at his room and you smirk all saccharine at him.

“Hey, Barnes.”

He scans your face for a moment. “You came. Thought you’d still be sucking Steve’s face off like you were back at the bar. Or… sucking his dick. Whatever floats your boat.”

“Well, that was a one-off thing. Heat of the moment,” you dismiss, leaning against his door frame and he hates the way you look against the wood. Makes something in him stir, makes the blood run hot and his mind focus on one image in particular.

“What’d your boyfriend say when he saw your neck fucking marked up?” he asks, uncaring of the thin ice he stands upon. You frown, arms crossing.

“I was careful,” you reply tightly, “and I didn’t let him leave any marks.”

Bucky can’t help the small flash of satisfaction at hearing that. “You’re not careful with me. I like seeing your neck tatted up with it,” he comments, his hand twitching to wrap around your throat as he lifts his finger to trace the soft, pulsing vein along your neck. You tilt your chin up, eyes narrowing with amusement.

“I’m not yours, Barnes.”

“What you say tells me differently, princess.” Dropping his hand to grab your wrist, he pulls you into his room and slams the door shut, pinning you against it with a harsh push. You exhale sharply, the breath pushing out of your lungs as your bags drop with a disant thump. His senses zero in on everything about you, the light scent of the sunblock smeared into your skin, the cotton twisting beneath his fist as his other hand finds your neck on its own accord. “You’ve been distant lately, kitten.”

He can feel your racing pulse against his palm as you smirk, hands wrapping around his waist and pulling him flush against you. Every inch of his skin is pressed against yours as you hike a leg up onto his hip. His hand at your waist immediately goes to cup it and you loop your arms around his neck innocently.

“I’ve had a lot of work to do. Brock and I…” You let out a soft hum as if to ponder but he knows it’s just to piss him off, “spent some time alone. Romantic trip out of town. Then, I had other things to do.”

“Did you?” It’s not a question Bucky wants answered as you nod demurely, lips twisted into a smirk. He wants nothing more than to yank your shorts down, spin you around, and have you screaming his name as he takes you again and again. He’s been blue balled for two weeks and you haven’t answered any of his calls.

Now, he knows why.

“So, that stupid boyfriend of yours was with you, huh?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he leans in close. He can taste the vodka in your mouth still, the vodka he never got to taste two weeks before in a bar, along with something fruity. Your gum, maybe, or an orange that you sucked clean off its peel. “And then what? Did you hop off after you faked your way through a few nights with him and head for Steve’s? Hm?”

“Temper, temper, James,” you whisper, lips barely brushing his. His entire body is alight, every nerve shooting sensations through his limbs as your fingers curl against the nap of his neck. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

“Jealous, yeah.” His hand on your thigh trails up and inward, sneaking past the hem of your shorts as you lower your leg to hook on his calf, pulling him infinitely closer. His dick is pressing against his swim shorts, completely obvious and painfully hard against your navel as he shifts his hips just enough to let his hand sneak further up your shorts. “Why would I be jealous?”

His fingers find the silky slip of your bikini bottom and brush over the junction of your hip, smirking at the tremble he can feel course through your body.

“You wanted me that night at the bar,” you whisper as he slowly trails deeper inward. “Tell me that isn’t true.”

“Who didn’t, hm?” He smirks when you turn your face away, biting your lip at his fingers dancing around a spot already slickening with anticipation. “C’mon, princess. You telling me you didn’t wear that black dress for me? Look at me.”

You refuse and he rubs his thumb into the side of your neck, dipping his head to bite at your collarbones.

“Look at me, princess,” he whispers, lifting his head to see your defiant gaze meeting his. “Tell me the truth about the black dress.”

“I didn’t wear it for you,” you bite back softly, “to fuck me in.” His hand tightens, just barely around your neck and your eyes flutter shut. Oh, how badly he wants to ravage your lips, lock you in this room and just take you in every way you want…

“Trying to make me jealous, kitten?” he rasps as your hips roll against his dick and you bite your lip, chin tilting up as your nails dig into his skin. Because it worked.

“So what if I was?”

“Then, you’re going to have to pay for it.” He spins you around and moves to shove his shorts just past his hips. You let out a sharp exhale at the pressure of his hand against the back of his neck, your hands pressed flat against the door. “You got anything to say for yourself, princess?”

His swim shorts fall and he tugs your shorts down just past your ass, tracing the smooth curve of it with an arrogant curve to his lip. His lips find your neck, nipping lightly before raising to your ear.

“I asked you a question.” His hand lands on your ass, kneading it with warm, familiar fingers and his words are a warning. In the silence, he can almost hear you rolling your eyes, struggling not to moan when he feathers smooth skin, tempts you with tiny brushes between the legs.

“You gonna keep talking, Barnes, or you gonna prove a point?”

His fingers hook on your bikini bottom, pulling the elastic away with an amused grin before letting it snap back against your skin.

“I don’t know. Are you gonna continue being a fucking brat?” He squeezes your neck, fingers digging into the soft flesh and you almost seem to melt against the door before he drags those bikini bottoms down too. Rolling his hips flush against your ass, he smirks when you shudder and try to thrust him in with a messy jerk back. “Aw, did you miss this?”

“Wouldn’t miss a thing about you,” you reply but it comes out strangled as his other hand wraps around your hip, travels down your navel. It wraps around your waist, keeps you tight against him as you smother his wrist between the door and your hips. When his fingers find your bud, you let out a soft sigh at the pressure he begins to rub into you and he smirks, biting the shell of your ear.

“C’mon, princess. You can admit it if you like,” he murmurs. Your fingers dig into the wood as you try to push yourself—in what direction, away from his hand, towards it, Bucky doesn’t know. He reaches farther down, fingers tracing through slick heat and he chuckles huskily against your skin, biting lightly into the junction of your neck and shoulder. “‘S that all for me?”

“Shut up,” you growl. Your eyes flash to him and he pushes you flush against the door, your head falling back against his shoulder as cock nestles itself between your cheeks. So close, not quite there. His hand on your neck travels forward, crooking inward and his fingers wrap around a silky neck from the front. He can feel every beat of your heart, the raspy whistle of your breathing. Lips falling to your exposed neck, Bucky sucks marks he knows are going to last if he doesn’t stop himself soon but two weeks has been two weeks too long— “Barnes.”

“Relax… it’s been a while since you’ve had a proper fuck.”

“Cocky bastard.”

“Needy brat.”

Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers work at a languid pace inside you. He knows every nook and cranny, every angle that brings you euphoria and he grinds his palm against your clit with every thrust, arrogant smile growing when you melt back onto his shoulder, lips slightly parted.

“Don’t have time for foreplay,” you finally manage to croak and you turn to look at him, eyes surprisingly clear for having his fingers in your soaking heat and working you up a steady incline.

“It’s the fucking beach, kitten. They won’t be in a rush to get anywhere.” Your lips are tantalizing up close and he chuckles, fingers pressing gently into your pulse. “How quiet can you be?”

“Try me,” you breathe, chest heavy and eyes filling with assured focus, “bitch.”

Challenge accepted.

Nudging your legs ever so lightly apart, he is about to push in. He can feel your heart beating through your back, a quick, racing drum and your breasts heave with every anticipating breath.

“James! Y/N! Wanna meet Steve at the beach?”

Natasha’s voice breaks the humid tension like a hot knife through butter, and your eyes fly open as if you’ve risen from a trance and he growls, not quite moving yet.

To say nothing raises suspicion.

He hates it here.

“Sure!” Bucky yells back right into your ear, much to your displeasure and he shrugs, trying to repress the smirk as his hand drops and playfully squeezes your breast. You return with a subtle nip to his jaw and he steps back. Your shoulders drop and you turn around, leaning against the door with a soft, condescending smile. Your eyes are blown with a mistiness and your thighs press together as he sucks his fingers clean. Your gaze narrows, he smirks with glee.

“What was that about not being in a rush to get anywhere?” you ask, dismissively sweeping your gaze up and down his body before grabbing your pants and pulling them up. His eyes follow the slow trail of the fabric and he sighs softly between parted lips. “Play one of those audios I know you’ve got on your phone. Can’t ever get enough of me, can you, soldier boy?”

“Don’t put yourself on a pedestal, princess.”

“I’m not.” You pick up your bags and open the door, letting cool sea wind sweep into the room that was cloudy with heat and lust. He can’t help the smile that digs into his cheeks despite how disappointed he is as you shrug innocently. You play the part so well. “It’s just the facts.”

Not for the first time, Bucky is left with the thought that Rumlow doesn’t deserve a second of your time.

.

It’s near the end of the month, the very last day. The thirty-first of May.

You broke up with your stupid boyfriend three days ago. He knows because he looked at your Instagram only to find all the pictures with him gone.

But he wasn’t stalking. He was just…

Curious.

Also, Natasha FaceTimed him and Steve, ranting all about it. So, he came upon this naturally.

Not stalking at all.

“Hey.” Bucky’s lying flat on his bed, naked and the sheets are too warm as he hears you pick up with a disgruntled sigh. “You awake?”

“Am now.” You don’t sound too heartbroken but your voice is a bit thicker than he remembers as you sniff. “What do you want?”

“Are you sick?”

“No, I was crying.”

He arches an eyebrow at your blunt response but doesn’t continue that line of interrogation. “Where are you staying?”

“Why does it matter to you? What do you want?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come over, princess,” he replied dryly. “But if you’re on the streets, I can come pick you up.”

“I’m not on the streets,” you reply sharply in a way that makes Bucky doubt your words. “But fine. I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Princess,” he begins but you cut him off.

“I just needa pack some things. See you in twenty.”

You hang up without another word. He lets his cellphone drop with a heavy sigh, sitting up and pulling on some boxers and some ratty old university hoodie.

It’s another fifteen minutes before there’s a knock on the door and he moves from the kitchen to the door, abandoning the orange juice he poured to pass the time. Swinging open the door to reveal that pretty face, he smirks to hide the concerned expression threatening to overtake his face. You look like hell, heavy eye bags and a wariness that he’s not used to seeing on your bold face. You’ve got luggage by your legs and a backpack is strapped to you as you regard him.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”

“You called me, remember?” you reply dryly. He steps aside, inviting you in. Walking in, toeing off your sneakers, and shedding your jacket, you let your backpack drop as Bucky pulls your luggage in. “Woke me up and everything.”

“Yeah, I bet I woke you up from your beauty sleep,” he snorts and you roll your eyes as his eyes trail over the dull skin of your shoulders, the limpness of your hair. He closes the door behind him, an unfamiliar tug pulling at his stomach. “Your boyfriend didn’t even give you time to find a new place?”

“No. And he’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

“Just a guy you used to fuck on occassion who couldn’t even make you come,” he says sagely and you sigh, rolling your eyes again.

“Are you describing yourself?” The words make blue eyes flash to meet yours and you smirk at the dangerous warning glimmering in his irises. Cocking your head, you shrug and lean against his dining table. “So, what do you want?”

“Why do I ever call you here if it isn’t for fucking you, huh, princess?” he muses, but even he can’t find the reason anymore. Whatever libido he was housing had melted in the time between you hanging up and you arriving at his apartment. As you stand before him, his blue eyes flicker from your exhausted face to the way your body seems strung out and on high alert. He sighs, too. “I didn’t want you in some seedy motel where the locks don’t work and the concierge is probably on the registered sex offender’s list. That sound good enough for you?”

You smile, the only thing familiar about you, and it sends a wave of relief through him. “Being nice isn’t your colour, Barnes.”

“Go take a shower,” he retorts, plucking your bag from the floor by your feet and he notices you don’t protest when he grabs your jacket and throws it in the hamper. “Then, we’ll talk.”

“Fine.” You’re unnaturally obedient as you head silently for the bathroom and he brings your luggage to the living room, setting it by the couch and laying it flat. Unzipping it quickly, he grabs the clean clothes he can find right off the bat and goes into his room to put them on his bed so you can grab them as soon as you come out. You’re standing in his bathroom, shedding your tank top and he grabs some clean towels.

It’s a strangely intimate silence as he offers you the towels and you dip your head in thanks. He can see the beginnings of a bruise on your bicep and he reaches tenderly for it, fingers barely brushing your skin.

“Did he—” The anger comes unbridled, hot and heavy and dark, in his voice and you don’t even jerk out of his touch. You’re completely relaxed in his presence as you look at your reflection in the mirror, so unlike a few minutes before when you’d been a ball of tension and you shake your head. His thumb gently digs into your skin and he can feel the pulsing heat of it. It’s fresh. Not even a day old, probably.

“No. I was walking and it was dark. Guy was coming out of a cab and didn’t see me standing there. Got whacked by the door,” you assure, pulling your arm out of his loose hold. Unbuttoning your pants, you continue to undress as he stands there, eyebrows knitting together. The air is wrought with an energy he’s unfamiliar with and he withdraws but your hand reaches for his wrist. Wide eyes dart to your face and he’s shocked by the surprisingly soft smile pulling at your lips. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, uh, sure. Hungry?”

You let go of his wrist and his skin is tingling. He rubs at it absently as you nod, your strange smile ever present. “Starving.”

“I’ll whip you something to eat.”

As he’s stirring Kraft Dinner around in a bowl, he listens to the shower run and thinks.

Or doesn’t think.

Time seems to pass in such a strange way. He’s cooking for you and you’re in his shower and nothing about this is normal or something he’s used to, but it’s not something he hates.

The shower turns off just as he’s sliding the mac into a bowl and he pours you a glass of water before finishing his own abandoned cup of orange juice.

Your footfalls are light and you smell like his shampoo as you sit down at his kitchen island, clad in the clothes he laid out for you.

“It’s just some Kraft I had lying around,” he says uneasily, pushing the bowl towards you but you take it anyway with a shrug and a easygoing smile. You look more awake after the shower and colour has worked its way back into your lips. There’s new life in your eyes as you eat and Bucky, satisfied, heads for the couch just to watch whatever’s on until you’re done.

Everything seems so strange, mundane, almost… domestic as you eat, scroll your phone, and he watches The Dark Knight just because it’s on. He watches the movie blindly, his mind still going a mile a minute and his body unintentionally becoming attune to yours in a way he only knows with when he’s fucking you.

But now, he knows how you move, knows when you’re putting your bowl in the sink and knows when you’re walking towards him by the way his heart starts beating just a millisecond quicker, the gentle give of his couch as you sit down beside him. Your eyes burn into his cheek and he glances at you out of the corner of your eye.

“Come here,” he allows, lifting his arm from the pillow and you scoot closer, pulling the pillow into your lap and hugging it tight. He rests his arm along the back of the couch. “You didn’t die of food poisoning. Pity.”

“You’d have to be truly something to fuck up Kraft Dinner, Barnes,” you reply dryly, smirking at him and he suppresses a snort as you tuck your knees up. “It was good. Although, I hope you’re not living off of that stuff.”

“I do take out every once in a while,” he says with a shrug and you roll your eyes.

“I’m a college student and I can cook better than you.”

“You’re one year younger than me. We’re not so different.”

“Whatever you say.”

Bucky can’t help the amused smile edging its way onto his face as you fall into silence, watching the movie, too. One thing Bucky’s always liked about you, even if he didn’t like anything else, is that you share a lot of the same interests as him. They had whole rants on how terrible some movies were, or the disappointment that was some TV finales. It always made pillow talk a fun time, if they ever made it to that stage. 

It was more often than not either of them would wake up before the other and just head out without a single word.

Bucky finds he likes your companionable silence more than he thought he would. Maybe he should’ve indulged pillowtalk a bit more. By the small, sated smile on your lips, he wonders if you’re thinking the same thing.

“You know,” you say after a while, “when I said at the beach house that you wanted me…” Your voice rouses Bucky from his trance of staring at the TV. The credits are rolling and he hadn’t even realized. So lost in his thoughts he was near the end, thinking about Rachel’s letter to Bruce and hyper aware of your every shift in your seat beside him, the movie seemed to pass by in a blink.

Something about the long lost melancholy of lost chances…

Bucky’s never been fucking sentimental, but even he can see the chance that Bruce Wayne really… really missed out on, and the blue-eyed man doesn’t want to be in that position ever. To do the right thing only to find out it’s too late. Because she died in the end, didn’t she? She died and he was alone even though he tried…

“What?”

“At the beach house,” you repeat. “When I basically told you that you wanted me…” you say with a roll of your eyes, “it was just teasing, foreplay.” Then, more seriously: “But I guess I was being like Two-Face. Double entendres, innuendos, all that.”

“You’re going to become a vengeful, homicidal DA?” he quips wryly and you huff in faux irritation, poking him lightly in the chest.

“No. God, use that brain inside that pretty little head of yours for once.”

“Aw, you called me pretty.”

“Barnes.”

“Fine. Continue.”

“Well, what I was saying… When I said you wanted me… God, this is stupid. Feel free to just punch me in the face after, but…”

“But?” Eyebrows knitting together, he looks at you and you pull the blanket up to your face, embarrassment telltale in the way you avert your eyes. He gently pushes the blanket down, muting the TV and waiting patiently. You look more alive that you did the first minute you walked into your apartment and you look like you want to bury yourself in the blankets but he’s not going anywhere and you stare at him, lips pressed into a flustered line. “I’m not going to punch you in the face. You can just tell me.”

“I guess… I just... I wanted to believe that you wanted me,” you state, shaking your head, “for me. Like some affirmation that there’s a possibility you could ever want me like that, and… I’m being dumb. I swear I’m not usually like this, all sentimental and shit, but it’s just I feel like shit and you don’t care about any of that and Brock… I broke up with him because I know he doesn’t love me even if he says he does and that I deserve better but I just… it gets to me, you know? It fucking gets to me when I’m all alone and now I am alone and if he didn’t put me first... maybe it’s because I’m not wanted.”

“Hey, princess,” he murmurs, reaching for your hands and you surrender to him easily as he cranes his head to keep your eye contact despite you ducking your head. “I don’t judge you for any of that shit and that’s wrong. He’s a fucking prick, and people want you here. Romanoff, Steve, Sam…” Me.

“I know. I know and I just… I’m scared because I have nowhere to go. And, you’re always honest with me, and just slap me in the face because… I can’t believe I’m asking you this what if… what if everyone’s gonna treat me like Brock did? What if no one will ever really want me?

There’s a beat.

Then, two.

He’s squeezing your hands so hard he’s surprised you haven’t drawn away but then he realizes your fingers are clutching onto him even tighter, his bones wincing as you crush his digits.

“It’s stupid. I’m stupid—”

“No, you’re not.” Bucky shakes his head and you—fourth year college student and someone he shouldn’t be attached to because you two are so different but he is because you two are so alike—are something else. No one has gotten under his skin like you have.

You’re not fucking stupid. Because I do want you. In a way. In more than one way. And you are irritating and burn so fucking bright and you’re fucking bold, but—

I want you.

He doesn’t say any of that.

And it’s complicated, but that’s how the universe fucking works.

“You’re free to stay here for however long you need to,” he tells you quietly, seriously. “I don’t care how long it is, and there are no catches. Just… just don’t give that fucker another chance, yeah? ‘Cause there’s always gonna be someone who wants you, kitten. Someone who’ll treat you right.”

You smile faintly, knees tucked to your chest and hair still a bit damp from your shower. You’re warm, soft, with no cigarette smoke clouding your silhouette and no glossy sheen of alcohol. You look like you in a way Bucky’s never known before.

He thinks this beats you in any kind of black dress.

“Okay,” you accept and you lean over first to kiss him. It’s a soft peck to the corner of his mouth, an innocent, flitting thing, but Bucky doesn’t mind. He eases against the couch and you lean against his chest, cuddling close against him. His arm falls around your shoulders, holding you tight to him and you melt against him just like he does around you.

For a moment, Bucky wonders how the fuck he got into this situation.

Then again, he’s not complaining.

The view is fucking stellar.

#fic: pretty face on a pretty neck #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x reader smut #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x yn #ldamc #my writing #bucky barnes smut

[sugurizz]

The house is yours

Pairing : Zeke yeager x reader

Rating : explicit

Word count : 2,5k words

Summary : as a broke student, finding an apartment is not easy. But the cute owner decides to help you with it, in a way that you both get to benefit.

Warnings : soft dom! Zeke x sub!fem! reader, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, nipple play, slight spit play, vaginal sex, slight breeding kink, daddy kink

(Credits to the owner. I don't own the fanart)

After months of looking through ads, websites and even newspapers. finding a decent, comfortable and cosy appartment near the university was a dream coming true. After calling the owner and fixing a date to meet toghether and check the place, your roommate wasn't able to make it to the appointment so you had to go there on my own.

Being already anxious for the meeting, you put a pair of black jeans, a grey t-shirt, a hoodie and your white sneakers before taking your backbag and going there.

After ten minutes or so, you were at the spot you agreed to meet at. You couldn't see anyone particular so you got your phone out of your pocket, ready to call the owner again in order to spot him.

It was then when you saw a tall, broad and handsome man- probably in his late twenties- picking his ringing phone from the pocket of his elegant beige trench coat.

A black turtleneck hugging his visibly muscular chest and arms left your mouth nearly open. That's definitely him - you thought to yourself - feeling your face already heating up, you swallowed hardly, prayed that you weren't really blushing,  took your courage and crossed the road walking towards the little coffee shop he was standing next to.

Standing directly in front of him didn't help at all. You were so overwehlmed by him. and to be frank, you didn't really know where to look. His whole presence was doing things to you, is it His charming glance? his icy grey eyes, ornamented with a set of thick blonde lashes shinig softly in the feeble sunlight? Or is it those silky soft blonde locks, joined in a nice haircut making his enchanting appearence even more perfect and complete?

"Hello, I assume you're the new renter. Very nice to meet you. I'm zeke yeager ."

"Likewise, pleased to meet you mr yeager. I'm y/n ".

You tried your best to keep calm and professional by greeting him. But the trembling handshake you gave him was showing the complete opposite.

"Shall we go see the appartment ? This way please."

Were you too infatuated by such grace? Or is he really such a sweet, soft and courteous gentleman? You couldn't really tell.

You took a quick glance at his gorgeous profile side. And you completely wished you could take a screenshot with your eyes. His prominent cheekbones added to his manly features. And his fine silver glasses gave him that elegant intellectual aura.

The silence was broken by a deep, gentle :" so.. you're both students.. right?"

" yes. good thing the house is around 10 minutes from the university. That should save us plenty of time ."

" glad to hear that, I actually studied there for more than 6 years, that was before I finally graduated and decided to move to (city name) ."

" I see. May I ask.. why did you move? " you demanded.

" haha don't worry. It hasn't to do with the apartment. It's just that.. You can say I'm an adventurous man." He answered with a bright smile.

" right. I guess it's always tempting to move and see something new..."

You never thought a conversation with a total stranger could be this smooth, warm and relaxing. It unexpectedly didn't feel like a forced out, awkward smalltalk at all. But more like a nice and slow getting to know each other.

"We're finally here." He opened the building's door, Letting you inside and pressed the elevator button.

" I see you like the place already.." He affirmed, a soft smile graced his features, leaving you bewitched.

"Y-yes .. it's pretty welcoming." You added.

Getting out of the elevator, the cute owner took the apartement keys out, opening the door and letting you in.

After checking all the house's functionalities and facilities and discussing the period of your rent. You were ready to pay the first month of the stay until you got surprised by the deposit price. You were so shocked that you had to pay around two thousand five hundrend dollars along with the actual rent.

" I'm not sure we can actually afford that.. " I said, feeling somehow disappointed and lost.

" I know, a lot of people complain about the deposit price. I wish I could make an exeption but the price is fixed by the building's owner. He has the majority of control over that."

" and.. I guess it can't be payed in installments. can it ?"

" i'm afraid not." He retorted, quite concerned by your defeated aura.

" that's really infortunate. I was looking forward to settle here. But anyway, it was good getting to know you mr Yeager."

Hiding your frustration, you were ready to leave when his calm, reassuring voice stopped you . " maybe , we can help each other out after all..."

You turned back, looking for a further explanation when he carried on :" I can get to pay the deposit for you. And you'll have to give me a service in return.."

"okay.. and the service is ...? " you asked, being both curious and excited.

The blonde walked to the door and locked it, his silver eyes never leaving yours.

"Mr yeager..."

" Oh can we stop with the formalities now little one. If we finally agree to make a deal we should get more familiar to each other. Shouldn't we ?" He let out in a deep virile voice, causing your heart to throb numerous times.

Walking closer towards you, he stood and leaned over, whispering in your ear : " If I said I'm feeling sad and lonely today, Would you agree to entertain me ?"

He was so close you could barely register his request. Close enough to notice his irises fixed on yours, staring at your soul and then travelling a little downwards, presumably staring at your lips. You were ready to explode when his big hand landed on your chin, long slender fingers carressing it and driving you so crazy you started babbling some nearly inaudible nonsense.

" i mean.. I.I could ... I don't know.. I-"

" shh, no need to get confused, I'm here with you". a calloused thumb landed on your lips, caressing them with a gentle yet insisting motion.

Your mind shut down, leaving you comptelely blank. God, you got lost in his eyes again. You kept staring like an idiot, letting his thumb make its way through your lips and next thing you knew you were feeling his finger on your sensitive tongue. You never did this before. But why did it feel so natural with him ? Why didn't you resist at all ? How did you agree to this ?  Questions kept bringing on other questions inside your crushed mind. The betraying heat kept rising to your cheeks by the minute, and you couldn't control your intense breathing anymore.

You felt like a fragile leaf caught in a storm. Your consciousness stopped reacting when his face started closing up to yours.

" I believe we got ourselves a deal then? "

" i.. I mean-"

The blonde's delicious lips crushed on yours in a swift motion, his huge hands left to pull you closer pushing you against his large warm chest and making you feel so small and helpless.

It didn't take long for you to feel his soft warm tongue playing with yours. His refreshing minty breath was mixed with a faint hint of cigarette. You couldn't help but enlace your arms around his neck, trying to regain some balance. The sloppy wet kiss  you shared ended with your mouths parting in a wet noise, a glistening string of saliva connecting his dark red tongue to yours, Leaving you breathless.

"You're rather shy and blushy princess... I like it." Zeke leaned close to your sensitive neck, started peppering kisses from your cheeks down your neck and all around your clavicle . His warm breath on your exposed chest made you shiver, feeling your wetness already pooling between your legs. You started rubbing your thighs toghether in a search for some relief. The sudden thought of the rent crossed your mind again.

" Zeke .."

" yes sweetheart, say my name "

" what about the rent ... what should I do now ?"

"little pumpkin is still afraid." You trembled when he leaned over to lick your earlobe before carrying " consider this house yours, princess " .

You couldn't hide your relief after hearing his words. You looked back at him, the perfect pale skin of his cheeks turned into a lovely shade of pink. His cute ears were so red you thought they were about to blow off. His glasses were threatening to fall off the cute tip of his sharp nose. And you felt so proud seeing the mess you left at his golden strands. Some of them falling sexily on his eyes.

" I need this off" he tugged at your shirt , raising your arms gently and sliding it up your shivering body. It was so embarrassing you instantly hid your face. Letting out some insatisfied whines.

"gorgeous" he lets out, eyes contemplating your breasts, still hidden behind your bra. Still closing your eyes, you felt yourself being lifted in a bridal style. Zeke's strong arms placed you on the comfy couch of the living room. He stood up and took of his coat, throwing it away. His black pullover was next, revealing his toned chest, shredded abs and prominent V line . You wished you could keep this addictive view in yout mind forever. His godly body hovered around you like a shield. You leaned back , staring at the enchanting male before you, unbuckling his belt.

You were probabely too distracted by his beauty to notice the huge tent that was forming in his pants. His hand reached beneath his boxers, freeing his massive cock from it's confinements.

" like what you see ?" He winked at you, leaving you speaking gibberish again.

" zeke...it- it's not gonna .."

He cut you out, taking off your jeans in a quick move, leaving you in your black laced panties. " already soaked aren't we? What kind of a slut gets her pussy that wet just from a damn kiss?"

He rubbed his fingers against your clothed cunt before swiping your panties to the side. your clit was swollen and flushed, desperate for attention. The handsome male leaned until he faced your pussy. He spread your legs even wider, adding to your growing embarassment.

" goshh, look at how much slick is between your pussy lips,..filthy.." he slid his fingers between them.

Never leaving your innocent eyes, he puckered his lips, opened his mouth and spat on your naked pussy. You nearly passed out when he started french kissing it. Looking at it with such hunger and lust, he slid his longue tongue in your fluttering hole, driving his index and middle fingers in the process. His thick and now wet beard felt so good stinging your plush thighs.

" zeke ahhh, wait... omg zeke it feels.. Ahhhh " your moans started getting louder and louder. 

"Whine for me baby.."

His experienced fingers massaged your spongey insides, hitting spots you never knew your pussy had. You were drooling like a dumb baby, eyes rolling to the back of your head and breath hitching in your breast.

"Zeeeeke.. uh- i'm ahh i'm gonna cum, it feels so good... so good i'm cumming .."

"Yes baby, cream on my fucking tongue."

It wasn't long until you released all over his hand, his tongue was painted with cum. He shamelessly swallowed it, licking his fingers passionately as if he was tasting an elixir. He leaned to kiss you again, cum and drool still running down his messy beard. Its cute hairs tickling your cheeks and chin made you chuckle.

He took your dripping panties away, threw them somewhere across the room and slid his hands below your back, unclasping your bra.

" I need to take it off, but I really do like the cute ribbons though..." he complimented your cute bra.

" t-thank youu.." the shyness creeped inside you again. But it was replaced with surprise when he buried his head deep between your breasts like a starving baby. growling and grunting, the vibrations sent shivers down your spine. He kept lapping at them, looking at you with burning lust, taking a nipple between his teeth and flicking the other under his fingerpads.

"Are you ready, sweet pie? Wanna take my cock for me ?"

"Y-yes"

"Yes who ?"

"Yes daddy ."

"It's daddy from now on, little one"

Feeling yourself , yu bent over for him, giving him a perfect view of your bare cunt.

" hurry daddy, I can't wait anymore..."

"As you wish, princess"

Within seconds, you felt his hands settling on your hips, his firm cock sliding slowly past your hungry hole.

" it hurtss, daddy .. it hurts..."

" shh, it's ok princess, you're too tense.. relax for daddy.."

The pain suddenly turned into a pure bliss as he bottomed down, making you moan his name like a lullaby.

"I'm going to move baby.." he said, cupping your cheek in his soft palms. 

His cock was ramming inside you so deliciously you felt your drool dribbling again, his strong silhouette leaning on you, hugging you with one arm and caressing your stomach with the other. Seeing his bulge through your tummy, you felt so full and loved by him.

" look baby, look how deep i'm inside you"

" please cum inside me daddy, I want it pumping in my stomach ."

your words sent him to the edge; hitched breath, loud growls and harsh slaps landing on your ass. It felt so good your tears started gushing along your face.

" hnnghhh wanna take ... fuck ahhh .. take daddy's seed inside you ? Tell me slut " he squeezed your face between his large fingers, earning a whine from you.

" mmhmmm ... ahhhh"

" use your words when you talk to me"

" I want your cum deep inside me, daddy"

His thrusts became hysteric, making you shake. both of you moaning loudly, not caring about anybody hearing.

"Ahhhnghhh shiiiit , fuck yeaaah" the golden daddy came in thick white strings inside you. Shoving it all up your womb. You give up, letting your orgasm wash over you in a shameless moan. All your juices mixed with his sticky huge load, starting to spill from your greedy cunt.

Unable to move anymore, you collapsed on the couch. Trembling and breathing heavily. Zeke doing the same, he went to catch his neglected coat and wrapped it around your naked body, along with his strong arms around you, nuzzling his head in your neck.

" I guess having an expensive rent has its perks after all". He teased, laying a soft gentle kiss on your forehead.

" yup, you get to have a daddy for free". You whispered.

Note : I would really appreciate the feedback on my work so feel free to comment down.

#zeke yeager #zeke jäger #zeke jeager #zeke jeager x reader #zeke yeager smut #zeke yeager x reader #zeke yeager imagine #zeke thirst #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #aot smut #fics #snk #zeke x reader #icymi

[strawb3rryw00]

Late Night ♡ woo wonjae x female reader

warnings -> swearing

synopsis -> y/n works hard in her studio day and night and begins to worry her boyfriend who works right next door.

fluff and some suggestive shit.

also there’s a little bit of jay park x reader in here too

~♡~

4:25 am.

You let out a long sigh, slamming your computer shut after listening to your track. You had recently joined AOMG as their youngest member. You were a prodigy, having only been rapping for a year when Jay saw you performing at a small show just two years ago. No one in the company had a doubt in your skill, all of them praising you highly on the single you released after joining.

But you were a perfectionist. And you were determined to prove to everyone that your talent was undeniable. You were labeled as the hidden ace of AOMG by a magazine company after a special performance at one of Simon D’s concerts.

Your lyrical abilities and flow were unmatched by most artists in the game. You had a unique musical and physical style which caused you to have a large fan base, doubling in size when AOMG confirmed your relationship with Woo Wonjae, another artist under the label.

You were featured on his album, his fans becoming yours after hearing your talent paired with his.

But that only made you put more pressure on yourself.

You’ve locked yourself in your studio for days on end. Wanting to get your first full length album utterly perfect for your fans, the company, and yourself. You’ve gone days without sleeping or eating, earning the worry of your label mates.

Just three hours ago Jay was in your space lecturing you. He made sure to take care of every artist under him, checking up on them despite his busy schedule. While having two companies and multiple rappers and vocalists under his labels, you were the one he was always most worried about.

“Y/N man,” He spoke to you casually in english. “I love your drive and effort, but you need to go home sometime tonight.”

You frowned, pausing your song you had played. “But Jay,” You rolled up your sleeves and exposed your tattooed arms. “I’m just trying-“

“I know what you’re trying to do.” Jay cut you off, his tone a little harsh. He hated talking to you like that, but it’s what you needed. “Your friends? They snitch on you. Especially your little boy next door,” He referred to Wonjae, who was probably working away in his studio as well.

Since your boyfriend was also an artist, he understood your mindset and left you alone due to your request. Of course you guys still talked and spent time together, yet it was minimal during this time.

“I should not have to hear that you’re in here day and night. I gave you the full fucking luxury studio as a gift, thinking you’d take care of yourself. But youre basically living here. The shower is for occasional late nights y/n,” Jay furrowed his eyebrows at you, standing up and sighing. “I’ll force you to move to a smaller one, don’t think I wont.”

Jay opened his arms for you to stand up and hug him, which you did. He held you tightly, resting his head on yours and sighing again. “You stress me out. I better hear that you’ve gone home by tomorrow afternoon.” He says sternly, pulling away and looking at you.

“And you better fucking eat babe,” He always spoke to you in a friendly manner but it was never flirty. He genuinely cared for you and the other artists. And it was normal for you both to use babe in a casual manner. Despite his lecturing and the wide age gap, you both were very good friends.

“I will,” You smiled at him, pulling your phone out to find something to order.

He exits your studio and you sigh, sitting down on the couch you added. Your studio felt more like home than your apartment. You decorated it as such, even adding a cat tower for when you have your feline roomie with you, which is usually always because you don’t like leaving the ginger cat alone all the time.

After he left you went back to working diligently. You had finished three songs in the five months you’ve been working on the album. You didn’t have an actual deadline but you knew your fans were waiting. You had several features you wanted on this album as well. Hoody has been waiting for you to finish your part of this song so she can add her magical vocals to it. But you hadn’t quite found what you were missing from it.

Your phone lit up, a message from Jay on it. ‘I have your location ma’am’ The message read, earning a laugh from you.

‘lol’ you respond, setting your phone back down. You look at your lock screen and smile. It’s a picture of you and Woo that a fan took of you both performing on stage together. It was the first time you performed with him after it being confirmed you both were dating. In the picture you’re rapping to the crowd, squatted down a little and Wonjae is looking at you with the happiest look plastered on his face.

At the thought of your lover you decide it’s time to take a break. You get up and stretch, hearing your back pop, slipping back on your slides. You tend to stay in your socks while working, it’s more comfortable to you.

You walk out the studio and next door, smiling as you read your boyfriends name on the door. You walk in without knocking, knowing he never minds.

He’s in the booth, rapping his verse to Kunst, who looks at you with tired eyes. You stand behind his chair, resting your hands on his shoulders and giving them a slight squeeze while listening to your boyfriend.

You could listen to him rap all day. His deep voice was so beautiful in your ears. “Are you about to leave?” Kunst asks you. “Jay told us to make sure you leave.”

You shake your head. “Not yet.” You say, earning a sigh from the taller male.

Wonjae exits the booth, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. “Ahh finally taking a break mm?” His arms wrap around your shoulders and pull you close. You inhale his scent, closing your eyes in comfort. He doesn’t let you go, and holds you while talking to his friend.

“Imma head out, you did good.” Kunst gets his things together and pats you on the head before wishing you both farewell and leaving.

Wonjae kisses the top of your head and yawns. “Let’s eat baby,” He says softly. You nod and slide your hands under his shirt and run your fingers along his back, his favorite thing.

“I missed you,” You say into his chest, still with your eyes closed. He chuckles, his hand resting on the back of your neck while his fingers play with the few pieces of hair that fall from your bun.

“I missed you too, you been busy huh?” He pulls away slightly to look down at you. You meet his eyes and give him a tired smile which he returns.

“Yea you could say that.” He laughs at your answer which is music to your ears.

Now having been in his arms you don’t want to return to your studio for the day. You really did miss him but work is very important to you.

Wonjae sits down in the chair his friend was occupying previously and pulls you into his lap. Your legs hang over one arm while your back rests against the other. You lean into him, his arms sliding around you once more and pulling you closer. You tuck your head into his neck and relax to the sound of his deep breaths.

“It’s almost 6 am,” Wonjae hums, his fingers tracing the outlines of the tattoos on your exposed arm. “I’m tired.” He sighs. You know he’s hinting that you guys should leave, especially after Jay having said something.

“Me too,” You admit, placing a gentle kiss on his jaw and yawning. “Let’s go.” You add, reluctantly leaving his lap.

He stares at you a little shocked. “You’re finally listening huh? I’m impressed.” He stands up as well, laughing when you hit his arm.

“Go get your things jagi,” He waves you off.

After getting your things and your kitty, you lock up your studio and meet by his while he locks up as well. He smiles at you, sliding his bag on his shoulders and wrapping his arm around your shoulders while you both make your way to the parking garage.

“Let’s go get some early food and then go to my place yea?” Wonjae offers, guiding you to his car. “Ron can come with us and play with my babies,” He refers to your cat that you named after the ginger wizard.

You nod, getting in the passenger seat in his car and setting Ron on your lap. You inhale the comforting smell of his car, not having been in his car nor outside for a week now.

Wonjae drives down the empty road to a restaurant near his apartment that’s open early on weekdays. His hand rests just above your knee, his index finger reaching out to pet the cat on your lap. “No work talk today.” He says, looking at you as he parks. “You’re taking a break.” You smile, loving how he already knows how you are.

After you fill your stomachs, you’re on the way to his home. Even more tired now that you’ve ate. Once parked, he grabs his bag as well as yours and leads you into the building and up to his apartment. Unlocking the door, he rests his hand on your back to usher you in where you set Ron down while slipping your feet out of your shoes.

Ron immediately mingles with Wonjae’s three cats who make their way over to the two of you, the four of them following you to Wonjae’s room.

“Do you want to shower with me?” Wonjae asks softly, cupping your cheek into his hand and rubbing the pad of his thumb along the bone. You lean into his touch, kissing his palm. “Yes please.”

“Okay, I’ll go start it.” He rushes to the bathroom and you hear the water being started. You undress yourself, throwing the clothes in the basket he has in the corner of his room. Once you’re completely stripped you push open the bathroom door where you see Wonjae beginning to take off his clothes as well.

After sliding off his shirt he looks at you and smirks. “Mmm,” He hums, pulling you closer to him by your hips. “I missed looking at this.” He leans down and places a kiss on your neck, licking a stripe to your ear and flicking your lobe with the tip of his tongue. It sends a shiver down your spine, your eyes closing in bliss.

He knows your body like the back of his hand, he cherishes every piece of you. He looks at you, smiling. “I’ll fuck you later,” He kisses your lips, lingering for a moment before pulling away.

He finishes undressing and you both get into the shower. He hugs you under the warm water much like he did while you were in his studio but this time it’s much more intimate due to the skin to skin contact. Your breasts press against him, head tucked into his neck. The warm water cascades down your body, causing you to grow tired.

After you both wash up, you find yourself clad in his hoodie and sweats that are just a little big. Wonjae waits for you on the bed, the four cats finding their way to join him. He lays on his back, scrolling through his phone.

You crawl into the bed, snuggling into his side with your head resting on his shoulder. He immediately puts his phone down and rolls over on his side to wrap his arms around you too pull you closer. You feel him breathing in your scent, his legs pushing to get in between yours.

“Jay isn’t letting you back into the studio until tomorrow and I’m forcing you to lay with me all day .” Wonjae mumbles.

You laugh a little, feeling grateful to have such caring people in your life. “Your album can wait for a day. I’ve missed you.” He adds, pulling you even closer to him.

You both fall silent, your eyes closing. You’ve never felt more content and comfortable than how you do now. You feel one of the cats snuggle into your back and purr against you.

“Wonjae,” You began, earning a hum from the half asleep man. “I love you,”

His hand slides under your shirt and gently scratches your back. “I love you.” He says, resting his hand on the small of your back.

You find yourself slowly falling asleep. You know you’re going to be asleep for the whole day and you’re honestly looking forward to it. Especially with Wonjae and the cats.

He’s right, your album can wait.

~♡~

lol i had to write another for wonjae. it’s so hard for me to find fics for him so i jus been writing my own.

#woo wonjae fluff #woo wonjae #aomg woo #aomg reactions #aomg drabbles #aomg imagines #aomg scenarios #woo fluff #woo wonjae smut #woo wonjae scenarios #woo wonjae drabbles #woo wonjae imagines #woo wonjae x reader #woo wonjae tattoos #aomg x reader

[itsallyscorner]

This could be a request or not depending on how much time you have 😅 but for your information, yes, I am thinking Tom giving y/n hickies on her neck like the night before a bunch of interviews the next day and she's like, "Are you serious?" and he's like "I couldn't resist, I just love you so much!" and when y/n shows up the next day wearing a turtleneck after she told Zendaya that she would be wearing a dress Z immediately gets suspicious and figures it out bc I feel like she's like that 😅😂

Hehehe I haven’t written anything smutty lately and I miss it. So thank you for requesting this anon, much love to you🥰 Ugh, the thought of this gave me butterflies in my stomach😭 Happy reading!❤️

Also, little note for everyone who’s sending me requests! Yes, I see all of them! Part of the reason why I haven’t done some of them yet is because I have to think of concepts on how to execute them properly. So bear with me, love you all🥰

💌.

Love Bug

My soft boi🥺

Warnings: implied smut

(Gif from Pinterest)

The AC in your bedroom was just not doing you justice. The Californian heat was at an all time high today and has transformed you home into an Easy Bake oven. Though you were probably exaggerating, your thin crewneck sweater still clung onto your skin, making you uncomfortable. Peeling the sweater off your body, you toss it into your laundry basket. You’re left in a tank top and some lounging shorts as you sprawl yourself out on your bed. The coolness of the comforter bringing your body some relief from the heat.

Sinking into the sheets, the hustle and bustle of the day finally hits you. You’ve had a long day of press with your cast mates, promoting the movie you were all in, Spider-Man: Far From Home. You loved your job, but the press tours could just be so tiring. You were forced to wake up early in the morning and sit in a room for how many hours of the day to only be asked the same questions (most of the time). Though press tours did have its pros, meeting fans around the world and traveling to new countries was something you always looked forward to.

Marvel being Marvel, they always had to make it big. For the last few weeks you have all been traveling around the world, tired but nonetheless having an amazing time. Thankfully, this was the last stop of the press tour, California. You were back in your own bed and your boyfriend was staying with you for the time being.

You were on your phone, going through Instagram and looking at various photos that were taken today during today’s press engagements. You’ve even made your own contribution and posted your own batch of selfies and funny videos.

The door to the connected bathroom in your room opens and reveals your boyfriend. Your eyes break their focus on your phone and shift to the man in front of you. You smile and turn your phone off giving him all your attention. A smile forms on his own lips as he crawls up the bed to join you.

“Missed you all day.” He whispers against your skin, placing his head on your chest. His arms are wrapped around your figure, one leg hooked over yours. You move the hood of his sweatshirt from over his head and began to run your hands through his hair.

“Mmm, I missed you too.” He cuddles closer to your chest, arms tightening around you. His eyes momentarily shut, basking in your soothing motions.

“How was your day with Jake?” You ask him. As much as Tom wanted to do press with you, he was stuck doing them with Jake, while you did your interviews with Z and Jacob. Tom enjoyed having his interviews with Jake, but he missed being near you, even if you were just a room away.

Tom shifts so his lips are near the skin of your exposed neck. He hums against you before his lips come into contact with the soft surface. He had been tempted to mark you up all day. You wore a beautiful spring dress with a low neckline that displayed the skin of your neck. All he wanted to do was scatter red and purple love bites all over you, letting the world know you were his.

You gasp as he nips on the space between your neck and shoulder. “Interviews were good, but I just couldn’t get you out my head.” He slots himself between your legs and presses you down into the mattress.

“Teasing me with the pretty little dress of yours. Just wanted to kiss you and mark you up.” He says huskily against your neck. His breath sent shivers down your spine as goosebumps formed on your skin. His mouth sucks harder on the spot, teeth nipping gently, while his tongue soothed the bruising spot. He moved up so one of his hands are holding him up beside your head while his other strokes your side.

“Baby, we have an early morning tomorrow.” You didn’t want him to stop, but it was currently 2am and you were both expected to be awake by 6am.

His lips have made their way to the other side of you neck, pressing light kisses that turned to open mouthed ones. You giggle gently pulling him away from your neck so you can look him in the eyes.

“Babyyy.” He whines trying to shove his head back into the spot. A pout is on his lips, which were now a darker shade of pink from how much he was sucking on your skin.

“Tom, we need to be up at six.” You reminded him. Tom leans closer a boyish grin now on his expression. You couldn’t help but kiss him back when his lips captured yours. You feel him smirk against you as he pulls away.

The hand on your side moves to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. “We’ll be quick, I just wanna feel you. Please?”

You stare at him for a moment as his hand drifts down your body and by your shorts. Excitement swirls in your belly as his fingers get closer to your growing heat. He kisses your cheek as his hand slips past the band of your shorts to cup your mound. The wetness brings a smirk to his face as his dark eyes gaze into yours.

“Baby, look how wet you are.” He praises you as he moves your panties aside and dips his fingers into your wetness. You sigh, eyes slightly rolling back as his fingers spread your wetness on your folds.

“Fine, but—“ You bring your finger to point again him, “No marks on my neck, I’m wearing a dress tomorrow with a low cut again.”

Tom nods connecting your lips again, “Don’t worry, don’t worry, I’ll be careful.” He assures you before diving his head back into your neck.

~next morning~

You enter the bathroom, tying your hair up to keep it away from your face. You turn the shower on and wait for the water to warm up. While you wait you take a look at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes widen when you get a glimpse of you neck. You gasp out loud as you see the sides of your neck with red bruises with hints of purple on them. You had them on both sides of your neck and a small one almost on the center of your throat.

“TOM!” You yell, your voice echoing in the bathroom. There was some rustling behind the door before it was yanked open. Tom entered in nothing but his boxers looking disheveled, hair pointing in all types of direction and his eyes barely open.

“What happened?” His voice was raspy, something that usually made you swoon but right now you couldn’t even focus on it.

You turn to him, aggressively pointing to your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful!” You mock him, repeating what he said to you last night before he railed you into the mattress.

Tom’s eyes widen as well before he cringed. To be fair, you did warn him. He just didn’t know how to hold back when it came to you. He cautiously approaches you a sheepish grin on his face.

“I know it looks bad..” he begins. You shoot him a look, “Are you serious right now? Tom it looks like an octopus strangled me!”

Tom moves back to look at you, “Well you weren’t complaining last night.” You shoot him another look and he nods knowing you were annoyed with him at the moment. He stands behind you looking at the mirror you were both in front of. His arms wrap around your torso as he tries to soften you up.

“I’m sorry, I just love you so much and I couldn’t resist it. I love making love to you and I just get so lost in it and I know you warned me too, I’m sorry.” He apologizes hugging you from behind. You could tell he actually felt bad by the genuine look in his eyes. You sigh leaning back into him and resting your hands above his, interlocking your fingers.

“I forgive you, it happens.” You mumble, head trying to come up with ways to cover up your neck. “How do I even cover this up?”

Tom looks at your neck through the mirror, “Makeup will work right? Just put on some concealer or that color corrector thing you use.”

You nod at his suggestion. “That’ll work for a few hours, but makeup wears off. What if I accidentally wipe it off?”

Tom pursed his lips together in thought, “You could ask Laura to bring you something with a turtleneck.”

“It’ll barely move and your neck will be covered the entire time.” He suggests.

“Yeah, it’ll probably work. I just hope she hasn’t left yet, I should text her.” You move from Tom’s hold and turn the shower off. Before you leave the bathroom, Tom pulls you into a hug again. His face nuzzles against your hair, “I’m sorry, again.”

You smile and stroke his back, “I told you I forgive you, it’s ok love.” You pull away and peck his lips. Tom smiles and leans down to kiss your shoulder. Something he always did when you guys were having a moment. Instantly, you jump back and push him off, “Get your fucking lips away from my neck. I don’t need anymore hickies right now.”

~later~

Your stylist, Laura, ended up bringing you a stunning white dress that stopped above your knees. It was short sleeved, hugged your curves perfectly, and had a turtleneck that covered your neck. She gave you a pair of leather knee high boots which pulled the look together. Your hair was curled, pulled back into a half up and down style while short strands of hair framed your face. Compared to the panic you felt when your first saw the hickies, you were relieved when you saw yourself in the mirror again an hour later. You felt like a modern Go Go Girl as you admired your outfit.

You arrived at the hotel where all the interviews were being held. You make your rounds of greeting everyone, saving Z and Jacob last since you’ll be with them the whole day. You enter the room and see the two of them already sitting in front of the cameras. Jacob spots you first, “Aye! Good morning!”

You smile and walk up to them, giving them both hugs. When you pull away from Z she gives you a look. Her eyes scan you from head to toe, squinting at your dress.

“Weren’t you just complaining that yesterday was too hot? Why are you in a turtleneck?” She interrogates you. You smile nervously at her while you settle in the seat on the other side of Jacob.

“Um, you know, it’s a bit chilly today.” You lie. Jacob eyes you as well catching on Z’s point.

“(Y/n), it’s 95 degrees outside.” He tells you eyes panning around the room. Zendaya smirks leaning forward to get a better look at you, “I think someone was busy last night.”

“No, I wasn’t. I had a very nice sleep, thank you very much.” You sweetly smile at her crossing your arms.

Jacob snickers beside you, “I bet you did.”

“I guess Thomas couldn’t keep his hands off you last night.” She teased, exposing you.

“Or his mouth.” Jacob quickly adds smirking. Your cheeks get flustered squeezing your eyes shut. Jacob and Z burst out laughing at Jacob’s comment.

“I don’t even have a come back, blame Tom.” You throw your hands up in the air giving up. Z calms down and leans over Jacob to rest a hand on your knee.

“Hey, it’s ok, man. If I were Tom, I wouldn’t keep my hands off you either.” She tells you jokingly, helping you get over the embarrassment of wearing a turtleneck. You catch on and wink at her, “Aye, say less.” Your hand resting on top of hers.

Jacob puts his hands up looking shocked, “What did I just walk into? I—I gotta go.” He pretends to shove your hands away and gets up from his seat.

“I’m telling Tom about the sexual tension I felt in this room.” He yells over his shoulder as he walks out the room. You and Z look at each other amused, “Is he actually?”

Z shrugged, “Honestly, he’s probably getting some water. He was thirsty.”

The two of you catch up with each other. Talking about the press tour and what you were both planning on wearing for the premiere. You were in the middle of describing your dress when Tom bursts into the room with Jacob trailing behind him.

“STAY AWAY FROM MY WOMAN.”

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Tom Holland #Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland smut #tom holland drabble #tom holland one shot #tom holland headcanon #ally’s requests

[mothandpidgeon]

Extra Credit (Professor!Dave York AU)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Professor!Dave York x F Reader

Words: 2865

Rating: VERY E 18+!

Warnings: student/teacher quid pro quo (safe to say this falls under DUB CON so please be careful!!!), spanking, humiliation/degradation, oral sex, orgasm denial, spitting, pussy slapping, biting/marking, p in v sex, Dave York

Summary: With graduation on the horizon, you just have to pass Professor Dave York’s class. But a bad choice on the final assignment leaves your grades in jeopardy. But he’s willing to give you extra credit if you can follow instructions.

a/n: First off, PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU MIND THE WARNINGS. I did not see myself sharing this kind of stuff but I guess I'm freaky like that.

Second, I’m sorry this has the plot of a bad p*rno but sometimes it be like that. Thanks @pascalslittlebrat, @starlightmornings and @mouthymandalorian for encouraging this. It is filth. And thank you P for the gorgeous moodboard!!!!

Also, here is my assignment for the class. What subject do you think Professor York teaches? I was thinking Political Science. Would love to hear your ideas.

It was hot in the lecture hall, one of those early spring days when the weather decided winter was officially over. You had only a few more weeks until graduation and you were white knuckling to the end.

It had been a tough semester. You had your classes to deal with and your motivation was dipping. It wasn’t entirely your fault. You’d had to take on a full time job on top of your studies. Your shitty little car always seemed to be in the shop and your roommate had turned into a psychopath so you slept with one eye open.

Professor York’s class was the hardest you’d ever taken. You liked his style, his dry sense of humor as he lectured. But he was difficult to please. Most professors let their TAs do their the grading but not him. No matter how hard you worked on your papers, you couldn’t wrestle anything higher than a B- from Professor York.

The TA was handing back your papers, the last assignment for the semester, and he placed yours face down in front of you. There was no grade on it just red pen that spelled out see me after class in tight, neat handwriting. Fuck.

You looked up to see Professor York glowering at you from his spot at the front of the hall. You approached him as the other students filed out. You wished you could share their relief that this class was finally done but you had a knot in your stomach.

“Have a seat,” he said, taking the paper from you and tapping it in his palm.

There was a chair next to the professor’s desk and you sat down putting your bag beside you.

“Thanks, Tyler,” he said, dismissing the TA.

When the lecture hall was empty, Professor York sat behind the desk, eyes skimming your paper.

“I wanted to talk to you about this,” he said.

You nodded, too nervous to try speaking.

“This is some great work. This is the kind of essay that really sticks with you after you read it,” he said. His brown eyes were warm and soft and he sat forward in his chair.

You were dumbfounded, your anxiety quickly washing away.

“That’s probably how I know I already read this,” he said, his features suddenly darkening.

Your stomach plummeted into your feet. You were such an ass, thinking you could get away with it.

“I don’t tolerate plagiarism,” he told you.

With everything that had been going on this semester, you didn’t have it in you to complete this final assignment. It wasn’t like you were going to get a good grade anyway. You’d been so exhausted, you hardly cared if you got caught when you’d handed it in. But now that you had to face Professor York, you were kicking yourself.

“I find it highly disrespectful that you would try and pass this off as your work. You know you can be expelled for this?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’ve just had so much work to do-“

“I’m not interested in excuses,” he snapped.

You shut your mouth and felt tears bite at your eyes.

“Are you going to cry?” he asked in disgust. “That’s not going to work on me.”

“Professor, if I fail this class I’m not going to graduate. Please. I’ll do anything to just pass,” you said.

“Anything?”

“Anything,” you said. The word sounded so definitive when it left your lips.

Professor York leaned back in his chair, swiping his finger across his lower lip in thought.

“I can give you extra credit but you have to do exactly what I tell you,” he said.

You were so relieved, you nodded breathlessly.

His lips curled into a smile.

“What color panties are you wearing?” He asked.

Your cheeks set on fire but heat also pooled between your legs. “I- what?” You managed.

“Show them to me,” he commanded.

Your whole body flushed and you stared at him, wide eyed. You had to be dreaming. You’d always found Professor York sexy with that grin and his deep voice but he wouldn’t- this wasn’t happening.

“Do you want extra credit or do you want me to give this paper to your advisor?” He asked, his tone suddenly harsh.

You swallowed hard. Why did his words send a shiver down your spine? You picked up the hem of your skirt and lifted it so Professor York could see between your legs. You looked away, blushing deeply.

He made a guttural noise that made you drop your skirt and clench your thighs together.

“Give them to me,” he said.

Your mouth hung open. He looked completely serious, blinking at you slowly as if this was a casual request. You bit down hard on your lip but finally you relented.

You squirmed out of your panties, being careful that you didn’t give him a show in the process, and placed them in his large, outstretched hand.

He put them to his nose, inhaled, and then squirreled them away in his back pocket, all the while watching you with amusement.

“Stand up. Put your hands on the desk,” he said.

You couldn’t move, sitting there with a gaping mouth. Finally he narrowed his eyes and you did as he said. You put your palms against the table top, aware of the vulnerable way you were leaned over. His eyes moved over your form and he wore the same self-satisfied expression that came when a student asked a stupid question.

Once he was finished admiring your obedience, he stood up and walked behind you. Your heart was pumping wildly as he stepped closer and you could smell his cologne, leather and tobacco.

“I‘ll pass you but I don’t want you thinking you’re getting off easy,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said.

He chuckled and your breath caught. You felt him lift your skirt up, the fabric skimming over your bare ass, and you gasped. He didn’t touch you but he made a noise of approval that shot through you.

“I’m going to hit you five times,” he said into your ear. “You tell me if it’s too much.”

You nodded without even knowing you were doing it. What the fuck was happening? You were standing in the empty lecture hall, bent over, ass out, and desperate to graduate. You couldn’t believe Professor York’s audacity and yet you were going to let him spank you like you were a little girl. It wasn’t like you had a choice, you told yourself.

Before you could make sense of it, his hand connected with you and you let out a grunt. Were you getting wet? You definitely should not be enjoying this.

He hit you again and this time a moan escaped from you. You clamped your hand over your mouth.

“Hands on the desk,” he commanded.

You put it back down and another strike came against you. The sound of his punishment seemed to be echoing off the walls of the empty room.

He pulled your hips into him to steady you as he went on. You loved the feeling of his arm wrapped around your middle, holding you firm.

When he was finished, you were nearly shaking, your pulse quick and your lips parted. You were still reeling not least of all due to the fact that you wanted more.

“Good girl,” Professor York purred smoothing his hand over the spot he’d turned red. His fingers dipped between your legs to feel the slick on your lips. “You’re not going to learn your lesson if you’re enjoying this.”

He came up right behind you so he could wrap his hand around your front and stroke at you. You were thankful your palms were braced against the desk because your knees nearly gave out.

“Professor,” you tried.

“Did I say you could speak?” he asked, a hand gripping your hair.

“What if someone comes in?” Your voice shook.

“Then you’ll have to tell them why you’re failing my class,” he said and continued to play his fingers between your legs.

You whimpered. You could feel his hard length through his pants pressed into the tender flesh of your ass. Your head spun. You knew how fucked up this was but you didn’t want it to end. Professor York’s fingers circled you expertly and you felt like you were melting in his hands. You forgot everything— the circumstances that lead you to this moment, that this was your teacher, that you were exposed in public. Nothing existed except for your pleasure building and building.

As the sensation mounted in you, you began to buck against his hand.

“Are you close?” he asked.

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Good,” he replied and suddenly, his hand was gone.

You cried out in desperation. You clenched at nothing, left at the precipice with no relief. You were throbbing almost painfully. Professor York caught your chin in one of his hands, squeezing your face and wrenching your head around to look at him.

“Do you deserve to cum?” he asked.

You thought you might actually cry between your need for his touch and the fear his voice instilled in you.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

You shook your head.

“No,” he confirmed.

He loosened his grip on you and, for the briefest moment that softness returned to his eyes. You looked at him, eyes glassy and practically drooling, wishing he would touch you again.

“Needy girl,” he chided. “On your knees.”

He pulled you to your feet by the back of your skirt and you got down, bare knees and shins on the tile floor. You gazed up at him, still a little nervous, still pulsing between your thighs.

Professor York undid a few of the buttons of your shirt and skimmed his knuckle across your breast with a hum.

“Maybe I should take this too. Matching set,” he said. He snapped your bra strap which made you jump. “Off.”

He palmed the bulge in his pants as he watched you remove your shirt and unhook your bra. He squeezed one of your tits and pinched your pebbled nipple until you flinched.

“You want to pass?” he asked you, repeating the motion on the other side.

You nodded and he arched an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you said.

“You want to please me?” Now his hand ran gently along your jawline.

“Yes,” you breathed. You’d been trying all this time, studying hard, staying up all night to perfect your papers. Now you had a new goal in mind though you were afraid it was just as unattainable.

“Open your mouth,” he instructed and when you did he spit into it. “Don’t swallow that.”

You stayed like that, with your mouth open as he released himself from his pants. There was a dark patch on his boxer briefs stained by precum. You watched him wildly as he pulled at himself and a glistening bead appeared at his tip. Saliva, yours or his, was dribbling out of the corners of your mouth, dripping on your hard nipples.

“Don’t you look pretty. I hope you can suck cock better than you write papers,” he mocked.

For some reason this was what made your eyes pop. You asked yourself if you were really going to suck off your professor for a good grade. As if you hadn’t just handed him your panties. As if you hadn’t just let him smack your ass. As if your thighs weren’t drenched with your own slick.

He approached you, still stroking himself and you were jealous. You wanted that friction on yourself, were dying for more.

You didn’t have to be told what to do. You wrapped your wet lips around his thick length and your tongue swirled around him.

“Eyes on me,” he demanded.

You looked up at him, and grasped his shaft in your hand as you sunk your mouth around him as far as you could go. Your saliva dripped down his cock pooling in your fist.

“Fuck,” he said.

That word excited you. You kept going, watching him try to keep his eyes open as you surrounded him. The noise of your lips on him was almost disgusting, wet and squelching, and yet it was driving you insane. You clenched your core for some kind of relief that wouldn’t come.

He thrust deeper into your mouth and you tried to take him in but gagged. You pulled away, his cock bouncing out of your mouth and you coughed.

“Good girl,” he said. “Look at you trying to earn that extra credit.”

Tears stung in your eyes as you tried to recover.

“You still want to cum?” he asked, one hand pumping himself slowly.

You nodded timidly. More than anything in the fucking world. But you didn’t want to seem too eager, aware that he was ready at any moment to rescind the offer.

“Sit on the desk,” he said and you did. “Greedy little brat.”

Professor York slid your skirt up your thighs and that sensation alone felt erotic. He inserted two fingers into your mouth and you sucked them hungrily while he grinned.

He slid them across your folds and you were already so sensitive your back arched. He surprised you by getting down on his knees, opening your legs and throwing your thighs over his shoulders. You leaned back on your hands, laid out across the desk, fully on display.

You heard a noise in the hallway and gasped, your head snapping towards the door. But your attention was immediately drawn back to Professor York when you felt him smack you between the legs.

“Do you want to cum or not?”

“Please,” you begged.

He gave you a dark smile and then began nipping at the inside of your thighs. When he got closer to your center, he bit and sucked hard. You let out a breath, a mix of pleasure and pain.

“When you think about this later, I want you to touch yourself and look at this,” he said, swiping the pad of his thumb over the welt he’d just left there.

You let out a shuddering breath and he began to nibble at your clit between his lips. When your hand automatically shot into his hair, he grabbed you by the wrist and removed it, holding your palm against the desk. His tongue lavished you, churning you into a frenzy, and it didn’t take long before you were back where you’d been before. You were panting and grinding your hips into him.

This time he let you hit your high and you trembled and thrashed as he worked at you. It felt like you’d been wiped out by a wave, not being able to sense up from down. You were mewling and shaking when you finally begged him to stop, overwhelmed and cloyed.

He stood and wiped you from his chin and then said, “I’m going to fuck you now.”

You nodded frantically. He pushed into you and you were sure he could feel you still fluttering around him. You were wetter than you could ever remember but still he was difficult for you to take and you inhaled sharply. He didn’t seem to care, snapping his hips into you and grunting, one hand balling your skirt in his fist against you. Soon, though, you were lost in the sensation of his thrusts.

You didn’t even realize that you were whining loudly as he fucked you, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Professor York took your panties from his pocket and shoved them in your mouth to stifle your cries.

“You’re going to have to quiet down,” he rasped.

You whimpered against the fabric in your mouth and he smiled wickedly. He put his hand around the back of your neck to draw you in closer and he pressed into you faster and faster. He pulled out and you heard your own muffled moan at the loss of him. He worked at himself, spilling over your thigh and on your skirt with a groan.

Both of you took a moment to catch your breath and you watched as the professor leaned over you on his hands, swallowed, and then stood up, as composed as ever. He laughed quietly to himself as he took the panties out of your mouth and smoothed his hair.

“Put your clothes on. I have another class to get to,” he said, handing you a handkerchief and zipping himself up. He slid your panties back in his pocket.

You felt shaky on your feet after you’d mopped up his spend. You got dressed wondering how you were going to get through the rest of the day commando, with a ruined skirt, and the remnants of your professor’s cum drying onto your skin. He didn’t say anything else. You hooked your bag over your shoulder and Professor York looked you up and down one last time. He handed you back your essay. It was soaked through down the middle and you realized you’d been sitting on it on the desk. At the top was a new note in red pen: see me after graduation and his phone number.

You got an A.

-----

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