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nickfowlerrr · 9 months

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i never thought you’d happen to me - 2

part one / part three

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, bit of angst. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. some morally dubious homemade porn viewing 💀. if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!

words: 6.7k

notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card. fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think!

Back at the house, your house, you wander around the living room as Bucky sits on the tablet in the kitchen, consumed by whatever it is he's looking through.

You stop at the large bookshelf that's screwed into the wall, the picture frames all around catching your attention.

You smile at the baby pictures of the twins, admiring their tiny faces as you and Bucky each hold one, looking down at them like they were the only things in the world that mattered. You note how close you are to Bucky in the photo, practically in his lap as you lean into him.

Your eyes drift down the case before landing on a gorgeous shot, breathtaking, really.

You're in white, the elegant dress you don seemingly straight out of your dreams as you recline into Bucky who stands behind you, his arms around your waist as your hands cover his. You're smiling as he appears to be whispering something in your ear, a smile of his own evident as he does.

It's intimate and delicate and it seizes your heart as you can't seem to take your eyes off of it.

Your mind can't seem to make sense of it, though.

How do you get from here to there? How can you ever have this life? It seems so unreal.

Bucky can’t stand you more than half the time, he's made that fact abundantly clear. So how the hell does he go from that to this? What changes? Why?

The sound of your name being called gets your attention as you wipe at your welling eyes. You hadn't noticed it happening, but you felt it when you finally blinked and looked away from the photo.

"Yeah?"

"My card is linked to this thing apparently, I was gonna order food."

"Okay," you breathe.

"What do you want?"

"I don't care. Whatever is fine," you brush off as you finally turn around and meet his eye. "I'm gonna shower."

He doesn't respond, but he doesn't take his eyes off of you either, watching you intently as you pass him and walk back to the room.

----

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The car ride back to the house seemed longer without the twins there to distract you from your close proximity to Bucky. And being alone together once you finally got back, despite the huge space allotted to you in this house, still seemed stifling. There was a growing tension between you that was more than ready to break.

You weren’t unfamiliar with the feeling.

It seemed to be ever present when you two were around each other and only intensified the longer you were alone with one another.

As you began undressing, starting the water for your shower, your mind wandered to the last time you found yourself in such close quarters with him.

You were both beyond exhausted when you’d gotten back to the tower after your mission. It hadn’t gone as smoothly as anyone would have hoped, but you got the job done, if not just a little worse for wear.

You were leaning against the right side of the elevator, facing the door as Bucky stood closer to the left side, facing the same direction as you. It was quiet, and though your body was sore beyond belief, you mentally chided yourself for not just taking the stairs. You’d just finished giving him a piece of your mind after he made yet another unhelpful comment about how you could have easily avoided being flung down a flight of stairs earlier.

Crazy as it might have seemed, receiving a play by play of every tiny misstep you’d taken after a mission as grueling as that one didn’t go over too well with you. Especially as you stood with bandaged ribs, miscellaneous cuts, bumps, and bruises all over your body, and what you were sure was a concussion causing the throbbing in your head.

You closed your eyes as you let your head rest against the wall, one hand on the rail and the other holding your duffel.

A sudden jerking had your eyes snapping open as you held tighter to the railing to keep your balance, the light above shutting off briefly before a dimmer one returned as the elevator completely stopped moving.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you groused under your breath before sinking down to the floor in utter exhaustion. The elevator had been on the fritz since before you had even left for the mission last week, you assumed they would’ve gotten it fixed by the time you returned. Clearly you were wrong.

You watched as Bucky hit random buttons on the panel in front of him in a vain attempt to get the thing to move again. You wanted to say something snarky but just sighed exaggeratedly instead. After a moment, still no words spoken between either of you, Bucky took out his emergency phone and called for help.

You didn’t pay much attention to his conversation as the pressure in your head grew, but his next words caught your attention completely.

“What the hell do you mean an hour?” he nearly growled into the phone.

You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation well but there were only so many people he could have called at this hour that would be able to help and the snicker that made its way through the line had you betting on Stark.

He hung up and chanced a glance to you, meeting your gaze. “Might be a while,” he huffed before looking away.

He approached the doors of the elevator and you winced at the sound they emitted as he pulled them open slightly. He was greeted by nothing but the walls of the elevator shaft before he allowed the doors to close again. You watched as he checked the time on his phone before he sat down himself. You let your eyes shut again, your tiredness winning out in the quiet settling over you. It was maybe ten minutes later when you were rudely awoken by Bucky.

You were impressed with his bravery because you could still feel your irritation roiling off of you from your earlier exchange. Your eyes were still closed when you felt his fingers brush against the bruise on your jaw.

“What?” you asked harshly, swatting his hand away from you as you shot daggers at him with your glare.

“Considering how often you find yourself in the med bay, you’d think you’d know the basics of what not to do when it comes to head trauma.”

“Jesus Christ, you just never fucking stop, do you,” you huffed before snapping completely. “I get it, Bucky, okay? I’m a fuck up, I’m reckless and careless and I don’t think before I act, is that what you wanna hear? Are you happy now? I admit it! I’m everything you say I am. But at the end of the day, I have never put you or anyone else in harm’s way. And just a reminder, I got the files and took out everyone I needed to along the way by myself. So I don’t know, maybe give me a little fucking credit for once,” you raged, the pain in your body only adding to your anger.

“This isn’t about me or the mission getting done or anyone else,” he fired back, his tone catching you off guard, though you refused to show it, “I’m never worried about any of that. But you are careless. Look at you! You put yourself in needless danger over and over again, and yeah, it pisses me off. You always end up hurt when you never should have been in the position to get hurt to begin with. You think I enjoy seeing you like this? I’m your partner, I’m the one who’s supposed to have your back and yet every assignment, you continue to go out of your way to make it damn near impossible for me to do.”

“Your job isn’t to keep me from getting hurt,” you deflected, not wanting to focus on the way his words were making you feel as you flicked your eyes away from his burning blue ones. It was too confusing. A mix of care and chastation you were having trouble processing at once.

“And yours isn’t to get killed in some pathetic attempt to prove yourself,” he shot back before his tone quieted significantly. “You have nothing to prove,” he finished.

Your gaze softened at that, a sense of embarrassment coming over you at how clearly he saw through you; The simultaneous feeling of validation his last words offered had the previous tension you felt in your anger lightening before you let your eyes slowly return to his.

There was a thick silence between you as you looked at one another, nothing but your slowing breaths to be heard. His gaze wasn’t as harsh now, but it still took a lot out of you to hold it. The intensity his eyes held was unmatched. You hadn’t realized before, how much closer he had gotten to you, but it was evident now as you nearly felt yourself buzzing - suddenly all too aware of everything in the confined void you’d found yourselves in.

And then, you couldn’t say why or how, but you found your eyes falling to his lips. A stuttered breath leaving you as inadvertently leaned in a bit closer to him.

That wasn’t you, though, you’d realized after a split second, one hand reaching up to hold the rail.

The elevator jolted a bit as it began to move again, only a few seconds passing before the ding signaling its arrival at the top floor sounded. You were still looking at one another, maybe more intensely than you’d realized, when the doors slid open.

“Uh-oh, did I interrupt something? Let me guess, lover’s quarrel?”

Your gaze quickly turned into a glare as you both turned to see Tony waiting at the doors for you.

You rolled your eyes and got up as quickly as you could, trying to hide your winces of pain as you did.

“Fuck off,” you said as you brushed past him.

“Is that your catchphrase now?” he called after you, “Ya know, I like it, it suits you.”

You remember how embarrassed you were after that night, praying that Bucky hadn’t noticed where your eyes had drifted to, or if he did that he’d have the decency to pretend he hadn’t. You’d chalked it up to a moment of weakness. You weren’t stupid enough to expect him to return your (very well kept to yourself) feelings. You never expected anything out of him, and honestly you’d been trying to shake them yourself since you’d been partnered up. You avoided him for a good week straight after that night, and neither of you has brought it up since.

Even now, you could pretend all you wanted that those feelings didn’t exist, but deep down, you knew they were alive and well. And clearly, as you looked again at the picture of you and Bucky sitting on the bedside table, it wasn’t something you could believably go on denying much longer.

The shower helped. Kind of. You feel better physically, but your mind is still dead set on trying to figure out the future. You take your time drying off and getting into a clean pair of pajamas while Bucky waits in the kitchen.

He's scrolling through every app he can, trying to piece together his future as it stands. And if he's being honest, trying to figure out how the hell he was able to get you to stop hating him. How he was able to get you to fall in love with him..

He opens up the photo library, grinning as he sees photo after photo of the twins, and some family photos, pictures of you, pictures of him, intermingled in.

He backs out of the gallery and scrolls down mindlessly through the albums. His eyes land on the "Hidden" tab and he clicks on it without too much thought, his face unlocking it and granting him access.

His eyes go wide, his mouth goes dry at the images that liter the screen.

He should close out, look away, something, but he doesn't. The scandalous photos grab him and he just can't. One icon in particular catches his eye and he clicks on it without thinking, the video playing instantly.

He watches the screen intently, hunching over the tablet as he holds it tightly in his hands. Sees himself leave from in front of the camera, his movement revealing you as you wait for him on your bed. You're peering up at him attentively as he approaches you before you spare a glance to the camera and then back to him. A soft smirk playing on your lips as he towers over you, causing you to look up further and further as you recline until you’re on your back.

“Hi,” you simper breathily, earning a smirk from him in return.

“Hi,” he breathed, leaning ever closer.

He watches as you scoot back on the bed and he follows you, his hands tracing down your curves, fingers playing with the material of your lingerie before he drops his head and begins trailing kisses from the softness of your stomach, up your sternum and along your neck before finally your lips meet.

Bucky is completely enraptured in the scene playing out before his very eyes. He’s sitting here feeling jealous of himself as you run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you before you bring a leg up around his hip, arching your body into his own.

It’s sensual at first but you both seem to grow impatient quickly as your kissing heats up and becomes more and more hungry.

Finally, you slip a hand down and tug at the waistband of his boxers until he pulls away.

Bucky can see your face perfectly, your eyes are dark as you push yourself up onto your forearms, watching him.

Instead of ridding himself of his boxers right away, he slowly, teasingly drags your silky underwear down your thick thighs as you watch him with heavy eyes, your legs spread just for him.

“Look at the camera,” he hears his own voice command.

Your eyes flick from him to the lens as Bucky swallows thickly, still completely unable to look anywhere but you.

You gasp suddenly as he quickly buries his face between your thighs, your fingers tightening in his hair as your head lolls back some. Your soft moans begin tumbling past your lips as he focuses his attention solely on you, devoted and unrelenting as you mewl and writhe under his ministrations.

When a whimper of his name leaves you, it causes Bucky to shift in his seat, trying to ease the ache growing in his shorts as he watches you rock yourself against his face.

“Buck,” you moan, “please,” you whine with a tug of his hair.

He watches as your toes curl, feet arching, and your entire body seems to tense around him, your eyes squeezing shut as your mouth hangs open until your legs quake and you let out a tight, shaky whimper on an exhale. You bite your knuckle in an attempt to keep yourself quiet while he continues working you through your orgasm.

When he finally lets up and gives you a chance to collect yourself, he moves up your body, finding your lips as he kisses you again, leaving you even more breathless than you had been.

“It’s just you and me tonight, doll. Don’t hold back on me,” he kisses you again, his hands going around your back to undo your bra. “I’m gonna wanna hear you when I watch this back,” he smirks.

You're completely naked as Bucky stands before you, finally taking off his boxers. “Turn around for me,” he tells you.

You do as he says, getting on all fours with him situated perfectly behind you. He angles you both so the camera has a better view. Bucky watches as he teases your entrance with his tip, over and over again as you whine and wiggle your ass in pure desperation for him.

He keeps the volume low as he lets the video play, he isn’t sure how much time passes as his eyes are glued to the screen, watching himself take you as you let him. He listens to how prettily you cry for him, to the salacious sounds of his cock driving into you over and over, the wet squelching mixing with the slapping of skin as he fucks you hard.

Bucky feels his cock twitching in his shorts as he watches you come for him before hearing himself groan deeply, moaning while he empties his load into your pretty cunt.

He watches the come down, sees himself running his hands along your skin, peppering kisses all over your body, before you roll over beneath him, pulling him down to you and kissing him desperately.

He is entirely unsure about the morality of this all, but he can't look away.

"Fuck, you're amazing," he breathes heavily as he pulls away from you just so. "Thank you, sweetheart," he grins lazily, stroking your cheek.

"Mmm,” you hum contentedly as you look up at him before continuing, “If anyone ever sees this, I'll kill you," you promise him with an 'I mean it' stare before pulling him back to you, crashing your lips together.

"No one'll see it, doll. I promise. For my eyes only," he says as he nuzzles into you. "You have no idea how much I miss you when I'm gone, baby."

"I think I have some idea," you respond, the sultry tone of your voice effortless as you wrap a leg around him.

It looks like you're about to go for another round, and the thirty minutes left in the video seem to confirm that thought, when Bucky hears the door of the bedroom finally opening.

He quickly closes out of the video, sliding the tablet away from himself before trying to hide and adjust his very obvious erection before you come in.

He clears his throat loudly, a bit awkwardly, as you enter the kitchen, earning a questioning brow from you as you walk toward the pizza box.

"You good?" you ask him as you grab a slice, not bothering with a plate.

He nods a bit too stiffly for your liking as you assess him. His cheeks are a little flush and he can't seem to look you in the eye.

"What did you do?" you question accusatorily.

"Nothing. I'm gonna shower now, if that's alright with you?" he questions haughtily.

You make a face at his tone, rolling your eyes as you turn around to grab a glass for water.

He doesn't mean for it to happen, but as you turn from him, his eyes fall to your ass, and he has to work to stop the groan that threatens to tumble from his lips as his mind replays the video for him.

Fucking creep, he chides himself as his cock twitches again. He takes the opportunity to stand and get to the bathroom as your back is to him.

---

You're on your third piece of pizza when Bucky returns to the kitchen, grabbing a slice for himself.

He's spent the last half hour going over in his mind exactly how you two could have possibly ended up here. He's still confused. And at his wit’s end.

Bucky speaks before he can think better of it.

"Why do you hate me?" he asks, seemingly out of the blue, causing you to turn toward him with quizzical eyes as you swallow your bite.

"Excuse me?" you ask in disbelief.

"Why do you hate me?" he repeats himself, his gaze never faltering as he holds your stare.

You're honestly dumbfounded.

You sputter for a second before attempting to form actual words. "I don't hate you, Bucky," you answer as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And seeing your future, you were pretty sure it must have been. "I mean, clearly," you add a little embarrassed for yourself.

"No? Then why do you act like you do?"

"I -,” you’re about to deny the accusation, but truthfully, you know he’s right. So you pause before giving the only answer you can come up with. “I don't know. Self-preservation?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Defense mechanism. I mean, you've been a complete dick to me since day one, Bucky. Am I supposed to just let you ream me whenever you feel like it - justified or not. And for the record, most of the time, it's not. You treat me differently from everyone else, sidelining me over nothing, questioning my every move, and I don't know why but I stopped trying to figure it out a while ago," you spoke candidly.

He was quiet for a minute as he took in your words. You watched as his brows furrowed, his gaze dropping as he licked his lips mindlessly.

"I'm sorry," he finally said at last. It was soft, but sincere as a pained look seemed to have taken over his face. "I never meant to make you feel that way. But clearly I did. It's just.. you're so stubborn," he says with a shake of his head as his eyes meet yours once again. "I do treat you differently. Because, truthfully, you fucking terrify me. You can be reckless; you act like you're expendable, and you're not. You're the furthest thing from it. I just don't want to see you get hurt. And maybe I was too scared to actually voice that aloud before, but it is the truth. I don't know, I guess, I thought I was keeping you safe somehow, protecting you. And I know you don't need me to. I'm sorry. For being a dick, for interfering when I shouldn't have, and for not talking to you about things before. I am sorry."

You’re silent and quietly awed at his admission, swallowing hard before forcing yourself to break away from his brilliant blue gaze.

"Thank you," you accept, not knowing where to go from here. "Good to know you don't hate me," you add.

"Yeah, same here," he smiles softly. Another moment passes before you speak again, something unspoken growing between you.

"So, just to be clear, was that you admitting that...you like me?" you ask, hearing how juvenile you sound but not really caring all that much.

"That was me admitting that I care about you."

You take a breath and nod, "Oh, okay. So, you don't like me?"

"I didn't say that," he almost scoffs.

"So you do like me?" you ask again with a furrowed brow.

"Jesus, doll," he laughs lightly, "We're married."

"Not yet," you counter.

Bucky walks toward you, pizza long forgotten by you both as he suddenly gets to his knees before you while you stay seated in the chair, his face right about level to yours as you watch him with stilled breath.

His eyes are blazing a fiery blue as he holds your gaze. You have to blink at the intensity.

"I like you," he breathes quietly, careful not to break the soft air of intimacy as you stay so close to each other, earning a small smile from you in turn.

"I told Kate I had a crush on you during recruitment, that's why she always makes comments about us going on missions together so often," you admit unprompted, the urge to tell him the embarrassing secret you'd tried to keep hidden from the moment you let it slip to Kate just overcoming you.

Bucky smiles boyishly at that. "Steve was convinced from the beginning I had a thing for you, that's why we go out on missions together so often."

You can't fight the half smile that adorns your lips at his words, "Was he right?" you question.

He nods.

"He was right," he whispers as he leans in closer to you. "Does our future not make that obvious?" he teases.

You don't think as you lean into him, one hand finding the back of his head and raking your fingers through the soft, dark brown strands as you breathe a bit heavier with anticipation, you watch as his eyes close at your touch, leaning ever closer. You’re sure he can hear the uptick of your heart as he meets your gaze once again, before your eyes flit to his lips.

You shrug, a playful tilt to your lips.

"I can think of some other things that might make it more obvious," you murmur as you let your forehead press against his own, waiting for him to close the distance between your lips now.

His hand comes up to gently hold your face before he slowly brushes his lips against yours.

It's soft and gentle as you kiss him again, but after a moment, one kiss turning into another and then another, your lips press harder against each other, hotter as it intensifies, your hand gripping his hair ever so slightly as he kisses you back just as hard before finally you force yourself to break away.

You shudder a breath as you part, catching your breath, but neither of you drop your hands.

Bucky's thumb gently strokes your cheek as you gaze into one another's eyes. So much unspoken, and yet so much being shared with the look alone.

The ringing of the tablet breaks you two up, though, as a FaceTime call pops up.

The contact is Natasha and seeing her name has you grabbing for the tablet and accepting the call right away.

"Hey," she greets as the sound of a movie playing in the background mingling with the giggles of children and fake cries for help from Steve can be heard just beyond her smoky voice.

"Hey, what's up? Did something happen?" you ask, hoping you don't sound as uncharacteristically panicked as you feel.

"That's what I was gonna ask you two. There a reason your daughter keeps twirling around shouting 'fucking dick' into the air every ten minutes?" She asks.

Your brows raise in surprise as your mouth parts open on nothing.

Bucky titters at the thought of that precious angel twirling around with a mouth like a sailor - a mouth like her mother. He smirks, answering for you.

"Yeah, that'd be thanks to her mother over here."

"Why am I not surprised," Nat responds.

"Sorry, she was mimicking me this morning and we didn't tell her to stop," you grimace. "Hey, can you put them on really quickly?"

"Yeah, that's actually the real reason I called. They wanted to say goodnight before they go to bed," she says as she walks into the living room.

"Linc, El, got some folks who wanna talk to you over here."

Your eyes light up as their perfect little faces fill the screen as Nat holds her phone for them.

When they register it's you and Bucky on screen, they smile brightly, calling out to you both.

"Hi, munchkins," you smile at the screen, Bucky right beside you.

"You guys getting ready for bed?" he asks.

"We're ready, Daddy! Just have to say goodnight to you and Mommy."

"Yeah we have to say goodnight so - and then we can sleep,"

You chuckle as Lincoln rubs his tired eyes.

"But I miss you Mommy," he pouts at the screen.

"'S okay, Linc," Ellie says as she takes her brother's hand, comforting him easily. You swear you're on the verge of tears as you smile at the sweetness.

"Sweetheart, I miss you, too. We miss both of you very much. But you guys are gonna have so much fun tomorrow! And we'll see you so soon, I promise. You two be good and listen to your Aunt and Uncle, okay? Oh, and Ellie,” her eyes widen as you say her name, looking attentively at your face on screen, “let's keep 'fucking dick' just an at home thing, alright?"

She giggles at your words but nods, "Okay, Mommy."

"Alright, goodnight you two," you say softly, not sure you’re ready to call it a night with them knowing what tomorrow is promised to bring.

"Goodnight, Mommy. I love you," they respond in unison.

"I love you more."

"Daddy's turn!" Linc calls for his father.

"Goodnight, Daddy," he says when Bucky leans further into the frame before you hand him the tablet to hold completely.

"Goodnight, Daddy," Ellie smiles.

"I love you," they say, again in unison. The sound is the cutest thing you've ever heard.

"Goodnight, guys. I love you more," he finishes with a soft, almost sad smile of his own before they run off the couch and chase Steve out of the room with the other kids. Nat offers you both a goodnight and a happy anniversary, parting with a wink before she hangs up.

"Those are ours," you say after a moment, astonishment lacing your tone.

"Yeah," Bucky chuckles. "We made those little punks."

"Ya know, I don't think we did too bad considering it's our first day."

"No, we were great. Naturals. They had absolutely no clue we'd never known them before today."

You laugh at that before the silence grows between you again. It's not something unusual for you guys, but the hot tension mounting in this moment in particular certainly is.

Bucky is still kneeling beside you, his large hand settled on your thick, plush thigh.

You scoot back, your weight pushing the chair. The movement allows his hand to smooth over your skin, sending sparks through you and raising goosebumps under his touch.

You try to pretend that it didn't send sparks alight in your belly as you move back further and stand, Bucky turning his gaze to follow your movements.

The sight of him on his knees before you, looking up at you with those devout blue eyes, it has your stomach fluttering as you take a deep breath.

He stands after a second, towering over you once again, somehow even closer now as you look up at him.

"What now?" you whisper.

"That's up to you, doll," he responds, voice lower than you've heard it before, his warmth radiating off of him and into you.

You see his hand twitch by his side, like he's holding himself back from reaching out and touching you again.

"Well," you swallow, "they said it's our anniversary, right?"

"Mhm,"

You raise your brows, shrugging the tiniest bit as you nervously lick your lips.

"You wanna celebrate?" you ask, your voice a little tight and heady as you flick your gaze back up to the darkening oceans of his eyes.

His lips crash into yours without another word, his speed catching you off guard as you gasp into his mouth. Bucky lifts you up like you weigh absolutely nothing and your legs circle around him as he holds you up, his lips never ceasing as he walks you out of the kitchen.

You only part to catch your breath, your forehead against his as he strides into the bedroom, your heavy breaths intermingling. Your hands are in his hair as your arms are wrapped around his neck.

He sets you down on the bed before backing away, granting you space you didn't ask for. You look at him, clearly not happy with the distance he'd put between you. Before you can say anything, Bucky speaks first.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" he asks intensely.

You look at him for a moment, hoping he can see the sincerity in your eyes. "If I'm being completely honest, Bucky, I've wanted you from the moment I met you. I wanna do this," you answer him. "I'm sure. Are you?"

Bucky pulls off his shirt as you breathe a sigh of relief, a soft titter escaping you as you watch him. He steps closer to you, taking your face in his hold, kissing you deeply. “I’m more than sure,” he speaks against your lips before pushing you back on the bed. The move has a scene playing in his mind and has him hesitating from going further as shame creeps up on him.

“I-,” he squeezes his eyes shut as he thinks through what he’s about to admit to, “I need to tell you something first.”

“What?” you ask, worry clear in your voice.

“I, well.. Hold on,” he says before getting up and leaving you sitting on the bed confused and concerned.

Bucky returns with the tablet in hand as you eye him.

He looks like a kid about to confess his wrongdoings, eyes down on the tablet as he approaches you slowly.

“I, uh. I came across this, and.. Uhm,” he clears his throat, “I,” he takes a heavy breath, “I.. watched.. it.” he says stuntedly. “Well, not all of it, but more than I should have..”

You’re confused as he hands the tablet over to you, but take it with a quirked brow.

An image of Bucky shirtless is on the screen and you trepidatiously hit the play button, wondering what the video could possibly be.

Your eyes go wide as you see yourself on the bed in lingerie, Bucky sporting nothing more than a pair of tight boxers. You look up at Bucky still standing before you as a blush grows on his cheeks. You watch, still wide eyed as it goes on. You’re on your back, Bucky leaning over you, and god help you, there’s a tingling in your core growing as you look on.

“No way,” you say in disbelief as it suddenly connects in your mind, eyes flicking back and forth between him and to the screen. “Is this-? Did we-? And you watched it?” you ask, scandalized as your gaze shoots back up to him.

He rubs the back of his neck self consciously, avoiding your gaze. “I know,” he says sheepishly - you’ve never seen him like this and it’s honestly a little entertaining, a bit endearing. “I’m-” your moan coming from the speaker cuts him off and grabs your attention as you look back down at the screen, mouth going dry as your core is anything but.

“Fuck,” you breathe as you watch Bucky on his knees, between your legs. You almost stop breathing before you look away, catching yourself and pausing the video. “Uhm. Well, that’s- this is.. Unexpected. I mean, obviously we- they- have.. sex, but, a sex tape?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have watched it, especially not as far as I did, and I just-”

“How far did you watch?” you ask, cutting him off.

You watch as he swallows hard before sitting down next to you, taking the tablet and scrolling to about the point he had stopped when he closed the video.

“Twenty five minutes?” you ask with a light laugh, looking at the time stamp, the screen paused on a still of you pulling him down on top of your naked body.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, clearly ashamed of himself. You can’t help but laugh, loving how remorseful he seems.

“‘S’okay,” you say with a light shake of your head, pulling the tablet from his hand and locking the screen, tossing it on the opposite side of the bed. It’s not until you straddle his lap that he looks at you finally, his hands coming up without thought to hold your waist. His eyes twinkle with something akin to wonder. “I get it, can’t blame you,” you admit, your arms draped over his broad shoulders before slipping them behind his neck. “It’s hot,” you speak sultrily, leaning closer to him, allowing your lips to brush his briefly.

His eyes fall to your lips as he breathes headily, pulling you flush to him as he holds you tighter. “You think?”

“Mhm,” you nod, your chest brushing against his bare one with your every breath before you finally let yourself kiss him once again, your noses brushing against one another.

His arms still holding you, Bucky turns you both onto the bed, ending up above you as you continue your soft makeout. His hands wander your body, touching and squeezing your softness lightly as you sigh under him, your hands wandering his body in turn. You feel like a teenager, experiencing something you’d only thought about in the far recesses of your mind for the first time, it’s intimate and exciting and you don’t even care to take this any further, your focus only on feeling each other, on being this close.

The ringing of the tablet, though, breaks through the moment. You glance over as Bucky continues kissing you, his lips on your neck as you try to read the screen - but it’s too far and out of your reach.

“Bucky,” you urge him, causing him to finally break away from you, turning to look at who was calling.

His eyes squint as he sits up, reaching for the tablet and answering the call.

“Steve?” he answers in question.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, Buck. Linc’s having a hard time going to sleep, he wanted to talk to you again, I told him I’d give you a call.”

“Yeah, yeah, put him on,” he responds.

There’s a sniffle before Lincoln’s soft voice comes through the speaker, “Daddy?”

“Hey, buddy, it’s me. What’s going on, having trouble sleeping?” he asks, sitting up more attentively as you watch him.

“Miss you,” Lincoln answers solemnly, you can imagine him rubbing at his teary eyes already as you hear him sniffle again, your heart clenching at the image. “I need Wolfie, Daddy. You forgot to bring Wolfie,” you can hear his pout over the line.

“I’m sorry, pal,” Bucky apologizes sincerely, despite neither of you having had any knowledge of “Wolfie” being a necessity. “How ‘bout we bring you Wolfie?” he asks before looking over to you briefly.

“Yeah, can you bring him to me please, Daddy?” he puffs.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll bring him right now, buddy. Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“Okay,” he says, voice wobbly. “Love you, Daddy,” he adds breathily on a huff, sounding on the very verge of tears.

“I love you, too, buddy. We’ll be right there.”

“He’s on his way, champ,” Steve says as he takes it off speaker, bringing the phone back to his ear. “Sorry, guys,” he offers to you both.

“Don’t worry about it, we were just, uh,... hangin’ out,” he says, scrunching his face at his own stupid response as you give him a ‘what the hell’ look, your hand gesturing of its own accord.

“Oh-kay,” Steve says at the odd response, “What is up with you guys today?”

“Uhhh,”

“Wait, don’t tell me.. Are you guys expecting again?” he asks, voice hushed.

“Yeah,” Bucky answers stupidly on an exhale, your mouth dropping while you gawk at him.

“Really?”

“No,” Bucky answers quickly again, “I mean, maybe. We don’t- we’re not sure. We don’t know,” he tries to remedy his previous baseless answer. “Look, I have to find Wolfie, so I’ll see ya in a minute.” He doesn’t wait for Steve to respond before he ends the call on his end.

“What the fuck was that?” you say on a titter.

His face is in his hands as he sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, “I don’t know.” His response is muffled by his hands as you crawl over to him, pushing on his back to make him stand up.

“Go get the wolf,” you say as you push on him.

As he stands, you get off the bed, too, throwing his shirt at him before he turns to the door.

“Ya know, you’d think you’d be better at this,” you taunt, earning a glare from him as he heads to the kid’s room down the hall.

“Can you go start the car?” he huffs as you watch him walk away.

You stifle a laugh through your nose, “Mhm,” you answer before heading down the hall yourself, grabbing the keys on your way out.

As you turn to close the front door, you’re surprised as Bucky’s already behind you, the plush white wolf in hand.

“You’re so slow,” he teases, taking the keys from your hand while you blink up at him, a smirk on his face as he passes you while you just watch, your turn to huff.

“Dick,” you accuse as you follow him, his smirk only growing at your insult before he gets to the passenger door, holding it open for you to get in.

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #dad!bucky #mom!reader #bucky x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #the-slumberparty writing challenge

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carascaramouche · 8 months

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hc that even though we know that dick and bruce are like…hot, that all of the robin batboys are just like…ethereal gorgeous. and just like their mothers.

like dick, we already know man’s is gorgeous beyond belief.

jason is more handsome than pretty, but he looks just like his mom when she was younger and perhaps kinder, with long lashes and flush cheeks and plump lips, and looking like an angel when he wasn't about to shoot.

tim is the scary type of beauty. like janet drake, who was ready to cut someones throat in a second, ready to negotiate and ruin someones life with that cold cold smile. like the devil, with beauty that makes everyone around him envious. skinny, pale with blood red lips plump lips, high cheekbones, and a cold smile that makes you fall inlove and know that you're making a great mistake at the same time.

damian is always told how much he looks like a younger bruce, but really he looks a lot like talia. with soft, smooth hair, sharp green eyes like a tiger, pink lips that form a pout when he doesn't get what he wants, and beautiful dark caramel skin that still holds his baby fat, that will be filled with muscle like both of his parents.

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batfam #batfamily #batfam hcs #i very obviously have favourites #its very important to me that tim looks like his mom #and that damian looks like his

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kisses4kaia · 2 months

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jj maybank wants to hate you.

you, with your obscenely expensive lip oil from dior. with that seemingly endless closet filled with the most delicate—fucking exorbitant—fabrics of clothing. you, with all your skirts so short, tops so tight, you were fucking insufferable.

the kook princess, the very symbol of all it is jj would always have to admire from afar, never touch. it made him incensed beyond articulation.

but when you bat your lashes at him at an illegal bonfire on the beach, wordlessly taking the joint from his fingers and pulling a drag, jj seems to forget all about this innate hatred for all things kook.

“you wanna know the truth, jj?” you say sweetly. he’s smirking stupidly down at you, grateful for the dark embers of the fire for casting a dim glow upon the both of you, hiding the flush of his cheeks. “what’s that?” he says, voice a little slurred from the abundance of beers he’s drank.

you press up onto your tippy-toes to whisper in his ear. “i’ve had a huge crush on you for years,” you giggle through the confession, the kush beginning to take effect. it took a moment for your words to register in jj’s head, but when they did, he swore he could feel the blood rushing to his cock.

“yeah?” he grins bigger. you nod with a sweet little ‘mhm’.

that same night, and for so many nights after, jj takes you behind whatever building he can find, bullying his cock into your impossibly tight cunt.

at first, he fucks you with his hatred in mind, the notion of ruining your pristine, tantalizing, onerously gorgeous, body running rampant through his mind. but soon, too soon for his liking, jj comes to realize that he actually cares for you. you were so sweet. not at all obnoxious or needy. now, he found all those things he used to loathe about you endearing.

of course, you knew this was coming. this was the plan from the beginning. contrary to the outsiders belief, you weren’t a dumb kook; you were just really good at pretending to be one.

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 !#first time writing for him who is sheeeeee #jj maybank #kaia writes jj #obx #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #rudy pankow #jj maybank fanfiction

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sunboki · 8 months

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"Can you kiss me?" ⎯ a short Hyunjin fiction

Hwang Hyunjin x gn. reader

• trope. best friends to lovers, comfort

• word count. 0.75k

• warnings. almost smut(nothing detailed), reader’s drunk & wears makeup, dubcon

Hyunjin who, on his saturday night, did not expect to find you stumbling on his doorstep, wasted beyond belief and definitely not in the shape to be out alone so late.

Regarding your mumbling with a cocked brow, the man crosses his arms, nose wrinkling at the smell of alcohol attached to your clothing.

“Uh… You good there?” He questions, aware the answer is definitely no by the look of your smudged makeup and off-balance figure.

Carefully maneuvering you inside without falling over yourself, your best friend finally takes you into his arms, gently leading you to his bed.

“There we go.. Almost there—“ He mutters, helping you hop on the comfy mattress. Propping a pillow behind your head, you find yourself unconsciously leaning into him with your face smushed into his chest, basking in the warmth he emitted.

As for Hyunjin, he’s stunned seated on the edge of the bed by where you sit, freezing when you press against him.

Truth be told, you’re absolutely adorable all cozied up, and if his face didn’t give it away, his rampant heartbeat would.

Eyes dazed as you blink at him, you grace a sleepy smile, admiring the gorgeous man before you.

“Jinnie, I missed you today..” You murmur, and he has to crane to make out what you said, fingers softly threading strands of your hair away from your face. Abruptly, he halts, unable to contain the wobbly smile dancing along plush lips.

“Yeah? I missed you too,” Hyunjin responds, titling his head to fixate on your sweet face.

Testing the words on your tongue, your fuzzy mind debates on speaking up, phrase dancing so delicately on your tongue. Testingly.

“Jinnie,” You repeat, voice barely a whisper. “Can you kiss me?”

Now if saying you missed him shocked the man, asking him to kiss you sealed the deal. Taking a few moments to make sure he heard your right, he stops himself.

Sure he’s thought about it, but never actually considered it(or expected you to either). You’d always been friends, always been close, but never this close. So close, as he peers down at you, that he can see each individual eyelash decorating breathtaking eyes. So close that the urge becomes overwhelming. Because you’re so, so tempting.

He sighs, breath stifling in his chest. And although his control has always been impeccable when it comes to you, tonight, he can’t help himself.

So when your lips part once more, he leans down where you lay, gently tipping your head to the side to have easier access.

You taste of alcohol, and he decides if it were anyone else he would’ve jerked away. But it’s you, and he wouldn’t care even if there was fire surrounding your lips.

Pressing back into the pillow behind your head as he deepens the contact, you sigh between kisses, lips puffy and swollen from where he’s bitten and sucked.

Whining as he tugs on your bottom lip once more, your hands unconsciously find their way unbuttoning your already loosened top.

Quickly pulling away, he sends you a look reading “Are you okay with this?”, which earns frantic nods in return.

At the go-ahead, his fingers replace yours messily work the buttons of your top, small pops sounding between the sinful sound of your lips connecting and the soft whines uttered each time you both separate.

Arching into his touch while hot kisses trail down your collarbone, he attempts to lift the clothing over your head, both dissolving into laughter at his evident struggle.

That was until he became frustrated and resorted to pulling you into his lap instead, fingers dancing along the bare skin of your hips. Simply staying there, admiring you in your dazed glory along with his work decorating your neck, bitten lips and half-lidded eyes.

He can’t seem to get enough.

“‘Keep kissing me and ‘m gonna fall asleep..” As opposed to how much the situation had escalated beforehand, he can’t help but smile at your whisper, landing a small peck on the edge of your lips.

“Mmm, fall asleep when you want, love.” He assures, heart-eyed gaze soaking up the way you begin to sleepily rock.

Hands held in his on either side of you, your head eventually finds itself thumping onto his chest, fast asleep.

And despite how you’re half-naked, mere minutes from taking an entirely new step with him and looking worse for wear with dark mascara running beneath your eyes, Hyunjin’s certain he’s never felt more infatuated with you.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

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justmyguiltyggpleasure · 4 months

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Giselle x Fem Reade - Do Me as a Favor

Summary: Giselle was sick for a few days and missed practice. Having to stay overtime, she was anxious, exhausted, and frustrated. Luckily, you decided to stay behind with her and as her best friend, is your duty to help take her mind off of things.

Dynamics: Top!reader/Bottom!idol

Genre: Smut;

Warnings: +18; oral; fingering; (not much in this one)

Giselle was frustrated, it was always a bit stressful when you had to prepare award ceremony performances, but having missed 3 days of practice due to being sick, she had to make up for the lost time. Which resulted in staying behind after practice ended, she's been doing it for a week and was fed up. She couldn't sleep properly because her mind was always running with things that could go wrong and how the hell was she going to keep up with you girls. She didn't even have the time or energy to get herself off, the sexual frustration plus the exhaustion and anxiety were making her frustrated beyond belief.

- You girls can go ahead, I guess I'll stay behind with Aeri today. I want to go over some steps I'm still not confident in. - Aeri looks at you smiling widely from her sprawled on the floor like a starfish position.

- You're staying with me?!

- Yes, I am. Maybe we can help each other. You seem to have nailed the steps I'm insecure about. - you say, Aeri sits up and nods.

- For sure!

You said your goodbyes to the girls and started practicing right away.

(Almost 2 hours later)

- Let's take a break. - Aeri says pausing the music and taking a sip from her water bottle.

You sit on the floor with your back against the couch, breath harbored and Aeri offers you her water bottle. You thank her and take a big sip, a drop escaping from the corner of your mouth and running down your neck, Aeri follows every movement.

- Can I ask you something? - you nod. - Do me as a favor.

You blink twice before laughing.

- Don't you mean do you a favor?

- No. I mean exactly what I said.

- Is this a joke?

- No... You don't have to tho. Is just... I've been so frustrated lately and way to tired to do anything about it. You've always said I'm pretty so being attractive is not an issue. You've been with girls before and always talk about your crushes in women so I know for a fact you're not strai-

- I'll do it. - interrupting her rambling you answer her request.

- Really?! - her head perked up and you chuckled.

- Are you surprised? I've said it before, you're gorgeous, besides, we trust each other. I just need you to assure me that it won't become a problem between us later. I'm not willing to bet our friendship on some sexual relief. - you end it seriously.

- I promise it won't. I wouldn't bet our friendship on anything.

- Good. Come here. - you pat your lap for her to sit on it and she widens her eyes.

- What? N-now?

- Now is as good a time as any. Manager-unnie is coming to pick us up in a few and I have a feeling you're not the quietest person in bed so I don't think we can do that with anyone around. - she seems to understand your point and crawls to you, straddling your lap with her hands holding your shoulders. You hold her waist and look in her eyes. - Are you sure you wanna do this?

- Yes. - she doesn't hesitate in her answering so you don't hesitate to capture her lips in a kiss which she reciprocates sighing.

- How do you like it? - you ask kissing down her jaw, chin and neck.

- Hm? - you pull away only to be greeted with the sight of Aeri with her eyes closed, biting her bottom lip. It makes you smile

- Would you like it fast and rough or slow and sensual. - you graze your teeth on he earlobe and she sighs again squeezing your shoulders

- I want whatever you're willing to give me. Just give me something, anything. - at this point she was already rocking on your lap and you were starting to lose it.

- Ok. - grabbing a fistful of her hair you pull her into a bruising kiss, smiling into it when you hear her moan. Your other hand on her hip willing her to keep on moving .

She takes it upon herself to deepen the kiss swiping her tongue across your lips to which you let her in without hesitation, moaning when your tongues meet.

She pulls away panting, looking at you with hooded eyes while opening your oversized button up. Following her you pull her shirt over her head, noticing how her bra clasp was at the front, your hand goes for it but before opening you look at her for consent. She nods.

The sight before you makes your mouth water. The cold air of the aircon making her nipples instantly harden.

- I've always had a thing for your boobs y'know?

- Everybody knows that. You're always looking at them. - she says rolling her eyes, smiling teasingly and you smile back - Pervert

That's the last thing she says before throwing her head back with a moan when your mouth goes for her right nipple, your hand pulling on the left one.

You were having fun noticing she was growing desperate by how she was grinding harder against your lap. That is before her phone started ringing.

She groaned before picking it up from the ground and putting it against her ear without looking who it was.

- What?! - frustration evident in her voice. - oh, yes, unnie. Hm... yeah - your lips went back to nipple, your hand rubbing her pussy through her pants. Before she could hold herself back, she moans. Aeri slaps your back and you chuckle agaisnt her skin. - I'm fine, I just hit my knee... okay. We'll be waiting. Let us know when you get here.

- What is it?

- Manager-unnie is coming to get us. Guess fun is over. - she motions to get up and you pull her back.

- We just have to be quick. We have less than 15 minutes. - this time you don't wait to put your hand inside her panties moving your middle and ring fingers in circles on her clit.

- Oh fuck - her voice is breathy. Head thrown back giving you access to her neck where you give open-mouthed kisses and graze your teeth lightly so you leave no marks.

Her soft moans are like music to your ears. The way she moves her hips on your hand drives you crazy.

Pulling your hand away Aeri whines. Biting her lip when she sees you suck your fingers

- Sit on the couch - she does so with no questions, lifting her hips when you pull on her pants and panties altogether. - Open your legs for me.

Her cheeks are in a pink shade. Aeri feels shy all of a sudden but she knows there's no time for embarrassment now so she does as you ask. You look in her eyes yet again searching for some reassurance and she nods.

You close your eyes before running you flattened tongue from her entrance to her clit and you find yourself dripping by her smell and taste and the way her hole closes around nothing, you repeat the motion a few times. One of her hands gripping your hair the other one pulling on her nipple. You look at her face only to be greeted with an Aeri with her face flushed, eyes closed, eyes furrowed but what got to you was the way she smiled while biting her lip.

Pulling her to the edge of couch by her thighs you put her legs around your shoulder. One hand snaking around her leg, resting on the top of her mound pulling back so the hood of her clit no longer covers it. Again you flatten your tongue and rests it at the top of her clit moving ever so lightly so it doesn't hurt her. She hums in approval.

Your free hand travels up her leg, squeezing her inner thigh then positioning two fingers on her entrance. Pushing in slowly while kissing her inner thigh, she gasps when you suck on her inner thigh leaving a mark close to her crotch.

You move your fingers experimentally enjoying her moans.

- F-faster... please... - and you comply. Who are you not to do exactly what a pretty girl asks.

The faster you move the louder she gets. Pulling on her own nipples, her pussy squeezing your fingers, you knew she was close so you go back to suckling on her clit.

Her moans are borderline pornographic at this point and you were praying no one was around or close to the studio.

- I'm gonna cum... I'm gonna cum... please don't stop... Please.... - you didn't. If anything you moved your fingers faster and suckered harder. Letting out the longest moan she arches her back from the couch and you help her with her high.

You pull your fingers out just in time for her phone to vibrate again. You pick it up to let her recover.

- Hello? Ah, yes. We're coming. - turning off the call you look at her and smile. - we gotta go.

- okay. - Aeri stands up on shaky legs and you take it upon yourself to help her get dressed. Aeri looks at you and laughs, you follow her.

- what?

- Your chin. - she cleans her own cum from you lips and chin then peck your lip. - Thank you. Maybe I can return the favor later.

- Wanna shower together when we get home? - you offer.

- I'm dying to.

Taking her hand you pull her out of the door towards the elevator. Both running along the corridors of the building giggling like two teenagers.

Well, Giselle wasn't that frustrated anymore.

___________________>_<_________________

Want to be tagged?

#J-writes #aespa giselle #giselle x reader #giselle x fem reader #giselle smut #gg x fem reader #gg x reader #aespa smut #aespa scenario #aespa x fem reader #aespa x female reader #aespa x reader

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buckys-wintersoldier · 4 months

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You’re mine | Florence Pugh

Pairing -> Girlfriend!Florence Pugh x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary -> You and your girlfriend are at the premiere of her new movie. When Sebastian makes a joke about you being his, Florence makes sure to show you that you’re only hers.

Warnings -> Minors DNI, 18+, Smut, thigh riding, dry humping, kinda dirty talk, possessive Florence

Wordcount -> 1.1k

A/N -> I want to thank @sergeantbarnessdoll for helping me with the title and the idea. She is just so hot, that also @sergeantbarnessdoll is gay now.😂😂 Divider made by @firefly-graphics. My requests are open, feel free to send an ask.

Masterlist | LGBT-Bingo Masterlist | Bingo of your own Masterlist | Florence Pugh Masterlist

You’re standing next to your girlfriend, Florence Pugh. The two of you have been dating for almost a year, and now it’s the premiere of her new movie. So you’re in front of all those camera people. Your girlfriend has her arm wrapped around your waist, and smiles into the crowd of cameras.

Your eyes burn lightly from the flashes of the cameras. But with Florence’s arm around your waist, you feel safe, and it’s a bit of fun to pose for the people in front of you.

It's not the first time that the two of you are at a gala or a premiere, so you’re used to it, but sometimes you still prefer your home with your friends and family and without the paparazzi.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Florence mumbles into your ear, and you immediately blush.

The grin on her lips grows when she sees the light red on your cheeks. Her hand is stroking your side up and down. When you’re finished, you walk along the red carpet and to the other actors who are there today.

Your best friend, Sebastian Stan, stands with his husband next to a little table and looks at you. You wave at him, then you walk with Florence towards them.

“You two look gorgeous,” Chris says, his arm wrapped around his husband's waist.

“Thank you, but we all know she always looks gorgeous,” Florence says, making you blush again.

The effect she has on you is beyond belief. You never thought that someone could make you blush by just telling you you’re handsome or making you happy the way she does.

You place your head on her shoulder; your fingers are tangled with hers, still holding you tight at your waist.

“Want a drink too?” Seb asks and looks at the empty glass in front of him.

“If you continue, I need to carry you home." Chris laughs and kisses his husband's cheek.

Sebastian laughs softly; his nose is slightly scrunched, and you giggle.

“What’s so funny, babe?” Florence asks, following your eyes, which are still on Sebastian. “Mhm, do you like the man in front of you?”

“Just look at his scrunchy nose; that’s so cute,” you say, pointing to his nose, which is still slightly scrunched.

Chris and Florence burst out laughing when Sebastian tries to look at his nose. But then he looks at Florence, his blue eyes glittering in a way you know they do when he has a competition with someone.

“Guess it’s my girlfriend now,” he smirks at her.

Florence’s jaw drops slightly, and she furrows in confusion. But her gaze immediately changes when she pulls you closer. She holds you tight, looking at Sebastian with the same expression as he looks at her. Then she turns her face towards you and leans closer to your ear.

“I guess I need to show who you belong to,” she says quietly, smirking at the way your eyes widen slightly and your attempt to press your legs together.

“Excuse us, we need a few minutes,” Florence says, smirking at Sebastian, who’s eyes widen as well when he sees the way she looks.

Then she drags you to the restrooms. Because it’s a premiere, you have a restroom for yourself, so no one can interrupt you. And there are enough other toilets, so Florence knows the two of you have some time together.

Florence opens the door, pushes you into the small room, and closes the door behind her. Before you can react or ask what her plan is, she pushes you against the wall behind you. Her hands hold yours above your head, and she pushes her upper body against yours.

“Flo-“ you moan when she suddenly presses her leg between yours.

You throw your head back and look into her green eyes, focused on you. And the smirk on her lips when she hears your moan grows even wider. You can’t stop yourself from slowly moving your hips against her leg, finally getting some release.

“Such a slut, huh? Wanted your best friend to fuck you?” she asks, but you shake your head. “No? Mhm, it looked like that. Who do you belong to, babe?”

You moan when she presses her leg more between yours. You’re grinding against it, trying to get more friction. One of Florence’s hands lets go of your hand, and she wraps her hand around your neck, choking you slightly.

"Answer: Who do you belong to?”

“I’m yours. Please, can I cum?” you ask, whining.

She laughs but shakes her hand. You grind more against her, trying to convince her with the way you move on her thigh or with your moans, which leave your lips. But she just grins and looks at her thigh.

Your panties are already soaked with your slick, like her thighs. Your moans get needier, your head is thrown back, and Florence uses that moment to kiss and bite into the sensitive skin of your neck. You’re turning into a moaning mess; the feeling in your stomach grows, and you can almost feel your orgasm. Your legs are shaking, and your breath is heavy. But you don’t cum, not until Florence allows you to cum.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“Who is the one who can fuck you like that? Can touch you like that. The one who wants to hear those pretty moans of yours?”

“You. You, babe. I need to cum.”

She laughs, your hips moving faster against her leg. Your cunt drips, and with every move over her leg, you moan loudly. The hand she doesn’t hold in hers finds its way to her shoulders, trying to get some hold, a way to ground yourself from the growing pleasure.

“I love you, babe,” she mumbles, leaning closer and capturing your lips with hers.

Her soft lips move against yours, and the kiss is passionate but soft. When her tongue glides into your mouth, you moan and feel the orgasm hitting you. You cum all over her leg, squeezing around nothing. She smiles against your lips, biting your lip.

“I love you, too," you say, resting your forehead against hers and riding your orgasm out.

Your legs are still shaking, and you need a moment to catch your breath while Florence cleans her thigh. Then she walks back to you, kissing you once more and sliding her hand between your legs. Her fingers are stroking over your wet panties and she smirks.

“Haven’t told you you can cum, and you made a mess. I think we have to practice that,” she grins, getting a moan in response. Her green eyes show pure lust and anticipation.

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh x you #Florence Pugh smut #Florence Pugh x fem!reader #Florence Pugh x fem!reader smut #florence pugh fluff #Florence Pugh fanfic #Florence Pugh x fem!y/n #Florence Pugh x female reader #Florence Pugh x female y/n #lgbtq bingo #bingo of our own

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phefics · 4 months

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okay okay—I know you asked for other fandoms not to long ago, and it’s completely fine if you don’t want to do this, I understand. But what if you did THG Boys x Chubby!reader? Maybe not smut, but you choose! I’m okay with anything. And it’s okay if you skip over this, like I said, I understand🫶

i hope i did this justice ahh i’m sorry in advance if it wasn’t what you were looking for!! ty for the request💓

before i get into the headcanons i think that being chubby is seen as a good thing in the districts and possibly the capitol as well, sort of how like in medieval times it was seen as a sign of wealth to be bigger. the capitol people do canonically engage in disordered eating habits but they claim its just to be able to eat more, not necessarily to stay thin, so i do think canon context would mean that the characters would be less likely to judge a chubby person negatively for their size.

peeta loves your body and makes sure you know it. he always wants to grab and kiss at your thighs and belly, and because he’s so strong, he likes to make a show of picking you up if you say you’re too heavy for him to do so.

gale is honestly a little jealous of your body, having never had much of a change to build up muscle while experiencing all the food shortages in district 12. he sees your size as something that makes you healthier and wealthier than him (even if you still come from a poor district) so while it doesn’t make him any more/less physically attracted to you, there is a little bit of bias there i think.

finnick thinks you are absolutely gorgeous. he loves your curves and is always reminding you how absolutely beautiful you are. district four is a place where people manage to get food easier than other districts and so a lot of the people back home are built like you, and he isn’t exactly scrawny either.

coriolanus is a bit like gale, having being hungry beyond belief many times in his life, so he would view your body as a reminder of what he doesn’t have. he gets over that way quicker than gale, though, because unlike gale, the bias is short-lived and quickly replaced by physical attraction.

sejanus loves to hype you up, buying you fancy clothes that you feel comfortable and confident in, and he is huge on worshipping your body from head to toe, murmuring praises and compliments into your skin.

#💌 𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐗.#peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark #gale hawthorne fluff #gale hawthorne x reader #gale hawthorne #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fluff #coriolanus snow x reader #corionalus snow #sejanus plinth fluff #sejanus plinth #the hunger games #sejanus plinth x reader #thg hcs #ophelia's hcs

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teafiend · 1 year

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Photos source: @Danbal_er (Twitter) via JEC’s Instagram account and Marie Claire Korea account.

#jung eun chae #marie clarie korea #march 2023 #black & white 🖤🤍#always gorgeous beyond belief

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usedtobecooler · 1 year

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if it's not with you | tom grant x fem!reader

Pairing | Tom Grant x Fem!Reader

Warnings | sexual content 18+ minors dni, unprotected piv sex, vaginal fingering, general banter, flirting, all around fluffiness.

Word Count | 5k

A/N | eeeee i'm so excited to share this fic with you all!! honestly i've fallen in love with tom all over again writing this, i hope you all enjoy this flirty fluffy cuteness!!

This caravan park was easily the worst place you’d ever been on holiday to. You couldn’t even lie to yourself — the entertainment area was outdated, the food was far from good, the staff were mostly rude and unhelpful, and the caravan you’d rented for the week was the biggest piece of shit.

Your idea of a nice, relaxing beachside break from the city was basically down the pan the moment you arrived, though you had to admit the one saving grace was in fact the gorgeous beach, barely thirty steps away from your rental, all golden sand and crashing waves. It was peaceful, quiet — the school summer holidays were over so it only left the caravan owners and the odd few stragglers without kids behind.

Summer was barely clinging on, the nights were beginning to close in fast and the air was feeling that bit crisper once the sun set, like it had done every Summer since you could remember. There was still the odd humid, hot day, and this was one of them.

Muggy beyond belief, despite the cool sea breeze rolling in from the East. You were sweating, skin feeling sticky as you sunbathed in peace, laid out in a one piece on your towel. Regardless of the factor thirty, you already knew you were going to burn — you always did, no matter what. The harsh rays from the sun were unforgiving to your sensitive skin, leaving you flushed and freckled.

You feel the figure looming over you pretty quickly. The slight darkness on your left hand side as said person blocked the sun. You let out a deep sigh, using your hand as a makeshift sun visor as you open your eyes carefully, squinting up into the sun.

You spy the caravan park logo on his polo shirt immediately — site worker, clearly. He’s all curly hair, pale skinned and a goofy grin on his face as he clutches onto the magazine you’d taken with you to read, obviously blown off in a gust of wind when you’d been blissfully unaware, “Think this was trying to do a runner on you,” His voice is unexpectedly deep, though still chirpy, as he extends his arm out with the magazine rolled up in his hand.

“Thanks, mate,” You bark out a little embarrassed laugh, propping yourself up on an elbow and taking the magazine from him. Your fingers brush, and you can’t help the flush that creeps up to your cheeks at the barely-there touch, “It’s shit anyway — one of them magazines people get paid fifty quid to share their fake stories to, y’know.”

The man snorts, shoves his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts, “I know the ones, my mums obsessed with them. Surely nobody believes the ghost stories?” He’s making conversation, not in any rush to get off, and it’s strange. He’s maybe the second worker you’d encountered who was genuinely an alright person.

“Oh I know, in this one they’re claiming the ghost made toast in the middle of the night. Didn’t realise they could open a loaf of bread, who’d have thought it?” You humor him, and he properly laughs at that, kicking his toes in the sand as he looks down at you.

He’s awfully pretty, you notice, as you look up at him properly now the glare of the sun has been blocked a little. Big brown eyes and a freckled nose, tinged pink from too much sun and not enough sunscreen, no doubt. Nice full lips and a cute chin, chains dangling on his neck. Very typical English boy, but that was always your type.

Your mouth runs dry, now that you’re suddenly aware of how attractive this man is and you’ve just called him mate. Ground swallow you now.

“Anyway, I’ve got to get going,” He looks sullen at that, nose scrunching up a little, “Duty calls — these old fuddy-duddies who arrive this time of year always find something to moan about.”

“Well, you enjoy that…” You blush, giggling like a dickhead, suddenly aware of the fact you’re lusting over a man who’s name you don’t even know, “Sorry, I never got your name. No nametag?”

“Tom,” Tom digs in his pocket, a small triumphant noise escaping him when he pulls the old nametag out between two fingers proudly, showing you it, “I usually don’t wear it. Can’t be fucked when these arseholes complain about the staff and name us to management.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to name you to the staff when I check out and let them know you were a very helpful young man, Tom,” Your voice drips sarcasm and humour, and you know you’ve got him hook, line and sinker when he bellows a true laugh, throwing his head back and exposing the vast expanse of his neck, veins protruding. Your thighs clench.

You’re both shook out of the little bubble when somebody starts shouting Tom’s name from behind you both, startling you. He rolls his eyes, tapping the watch on his wrist, “Gotta go, darling. You need anything just ask for me personally when you phone, yeah?”

You nod, dumbstruck as he smiles wide at you, pearly white teeth on display. He takes off in a jog, and for the first time you truly understand the term ‘hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave.’

You bump into him again two days later, in the laundry room as you’re banging on the washing machine that currently had four days worth of clothes and underwear locked in it. It’d swallowed your token, locked the doors then refused to start, and you were raging — three quid down the fucking drain, just like that.

He knocks up behind you unexpectedly, his hip catching on the soft flesh of your ass as he leans over to pop a token into it. You suck in a breath and hold it, watching with awestruck eyes as the tendons in his wrist flex when he turns the dial. The machine whirs to life, water beginning to fill the drum in just mere seconds.

“What’d I tell you about just shouting for me if you needed anything?” Tom’s smug, lips so close to your ear they’re almost brushing the shell and you have to literally shove down the gasp that almost makes its way up your throat. He’s so close to you that you can feel the heat radiating off of his body, and a shiver ripples up your spine.

“I didn’t expect to need maintenance help for washing my underwear,” You bristle, trying to act calm as he brushes past you and opts for leaning against the machine, hands once again buried deep into his pockets — he’s wearing grey joggers this time, clearly to match the miserable and dreary weather outside. You avert your gaze from the obvious bulge in his trousers, willing yourself to just get a fucking grip.

It doesn’t help when you lock eyes with him, and he’s all gooey brown orbs and long eyelashes. It’s embarrassing how much you fancy him, and now you feel like a right slob — down here in your leggings, hoodie and crocs of all things. Hair up in a messy bun and no makeup on, on account of the severe sunburn on your nose and cheeks.

“C’mon, we’ll go back to the token machine and I’ll get you your money back,” Tom nods towards the door, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You want to tell him you don’t need the money back, but a little part of you wonders — and hopes — that he’s offering to do this so that you have an excuse to wander off with him.

“Sure, lead the way my saviour,” You joke, extending an arm out towards the open door. He scoffs, rolling his eyes with a look that could only be described as fond on his features as he saunters past you. You feel your cheeks heat up, and it’s not from the sunburn this time.

“What’s brought you to Cornwall, then?” He asks conversationally — you’re bumping arms you’re that close, and the corridor isn’t even that narrow, he’s just naturally gravitating towards you. You plod along slowly and he matches your pace, your heart thudding in your chest as your hopes were confirmed; he was being nosey, interested in getting to know you.

“Not much, I like the beach but I live in London so I don’t get to see it much,” You admit, shoving your hands into your hoodie pocket, “I work from home, too. So I thought I’d maybe get some work done whilst I was here. The wifi is shit, by the way.”

Tom winces, shooting you an apologetic look, though it’s clearly a mockery, “Yeah, this place doesn’t have much going for it, darling. Though it’ll give you an excuse to actually enjoy your break instead of worrying about work, right?”

You’re walking so slowly you may as well be at a standstill, and you know it’s because the token machine is barely ten feet away, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” You admit, because it’s true — you’d hardly even thought about your job since you got here, enjoying your time soaking in the sun and the peace away from your roommate, “What about you? You from around here?”

“Born and raised,” Tom shrugs. You glance to the side, watching as his adams apple bobs up and down when he swallows, “I live on the site now, though, have done since I was sixteen. I’m here all year with Kai, you’ve probably seen him around, angry looking dickhead with a buzzcut. A girl called Jade used to live here too but eh, she’s gone now.”

You hum, acknowledging what he’s saying. You want to pry, the way his voice changed when he spoke about this ‘Jade’ character leaves a bitter taste in your mouth — an ex, maybe. But you were basically a stranger to Tom, so why would he explain that to you?

The both of you stop right at the token machine, and Tom fumbles for his set of keys, flipping them until he finds one with a red tag on it. You watch his hands the entire time, thirsting silently — god, his hands were so nice. For a maintenance guy, they were clean, nails manicured, the skin soft. You could tell he took care of himself, and that made him all the more attractive to you.

He slips the three pound coins into your hoodie pocket, knocking you out of your daze. His hand bumps against your waist when he pulls it out of said pocket, leaving you feeling flustered. There’s no way he’s just being nice, he’s flirting, albeit subtly.

“Thank you,” Your voice is breathy, catching in the back of your throat as your eyes search for his again, though it doesn’t take long before his eyes are locking on yours once more, “Don’t know what I’d do without you. Or that three quid, actually, that’ll get me another shitty magazine from the shop and a bottle of Coke.”

Tom laughs, showing off his ridiculously perfect teeth once again, “You’re right, it will. Hopefully the ghost story in this one’s a bit better —”

There’s a sudden harsh knock on the window behind your head that has you leaping out of your skin. He glances up to where the source of the banging came from, and he’s huffing, rolling his eyes, “Gotta go, darling. Another dickhead to deal with. Remember what I said, need anything just shout for me, yeah? Enjoy your magazine.”

He lands a soothing hand on your shoulder just barely before he’s taking off, and your skin burns even through the thick material of your hoodie.

There’s one day left of your holiday. One miserable day. You hadn’t seen Tom at all since your encounter in the laundry area, and you had to admit you were feeling deflated over it. You hadn’t been avoiding him, in fact quite the opposite, but your paths had just never crossed again.

The weather was unbearably hot once more, worse than the first day you’d met Tom, not even a breeze coming in off the sea, and you were desperate for a cold shower to rinse off the sweat from your now sunkissed skin.

The caravan door slams shut behind you as you step foot inside, basking in the little bit of cool air in the living area that’d been bathed in shade the entire day. You strip off your two-piece without a second thought — your caravan doesn’t look onto any others, and you don’t see anybody around, so there was nobody to scar when you stripped naked.

At the beginning of your holiday you didn’t believe you’d ever become accustomed to the tight living quarters, especially the bathroom, but now that you’d been at the park for a week you almost couldn’t imagine going back home to your shitty little flat in Central London. You actually enjoyed the peace and quiet, and you were saddened about leaving.

You couldn’t deny that Tom was part of that, too. Though you’d hardly gotten a chance to know him you were drawn in, and the thought of heading home the next day and never seeing him again was weighing heavy on your shoulders.

Stepping into the tight shower, you twist the dial to turn on the water, only to be engulfed in a roaring hot heat that has you yelping and gasping. The sharp sting of the scalding hot water hitting your sunburnt chest brings tears to your eyes, your hands flapping to turn the dial back until the stream stops.

You jump out of the shower, grabbing for your fluffy towel that you’d set in the open window that morning, pulling it around your bare body and tucking it in until it’s sat nicely. The ends of your hair drip wet, the water cooling fast, an almost pleasant feeling in comparison to what you just felt.

There’s not a second thought before you’re dialing 0 on the phone in the living area and asking for a maintenance person to come look at the shower, reeling off that the water was scalding hot and had burned you. The person on the other end sounds bored, uninterested and far from shocked when you tell her what happened. You hang up and, in your anger, stick up your middle finger at the phone.

You didn’t even think to ask for Tom. You perch your ass on the arm of the U-shaped sofa, nervously chewing on your bottom lip and shaking your leg as you wait, wondering who it’d be that showed up to your call. You really, really hoped it’d be him.

Not even five minutes go by before you’re hearing a rapping of knuckles on the glass pane of the door, and you answer it quickly, all street smarts going out the window as you pull the door open just clad in your towel. Tom stands on the narrow step, clutching onto a metal tool box, and you breathe out a sigh of relief that it’s him.

“Fucking hell, that burn looks sore,” Tom looks with bug eyes at your chest, taking in the look of your skin tinged a deep red, much darker than the rest of your sunburnt body. You flush, moving out of the way to let him in, “If you put in a claim for that this place would be shut down.”

He laughs about it, but visibly looks nervous. You can’t help but wonder if, as much as he complained about the job, he genuinely liked it. Or maybe it was all he knew, which was also probably true, considering he had told you he’d been here living since he was just a teenager. A pang in your chest asserts itself at that realisation.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, it’s my own stupid fault for stepping into the shower before turning it on like a silly bitch,” You shake it off, a wobbly little laugh escaping you, “Nothing a bit of lotion won’t fix, Tom.”

“No, it’s fucking ridiculous that this even happened,” Tom grunts, stepping past you and wandering the short distance into the bathroom. You follow him like a lost puppy, clutching at the top of your towel with one hand, standing in the doorway as you watch him flip his toolbox open, grabbing for something and banging the shower door open.

“Dunno why they still rent out this caravan every summer there’s so much shit wrong with it, told the manager it was fit for the scrap yard two years ago,” Tom’s conversational, unscrewing the shower tap and fiddling with it as if you’re not standing there basically naked and still slightly damp from your failed attempt at hosing off.

You’re trying to look anywhere but right in his direction. It’s hard, though. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his arm bulging and straining under the tight material of his polo shirt as he uses his wrench to tighten a bolt, “S’okay, I got it pretty cheap. I’m away home tomorrow, didn’t want the next poor sod to get burnt like I did.”

Tom shoots a glance at you, brows marrying for a moment until he’s turning back to the job at hand, “I didn’t realise you were away so soon, fuck sake. If I’d known I would’ve come and seen you earlier. You’re alright, y’know?”

“Thank you?” It comes out as a question, and you can’t help but feel somewhat offended by his choice of words, “I suppose you’re alright yourself. Probably the only decent member of staff I’ve spoken to this entire week.”

“Yeah, the nice face and banter are just a bonus, eh?” Tom flashes you his teeth again and it has you rolling your eyes, though a fond smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, “Not like those posh London boys, they’re stuffy and boring.”

“You’re right about that,” You agree, watching as he throws the wrench back into the toolbox blindly, the tool landing correctly in its place. It’s now or never, you think, as he screws the tap back on. This is it, after this last chance meeting you’re not gonna see him again. “Who’d have thought something as simple as catching a blown away magazine would have a girl weak at the knees?”

You cringe at yourself, though Tom’s head shoots around. He looks at you with a confusion etched on his features, and you have to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Surely you were being obvious enough, right?

You watch him dumbly step out of the shower, even going as far as to shut the screen door behind him, “What do you mean?” He asks, quirking a brow. Clearly you weren’t being obvious, then.

“Is it not totally obvious that I’m into you?” You scoff, wanting to lean forward and rattle that devourable looking neck. He’s clearly so clueless, it would actually be kind of endearing if you didn’t find it so infuriating.

Tom balks at you, taking a step closer to you, which has him almost right up in your face, with how enclosed the space of the bathroom is, “Really? I’m really shit at reading signals, sorry, love.”

Love. You melt at the pet name, going all gooey. You take your chance, fingers tugging at your towel until it’s loosening on your body. He watches you with curious eyes that soon turn lust filled, when you let the towel drop to the floor and pool around your feet.

You blush under his intense gaze, taking in the swell of your tits, the pebble of your nipples, the curve of your hips, the mound of your cunt. He takes another step, so you’re basically toe to toe, and he exhales loudly.

“Not done this for a while,” Tom admits, as his large hands engulf your waist, pulling you closer to him until your naked body is flush against him, the soft material of his worn-in work polo a pleasant feeling against your skin, “Can I kiss you?”

You nod, far too fast, too eager, but he clearly doesn’t seem to mind, leaning in until his plump lips are capturing yours. You melt into it, arms wrapping around his neck to tug him in closer, fingers burying in the hair at the nape of his neck.

Tom deepens the kiss quickly, tongue running over your bottom lip and you open up willingly, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. His own tongue glides along yours deliciously, has your pussy clenching and your legs shaking. He moves you blindly backwards, like he knows the entire layout of this caravan — which he probably does, has probably been here many a time.

The backs of your legs hit the bed and you let yourself fall backward, opening your legs for Tom to nudge between them, one hand still on your waist tightly, other slipping down your leg, fingertips digging into the meat of your thigh. You shiver, unable to contain it, the feeling of the hands you’d thought about so much the last week finally on you was almost enough to drive you crazy.

Tom’s hand skates higher and higher up your thigh, until he’s cupping the heat of your cunt. He’s the one to break the kiss, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes properly, like he’s looking for confirmation that you’re still good and you’re okay to keep going, “You okay if I touch you?”

You melt. You nod, and he dives in, kissing the side of your neck with spit-slick lips, leaving you gasping and writhing below him. He bumps his hips down into you, and you feel the outline of his hard cock brushing against your inner thigh.

Suddenly, your carnal desire for him overcomes your every being, your hands falling from the back of his neck to fist into his shirt, bunching up big handfuls of the material, “C’mon, you too?” You beg, voice whiny, completely distracted by how Tom bites and kisses at your neck, “Need to see you too.”

He sits back on his haunches, smirking down at you, hands leaving your body and in turn leaving you cold — though it’s not for long, as you watch him pull his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. He dives back down into you quickly, bumping those godforsaken hips down against your pussy this time, leaving you gasping.

That stupid, shit eating grin never leaves his face until he’s burying his face back into your neck, peppering your skin with kisses, hand nudging between your legs again, until the pads of two of his fingers finally dip in between your slick folds, gathering your juices on them. He grunts against you, rutting his hips down again, “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He mumbles, caught off guard by it.

“Mmph, all for you,” You gasp, breath catching in your throat when he finds the swollen, sensitive bud of your clit and starts rubbing in small, tight circles, until your hips are pushing up into the air, “Oh God —!”

You lose yourself in the feeling of Tom lathering you in kisses, the way his plump lips ghost along the stinging, burnt skin of your chest and soothe it, his fingers working on your clit until your cunt is gushing wetter than before. He’s so sensual, passionate, taking the most attentive care to your body, and it’s driving you wild.

“You feel so good on my fingers,” Tom groans in between kisses, looking at you with those pretty, chocolate brown eyes, now mostly blackened with lust, “Can’t wait to feel you on my cock, babe.”

You squeal, a moan punching out of you when his fingers leave your clit just barely to dip into the entrance of your pussy and glide back up, taking some of your milky wetness with them. You clench, quivering at his words, a deep heat blooming in the pit of your belly, alarmingly fast, “I’m so close,” You admit, losing yourself in the pleasure of Tom’s fingers catching on your clit, winding you up tight, tight, tight.

Tom kisses the swell of your breast, lips dragging down until they latch onto your nipple, licking and sucking until you’re crying out. He can’t take his eyes off of you, watching every contortion of your face as he makes you fall apart. Your fingers grip into his curls, tugging lightly until he’s groaning, vibrations echoing up your chest.

His fingers work at that same torturing pace, sliding in circles until you’re arching off the bed slightly, coil in your tummy snapping, your entire body tensing and going lax just as fast as your orgasm washes over you, a gush of slick slipping from your hole as you shake through it.

Tom works you through it until you’re jerking away, fingers unwinding from his hair and pushing at his shoulders instead. He presses a light kiss to your nipple, pulling himself up and slipping his fingers from your cunt, “Was that okay?” He asks, though he’s smiling, proud of himself, clearly.

You nod, catching sight of the prominent bulge in his grey joggers, sudden desperation to get to his cock overtaking you — you lean up, tugging at the waistband of the offending material until it’s bunched around his thighs, uncut cock springing out proudly, you gasp, “No underwear? You always wander around like this, you slag?”

Tom laughs, shaking his head, “No, I wasn’t on shift but took the call because I knew this was your caravan,” He admits, and you giggle, a little swell of pride in your chest. That little admission was enough for you, he did like you as much as you liked him.

He dives back into you, capturing your lips with his own, and you take that opportunity to get a feel for his cock, deft fingers blindly wrapping around the length and giving him an experimental tug, pulling the foreskin back. He gasps into your mouth as you work him up and down, your thumb swiping over the tip, and he’s punching his hips into your hand.

“Keep doing that an’ I’m gonna cum before I get to fuck you,” He mumbles against your mouth, nibbling at your bottom lip just a little. You take that as your cue to stop, hand dropping from his cock and instead wrapping around his bicep.

He makes a show of it, like an arsehole, grabbing a hold of his cock and sliding the tip through the mess of your cunt, catching on your clit and gliding it back down, until you’re gasping and silently begging for it, digging your nails into the meat of his tanned arms.

“C’mon, Tom. Please?” You whisper, looking up at him with pleading eyes, and he takes the bait — he slips his cock into you in one fluid motion, until his balls are flush against your ass. You couldn’t have been prepared for the sheer thickness of him stretching you from the inside out, a gasp escaping you when the head of his cock brushes along your frontal wall.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Tom moans, burying his head into the other side of your neck this time, kissing and biting at your flesh until it’s raised. He pulls out, slamming back into you to the hilt, and you clench around him, unable to help it, the curved head of his cock brushing against the spongey part of your cunt perfectly, “God, babe, don’t do that, I’ll cum so quick.”

You moan, clenching around him again until he’s groaning, fucking in and out of you properly, your cunt sucking him in, gushing around his length. You’re overwhelmed by the feeling of him all over you, his lips and teeth on your neck, his hair tickling your face, his toned torso crushing down into yours, his cock sliding in and out of the tight heat of your pussy.

“You feel so good around me, fuck,” Tom’s mumbling against you, words almost getting lost in your skin, but you’re fucking melting for it, the praises having you keening up into him.

You feel your orgasm building quickly, unaware of how loud you’re moaning until Tom’s picking up the pace of his thrusts, the slap of his hips against your ass echoing in the room, the wet schlick of your pussy mixing with the other sinful noises.

“M’gonna cum,” You cry, tears pricking at your eyes as your tummy blooms with heat once again, orgasm building a lot quicker this time than the last time, and Tom pulls himself away from the crevice of your neck, looking at you with his lust blown eyes, swollen red lips open in a constant moan, “Fuck, Tom, s’good, so good,”

You’re babbling and Tom groans, fucking you so rough you’re sliding up the bed — your high hits you so hard you see stars, eyes squeezing shut as your cunt flutters and gushes around the girth of Tom’s cock, fingernails biting into his arms so hard that you know you’re going to leave behind broken skin.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” Tom’s voice goes high pitched, eyes rolling into his skull as your pussy grips him like a vice, and he’s coming too, hips stuttering as he paints your walls in his release, cock pulsing in the tight heat of your cunt.

You mewl, spent body giving into everything. You feel like you’re floating, unable to comprehend what just happened. Tom’s looking down at you with this big dopey grin and you smile back, leaning up to kiss him languidly as his spent cock goes soft.

Tom slips out of you with a hiss, collapsing down next to you, chest still heaving on breath, “You sure you’ve gotta go home tomorrow, darling?” He asks, voice quiet as he tugs you into him, those big arms engulfing you in a tight cuddle. Your whole body melts into his, your mind blank of anything but him. Maybe you didn’t have to go home just yet.

“I suppose I could see about hanging around for another week… or two,” You admit, and Tom cackles in triumph, squeezing you tighter until you’re giggling into his chest, heart swelling.

#tom grant smut #tom grant x reader #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x reader #my fanfic #mine #my writing #x reader #not this being the longest fic i've ever published stoppppp

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geminiwritten · 1 year

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hold on ; billy butcher

fandom: the boys

pairing: billy x reader

summary: you’re the youngest member of the boys and you hate that butcher insists on calling you ‘kid’ so you show him in more ways than one that you are not a child

notes: this is very weak, but it was kind of good writing practice because i definitely don’t write a lot of action (i’m so sorry if it sucks)! as always, please let me know what you think!

warnings: a lot of swearing, google translated french, age gap (not specified, but inferred) guns, violence, a dagger, explosion, descriptions of wounding (please don’t read if any of this is triggering for you!)

word count: 4310

Butcher is an asshole. You knew that from the moment you met him. He is rude, and brash, and impulsive to the point that made you believe he didn’t have an angel on one of his shoulders, only two antagonistic little devils. You often found yourself itching to dig your fist into his face, especially when he called you by the stupid nickname he coined the moment he met you. Kid, or The Kid, if you weren’t in the room. It vexed you beyond belief, and you knew exactly why.

Butcher is an asshole, but he’s also fucking gorgeous. He’s tall and broad, and his voice is so delicious, it often finds its way into your filthiest dreams. To say you were obsessed with the man wouldn’t be an overstatement, and it was no secret, everyone but Butcher himself knows it. You’ve wanted him from the moment you met him, but then he went ahead and called you ‘kid’ and you quickly realised that he didn’t see you as anything more than one of the boys. The youngest one of the boys.

“Are you okay, mon amour?” Frenchie asks, nudging you with his shoulder.

You look at the man sitting beside you, dressed head to toe in black with a bandolier slung across his body. The van rattles as it hits a bump, and across from you, MM casts an angry glare toward the driver’s seat.

“I’m good,” you reply, flexing your fingers around the gun laying across your lap.

You were no stranger to the weapon, having spent years training in the special forces before flunking out the minute you found out about the movement for Supes to be contracted into the military. You were furious and scared, and then you ran into an old neighbour whose mother used to be book club buddies with yours – Hughie – and the rest is history.

“Butcher’s on location,” MM says, tucking his phone back into the pocket on his vest.

“Make sure he waits,” Hughie calls from the front of the van. “It’ll take me five minutes to get eyes on the whole building, but he can’t go in blind.”

MM looks at Frenchie, “Are you sure about this?”

“Positive,” Frenchie replies, “They will not be prepared for a raid, and they will have the information we need.”

“And how many are going to be willing to give it to us?” you ask.

He grimaces, “Not many, but I do not doubt your persuasion skills, mon cherie.”

“Persuasion,” you scoff, looking down at the weapon in your lap.

Don’t get it wrong, you weren’t some kind of super CIA motherfucker who should be feared by all, but you were pretty swift when you needed to be. You weren’t overly worried about the mission, not with Frenchie, MM, and Butcher at your back, but you hadn’t properly exercised your training in months. You know you’re going to be rusty, and you don’t exactly know what you’re walking into, but Frenchie does, and he’s confident in your ability.

The objective was simple. Frenchie had some old friends who were keeping tabs on his and Butcher’s movements and feeding them back to someone who was then getting them to Vought somehow. All you had to do was shut them down and find out who their contact was, and probably murder more than half of them in the process. Simple, right? Except for the fact that not even Frenchie knew exactly how many men you were running in on, or what kind of weapons they had.

“We’re here,” Hughie announces, just before the three of you in the back lurch forward with the sudden stop of the van.

You button up the fastenings on your fingerless gloves and check that your bandolier is packed with extra magazines before standing up. MM opens the doors for Hughie, and he jumps up into the back of the van with his laptop under his arm. Frenchie pulls a small stool from the storage cage and plants it in front of the flip down desk as Hughie begins unpacking his equipment. No more than five minutes pass before video images start popping up in black and white squares across the screens.

“Butcher,” Hughie says, tucking his earpiece in, “can you hear me?”

You fix your own piece into your ear before routinely checking the clips and fastenings across your tact suit.

“I can ‘ear you,” Butcher’s voice rumbles in your ear, and you can feel your cheeks flush pink.

“Alright,” Hughie scans the screens in front of him, “they’ve got pretty high tech surveillance, but their security isn’t great. I’m getting twenty-two heat signatures, most in the basement, a couple on the ground floor, and three on the fourth. According to Frenchie’s intel, there are other tenants in the building, so my guess is that three up top aren’t apart of this.”

“The two at ground level are most likely security,” Frenchie says. “There are always one or two of them watching the building’s main entrance.”

“But there’s another way in?” MM asks.

Hughie nods, “Looks like you can access the basement from the back, but that’s probably their main point of access, so you’ll want to find another way in.”

“You tellin’ me there’s one fuckin’ door to this place?” Butcher’s voice comes through the earpiece again, and you have to flex your fingers around your gun to remind yourself to focus.

“The backdoor and the building’s main stairwell,” Frenchie replies.

“Two fuckin’ doors?” Butcher says. “Fuckin’ hell, Frenchie, how the hell are we s’pposed to get out if things go wrong?”

“Nothing will go wrong,” Frenchie states, giving you an incredibly confident grin.

Your stomach twists nervously, but you don’t let it show, returning his grin with a nod and a small smile.

“There are windows,” Hughie says, “but only Y/N will fit, maybe Frenchie.”

“Then we go first,” you look at Frenchie, “through the windows and make sure Butcher and MM can get in the back.”

“No fuckin’ way,” Butcher snaps. “We don’t know what kind of weapons these cunts got, and if you two get overpowered, we won’t be able to get in ‘n’ help. We all go in the backdoor, force our way in.”

Frenchie chuckles, “You are a fan of forcing yourself into the backdoor, Monsieur Charcutier?”

MM snorts while you and Hughie snicker, but there isn’t a sound from Butcher.

“Look,” you say, “I appreciate your concern, Butcher, but we have the best chance of surprising them by slipping in where they won’t expect.”

Frenchie giggles again at your unintentional innuendo.

“Listen, Kid,” Butcher says, sending wave of irritation through your body, “I appreciate your concern, but I ain’t lettin’ you ‘n’ Frenchie get killed for somethin’ as trivial as a bit of intel.”

“I’m not a fucking kid, Butcher,” you bite back, at which everyone in the van startles. “Frenchie and I will meet you at the backdoor.”

You pull your black kerchief up over your nose and crack the van’s doors open, peaking out cautiously before stepping down and into the dark night. Frenchie and MM follow your silent footsteps toward the brick building, skirting around the side until you find the low and narrow basement windows. You point at MM and then toward the back of the building, and he nods before hurrying off.

“There’s a guard waiting outside the backdoor,” Hughie’s voice comes through your earpiece.

You hear a couple of grunts before MM says, “Not anymore.”

“Do you have Butcher?” Hughie asks.

“We’re in position,” MM affirms.

You nod at Frenchie and he gestures for you to go first, so you turn to the closest window. You take a deep breath before crouching beside the window and gripping a lip in the brickwork to help swing your body through. Using your chunky black boots, you kick the window in and follow the momentum with your feet first. You hit the concrete floor with a thud, quickly darting to the side before Frenchie drops down in the same fashion.

“What the fuck?!” one of the men shouts, scrambling to get up from the old and torn sofa on which he sat.

Your hands are on your gun before you can remember thinking about it, and a gunshot bursts in your left ear as a thug across the room fires at you, missing completely. You take aim and shoot his shoulder, making him drop his gun and crumple to the floor in pain. Two more bullets hit the brick wall behind you, and two more of the gangsters fall with wounds in their shoulders. Frenchie is already rushing to the backdoor, and you cover him easily by dropping three more men with pistols and hitting one in the leg who was scrambling toward the stairs. A cluster of lankier looking men cower in what looks like a makeshift drug lab, all wearing rubber aprons and protective goggles over their eyes. You turn away from them and take down another heading for the stairs, watching him fall on top of his comrade before whipping around and firing at a thug who was pointing his gun at Frenchie. The bullet cracks as it hits him in the side of the head, but you don’t have time to regret your aim before someone tackles you from behind. You duck forward, gripping his thick arms before he can strangle you, and use his momentum to throw him onto his back on the floor in front of you with a loud thump.

Your gun is back in your hands as you scan the room over its barrel, a familiar sense a satisfaction quelling your fight mode when you find every assailant either downed or cowering with their hands up. The backdoor creaks open, and MM and Butcher march in with guns up before stopping abruptly at the sight of the pacified room.

“What did I tell you, eh?” Frenchie says, and you hear it more in your earpiece than from across the room. “She is fucking incroyable.”

“Holy shit,” MM mutters, lowering his gun.

Butcher’s eyes are wild above his face covering, filled with an emotion you can’t discern as he stares at you across the dark room.

“Alright,” Frenchie shouts, pulling his kerchief down, “where the fuck is Lafeyette?”

The room stays quiet, but the four of you slowly cast heavy glares across the fallen thugs until one of the timid lab assistants points a shaking finger toward the two men collapsed by the stairs.

“Time to talk you filthy sac de merde,” Frenchie spits, as he and Butcher stalk toward the men.

MM nods at you as he readjusts his gun and widens his stance, guarding the door in case anyone thinks of trying to escape. Your fighter instincts settle at the slight sense of security, and you sling your gun over your shoulder as you approach the small drug lab.

“What are your names?” you ask the men.

Three of them glance at the shortest of the four, and with trembling hands he moves his goggles onto his head, revealing two clean circles of skin around his bright blue eyes.

“I am Gabriel,” he says, his accent thicker than Frenchie’s, “this is Théo, Lucas, and Éliott. They do not speak English.”

“Can they understand it?”

He nods, “Mostly.”

“Good,” you nod and hold your hands up, “I’m not going to hurt you, unless you give me a reason to.”

They all shake their heads vigorously.

“Are you here because you want to be?” you ask them.

“No,” Gabriel replies, and the other three shake their heads again.

“How did you get here?”

“Théo and I came together,” Gabriel says, “without papers, and Monsieur Toussaint said he would get us citizenship. Lucas and Éliott were here already, and they have kept us from leaving.”

You gesture to the bench full of laboratory equipment, “You make drugs for them?”

“Oui,” he nods, “Lucas is a- uh, how do you say un scientifique?”

“A scientist,” MM calls out from behind you.

“Oui,” Gabriel nods again, “he teaches us to cook.”

You frown, “Do you have any family here?”

“Théo has family in America,” he replies.

“Does he know where they are? Can you contact them if we help you leave?”

His bright blue eyes sparkle with hope, “Oui!”

You nod, “Good, we’re going to try and help you, okay?”

You barely finish your sentence before MM screams your name, and you feel the weight of a large hand on your left shoulder, dragging you back and blocking your ability to grab your gun. You crouch under the pressure and reach your thigh holster with your right hand, gripping the hilt of your dagger. You unsheathe it as you turn in a full one-eighty, escaping the assailant’s grasp and sweeping underneath his arm with your dagger outstretched. The blade slashes horizontally right beneath his kneecap, causing him to buckle as you rise to your full height and lacerate his throat. You leap back to avoid the spray of blood and falling body, watching the man slump face first into the concrete floor at your feet.

When you look up, you find every pair of – conscious – eyes on you, a mixture of terror and disbelief written across the room of faces.

“Are you okay?” Frenchie asks, though there is more pride than concern in his expression.

“I’m good,” you reply, crouching down to clean each side of your dagger on the dead man’s shirt before tucking it back into your holster.

Butcher drops the collar of who you assume is Lafayette, and you still can’t read his face behind his kerchief as he stares at you.

“Uh, guys,” Hughie’s voice speaks into your ear, “someone heard the gunshots, you’ve got emergency response on site in less than five minutes.”

Frenchie swings his foot into Lafayette’s stomach before nodding at MM, “Let’s go.”

You turn to the four lab assistants and gesture toward the backdoor. They scramble to remove their protective gear before hurrying toward MM who guides them out. Frenchie jogs past you, but Butcher stops and holds his hand out.

He pulls his kerchief down, “I’ll do it, you get out of ‘ere, Kid.”

“Fat chance,” you scoff, “now go.”

You’ve already got the gas canister in hand, and he knows you’ll pop it before he can argue, so he turns and mutters something inaudible as he stalks toward the door.

With your kerchief securely up over your nose, you release the pin and throw the gas into the room before turning to the lab table. You work quickly, pouring the two vials that Frenchie gave you into an empty beaker and setting it atop a lit burner. In five long leaps, you’re out the door and slamming it shut before sprinting away.

Butcher is waiting for you just around the side of the building, his hand outstretched. You barely have time to grab it before a huge explosion blows through the low basement windows and shakes the entire building. Butcher pulls your body against his, pivoting so that his back is to the blast as it knocks both of you off your feet. You hit the ground and your ears ring, but you don’t feel a single bit of debris hit you thanks to the body lying on top of yours.

“Fuck,” Butcher curses, though his voice sounds distant in your ringing ears.

You look up at him, his face inches from yours and smattered with dust and dirt. The adrenaline coursing through your veins has your whole body on high alert, overly aware of every part of him that is pressed against you.

He looks down at you, his pupils blown wide as his gaze darts to your lips. He licks his own, his chest heaving against yours and your head spins with a thousand filthy thoughts. For a split second, you think he might kiss you, and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation, but then he pushes himself up and offers his hand. You sigh and take it, letting him haul you off the ground.

“You alrigh’, Kid?” he asks.

“I’m not a fucking kid,” you spit, snatching your hand from his.

You run toward the van and leap into the open doors, Butcher at your heels. Hughie slams on the accelerator before Frenchie has even closed the doors, and you instinctually grab onto the nearest thing to steady yourself. It just so happens to be Butcher, and you know not from the scratch of his beard against your temple as you cling to him, but his scent. Warm and woody, with hint of apple-scented soap and whiskey.

You retract quickly and fall into the seat on the opposite side of the van, resting your head back against the blocked-out window.

“What the fuck, Frenchie?” MM exclaims. “You said that would be a small explosion, that it would look like an accident.”

Frenchie grimaces, “I did not account for the other reactants in the lab.”

Butcher sits quietly across from you, his eyes trained on you as you do everything you can to avoid looking in his direction. You focus on your gun, unlocking the empty clip and clicking the safety on. MM and Frenchie speak with the four timid men huddled at the back of the van, asking them a series of questions before deciding where would be best to take them.

After a painfully long drive, Hughie stops the van and Frenchie helps the four men out of the back doors. He tells you all to go back to the safe house and he will be there soon. The rest of the ride home is tense and silent, MM not daring to speak once he sees the irritated frown on your face as you fiddle with your equipment, packing it into cases and locking it in the van’s storage cage.

Once safe inside the decrepit apartment you currently call home, Hughie grins at you, “Holy shit, Y/N, you are fucking bad ass.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, starting on the clips of your tact suit.

“I wish I saw all of it,” MM says, “you’re deadly.”

A small smile quirks the corner of your lip, and you let out a small sigh as you release the last buckle on your Kevlar vest. You drop the heavy thing on the dining table along with your bandolier.

“I’m still pissed that you didn’t listen to me,” Butcher states, at which you roll your eyes, “but you did good, Kid.”

Your head snaps in his direction, your eyes narrowing at him. “Do I look like a fucking child, Butcher?”

Hughie’s grin vanishes and MM freezes on his way to the couch.

“Do I?” you press, holding your arms out as if to emphasise your attire. “Because a fucking kid couldn’t do what I just did, yet you insist on calling me by that fucking name!”

He doesn’t flinch the way Hughie does, nor are his eyes as wary as MM’s. He remains his usual cool self, though his frown is more curious than irate.

“Didn’t realise it bugged ya so much,” he says.

“You don’t fucking realise much, do you, Butcher?” you snap, before turning on your heel and marching toward the room that was designated yours.

You march inside and slam the door, but a pair of heavy boots are hot on your heels, and you curse the landlord for not installing any locks as the door swings open again.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Butcher demands, slamming the door once again behind him.

You unzip your outer jacket and throw it on the bed, “Didn’t I make it clear?”

“Uh, no, actually,” he steps toward you, “I’m not fuckin’ pissed about the raid, I’m pretty fuckin’ impressed, but you’re still throwin’ a tantrum like a fuckin’-”

“Like a child?”

His eyes narrow, and he crosses his arms over his chest, “I was gon’a say kid.”

You clench your fists in an attempt to refocus your frustration, digging your fingernails into your palms until it stings.

“Look,” he says, “I know you’re capable, and fuckin’ talented with a gun, but I wasn’t tryin’ to be a dick, I was tryin’ to keep you safe.”

“Because I’m so young and stupid?” you ask, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because I can’t fucking handle myself even though I just prevented all of you from getting your fucking asses kicked?”

He sighs, “I never said you’re fuckin’ stupid.”

“But I am young,” you mutter, your voice revealing more emotion than you intended.

His brows shift into a dubious frown, “What’s this fuckin’ obsession with your age?”

“What’s your obsession with my age?” you snap, “Calling me ‘kid’ all the time and acting like you’re my fucking babysitter.”

“Oh, so fuck me for caring ‘bout your safety, is that it?”

“No, Billy, that’s not it,” you sigh, tearing your gaze from his to focus on unclipping your thigh holster.

“Then what is it? ‘Cause I don’t know what I’ve fuckin’ done!”

Your holster comes loose and you grip the hilt of the dagger with white knuckles, standing straight again.

“You haven’t done anything!”

“Then what haven’t I fucking done?!” he exclaims, unfolding his arms and throwing his hands up.

The little voice in your head splits into a thousand, screaming a thousand different commands at you. Cry, yell at him, throw something at him, scream, hit your head against the fucking wall, punch him in the throat… kiss him.

Your ears, still numb from the explosion, fill with the sound of your thumping heartbeat as you take three quick steps toward him. His height is intimidating, but you don’t have time to regret your decision as your fingers curl into the material of his shirt and pull him toward you. You have to stretch onto your toes, your other hand finding his chest for stability as you crush your lips against his.

For a second, you think you’ve seriously fucked up, but then his mouth begins to move against yours and your knees buckle. His arms catch you, wrapping around your waist and holding your body against his as his tongue slides across your bottom lip. You part your lips with a sigh, and he takes all control, claiming your mouth and wiping your mind of any thought that isn’t him.

In two easy steps, he backs you against the bed, sitting you down without his lips ever leaving yours. He crawls on top of you, straddling your thighs and catching your hands as they find the buckle on his belt.

“Love,” he sighs against your lips, “hold on.”

You blink up at him, slowly coming down from your high, “To what?”

He chuckles, “I meant slow down a sec.”

“Oh,” your cheeks burn, and you snatch your hands out of his grasp. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever fuckin’ apologise for that,” he says, a dopey smile on his lips, “but I don’t know-”

“I do,” you interrupt him, holding yourself up on your elbows.

He raises his brows, “What do you know?”

“I know that I want you,” you reply, “and I know that you want me. I don’t know if this is a good idea, but it fucking feels like it, so please, Butcher… please.”

“Fuck,” he groans, his eyes lingering on your lips before trailing down your body to where he sat. “I know I want you, but why the fuck do you want me?”

You snort, “You’re kidding, right?”

He only frowns.

“Butcher, I have wanted you from the moment I fucking met you,” you fall back against the bed with a sigh, “I don’t know how you haven’t fucking noticed.”

He leans over you, holding himself up with a hand either side of your head. “Why?”

His voice is so deep and his eyes so dark, you struggle to breathe as your clothes suddenly feel like they’re strangling you.

“Because you’re-”

“An asshole?”

You giggle, “Yes, and rude, and brash, but you’re also fucking beautiful.”

His heavy breathing suddenly stops and his eyes widen as they search yours, as if looking for some sense of deception or sarcasm. You open your mouth to reassure him but he swallows your words with a kiss, his lips crashing into yours with bruising force. His mouth moves across your jaw and down your neck, and you whine when pulls away before quickly realising that your high-neck undershirt is in the way. His fingers find the hem and yank it up over your breasts, not bothering to remove it completely before his lips assault your chest, biting and soothing your skin in five separate spots as you writhe beneath him.

He moves down, placing a kiss on your sternum and your stomach, before pausing at the waistband of your pants and looking up with hungry eyes. “You sure ‘bout this?”

His hot breath fans your skin and goosebumps rise in response.

You nod, “Yes, please, Butcher. Yes.”

The buckle and button are loosened in a second, and he groans at the sight of your lacy black panties. He places a hot, wet kiss just above the hem before sitting back and unbuttoning his own shirt. He doesn’t manage to shrug it off though, because you take the opportunity to grip either side of it and pull him back down on top of you. The feeling of his skin against yours makes your whole body clench, and you know you’re kissing him sloppily but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Your fingers find his belt again, struggling to remember how the damn thing works when he pulls away with a gasp, “Hold on.”

You frown, “What now?”

He chuckles, “No, sweethear’, not like that.”

His hands take yours guiding them up over your head until you feel the wood of the headboard at your fingertips.

“I said, hold on.”

END.

#billy butcher #the boys #karl urban #billy butcher x reader #one shot #imagine #fanfiction #homelander #hughie campbell #karl urban x reader #butcher x reader #mothers milk #mm #frenchie

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porcalinecunt · 6 months

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𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐗 — 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏

💀 KINKTOBER EVENT

🎧 𝐅𝐔𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐜𝐰 — sub!reader. soft dom!fujin. ftm!reader. body worship. slight use of powers. teasing. praise kink. some oral. general vanilla. perversion(?)

a/n: god i want fujin SO BAD (๑>◡<๑) i dont see much content of him here, but after some inspo on ao3, i HAD to write for him. sorry if this one isn’t as explicit as the other entries, im still getting to know his charecter and seeing what suits him best. otherwise, enjoy fujin likers! 🤍

He swore he’d never fall for a mortal, but the heart will always get what it wants, even in a god.

Warmth and affection were foreign to Fujin, the only companion he really had was Raiden, but even the lighting god was cold to his brother. Being Earthrealm’s protectors costs too much, including the chances of love.

Hence his confusion, when a meer human who’s curiosity got the better of him caught Fujin’s eye. He had no clue if he was amused at the man’s stupidity, or from how drop dead gorgeous he was.

It didn’t matter how many times he stressed it to himself that you were to be forgotten, to get out of his head. He had a whole realm to protect for crying out loud, yet he still found himself getting embarrassingly hard at the lewd images his mind created against his own will. He wanted to curse your name for being so naive, for lacking judgement when it came to crossing the God of Wind. But in the same breath, he found himself fawning over you.

After all, it was an accident. It was him that crossed into your quite, mist covered village within the depths of Earthrealm. He stepped onto your path when you were just returning after an early morning walk to pick from your fresh harvest, your skin dewy and flushed from the cold, wet air. Fujin immediately felt his heart pound, out of both shock and anxiety. However, it was your reaction that solidified the demi-god’s crush.

“I-I’m so sorry..! Am I disturbing you?”

Your gentle tone and worried gaze with eyes that laid on Fujin’s blade and crossbow, with a basket of white peached that still had droplets of water on them. However, Fujin’s mind couldn’t help itself from pointing out the very thing he was thinking about. It was your figure.

You were petite, so much smaller compared to the demi-god. Even through the loose yukata, the back of your neck was exposed thanks to your hair being tied up. Fujin touched his lips, wanting to lean closer and ravage your soft skin. Your smaller body looked delicate, enough for his head to fill with fantasies of you. If he could, he would’ve picked you up and fucked you silly against a tree. Watching the yukata fall off, exposing what hid underneath.

He could only stare, afraid that he startled you from his weapons that were blatantly visible to the naked eye. The silence was deafening, before he spoke up in a quite voice.

“Apologies, please, you first.” As he awkwardly stood to the side of the path, allowing you to pass him by without problems. He seemed to have gotten his feelings under control, but the wind suddenly betrayed him. Rather, revealed what he truly felt within. A sudden whoosh fell upon your ears, as a ribbon of wind wrapped itself against your flushed cheek. Almost like a hand touching it, it snuck under your ear till you felt it kiss your neck.

You turned around, giving the snow haired god one final look and an awkward wave before turning back to the village. Meanwhile, Fujin was practically flustered beyond belief. He knew you knew, and you did as well as him. However, he knew the rules too well. A relationship with a mortal would end in tragedy, constant berating from Raiden and the day you’d leave this world would forever leave an unsealable hole in his heart.

But it always, always, gets what it wants.

The demi-god’s hands roamed your chest, staring down at you while you couldn’t maintain eye contact with him. You were pressed between his larger body and the cold, wooden wall behind you. Fujin’s thick fingers crept up to your neck, gently persuading you to look at him. His eyes go wide and he had to hold back from ripping your hayori off right then and there. Your eyes were bright in the dim sunlight, every single imperfection on your face washed in the pink hue that spilled into your room.

He couldn’t hold himself back any longer, as he carried you off into bed and set you down on the edge. He tugged at your hayori till it fell off your shoulders, revealing your bare figure to him. Immediately, Fujin latched his mouth onto your neck, gently biting down on the soft flesh. Instinctively, you spread your legs and allowing him to sink between your thighs, his bulge couldn't be more obvious but he didn't care at that point. He trailed his lips down to your chest, reaching your taut nipples and went for one of them while his hand tweaked the other. The sharp contrast of his warm tongue against your nipple forced a mewl out of you, holding the back of his head with your fingers tangled into his loose hair.

"F-Fujin..ah..slow down.."

He looked up, half lidded white eyes filled with a carnal lust that hasn't been fulfilled in decades stare daggers into you. He crawled back up to press a soft and passionate kiss against your lips, all while he murmurs nothing but praise as he traced every curve and bone in your body.

"How did I have the strength to resist you, the nerve to turn away from an angel. My dear, you have driven me beyond insane..”

He whispered in his husky, low voice in your ear. All while his hands touched dangerously close to your throbbing cunt. Yet his movements were slow, almost treating you like a glass statue. It wasn’t driven by a need for a quick fuck, but a insatiable adoration of you. One that could never be extinguished by just one night of sex.

Fujin slipped his fingers through your lips, teasing your clit with his thumb while you gripped his wrist. His lips still remained glued against yours, drinking up your whines and muffled pleas for more. It no longer mattered to him that he was doing something so taboo, so inconvenient for him as a god. He was beyond infatuated with you, and he will prove it through the pleasure he invokes in you, treating you as if you were created by the Elder Gods themselves.

“Beautiful, beautiful my darling..just allow me to do all the work. Take good care of you like you deserved..”

🎧 this work belongs to @porcalinecunt. reblogs and feedback are appreciated. <3

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avissapiens · 3 months

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Himbo New Year

Babes and beautiful bois, this is the year we glow up so beyond belief. There's no stopping it. January passed with the uggos failing out on their goals. We won't be the same. All we've gotta do is focus on us.

Your goal for the year is...

Use the Halo effect

Pretty people get nice things because the world loves beauty and is willing to go above and beyond to ensure that the beautiful among us have it easier.

But you can never get what you don’t ask for. As you continue to ascend, emerging from the aesthetic cocoon as a fully gorgeous looksmaxxed butterfly slut, You’ll have to shed those old inhibitions and shame.

Sure as a 5 you’d be laughed at for thinking you could get above what you deserve. But as a gorgeous himbo 10, all it really takes is flashing that smile or those tits. Tossing that soft hair. Staring at them with your vacant eyes and watching them melt.

It won’t always work. But it’ll work more often than you think. The tight clothes confound and befuddle. People’s natural tendency to be lenient on the well put together and aesthetically pleasing. Maybe it starts as asking to be a couple bucks short when you’re buying from the local bakery. Being nice and sweet and ditzy and dumb, drizzling your speech with that seductive allure like frosting over a roll.

Batting your eyes and sucking up to some stud who you’ve maybe only chatted with once or twice if he could drop you home from the gym since its raining. Promising to pay him back in one form or another.

Then you can elevate to seeing if maybe the admin at work could bump up your meeting with the boss for a raise. It shouldn’t be too much hassle. After all, you've seen how the man in charge looks at you when he thinks you can't see him.

"Please" and "Thank you" go a long way when you’re this hot.

The model used is Antonio Kelly

For more works to fuel your Himbo new year, Explore all the lovely facets of the abyss.

#himbo #himbofication #gay hypnosis #caption #advice

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whateverisbeautiful · 2 months

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♥️ Ranking Richonne

#5: You're My Family (S9E05)

✨Top 5!✨ Words can't even fully capture how much I adore this scene right here. 😭 But I'll try. - I am so grateful for it and for Danai for being a big reason why we got this moment. This is such a significant scene, especially because it’s Rick and Michonne’s final exchange of dialogue before Rick’s departure. And what a perfectly fitting, stunningly beautiful way to land their love story until they’re reunited again. The family and true love Rick and Michonne know they found within each other will always move me. And I know this scene is a hallucination, but listen, Michonne said it’s real, so it’s real to me too 😌...

(now if I went all out for my last 25 posts, then for my Top 5...🎵you know that I'm gon' be extra🎵 as we get into the big guns of this countdown. thanks for reading ♡)

I'll always love that Michonne is Rick’s final hallucination in his final full episode. It’s such a confirmation that she truly is home to him.

As I noted in my Reveling in Richonne post on this scene, the final stretch of a journey is often the most draining and challenging to get through, and it’s there when you need to tap into the most powerful source of strength and reflect on what most fuels you to keep going, so, of course, Rick's mind went to the ever-so-important love of his life - Michonne.

And I love how any time we’ve seen Michonne in Rick’s mind, she's always this glowing, calming, goddess-like presence. No wonder Rick looks at her like she hung the moon and the stars all the time. 😊

It’s sweet seeing that while Rick's mind conjured up all the living people he loves on this bridge, it’s Michonne whom he envisions having a personal moment with. He needs her. And she’s so reassuring when she tells him it’s gonna be okay.

The real Michonne is going to be understandably distraught when she sees Rick bleeding out on this bridge, but here Rick imagined her as the calm, comforting, and life-giving presence she’s always been to him.

And then it’s powerful for Rick to tell Michonne to take care of tf because he’s again passing the torch. Similar to him telling her she’d have to be the one to lead the others forward in Say Yes, Rick clearly believes so strongly that his people will be in good hands with Michonne as the leader. He knows this because he’s been in good hands with her as his leader. 🥲

And what a testament to Rick's trust and belief in her that he could know that this thing he’s dedicated his life to - protecting his people - is something that Michonne can continue. And as he thinks he's dying, it's like this moment is Rick personally finding solace in that Michonne will continue to hold things together if he doesn't make it.😭

Michonne encourages him, instilling faith that he'll get through this, and I always love the moment where Rick vulnerably says, "I can’t" because he’s always been allowed to be so human with her. I love that she says confidently, "You will, it’s not over," and it's just so believable when she says it.

And then, I have many favorite parts in this one scene, but the following part is particularly special because it is my favorite visual of Rick and Michonne of all time.

Like if you told me I could only ever look at one visual of Richonne again it would be this one right here where Rick and Michonne stare right into each other's souls as her eyes instill this blazing strength in him.

BREATHTAKING. 🤩😍🤗 It’s just beyond powerful and beautiful to me and perfectly illustrates the relationship and depth and strength of these soulmates so well. What this gorgeous power couple gives to each other is one of a kind. And as always, this moment is literally and figuratively magnetic. 🧲

I love that Michonne tells Rick adamantly, "We don’t die" as a motivating rendition of "We’re the ones who live" and a graphic novel nod. And again, when Michonne speaks, you just believe it.

I remember watching this live, unsure if Rick would survive or not, but when she said this I was like alright it is written, my baby Rick doesn’t die, cuz Michonne is always right...

But I also love her saying "we don't die" for its figurative meaning, as truly the love Richonne found with each other is endless and will never die.

And I adore that Rick looks her right in the eyes and nods, hearing and believing her even despite the odds and the pain. All versions of Rick can hear Michonne and allow her words to reach him.

Then there’s this wonderful moment where Rick is about to exhaustedly hang his head and Michonne lovingly takes his face in her hands to both physically and emotionally lift him up. The movement just feels so symbolic of how she will not let him stay defeated and low. She always lifts him up like only she can.

I get teary over this whole scene, especially because of how powerful it is to see Rick have someone who can hold him up like this even in his toughest moments.

And because Michonne always knows what to say, she then brings the focus back to one of the most motivating, important, and inspiring things in their life - their love.

When Michonne asks Rick, "You wanna know why I fell in love with you?" in that lovely tender tone, I was gagged then and I'm still gagged now. Like you would think one of us pitched this moment. 😋 It’s just so romantic, and I am forever elated that Rick and Michonne got to directly discuss their incredible love in their final conversation.

(Also, again, you really can't watch this scene and then be surprised that TOWL is being called an epic love story. I repeat - Richonne's story has always been an epic love story. 😌)

At this moment on this bridge, where Rick needs the ultimate fuel to keep fighting, this is his own mind focusing specifically on the love supreme he found with Michonne - his guiding light, who has kept him going so many times before. Eternally here for it. 🙌🏾🥹

One of the many things that chokes me up about this gorgeous moment is when I stop to think about the start of Rick's TWD journey.

When we were first introduced to Rick he had a wife who wasn't sure if she was still in love with him and caught legitimate feelings for his best friend. And that very best friend ultimately plotted to kill Rick and told him his own family would move on from him because "they've done it before." Like that's so painful.

But then, in the wildest of circumstances - an apocalypse - Rick found a wife and a best friend all in one. He found the ultimate love of his life. He found Michonne - whose love for him runs so deep, so visible, and so certain always.

And where his hallucinations of Lori were more tormenting, here Rick is hallucinating his wife Michonne and envisioning her enveloping him in her consistent and unwavering love that has always meant the world to him.

And as Rick's mind imagines Michonne bringing up their love on this bridge, it's him in the potential final moments of his life also thinking about how honored he is to have loved her and been loved by her. 🥹

So after Michonne asks if he wants to know why she fell in love with him, it is so extremely moving the way Rick intently looks at her with a tear, eager for the answer.

And Michonne stays holding his face up as she tells him with conviction that she fell in love with him, "Because you're a fighter and you never give up." 😭 Exquisite. To see Rick be showered with this love and praise from his true love is just everything and more.

You can really tell that for Rick in this exact moment the only thing he's thinking about is her. Not the pain, not the turmoil, not the past or the future - just his wife's love.

And it's cool because in one of my Reveling in Richonne posts from years ago, I was analyzing that season 4 finale scene with Michonne in the car with Carl while she listened to Rick talk to Daryl outside. And I felt like that scene in the car and their special "Cuz I'm Okay Too' scene were signs that Michonne was falling in love with Rick, especially after Rick showed how far he'd go to protect his son in contrast to her previous partner. This is what I wrote way back then:

"Like she needs someone who won’t give up and she saw firsthand that Rick doesn’t give up, especially when his son is involved. And so I think this is when she starts really thinking of Rick differently."

The fact that years after that post, Michonne straight-up tells Rick she fell in love with him because he’s a fighter who doesn’t give up made me even more confident that my love timeline theory is pretty accurate and that I was on track with my studies in getting a Ph.D. in Richonne. 😂

She fell in love with him way back then. I mean, Danai has even said Michonne has been in love with Rick for a long time. (And I bet if Rick were to tell Michonne when he fell in love with her, it would suggest it was around season 4 as well.)

In this s9 hallucination, I love that Rick gets this uplifting encouragement from the woman he loves and has long been in awe of and that her words so clearly breathe life into him. Michonne has always breathed life into Rick, so it's only fitting that she did it one more time in this series.

And then I really love that she tells Rick, "Fight for me." 🥹 Oh it's perfect. It’s just touching knowing this is Rick’s mind telling him to fight for her. Fight for his wife. Fight for Michonne, the most important person in his life apart from his kids. 💯

I'm willing to bet that during the years that Rick's been taken away from Michonne and Judith, the words "fight for her" likely played in his head often and helped keep him going.

(Side note: This moment and "fight for me" line right here should tell everyone watching that Michonne is in a category of her own to Rick. It shouldn't need to be clarified cuz it's so obvious. But for anyone that still needed clarification, I love that TWD & TOWL promo has set the record straight (time & time again, amen) that Rick's wife and kid(s) are his ultimate choice. As I've noted before, one thing I've long known and long-loved about that man Rick Grimes is he gon' make it about Michonne every time and make sure everybody else knows what we've known for years - His wife and his kids are his everything. I'm not against a reunion with some of team family eventually, especially a reunion with Daryl after he watched over Richonne's kids - but I also just know viewers demanding to see all these different friends (and even enemies 😪) on screen with Rick again does not automatically mean Rick needs it. Within the actual story that we've been watching of Rick Grimes since the pilot episode of TWD, we can be confident that reuniting with his immediate family - Michonne, Judith, and RJ to be clear - will take precedence. As TWD has said, reuniting with each other is the only goal - as it should be when a man's been taken from his wife and kid(s). 👌🏽 While I haven't seen TOWL yet {which ahhh we're so close 🤗}, I've been quite positive for literal years that while Rick's been away, he's felt like all he is anymore is a man looking for his wife and child...And anyone who has got in the way of that is gonna lose.)

Rick knows that despite the pain and exhaustion on this bridge he has to keep fighting for the love of his life. And it makes so much sense why Michonne would fall in love with the fighter within him.

And then Michonne says, "Fight for all of us," because team family is of course important to them too. It's just Rick is a whipped man, see, and so even here there's this subtle aspect where Rick is staring straight at Michonne and really only looks to the side once Michonne turns to face the others. 😋

But then, as Rick does best, he puts his attention right back on Michonne and just warms my heart completely when he looks at her and says, “You’re my family. I found you.” Gospel truth and Utter Perfection. 😭

I adore how s9 Rick was just so vocal about his reverence and love for Michonne every chance he got, even in hallucinations. 🤩 And it is so sweet that in his final exchange with Michonne, and really his final dialogue with anyone, Rick gets to look at her and cherish finding family through her.

And with what a family man Rick is and has been since season 1, it is truly the greatest treasure in the world that, even after losing all his family from before the apocalypse, he still found a genuine family that became his life's fuel.

I love the way Rick places a hand on Michonne's shoulder to really emphasize that he found family in her.

It is so great that in this 9.05 episode where Rick is repeatedly talking about needing to find his family, his mission since s1, we get this lovely declaration that Michonne is so much of who he was always looking for. 🥹

And what a beautiful way he found her both in their actual life journey and in his mind’s mental journey this ep.

Michonne’s tear as she smiles and again affirms him and says, "You did." Just beautiful and melts my heart.

Andy and Danai did a masterful job depicting the immense love Rick and Michonne have for each other in this scene. They always have, and of course, their final scene delivered on another level. 👏🏽👑

Truly this has been a stunning love story from the moment they laid eyes on each other in season 3 all the way to this s9 moment here (+ their s11 finale moment) - and now beyond as we look forward to Richonne's story continuing. 🤩🙌🏾

It’s heartbreaking that after a moment of such love and warmth, Rick then has to acknowledge that this exchange isn't actually happening in real life. He says, "But this isn't real", and then I will forever love that Michonne assuredly says, "Yes it is." 👏🏽

It is real. What they found with each other is real. The abundant love emitted between them in this scene is real. I feel like had Michonne actually been able to get to him on this bridge, the exchange could have gone similar to this (but like a lil more frantic probably cuz she'd be anxious to get him some medical help) But in many ways how Rick is picturing their love playing out here is so real and accurate.

So I love that Michonne got to confirm that the love and family she and Rick found in each other is real in any dimension. Since this is all in Rick's mind, it's like this is his mind also deciding that everything in this moment is real and something he has to fight for when he wakes up.

Then Rick and Michonne seal the moment with their precious final kiss within the TWD series and it's another perfect example of true love's kiss. Y'all this really is a love story for the ages and I’ll never stop shouting that from the rooftops. It’s beautiful. 🥰

It's fitting for Rick to imagine her kissing him and breathing life into him one more time because 🎵these are a few of his favorite things🎵. And if he's dying then Michonne's love is what his mind wants to remember before he goes.

(Also I wish the real Michonne got to know that on this bridge Rick was imagining her empowering him and kissing him one last time. 😭)

Finally, Michonne tells Rick to wake up, and the resilient king does as she wishes, notably without knocking out like he did the other times he hallucinated people, which to me is a nice subtle way to suggest there was something more real about Richonne's exchange than his previous hallucinations.

This scene is just gorgeous and touching and emotional and a lovely ode to what makes Richonne so special. We really are spoiled cuz we’re fed with gourmet content in each and every scene. And this scene was a feast and the perfect exchange to close out Richonne on the show. #I'mGrateful

Had this moment legitimately been their last exchange ever it would have done Richonne justice. Fortunately, though, we've finally arrived at a point where this won't be the last exchange between them. 🥳🙌🏽 Soon, this 9.05 scene will have to be referred to as Rick and Michonne's 'final convo in TWD,' because more Richonne content is coming. And this is why...

In this Top 5 moment from Rick's last full TWD ep (where Andy and Danai gave a masterclass in each scene they had both together and apart 👏🏽) I adore that this final intimate exchange between them served as a reminder that Rick and Michonne fell in love, that they don’t die, and that what they found in each other is a beautiful family that is forever real and everlasting. The ultimate win.

I will always celebrate that Rick and Michonne found the truest family in each other and that they will soon find each other again. 😌

#richonne #top 30 #top 5 #number 5 #rick x michonne #real soon this won't be their last moment together 🥳#we're so close!#twd towl countdown #twd towl #the ones who live

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irisintheafterglow · 8 months

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Need (college au!sakusa x you)

summary: passion is a passing thing, accidental chemistry. it's not what you two are at all. (or, you get wasted at a party and the only thing in your mind is him)

wc: 2.28k

cw/tags: childhood best friends to strangers to lovers, angst/fluff with a happy ending, mentions of drinking and parties including being drunk and vomiting, pet name (gorgeous), a tasteful amount of self-loathing (if you can call it that, it's just angst), swearing/explicit language, mutual pining

note: taylor swift lyric title cuz yk it's a signature at this point. also i was throwing around this idea with either suguru or bakugo but i could not get omi out of my mind for the life of me. hope you enjoy!

likes, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated!

“Hello?”

“Remedy.” The silence from the other end of the phone is so suffocating, you think he hung up. The thought sends another wave of emotion rolling through your body and you’re shaking, again, in the corner wedged between the toilet and the bathtub.

“What?” His voice is strained but just as smooth and low as you remember. Your empty chest aches even more.

“Remedy,” you plead, head spinning from the fluorescent lights of the bathroom. “Remedy, remedy, remedy, remedy, remedy.” It’s the only thing you can repeat at this point, too overwhelmed to think of anything else. Everything was distorted and hazy, like your eyes were looking into two differently-patterned kaleidoscopes. His voice is the only thing keeping you grounded, at this point.

“Where?”

“Party on 18th and 40th, in the bathroom. Can’t miss it,” you relay, incredibly ashamed at how easily your words slur together. He hangs up abruptly and your phone clatters into the mystery-stained bathtub. Disgraceful. The whole situation was embarrassing beyond belief–calling your childhood best friend turned stranger to tell him that you got wasted and the only thing you could think about was him. Part of you hoped he wouldn’t show up, hoped that he would confirm the theory in your mind that he hated you now. Minutes felt like ages while you continued to occasionally dry heave into the toilet and grimace through the blinding pounding in your forehead. He’s not coming, you realize as you try to stand on gelatinous legs. And why would he? He doesn’t know you anymore and you don’t know him. He’d never be found in a place like this, anyway.

Or, so you thought.

The bathroom door is shut with a forceful kick below the handle. “Easy, easy,” he cautions, grabbing your forearms to support you. Every nerve in your body can feel where his palms meet your skin and it’s intoxicating, more than anything already in your system; any fearful paranoia riddling your body dissipates when you register his presence. The sound of his voice murmuring your name floats into your ears like a drug and your knees give out at the sudden feeling of safety. He delicately sits you on the marble of the sink, careful to make sure you don’t lose your balance as he scans your face and body. Standing between your legs like this, he was in closer proximity to you than he had been in years. You’d forgotten how handsome he was in person, drastically different from the faded image you tried to retain in your mind.

“Hi, Omi,” you drawl dopily, tilting your head to the side and smiling. He can’t help huffing out an incredulous laugh at your mood switch.

“Hey, gorgeous. Are you hurt?” You slowly shake your head from side to side and he nods, eyebrows still drawn in concern. Even in your intoxicated state, you can tell how flustered he is because he seems to have no idea where to put his hands. They take turns disappearing as he crosses his arms, muscle flexing under his jacket, and then uncrosses them. He settles for putting them on either side of yours, gripping the edge of the counter. “Wanna tell me why you’re shitfaced in a frat house?” You hum in thought, rotating your neck carefreely and your face starts to burn as his fingers gently pull your chin back to face him.

“Went with the roomies.”

“The same ones from first year?” You nod, your vision slightly starry. “They’re not good for you, idiot.”

“Oh, you think I don’t know that?” The corner of his lip turns down into a frown at your sudden attitude. “Where the fuck else am I gonna live?” His body abruptly pulls away like he was offended. He starts to make his way back to the door and another wave of dread sinks into your gut.

“Look, if you’re gonna make me come all the way over here just to–”

“He looked like you.” It makes his voice halt in his throat, your words. His hand is frozen as it hovers above the handle and he looks at you over his shoulder. Your face falls a little further, voice unsteady. “He didn’t act like you, though.” He stiffens like he wants to say something, but his jaw stays clenched while he takes you back into his arms and drapes his jacket over your exposed shoulders before guiding you out of the house. The warmth from his jacket and the lingering smell of his cologne continue to help ground you back into the present. While you’re navigating the raging crowd to the exit, he’s careful to stay as close to you as possible without hindering your movement, glaring daggers into any guy that approaches. It felt like a fever dream, having Omi at a party with you when he’d sworn off these kinds of scenes for as long as you’d known him.

“I’m not that interested in slowly annihilating my liver. Probably isn’t good for Olympic prospects,” is what he said when you asked him if he was going to party in college. The sun was dipping below the neighborhood’s houses while you sat together on the roof of Omi’s, a tradition you picked up starting in middle school. It made your heart hurt a little bit, whenever he talked about going pro in volleyball. You noticed the change over the course of high school, how he canceled plans for a last-minute training camp or stayed so long after practice that you would just walk yourself home. You knew it made him happy and fulfilled the hunger of his competitive side, but it was still saddening to watch your best friend slip away little by little. “Why? Are you going to ragers every weekend?” You scoff and roll your eyes, taking another sip from your soda to avoid answering the question. Still, he’s watching you; you can tell from the corner of your vision and you shrug.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll try one just to get grossed out by it and then never do it again.” He gives you a rare chuckle, breathy and low. His smiles and his laughs, however stingy he was with them, were just as beautiful as the rest of him. It made your chest ache even more.

“Well, in the event that you’re so wasted you can’t see straight, call me.” Your first instinct is to laugh but you fight down the urge when you see the thoughtful expression on his face. “I’ll come get you and make sure you’re not with some douchebag.”

“Mmm, my hero,” you tease and he gives you a lightheartedly annoyed look. “What if you’re, I don’t know, in practice or something?”

“We can have a code word.”

“A code word?”

“Yeah, so that I know if it’s really important.”

“You wouldn’t get me if you didn’t think it was important?” It’s supposed to be a joke, but something shifts in your expression that makes you feel guilty for asking something so unlike him.

“I’ll get you every time, no questions asked.”

True to his word, he didn’t end up asking a lot of questions. When you were through the front door, his hand covered the top edge as you ducked into the passenger seat of his car. You still felt like you were in a daze while he drove, leaning your head against the window and staring off at the passing streaks of yellow and white. The quiet between you two was stifling, nothing like the late-night drives you made him take you on when neither of you could sleep. It was unsettlingly cold and you pulled his jacket tighter around your body, sinking further into the leather seats.

“I’m not taking you back to your dorm,” he states blandly. Tension riddled his body ever since he found you in the bathroom and all you wanted was for him to relax. How could he, though, if you were on the verge of vomiting again in his car?

“I know.” It’s all you can muster out of the pure shame covering your body like a rash. You trusted him and knew where he was going, but it still didn’t give you relief. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are. You couldn’t get one of your friends to take you home?” His voice and expression are both unreadable, intentionally blank to not give away his inner thoughts. There it is, you think. There’s the loathing he feels toward you for being another weight on his back. You’re careful with your words and they barely come out as a whisper.

“I didn’t want them.” His attention flicks to you for a moment, like he doubted the sincerity of your answer. His eyebrows raise in mirthless disbelief.

“But you wanted me?”

“I needed you.” He shakes his head; he didn’t believe you.

“There’s a difference.”

“Not to me.”

The shame continues to rise around your body like water and you’re sinking in it, struggling to breathe while emotions threaten to spill from bloodshot eyes. But, even more, the shame is distorted by an unshakeable feeling of confusion. You didn’t know how he felt about you, nor did you really understand how you felt about him. The last time you spoke was months ago and yet you let go in his presence as if nothing had changed. It was driving you out of your mind, not knowing what he was thinking. The feeling stays stagnant in your body even after you shower at his apartment, in his bathroom with his body wash. He leaves one of his old jerseys for you to wear, saying his bed is yours for the night. Everything smelled like him, familiar and nostalgic. Everything was telling your brain that you were safe, so why weren’t you able to relax?

His head pokes through a crack in the door to check on you right before you turn his bedside lamp off. You’re wrapped in his blankets and wearing his clothes, but everything about your situation just felt wrong. He can see it in your face, too, and respectfully has a seat on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Talk to me.”

“I don’t know how anymore,” you mutter pathetically into his pillow. He exhales deeply, rubbing his eyes and you expect him to leave you right there. It’d be too much work for him to unpack exactly what was going on.

“You said there was a guy that looked like me,” he offers. You merely hum in assent, still too disgusted with yourself to look at him. In contrast, his voice is a patient plea for you to keep talking. "Why'd he matter?"

“I kissed him and pretended he was you.” Sneaking a glance at his face, you find it completely blank, the only sign of emotion being the miniscule widening of his eyes. “His hands started to wander, though, and I just knew. I knew he wasn’t you.”

“How did you end up in the bathroom?” His words are strained and shaky, but neither of you will look at each other.

“Threw up. It felt gross, kissing him.” Kiyoomi breaks for a millisecond, his face contorting in anguish before schooling itself back into blankness. “It felt gross to kiss him because he–”

“Because he looked like me,” he finishes, unable to mask his sorrow. Something clicks in your mind and you sit up pencil-straight, suddenly completely sober.

“No.” You don’t attempt to hide the urgency in your tone while you slide closer and place your hand on his shoulder. He flinches but doesn’t pull away. “Because he wasn’t you at all, Omi. He wasn’t who I wanted, nor who I needed.”

“And who is it that you want? Is it the same as who you need?” He’s finally looking at you, eyes softer than you’d ever seen. Whether purposeful or not, both of your bodies had shifted closer to each other as if they were stuck in each other’s orbit.

“It’s been the same for as long as I can remember, even when he disappeared for a little bit,” you confess and you attempt to give him a smile. He’s completely speechless at what you’re implying, and his reaction is enough to tell you that he feels the same.

“And…would you let him stay with you for the night? To make up for lost time?” His knuckles hesitantly brush your cheek in question. You take his hand in yours and press a feather-light kiss to his fingers in answer.

“As long as he promises not to disappear again.”

“He won’t,” he states with finality while he pulls you back into his bed, pulling you into his chest as naturally as breathing. He sighs into the top of your head when you’re flush against his body, the tension you felt earlier gradually dissipating. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you more.”

“That’s not possible. I fell first, after all.” You can hear the smirk in his words even as your eyes flutter shut. You pull whatever energy you have left in the tank to respond to his quick remarks. It doesn’t last for long when you feel sleep start to tug at your mind.

“And I fell harder. Who’s winning now, hmm?”

“I still am. Look who I have in my arms right now.”

“Your athlete is showing, Omi,” you murmur on the verge of passing out. His fingers tracing swirls on your skin through his jersey wasn’t helping your fight to stay awake.

“Rest, then; we have a lot to catch up on in the morning.”

“Promise you won’t leave.”

“I promise I won’t let you go.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #sakusa kiyoomi angst #haikyuu sakusa #kiyoomi sakusa #haikyu fluff #haikyu x reader #haikyu x you #haikyu au

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