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gutsby · 5 months

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Grow a Uterus and We'll Talk

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Daryl has a bad case of baby fever, to put it lightly. You’re practically terrified of children. Rick lends you his kid for the night, and together, you come to learn that parenthood might not be the worst thing in the world. Even easier than baking muffins, one might say.

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluff, an absurd amount of baby rabies, and fluff. Don’t blame me if y’all get pregnant.

“You lay one finger on me and I’ll bite it off, Dixon.”

You’d done the same damn dance once a month, every month for the past two years, and you were starting to grow annoyed with your boyfriend’s advances.

“Would it really be tha’ bad if we tried it out…just once?” Daryl huffed.

“I don’t know,” you answered, shrugging, “Grow a uterus and we’ll talk.”

The archer playfully lunged at you from across the couch, but you easily side-stepped and took residence at the far end of the room. You reached for a stiletto to throw at his head if he came any closer.

“Still on the baby business, huh?” Carol called as she strode past the living room toward the kitchen.

“Ya know we’d make some damn cute crotch goblins,” Daryl yelled back. You rolled your eyes.

“That isn’t for you to decide, Daryl,” Carol’s voice seemed to toughen, even give him a scolding look from a distance away, “And if you knock her up before she’s ready, I’ll string you up by your balls and feed you to the walkers.”

The woman did not fuck around—and you loved her for it. Presently, you stuck your tongue out at Daryl as if to say, ‘See? I told you so’ and the man simply scowled. Flopped down on the couch and propped his dirty boots up on the coffee table.

“‘Course I wouldn’t try if ye weren’t ready,” he grumbled, “Jus’ wanted you ta consider it.”

You joined him on the couch and nudged his feet off the table.

“Is that why you’ve been parading every baby in Alexandria in my face for the past six months? Hoping I’d ‘consider’ things a little more?” you quipped, raising both eyebrows.

Daryl paused a beat, seemed to chew on his thoughts for a moment or two. Then he offered you a sheepish grin and said,

“Rick and Michonne really need the free childcare.”

You were itching to grab that high heel again. Before you could, though, a sound thundered through your foyer and the front door was thrown open wide. In the blink of an eye, Rick had stumbled through your entryway, passed off his infant to Daryl like a sack of potatoes, and raced back to the door.

“Rick, what the fuck?!” you shouted before he could escape.

“Date night,” Rick answered in a ragged breath, gripping the door frame while he glanced over at Daryl.

Daryl smiled and held Judith to his chest like she might’ve been the most precious thing in the universe. You narrowed your eyes.

“He put you up to this?” you asked, tipping your chin in Daryl’s direction.

Rick didn’t hesitate; he said that he had. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Daryl shooting daggers at his friend. Promptly, Judith pawed at your boyfriend’s stubbled cheeks and babbled.

Sensing the tension in the air, Carol gathered her belongings and contemplated baking her bread elsewhere—or at least give you and Daryl some space to talk. She started toward the door,

“Walk a lady home?” she said to Rick.

Rick shot her a curious look but accepted anyway. Casting a sidelong glance to the man on the couch and the woman who was currently staring him down with an irate look in her eyes—you—he quickly surmised it was in his best interest to leave. Hopefully Judith was too young to catch on to any curse words that might be hurled in the next several minutes.

“Be good, you three,” Rick gave his parting words before following Carol outside. The door crashed shut behind them.

As soon as it had, you were back on your feet and traipsing out of the room.

“Come on,” Daryl whined.

He followed your steps into the kitchen with Judith still cradled in his arms. There was a pregnant pause as you rifled through your cabinets, wordlessly searching for some ingredients to bake whatever pastry it would take to get your mind off the discomfiture of this situation—you decided on muffins, at length.

It wasn’t like you hated babies. You loved their big bald heads and their pudgy, wobbling legs. You loved the way they giggled and smiled and dribbled food all over their fronts. You didn’t even mind the thought of pregnancy; carrying a pint-sized redneck in your belly for nine months wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen.

It was the world that frightened you most. The thought of a newborn child’s slim chances at surviving a place like this. The fear of that alone was enough to have you fighting that dreadful outcome, tracking your cycle like a hound and fighting Daryl off every month when you knew that day was coming. You’d been pretty successful thus far. But by the looks of the man across the kitchen beaming down at the baby, you weren’t sure how long that winning streak would last.

“Wanna hold her?”

“No.”

“Wanna do her hair?”

“She hasn’t got any.”

Daryl shot you a look of mock indignation and stroked Judith’s head.

“You kiddin’? Little Ass Kicker’s gotta have at least fifteen strands by now,” he retorted, tugging at the short blond tufts as if to prove a point.

Judith smiled a toothless grin up at her Uncle Daryl. You all but had to leave the room to stifle the sounds of your reproductive organs screaming, 'Give that man a baby! NOW!' You clenched your stomach and turned away to start preparing the pans.

Daryl perched Judith on his lap and starting puffing out his cheeks. The infant shrieked with laughter. You assembled the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt together on the counter and sought after a bowl.

“Dada, Dada!” Judith chanted. Trying in earnest to say ‘Daryl’ but ending up sounding like she was calling him dad. You dropped the mixing bowl on the countertop with a clatter.

“Daryl, kiddo, Dar-yl,” your boyfriend tried to teach her, enunciating his name a couple more times.

“Dada!” the little tyke howled again as she fisted his shirt in her fingers.

Milk and oil and— eggs. Where are the eggs?

You tore through the fridge and wanted to sob into the shelves with the sheer force of delirium coursing through your veins. Damn you, Charles Darwin, I am not in a place to be procreating right now.

You tried turning your mind to other things—cooking, crying, contemplating the course of human evolution—but when you turned back with the carton of eggs in hand, you almost sent the dozen of them crashing straight to the floor.

Daryl was pinching her chubby cheeks.

If you weren’t so violently inclined to breed a whole new gaggle of progeny with this man, you probably would’ve chucked an egg at his head.

You sighed as you dropped the last of your cooking supplies on the surface of the kitchen island. You planted your hands flat on the granite and stared shamelessly at the two of them. Daryl was feigning ignorance, tapping Judith’s tiny pink nose with the tip of his finger and watching her giggle. When he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, you spun around to kick the oven door shut and cut the appliance off, immediately.

“Alright, you win, you bastard,” you said in a huff.

Daryl looked up from his present occupation, eyeing you innocently.

“What do you mean, hon—”

You cut him short, raising a finger to halt his speech before starting toward the door.

“Shut up,” you muttered as you headed for the stairs, “Meet me up there in five.”

Daryl deposited Judith in her portable playard in a second’s time and went scrambling up those steps faster than he ever had before.

Silently, speedily, he thanked every one of his lucky stars and his best friend, Rick Grimes.

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon fluff #fluff #daryl dixon imagine #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead #daryl dixon one shot #twd imagine

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sleepyangelkami · 20 days

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WICKED d.dixon

☆ WORD COUNT - 2.1K

DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - you were sensitive, daryl was hot headed. daryl often carried anger in his voice to protect you, never did you think he'd use it against you.

☆ WARNINGS - yelling, argument, sensitive!reader, blood, gore, fighting walkers, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

the prison had fallen, tensions were rising. it was just you and daryl on the roads now, attempting to find your group again. you should have noticed the way he shook his head earlier or the way he sighed loudly and squeezed his eyes shut.

you cursed yourself for not knowing sooner.

daryl dixon was never a man that anyone could say was overly patient. but when it came to you, he’d wait years for you to utter a mere sentence. he was suddenly as patient as they come. but that didn’t change his true nature.

you’d been separated from the group for quite a while now. it was just the two of you on the roads.

at first, you’d been silent as a mouse, wondering if everyone was okay.

soon after, you realised that it was daryl who was also just as silent. you began speaking, in hopes of raising his mood. you assured him, the group had found their way back to them hundreds of times before, this would undoubtedly be no different.

but daryl didn’t so much as glance at you, barely letting out a grunt before turning his head. obviously, your plan in trying to lift his mood only dampened it.

however, you didn’t stop there.

and you should have, you really should have.

perhaps if you’d spent less time talking and waffling on, he wouldn’t be as angry as he was. perhaps if you’d just listened to him and nodded with your head bent, he wouldn’t have snapped.

albeit everything was happening so quickly.

you hadn’t even registered the infected make their way out. it took only moments before your life practically flashed before your eyes.

daryl’s back was against yours, his own knife out as he plunged it into walkers heads. in return, you attempted to do the same, holding the knife at it’s base with shaky hands. but you weren’t strong nor brave like daryl was. when fighting, it was obvious just how different the two of you were, how different you’ve always been. and you couldn’t lie as to say it wasn’t throwing you off your game.

not that you ever really had game.

a walker grabbed at your shoulders causing you to let out a fearful whimper. you used the time you had to plunge the knife into it’s head. your eyes widened as you missed the brain, blood spurted out into your face and onto your clothes. you took the knife out and tried again, this time the walker fell limp at your feet.

before you could so much as try and attempt to take out another walker, one practically lurched onto you from the side.

daryl felt you hit against his back and cursed you. you were so damn clumsy and usually, he was okay with it. more often than not he’d smile at you, kiss your hurt forehead and tell you that you must begin looking where you’re going but now, he was anything but comforting. if anything, it took everything in him not to spin around and yell at you then and there.

but he didn’t, merely because he was too preoccupied with killing the walker in his hands. he plunged the knife forward, hitting two walkers and piercing straight through their heads. with a separate hand, he shoved the knife into another.

he couldn’t deny the relief that flooded his veins as he took out every last walker on his side.

he rolled his eyes before readying his arms, beginning to spin around and just knowing you’d need help.

his eyes widened at the sight of you on the ground.

foot pushing up against a walker, you attempted to get it away. while another was crawling on you, you could have let out a whimper, knowing your knife had been tossed away from you.

there were too many.

as if the ‘big man in the sky’ had answered your prayers, you closed your eyes shut at the feeling of blood spurting out onto your face. finally, you peeled them open upon the sound of groaning and gargling coming to a stop. the sight of daryl dixon came into view, he’d taken out every last walker.

and he did not look pleased.

“daryl―” you couldn’t so much as get a word out. before you could even try to defend your cause, he was speaking.

“are you fuckin’ stupid?!” daryl was an angry man, through and through. he channelled that anger, using it for things like this, taking out walkers or any other said enemy. never, had you been on the receiving end of his bellowing voice. “you ain’ gonna fucking make it out here if you need me watching your back every other second!”

you could feel your eyes sting, pathetically.

you didn’t want to cry nor did you want to let daryl see you cry, not like this. he’d wiped your tears a thousand times over, even if it was because someone was yelling at you. you’d claim that it’s no big deal, that you were being dramatic and he’d always swoop in, telling you that it’s not dramatic and nobody should yell at a ‘flower like you’. you wondered what changed. “i was trying.” you uttered out pathetically once more, voice all broken.

“wasn’t tryin’ enough!” his hand roughly grabbed yours, practically hoisting you up from the ground. you let out the smallest of whimpers. not because it hurt but because you’d never seen him this angry at you. “are you hurt?” but his voice was anything but caring. it seemed as though you were just another burden to him.

instead of replying, you merely shook your head, it was bent down so he couldn’t see your watery eyes.

but he took it as a well enough response, because he cleared his throat, pocketing his knife. “we have to keep moving.” you wondered if he’d fallen guilty after his words spat you in the face, you guessed he did because for the duration of the walk, he kept glancing back at you, as if to see if you were still so upset.

and you were.

perhaps it really was a silly thing to be upset about. but daryl knew how much you hated yelling. he was well aware of all the baggage it came from, the flashbacks it may have caused. he knew you better than anyone, he’d been the one to wipe your tears from the same thing many times ago.

deep down you knew he was only yelling because the emotions were high. he was worried about the kids of the prison, everyone else. he was worried about rick and carl, carol and judith, everyone there was to worry about, he was doing the worrying. he got in his head like that a lot.

but that didn’t change the fact that he’d yelled at you so easily, as if he’d been dying to all day.

and could you so much as blame him anymore? you had been talking his ear off. no doubt, because you thought you were doing the right thing but you tried to put yourself in his shoes. you’d get annoyed too, right?

the difference between you both?

you never would have so much as dreamed about talking to him the way he spoke to you.

“there’s a cabin around here, we’ll hole up for the night.” he received no response, so he turned his head. “y’ listening?”

once again, you didn’t speak, merely nodding. he sighed before turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut. he didn’t apologise, stubborn to the end. he didn’t often apologise to you, probably because he never found himself in a position where he had to but you were the complete opposite, always apologising profoundly for everything you did, even if it hadn’t been your fault.

you wondered if he wasn’t apologising because he wasn’t actually sorry.

he used his hand to beat down on the door, waiting to hear groans and gurgles. when he didn’t, he opened the door, peering inside. it was safe.

he let you go, watching as you practically scurried inside, ready to get away from the horrid outside world. maybe you were ready to get away from him. he found guilt eating at his insides, like a walker biting into flesh. the thought of you being angry with him was worse than the thought of getting bit right about now.

but he knew you, knew you more than anyone. and he knew you weren’t angry with him, you were merely upset.

stubborn as he was, he needed to make it better for he shouldn’t have yelled at you, as annoyed as he was.

after lighting a fire, he made his way towards the kitchen, where he somehow knew you’d be. as if he could sense your presence and everywhere it loomed. he could have spotted the back of your head from a mile away. there you were, stood in the kitchen in front of the sink, you must have been checking if they had running water. surprise, surprise, they didn’t.

he leaned his body against the door frame, head gently landing on it as he watched you. you were yet to notice his presence, your hands scrubbing dryly at the other. there was blood coating all over your hands, not your own, walker blood. you needed it off and you needed it off now.

daryl knew how you got, always fussing over getting dirty as it was but when it came to walkers, you didn’t want any of it on you. it was always a challenge when the group was willingly putting walker guts all over their coats to disguise themselves.

he’d had enough of watching you, opting to walk inside the room. “c’mere, angel.” you heard his words, freezing up and he could only feel guilt eat at his bones. he carried a cloth, slightly damp. you allowed him to take your hands in his own, cloth gently working against the dirtied skin. “y’alright?” you didn’t respond, nodding.

you hadn’t so much as opened his mouth since he’d yelled at you.

“baby…” and then he heard it, the mere sniffle that had you turning your head.

“‘m okay.” voice cracking showing that you were not, in fact, okay.

he could only frown at you. he felt you try to move away but his hands kept you still, grasping your own and keeping you in place. he waited in silence until you were ready to look up at him. when you did, he almost wished you’d hadn’t. your eyes were red rimmed and watery. you’d been crying. no longer was there that judgemental piece in his eyes. instead, you could only catch the guilt swarming in them.

“‘m sorry.” was the words that you practically clung to, that left his mouth. “‘m so sorry, baby, c’mere.” you felt his arms wrap you up.

you were too upset to argue.

so instead, you allowed him to take you into an embrace, hell you threw your arms around his neck to hold him impossibly closer. there was that gentle feeling again, the one you’d longed for so much. but you couldn’t have asked, no. how could you ask for comfort from the same person that’d hurt you in the first place?

thankfully, daryl made most of your decisions for you.

“‘m sorry.” you croaked out. “i wasn’t looking and then the walker just came out of nowhere and i swear i tried―”

daryl was quick to cut you off.

your head was held in his own dirty hands. though you hated the dirt on yourself, there was almost a comforting feeling to the dirt on him. perhaps it was the familiarity. “you ain’ got nothin’ to be sorry for, alright? nobody should yell at you, ‘specially not me.”

you didn’t know whether to agree or not.

“you did what you could ‘n i’m proud of you, y’know that?” you felt your eyes begin to get watery again, god you wished you could stop crying. as if he could read your mind, he spoke, “‘n it’s okay to cry, i was bein’ an asshole.”

you sniffled before giggling slightly. “you were.”

he couldn’t help the way his lips turned up at the sound he’d missed so dearly. “yeah, i was, wasn’t i? ‘m just… worried, y’know? for everyone. not everyone has a flower like you in their group.”

you shook your head with a sniffle, ignoring his words directed to you. “they’re gonna be fine, we’ll find ‘em.”

“yeah, we will.” he nodded, as if whatever came from your mouth, he could suddenly believe. you had that effect on him that he’d never tell. “but right now, i jus’ care about you, alright? c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

and how could you deny hands once so angry, now so gentle?

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deansapplepie · 15 days

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Do I look like I wanna laugh?

Summary: In years of marriage you had never worn a sexy lingerie to your husband. What happens when you do?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: detailed description of lingerie on your body (no body description), talks about sex, smut, Dom! Daryl or a terrible tentative of, dirty talk, knife play if you squint, fingering, mirror sex, swearing, pet names, use of the word slut very affectionately, p in v, unprotected sex (use protection kids), creampie. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+.

A/N: FINALLY FINISHED IT AFTER ALMOST A MONTH WRITING! There’s a warning for knife play, but it actually isn’t, the knife is just used to cut something and it’s not reader.

You had gone on a run with Rosita and Maggie, try to find some supplies, hopefully some new clothes and that’s how you ended up with the girls looking for some lingerie. You had never had this kind of underwear, you normally wore the comfortable ones, the more practical… when you were younger you’d not have them because you were afraid if tour parents saw them they would think you were having sex. Your father would probably freak out and your mother would tease you for the rest of your life. When you left home… well then you preferred your comfort, and nothing is more comfortable than some sports bra and cotton panties.

You had a cute set on your hands, a baby blue all lacy and full of bows. It was cute and the color reminded you of his eyes. “I don’t know Rosi, I’m not used to wearing this. And it’s not practical when we are always running from walkers.” You said, Rosita and Maggie were trying to convince you to get some sets for you. They dragged you from the section you were before and were practically throwing the cute, revealing and sensual sets on you.

“You’re not supposed to use them to fight walkers. Although… I think Daryl would find it sexy if you did.” Maggie grinned, she knew how you could get all flushed and shy when the talk was about sex or any sensual thing.

“Maggie!” You reprehended your friend. “I don’t think he likes those kind of things, I mean… he never said anything or complained.”

“We know he prefer you wearing nothing. Girl, we know you’re enthusiasts, we have ears, you know?” You blushed instantly while Rosita spoke, yes, you knew they often could listen to your and The archer’s activities. Daryl made it very difficult to not be noisy. “But believe me, he’ll like it. He’s kind of a rustic man, but he’s a man after all. They like those things.”

“Ok, I’m going to take this one.” You surrendered, but Rosita wasn’t over.

“Oh not this one, it’s all sweet and cute. Daryl already know this side of you very well. Let’s get you something more sexy.” She said looking at the hangers.

“I’m no femme fatale Rosi, I’m just me… I think I’m sweet after all.”

“You can keep this one, and any other you want, but we’ll choose some for you. Daryl will be wrapped around your fingers.” Maggie said.

“We’re married in case you didn’t notice.” You observed and showed your hand as if they had never seen the ring on your finger.

They choose three for you a black one, a red one and a coral one, they said the colors would outstand more your features. You choose the baby blue one that reminded you of his eyes, a pink one as cute as the blue and a white one.

Later that day after killing 5 walkers and going back home you pondered if you’d wear one of them. What would he think? Would he like it? He liked your common underwear, would those “sexy” ones be appreciated by him?

You had chosen the black one, if anything could go wrong you obviously would go with the boldest one. The black lingerie was very different from all you had seen before. On the breasts it made a triangle around each breast and had only a strap from one side to the other covering your nipples, it had many straps embracing your body and forming geometric shapes with it. In the middle of each strap there was a little bow. The lower part was lacy and had one particularity, it was open in the middle, in the lowest part, letting your cunt uncovered.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, on one hand you thought it was beautiful how it fit in your body embracing all the perfections and all the flaws, but on the other hand you felt silly. You never wore something like this before and you never presented yourself like this to Daryl before. That was it, you were going to take it off and wear your usual underwear and your sleeping clothes. When you were about to take it out, the door to your shared room opened, you jumped startled and closed your robe faster than the Flash.

“What’s that love? Why are ya all jumpy?” Daryl, your husband, asked entering the room and walking in your direction. You didn’t turn to look at him, years of marriage and being caught in this situation still made you blush and be embarrassed.

“Nothing…” you tried. You knew he knew that when you said nothing, it indeed was something.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing to me. You’re all blushy and you were startled when I entered the room.” He wrapped his arms around you and looked at you through the mirror. “Were ya doing something wrong? Something ya shouldn’t be doing?”

“N-no…” you knew what he meant and no, you weren’t doing anything “wrong”.

“Hmm…” he inhaled your scent in your neck nuzzling his nose on it and on your ears. “Not touching yerself without me or without me saying so?”

“No!” You exclaimed, and you quickly thought saying it like this would make you more suspect. “It’s another thing.”

You closed your eyes out of embarrassment, now you couldn’t escape this situation.

“Then, what is it?” He asked again, kissing your neck, his stubble sending chills through your body.

“Do you promise you’ll not laugh about it even if it’s the most ridiculous thing?” You asked looking for his eyes in the mirror.

“I promise it, babe. I’ll not do that.” He rested his chin on your shoulder, observing you. “Now tell me…”

You took a breath and then opened your robe, you slowly opened it until you revealed the piece you were wearing under the robe. When you opened it, you quickly closed your eyes, you were afraid of what you would see in his eyes. There was a moment of silence, and you thought you had screwed everything, until you listened to his voice. “Open your eyes.” He commanded.

You slowly opened your eyes, afraid you’d see something you didn’t want on his face. But as soon as you opened them, you saw his blue eyes, black in lust and desire, the blue just a thin line on the borders. “Do I look like I wanna laugh?” He asked.

“No…” you replied weakly, gods the way his eyes were raking your reflection… that was making your legs weak.

“Hmm…” he took his arms that were wrapped around you and slipped his hands on your arms. “Where did you get it?”

“In the run. With the girls.” You replied. “They said you’d like it… but I wasn’t sure.”

“Why’s it babe?” He asked his hands running up your arms again just to end on your shoulders, his fingers grabbing your robe there.

“I never used any of it, and you never said anything.” It was difficult to keep your eyes open and looking at him through the mirror, when he looked you like that it always felt so overwhelming looking right into his eyes.

“I’d find ya sexy even if ya were wearing a sack of potatoes.” He said sliding the sleeves of the robe down your arms. “I’d rather have ya naked, but this… damn! It got me hard the moment I saw it.”

You shivered from excitement, expectation and a small breeze that you could feel now that you were completely exposed. He pulled your body against his and you could feel his hard on. “Fuck.” It let your lips spontaneously.

“Yeah… fuck…” he repeated and drank you in. “Do ya mind if I do some alterations on it?”

You shook your head, but you knew he wasn’t getting only that. “I need words babe…”

“I don’t mind, you can do anything you want.” You said almost breathless and he had done nothing he barely had touched you yet. That was what Daryl Dixon made you feel.

His hand went to his waistband and he took the knife he had there. He took it carefully to your front and then to the side of the set you were wearing. He cut one side of the strap that was covering your nipples, then he cut the other side and threw the strap to a corner of the room with the knife. Now you had your nipples completely exposed and he was practically eating you alive just with his eyes. “Now, it’s perfect.”

He embraced your body once again with his big strong arms while his mouth went straightly to your neck giving you the most sinful open mouthed kiss, immediately making you sigh. Then he stopped. “I think I shoulda go clean myself, I worked all day…”

“Don’t you dare.” He was playing games with you, you knew it. He had no intention of stopping. He just wanted to tease you, but he had already made you despaired for him. “You just fixed some cars… I-I need you!”

“Look at my sweet girl…” he embraced you tightly one of his hands cupping one of tour breasts and the other sneaking down your stomach. “… ain’t her a little slut?”

He massaged tour breast, teasing it, pinching your erected nipple. His other hand cupped your semi nude crotch. “Yours…” You breathless said.

“Mine?” He repeated on your ear, his fingers running through your impossibly wet folds. “So wet fer me… so ready fer my cock…”

“I’m…” He pressed your clit eliciting a moan from your lips. “Ugh… your slut.”

He inserted one finger on your pussy, you gasped a moan escaping your lips. He nibbled and sucked on your neck and shoulders. “Even being my little slut, yer still so sweet.” He pumped his finger on you ando looked mesmerized at your reflection on the mirror, how you face contorted in pleasure, your parted plump lips and how your lids covered your eyes so perfectly and sinfully. “Open yer eyes sweetheart, wanna you to see how beautiful yer when I fuck you so good.”

It took you a lot to open your eyes and look at your and his reflection on the mirror. “That’s it love…” his deep voice sent chills all over your body making you clench around his finger. He inserted one more pumping in and out of you, his thumb making circles on your clit. “Such a good little slut fer me…”

You bucked your hips on his hands waiting for your sweet release and aching to have his thick delicious cock inside of you. You clenched around him repeatedly, you had become a moaning mess and it was difficult to keep your eyes open, but he wanted that so you tried. For him. Everything for him. You focused on his pretty eyes, his clean eyes that were so dark right now, the intensity on them overwhelming but grounding you in the moment. “Cum fer me baby… let it go…”

You rose your arm to the back, your hand going to the back of his neck enlacing your fingers on his hair. As you’re sent to the edge you pull on his hair making him groan as you have your release on his fingers. “So, so, so sweet! So good fer me…” he said while he drove you through your high fingers still pumping on you.

“Daryl…” you weekly said, your head resting on his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.

He looked down at you, his lips brushing yours. “What’s it baby?” You didn’t answer you took his lips on yours, hungrily damn you hadn’t kissed yet since he arrived, you needed this, you loved so much his kisses and the taste of his mouth.

You both broke the kiss, breathless you looked him in his eyes. “Was that what you needed babe?”

“That too…” you answered, the tip of your fingers massaging his scalp. “But actually… I need you, inside of me.”

He tightened his embrace on you, ready to move to bed, but you stopped him with your words. “Here.”

He stopped on his tracks, looking you in the eyes. You had already made sex in many different places, but he knew you both preferred it in bed. Your words startled him and woke something in him. “Do ya think ya can stand for a little time?”

“Yeah, I’m holding on you babe…” you said tugging a little on his hair, he released you, but was ready to catch you if needed. He unbuckled his belt and opened his jeans, taking his cock out of his boxers and pumping it a little before getting a hold on you again. He needed you, and he was glad you suggested he took you right there at that moment.

He held you on his arms once again, his hands traveling on your body. One hand ended up on your neck, just getting a hold in there while the other went back to your breasts, caring them, stimulating them… giving them the attention that they deserved.

You rocked your but on his hard on. Both of you looked at your reflections, you never thought it would excite you this much. He teased your entrance with his dick making you whimper and squirm. “Oh, please… please…” you begged, the wait making you ache and burn for him.

Who was him to deny you something when you asked so sweetly? Without any warning he trusted deeply into you, you moaned almost screaming, your fingers tugging his hair a little harsher than usual. “Fuck. I. Love. Ya. So. Fucking. Much.” For each word a trust, deep, certain, at the right spot.

You wasn’t able to say anything, lost in bliss and desire the only thing that left your mouth were moans and whimpers. With your free hand you got a handful of his but pressing him deeply into you if that was even possible. You looked at both of you in the mirror, Daryl trusting his hips on you, your bodies trembling out of pleasure and glistening with sweat. You never saw anything hotter.

His hand stopped taking care of your tits going down your body just to tease your clit, stimulate it and build your pleasure. He’s main mission was to pleasure you and if he could he’d do it every single day and minute of his life.

A turmoil building on your lower stomach, his name leaving your lips. Your walls clenching around him, indicating you were close to your high, his cock twitching in a way telling you he was close too. He turned your head to the side taking your lips on his in a passionate kiss, and as he hit that spongy spot inside of you sending you to your edge, he found his shooting his seed in you as you squeezed around him. “I love you!” You said while descending from your high, finally being able to speak.

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writing-makes-me-human · 1 year

Note

HEYYYYYY

I couldn't help but see your requests were open l😏

So I wanted to ask for a human reader who Neteyam finds but he goes to kill her and she kinda charms him so he stops?

Then they become mates, the story and stuff is all up to you but yeahhhh that's my idea

I LOVE YOUR WRITING BTW AND I HAVE READ NEARLY EVERYTHING!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

Thank you for the lovely words and your support it gives my writing purpose <3

Here is your request, I really hope you like it!

I named it Charming Killer after your request.

ps: If people have put in a request it is on its way!

┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑

Pairing: Neteyam x reader

Part Two

Summary: You get chased into the wilds of Pandora with a broken communication collar and a bullet wound, but Neteyam finds you. He goes to kill you but an omen from Eywa stops him, and as he approaches you he realizes you are his destined mate.

Warnings: blood and injury were mentioned, nothing else.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I’m taking a quick little break from writing for the same two series and breaking out to some requests. Check my master list for my posting schedule for Love and Guests. And what are we feeling? Part two or keep this as a one-shot? (God why did I just offer to create a new series but also this is such a cool idea and I want to write more)

Neteyam didn't like humans, and he never had. His mother had raised him to stay away from them as much as possible, and he had obeyed to keep her happy, but as he grew up and his siblings came back from ventures to the human labs that lay beyond their village with stories about Norm and Max in their human forms, he found his simple obligation of dislike turn into hatred.

Neteyam avoided all of the dream walkers that operated in his village to the best of his ability. His father advised them not to bother his eldest son or his wife, which they respectably agreed to. Still, even if they weren't around him Neteyam could always feel their presence, and it irked him.

One day, this feeling cropped up in his mind as he was out in the rugged outback of Pandora, hunting a stray tapirus for his mother.

He jumped from a tree to the ground as he continued to track, but then as Neteyam pressed his fingers into the newest set of prints in the dirt, he smelt it.

It was the distinct smell that often surrounded humans, something of a mixture between an unnatural chemical smell and wafts of artificial scents that attracted them to one another. Still, to Na'vi, the smell was a distinct warning.

He raised his head, abandoning the hunt in favour of locating the emitter of the stench that was offending him.

He followed his nose for a few meters, and then with the tip of his bow, he dipped a low-hanging branch to divulge a clearing.

There, standing in the middle with not a soul around was you, trying to aid an injury to your lower arm and fix a device at the same time with only one working hand.

He quirked his brow in confusion. He had never heard of you from his father, which only led to one conclusion: you were a sky person under Quaritch's jurisdiction.

He watched you for a few seconds to take inventory of what you were doing all alone in the middle of Pandora without a jarhead next to you with a gun. He could tell immediately you were not military because you were pacing around in a circle, speaking a mile an hour to yourself, using words he didn't understand with no sign of a weapon anywhere on your person.

His eyes dipped to your arm, which you were clenching shut as blood dripped onto the ground and soaked itself into the fabric of your shirt.

You were in shock from what Neteyam could interpret in distinction to your actions. The wound didn't seem like it had come from an attack by any beast on his planet because you would surely be dead if that were the case.

The injury looked like a bullet wound which only charged his curious streak further, but you were human, and one less sky person on this planet was a plus for his cause. So, he nestled down on the ground and silently replaced the branch so he could pull back his bow and aim his righteous arrow at your head.

He felt his heart beat in rhythm with your steps as you desperately tried to fix a communication com device with one hand, fighting against the panic that was starting to take your breath away.

The wilderness was vast, and you could feel the race against time fight in opposition to the blood which was slowly collecting a trail by your feet.

He let out his breath and readied the shot, but before he could let it go, a seedling from the tree of souls floated into his vision and landed on his hand, a silent plea not to fire.

He was stunned for a few seconds and held his posture, but when the seedling took off again, he finally let his hands relax and brought the longbow back down to his lap.

He was captivated now as he tried to lean closer through the foliage to see your actions. Eywa had spoken, and he would not kill you.

He thought back to the story his mother had often told her children about how she met his father, and his nose scrunched up at the similarities between the two stories.

He decided he would not take you to his father, and he would leave you here. If Eywa didn't want him to kill you, that was fine but he wouldn't become responsible for your safety.

He had filled his hunger for curiosity, and the thought of returning to his hunting materialized in his brain. With that in mind, he turned to step away, but as soon as he moved, another seedling crashed into his chest, making him stutter back in an effort not to crush the precious soul.

The sound of crunching leaves caught your attention, and you rotated on your heels in the direction of Neteyam. He kept his head low and out of your sight before he shook his head at the seedling which hovered in front of his face.

You couldn't see anything, but the sound was distinct, so you darted your eyes around to try and find anything to defend yourself with, but your search was broken when you found a white seedling floating just to the side of Neteyam's hiding spot.

You gasped as two other seedlings joined the beautiful sprite. They all floated towards you, pushing air down as they climbed higher and higher up on their way to you.

Neteyam let his eyes leave the seed in front of his way and looked towards you. Your face was lit up at the sight of the seeds, and it seemed their appearance had taken all of your focus off the pain and the gadget in your hand because you softly stepped forward to greet the specimens.

He watched as you steadily reached out a shaky hand to the wood sprites, laughing uneasily as they all gently landed along the uninjured arm.

You looked so excited at their presence, and that confirmed his suspicions of your scientific origin.

You took another step forward, and Neteyam cursed mentally as he turned to leave, but again, the seed of Eywa stopped him with its stagnant stature. The sign was clear. He had to speak with you. He rolled his eyes and held back a sigh but acted to comply with the great mother's desires.

He stood to his full height and stared at you with a frown. You still hadn't noticed him, but when he smacked the lower branch away and tramped forward, the white sprites took off and left you to yearn after them with a sad stare.

What was so special about you? He wondered. You were just another arrogant human who was part of an unkillable mass that had arrived here with an open palm.

Your eyes then fell from the vacating pure souls and settled on the 10ft Na'vi in front of you, which caused a shriek.

Immediately you stumbled back and tried to start protesting for your life at the sign of his lethal bow, but you stopped when you noticed he was staring at you with an unwavering eye filled with mystery.

You called something to him, but he only understood the odd word. You had jumped straight into elucidating that you were not a threat which made him want to laugh.

Of course, you weren't a threat. You were standing here like the perfect prey for any number of predators to pounce on and devour. He could kill you with a single toss, and the idea that he feared you was amusing him.

He took another step, and this time you crouched down, letting your hand leave the wound to try and coax him to stay away from you like he was a stray animal that could be redirected.

The bright blood on your hand shone in the light, your face was pale compared to the rest of you, and he felt a pang of pity for you, making him scowl at himself for his stupidity.

He stepped forward some more, his tail flickering behind him with agitation as he pulled the bow over his head and let the string fall over his chest.

"Who are you?" He growled as he marched further into the clearing.

His body was tall and very masculine, his muscles hugged his body as he looked down at you with contempt, and those were your only thoughts as the Na’vi man looked ready to murder you.

Your face wrinkled in confusion as you shrugged one of your shoulders at his words, your head shook from side to side in order to tell him you had no idea what he was saying.

He rolled his eyes at your conceited unknowingness, but just as he was about to start yelling at you, he paused as your scent hit him.

The standard note of human was definitely there, but there was something else, something sweet that had him hooked the second now that it registered in him.

At first, he thought you had used some chemical warfare on him, but when your confused face only intensified as he took a carnivorous inhale at the air, he knew the fragrance was only coming from your skin.

He took another stride, and the movement triggered your fight or flight. You tried to stand to run, but he grabbed your intact arm and gently yanked it forward, making you drop the communication device to the ground with a clatter.

You tried objecting to his harsh handling of you and cursed at him in English. He ignored you, and without further conversation, he shoved his face into the crevice on your neck and pushed your jaw up with his forehead so that your neck lay before him with no guard.

He took deep whiffs of your scent and nestled deeper so he could bring in as much as his body and the restrictive oxygen mask you were wearing would let him take. His tail flicked wildly behind him as he tried to commit the smell to memory. It smelt something crossed between a sugary treat and a warm fresh wood scent that made his brain fizz with the desire to have more of it closer.

He could feel your heartbeat on his cheek, but he ignored it. His need for the scent consumed him. He was only brought back to reality when you let out a whine at his very close touch that was making you uncomfortable.

He ripped his head back and shook it wildly, trying to shake off the remnants that tickled his brain. Your eyes that had originally been looking at him with confusion were now eyeing him up and down with uncertainty.

He dropped your arm and felt his body surge at the loss of touch. You faltered backward as he let you go but didn't try to run again, which he appreciated.

He was attracted to you, that was certain, and it made his body lurch with disgust, but before he could spend longer than a few seconds being disgusted, the scent of your skin drilled its way back into his brain, and he was overcome with butterflies that attacked his stomach.

You spoke again; this time, he identified the words 'Na'vi' and the name Max from your speech. He cocked his head, and you watched as his braids fell to one side of his head as he brought his face closer to yours to stare into your eyes.

You took a step back, but he followed you. He decided to ignore whatever you were saying and let his exploratory nature grab hold of him. He extended his head around to stare at your body, and you let him touch you as he pleased with your chest heaving in anxiety that at any moment he would have his fill of interest peaked and he would draw back to kill you.

His fingers came to your waist and gripped the lower hem of your elastic shirt, and pulled at it before letting it snap back, which made you smile a little despite the fear raging through you. Perhaps the blood loss was making you hysterical.

His ears twitched at the sound of your giggles that accompanied the smile, and his scrutinizing eyes turned softer as he reached forward and repeated the action, letting you huff with amusement.

He continued his curious search of you and let his fingers prod your cargo pants. You watched with your own set of prying eyes as he leaned down so he could gather the material between his fingers and rub it together to feel the texture. He let it fall back into place and pulled himself back up to his full height, which made your smile falter as you reminded yourself he was not a curious child and was a fully grown Na'avi hunter, if his bow was anything to go by.

The silence was loud, but it communicated volumes. You could tell by his erratic behavior that he wasn't going to kill you, but he was clearly fighting an inner conflict with his actions.

You didn't know much about the natives, but you knew one thing that had been hammered into your head since orientation day on this planet, Na'vi killed sky people on sight, and this man didn't look like he was reaching for his bow anytime soon, so what was he doing?

You tried your luck and reached out your hand to poke his bare chest before quickly retracting, making him let out his own small chuckle at your scared actions. You smiled cautiously before you reached out and ran a finger over the string of his bow that dug into his front, watching his chest shiver at your touch before you finally pulled back and stared up at him.

He let his smile disappear, and his frown replaced it as he stuck out his hand to grab your oxygen mask, but this seemed to be a step too far because you pulled back and quietly said something he didn't understand, but he knew it was a denial.

He was satisfied with his investigation and pulled himself back to look down at you while you awkwardly returned your hand to clutching the hole in your body that wasn't meant to be there.

Neteyam felt the pity in his heart worsen at your predicament, and he decided that he wanted to help, even though his naturally taught ethics told him it was wrong. He knew that the only reason his body was reacting to you like this, along with the cause of the omens from Eywa, meant one thing, but he was trying to suppress that epiphany for the moment.

He couldn't understand your language enough, but the device that lay on the ground behind him was obviously crucial to you. Hence he walked over to it and picked it up, this caused a chain reaction as you stumbled forward and tried to take it back from him with a yelp of protest, but he placed his hand on your forearm and gently pushed you back, which calmed you down enough that he could look at the tool.

He stood up and held the com to his face to see if it was fixable. Jake had a few of these around, and Neteyam had to wear one for a long time when he was younger, but this technology was slightly newer than anything Neteyam had seen for a while.

He flipped the collar over in his palm, and to his surprise, he immediately zoned in on the issue. The chip that powered it was simply dislodged and needed to be adjusted, so he pushed it back gently and shook it a few times, much to your aggrievement, and then when the red light sparked back to life he crouched down and placed it in your hands.

Your eyes widened in surprise as the collar was now partially workable.

You looked up at him, and his breath caught as your beautiful eyes gazed into his own with such pure gratitude in them that it made him want to keep you close to him forever, as his mate.

And just like that, the epiphany broke the surface of his mind and his pupils swell as he realized why you smelt so divine and why your laugh made his body weak. You were his mate. Even without the means to make the neural link or any of the accompanying features found on Na'vi women that were deemed as attractive, he knew as he observed you desperately press down on the com and speak into it that you were his destined partner.

The intercom sparked to life, and he heard the sound of Max's voice come through it. This interaction only worked to intrigue him more than last time, as he tried to figure out what you were doing all alone out here with a broken body, seeking out the rouge scientists.

You quickly yelled back to Max with relief overthrowing your face, which made Neteyam smile again as he watched you let out a consoled chuckle.

You spoke for a few more seconds, and Neteyam let the sound of your strange accent wrap around him before you broke his trance and held up the collar to him. He quirked a brow, but you shook the device in your hand and nodded for him to take it.

He gently took the end of the com and brought it to his ear so he could listen to Max translate what was happening to him in Na'vi.

Max was shocked to find out it was Neteyam who had saved his exposed spy from Hell's gate, but he described your issue to Neteyam, and he agreed to take you to the laboratories on the edge of his village so you could be patched up.

He returned the device and pulled off his bow to set himself up to walk you through the wild to the labs.

You hadn't understood Max's translation, so you pulled the com closer and tried to remain polite as you smiled up at Neteyam, but he could tell you were not pleased with the improvised escort that was surely threatening to your tiny stature.

When the conversation was over, you sighed and dropped the intercom to your side, gripping it tightly as you looked back up at Neteyam, who was now tying his hair of individual braids up with a hair-tie while holding the bow between his teeth.

He looked like a beautiful angel from your angle as he effortlessly strung up his hair, showing off his triceps and pecs while his canines were left exposed around the wooden bow. He pulled an arrow from behind his back and fit it into the bow. Neteyam then set off into the woods again, with your body mindlessly following the god-like boy.

You watched him move; he was the most graceful thing you had ever seen. His attitude was strange, and while you couldn't understand a word he was saying, you finally identified his aura as one of interest and possible endearment rather than intimidation.

He looked over his shoulder and called out a sentence to you that once again you couldn't understand but you just nodded and tried to sustain his pace.

He looked over his shoulder every few steps, but it was clear you were struggling to keep up with him as the pain from your injury was now becoming prevalent thanks to your adrenaline levels being brought down.

Neteyam grumbled something under his breath but turned to you, sliding the bow and arrow over himself again as he stepped towards you.

You backed up a little as his alarming size came toward you, but he reached out and gently touched your shoulder so you could see that he was trying to suggest an idea.

"You're never gonna get there if I don't carry you, come here", he stared into your eyes, repeating the sentence at least three times before he tut his tongue in annoyance and reached down to hoist your legs into his arms so he could carry you bridle style.

You screeched, and his ears flickered at the sharp noise before you hissed out and clung onto him as tightly as you could while he rose you high above the ground. He could feel your heart rate speed up, and he was dumbfounded as to why you were reacting this way to him just holding you.

You said a word, and it rang a bell in his head as he tried to remember it.

Oh, height.

He quickly put you down, and you tried to relax your breathing after being speedily hauled into the air by about 7 or 8 feet and then replaced just as swiftly.

You tried to balance yourself on his leg as you felt your heart calm down, heights weren't your strong point, but you had to agree that it was going to be the best way to get there with the time restraint your injury put on you.

He spoke something else as he crouched down, putting himself at eye level with you.

"I can't understand you!" You hopelessly whimpered as your hand came to rest on his shoulder so you could try and take the pain off your other limb.

His ears downturned at the sound of your desperate groaning, and he remained silent for a second, looking off to the side in thought.

You took a deep breath, dragging his attention back to you. You stared into his eyes for a second before you nodded and held out your arm for him to take with a single word.

"Slow", your eyes tried to show bravery, but your body was still shaking like a leaf under his touch.

He felt a part of his body twitch at your word that was paired with heavy eye contact and an out-of-breath tone, but he ignored it.

This time he went much slower as he swept his hands underneath your thighs and lifted you into the air. He allowed you to get a good hold around his neck so that you weren't afraid of falling, lying to himself that the touch was for your comfort and not his own.

When you were to live with him once you agreed to be his mate, he had to get used to going slower with things. It was lucky for you that he had probably the best patience out of any of his family.

You weighed nothing to him, so he set off as soon as you were steady, and your fear slowly gave weight to amusement as his long legs steeped over each obstacle in his way that would have taken you minutes to clamber over with your one arm pinned to your side.

The whole way there, you could feel his grip around the lower part of your legs tighten when you tried to clamber closer to him, and you wanted to apologize for invading his space and deterring him from his task that he would have had to abandon to help you, but the words couldn't come out.

It took about twenty minutes of heel-and-toe walking before he finally managed to get you to the lab's opening.

Upon seeing the large metal containers, he screeched to a stop, and you looked at his face with confusion as he seemed to have caught your fear like a contagious disease as his face scrunched up. He didn't dare go any further.

Neteyam let his hands slip under your armpits and gently set you down on the ground. He looked down at you and then glanced at the containers behind you.

You were a sky person, and while he couldn't deny that you reeked of his mate, this was the most unlikely pairing anyone had seen.

You called out to him, not by name, as he hadn't told you, but he finally sighed and slid back down to a crouch as he found he had to do a lot when talking to you.

"I will be back for you, my mate, until then, look after yourself better, now go get patched up", he pressed one of his hands into the side of your head, and you lovingly pushed against his palm with a sad smile as you took his words as an apology for needing to go.

"Thank you--" You trailed off as you tried to use the silence to ask for his name.

"Neteyam", he stated with that boyish smile overtaking his features again.

"Neteyam", you repeated as you nodded, feeling the skin of his rough palm rub against you.

"You?" He found the word in English and spoke it with a heavy accent, making your smile turn to a grin.

"Y/n", you stated with a gleam in your eye.

"Y/n", he said the name verbatim to you and nodded to himself as the sound of a door opening ruined the moment.

He quickly pulled back from you and stood back up, allowing his height to take over the silent threat as Max stood on the steps to the metal lab with his hands raised to show he was unarmed as he called out to you and asked if you were all right.

"Goodbye, y/n", Neteyam’s accent was incredibly thick, and it made your skin shiver as he quickly put his fingers to his forehead and retracted them in a respectful farewell before he turned on his tail and walked back into the wilderness of Pandora, leaving you alone with your own kind.

#x reader #fanfic #neteyam imagine #neteyam x reader #neteyam headcanons #avatar 2022 #avatar x reader #avatar way of water x reader #avatar way of water #avatar #neteyam #xreader #pandora #awow fanfic #awow x reader #awow imagines #way of water

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dixons-sunshine · 2 months

Text

Daryl Dixon x Pregnant!Reader headcannons

*GIF isn't mine*

Warnings: Sexual content, pregnancy (obviously), morning sickness.

Word count: 853.

A/n: Basically just a collection of things I think Daryl would do if his s/o was pregnant.

To the people who sent requests, thank you so much for them! I'll get started on them right away. And as always, my requests are open for any TWD requests!

—

★The moment you told Daryl you were pregnant, he was scared and excited at the same time.

★Scared because he didn't know what parenthood would have in store for him (he was also scared he'd end up being like his father), but excited because he was starting a family with the love of his life—you.

★He'd be at your beck and call 24/7—he knew he had jobs to do around the community, but his girl and his unborn baby were his number one priority.

★Cravings? He'd make pantry runs for you. If the pantry didn't have what you wanted, he'd go on a run to find it for you, or send someone else to find it if you didn't want him to leave.

★If you were feeling clingy that day and didn't want him to leave your side, you best believe he'd stay practically glued to your side. The only exception would be if he was desperately needed for something extremely important, but if that wasn't the case? One wouldn't find him away from you.

★He would be so scared to have sex during your pregnancy. Even if you assured him multiple times that it wouldn't affect the baby in the slightest, he would still refuse. If you wanted pleasure, he'd eat you out like a starved man that's been denied a banquet for years, no problem, but full-blown sex is something he doesn't want to do; he doesn't want to hurt his little one.

★Daryl would be undeterred by your mood swings. Growing up with his father and brother, both of who's moods could change in a moment's notice, made him no stranger to sudden mood shifts. However, you were the love of his life and the mom of his unborn baby, so he treated your mood swings with more care and patience than he ever did with his father or brother. In his mind, your body was working overtime, so of course your emotions would be all over the place.

★Daryl would also be undeterred by your morning sickness. He was so used to being covered in blood and walker guts all the time that a bit of vomit would be the least of his worries.

★Daryl would pull your hair back and out of your face while you vomit, rubbing one of his hands over your back in gentle movements.

★Daryl would love laying his head on your baby bump. He'd place gentle kisses on your stomach while your hands softly tread through his hair, all the while wondering how he got so lucky with you, and how the two of you would be starting a family soon—something that he never would've thought he'd do before the apocalypse and before he met you—before he'd fall asleep on your stomach.

★Daryl would be the type of guy who'd think you look absolutely stunning during your pregnancy. Daryl always thought you looked beautiful, no matter what, but there was something about seeing you glow while your stomach continued to gradually grow as your and his baby grew that made you even more beautiful to him.

★That being said, if anybody even so much as looked at you wrong during your pregnancy, Daryl wouldn't hesitate to put them in their place. Nobody was allowed to degrade you ever, and especially not while you were carrying a life the two of you created in you.

★Daryl would outright refuse to let you do any hard work. He knew that he couldn't stop you from helping out at all (a guy could dream), but he refused to let you do any heavy lifting or anything that would exhaust you too much. Yours and your baby's safety was his number one priority, and he wouldn't let anything happen to you just because some people in the community couldn't pick up some extra work.

★Daryl wouldn't let you talk down on yourself. With your growing stomach came the inability to fit into any of your clothes, and with that came insecurity, but he'd always go out of his way to make sure you knew that there was nothing wrong with you or your body. You were perfect to him.

★Your clothes don't fit you anymore? Wear his. There's just something in him that loves seeing his clothes on his woman while she's pregnant with his baby. It drives him crazy in a good way.

★If there was an ultrasound available and the two of you went to yours, Daryl would tear up a little bit when he saw his little one for the first time. He'd take your hand in his and when the doctor left, he'd give you gentle, loving kisses.

★“Look at tha'. There's our baby, our lil' one.”

—

I'll come back and add on once I think of more.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

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lokisgoodgirl · 7 months

Text

Changing Seasons: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (1) A long journey with Thor, Steve and Loki ends in a ramshackle country cottage. But really, it's just begun. (w/c 3.8k) Warnings: Minors DNI. Language. Ex-Loki. Smut references. Humour/Mild angst. Recommended Folklore Track: The 1

This is fine.

It’s just five days. In this...cottage. With your ex. You’ll barely see him.

The tiny two story building sat before you, twisting wisteria claiming rough stoned walls. Burnt orange leaves sparked against the morning chill, rooted into windowsills and crumbling brickwork.

It was small. Really small.

You stretched your legs, observing Thor waddle from the car, laden with suitcases.

One fell.

“Watch that!” Steve snapped, on his last nerve after the drive from the Essex compound. A hand flew to his neck, massaging the twinge caused by six hours squashed in the back of a hastily acquired hatchback. “Your collection of personal toys, Rogers?” Loki drawled, letting his mirth-filled eyes slide between the two men. “Yes, brother do be careful. We wouldn’t want the captain to be without an outlet.” Steve’s face flushed, while Thor staggered valiantly onward to the cottage door. “I still don’t understand why we didn’t take the train,” Loki muttered with a theatrical sigh, a single brush down the front of his suit making every well-worn crease evaporate. “The two of you on a train,” Steve spat incredulously, “wouldn’t be great for subtlety.”

Every syllable was laden with frustration as he heaved another case from the trunk. The god nodded. “Even I must admit, this is much more entertaining Rogers” he replied, motioning towards the cottage at the exact moment Thor’s forehead smacked against the low awning.

The suitcases fell in predictable succession. “Jeepers criminey-” Steve gasped, lunging forwards.

You rolled your eyes, smiling just Loki glanced backwards. A wolfish grin ignited. Shit. With narrowed eyes, he began to glide around the Fiat like a day-walker. His hair was slicked back, falling over the shoulders of a black suit more appropriate to fashion week than training in the wilds of the Lake District. You’d tried not to look at him much on the way here. For obvious reasons. He swaggered with resolute precision, infuriatingly erotic as he always was. It was sick, how he looked so good. Like he hadn’t been in the same car as the rest of you, gorging on jelly babies and squished krispy kremes foraged along the motorway. You had practised for this moment, and to your credit; your face remained perfectly straight. Your posture, casual. Unbothered, as Steve and Thor argued further up the path.

‘My slacks were perfectly folded in New York. If there is any rumplage Odinson- then I’ll know who to blame.’

‘Carry your own damn suitcases, then-’ ‘-I would’ve, if you hadn’t been such a dandy-show-off’

You spun away from your incoming ex, steadying your racing heart as you focused on the horizon. Mist hung over the rusted treeline, green and sienna twisting together and dipping down to a sprawling lake about a mile away, you reckoned, spread against the sunrise. Loki’s playful scathing broke the calm. “You haven’t said two words to me in almost twelve hours, Agent,” he purred. “I’m impressed.” There was a time that kind of talk would have brought you to your knees. But not anymore, you lied to yourself, clenching. With your eyes still lowered, you tilted your chin towards him. Defiantly, slowly, you raised them; catching his inscrutable stare like a rifle’s scope. You raised your eyebrows expectantly, lips sealed. Loki scoffed, looking into the distance. His breath was fog. “I don’t know what else I expected,” he muttered quietly.

You stood in silence, backs turned to the domestic carnage unfolding at the cottage door. Letting your gaze roll over the mountains. Early morning autumnal air stung the back of your throat. Fresh pine and wisps of smoke from unseen chimneys, far away. Amber hues spindled along the surface of the lake a mile below, rippling methodically. You fought the urge to look at him.

His eyes would look beautiful in this kind of light. Always had. “It reminds me of home,” he murmured wistfully. It sank into the crisp air, the softness of the tone you still dreamt about curling around your body like smoke. Loki’s scent mingled with the breeze, reminding you of nights spent wrapped around him as you slept in snatches. His hand never far from your own. His love draped over you like a cloak.

A shiver ran down your spine.

You felt him lean in, the warmth of his breath against your skin drawing closer before it retreated. “Asgard,” he added condescendingly. “Although, Asgard isn’t quite as...rustic.” He lifted a foot, making a show of wiping a sole on the wet grass.

You grit your teeth. It never ended. He couldn’t help himself, even after everything that had happened between you. The snake tightened inside your belly, unfurling and poised to strike; regrettable words bubbling behind your teeth. “Let’s just get through this week, shall we?” Loki snapped, before turning away. The crunch of twigs beneath his retreating footsteps was all you heard as the chill stung your eyes. Just the chill.

"I carry the paraphernalia so I shall be first across the threshold thank you very much,” Thor grumped, jostling Steve from his path and shuffling sideways through the frame. Steve grimaced, nodding at Loki to follow his brother. “Thank you,” Loki said curtly; noting the captain’s gaze flicker to where you stood overlooking the lake in a valiant attempt to remain mysterious. “She’s quite well,” he added presumptively.

Steve frowned. “She was quiet on the drive. Even let Thor play his music. Not like her” he said, leaning against the cottage wall before recoiling. “Urgh, it’s damp.” Loki chuckled. “Of course it is. Welcome to the northern hemisphere, Rogers. What you need, is some leather” he winked.

He watched the captain pat his shirt fruitlessly as a stain blossomed through the pale cotton, clearing his throat softly. “She’s still a little...put out... by our parting of ways. Can’t blame her, really. I mean-” He gestured to himself with a consillatory sigh. “She’ll warm up-”

Loki cast a glance around, realising he wasn’t sure if the hallway was colder than the exterior. “-metaphorically, anyway.”

Steve nodded sagely. “To everything there is a season…” he mused. Loki frowned, turning away. He waved a dismissive hand. “You know I do not traffic in colloquialisms, Rogers” he scoffed with his back turned. Entering the kitchen, Loki immediately bumped his shin on a discarded suitcase. He wrinkled his nose.

A single lightbulb hung from the ceiling, barely illuminating the cramped space. Ageing wallpaper clung valiantly to its charge, whimsical ducks and geese parading in an inexplicable march. Thor stood hunched over the sink, running spluttering water into the world’s smallest kettle. The ceiling was inches from his head. “Tea, brother?” he chirped. Loki nodded, wondering how the hell they’d ended up here. “Rogers?” he enquired innocently. Steve’s head popped round the doorframe.

“Howdy!” Loki closed his eyes and took a breath. “Rogers,” he repeated. “Remind me why this week is truly necessary?” Steve released a forced chuckle. “I’ll get to that. Hang tight.” He disappeared, shouting your name down the path. By the time the two of you returned, Loki had seidred the suitcases to their respective destinations. He had secured the largest room for himself, of course. Although that wasn’t saying much. Rogers and Thor would be sharing. Loki had the sneaking suspicion that was not the plan – but alas for them – it was their new reality.

Four mismatched mugs of steaming tea sat on the small square table in the corner. Loki sat in one chair, legs crossed. Thor in the other, looking decidedly squashed.

Steve closed the kitchen door while you leant against the counter-top, arms folded. “I made tea,” Thor smiled, pleased with himself as he held it forth like an offering. You accepted. Loki noted the shiver that shook your shoulders as the hot mug entered your cupped grasp. A fleeting smile of pleasure skating across your cheeks. He’d missed that, he found. “Please, take my s-” Loki started, beginning to rise. Habit. “I’ll stand,” you replied curtly. Loki nodded, sinking down. An uncomfortable silence filled the room as an oblivious Steve squinted suspiciously out the window while closing the blinds. “Alrighty then-” he said, turning. His enthusiastic glances bounced to each of them in turn. Thor adjusted himself, rewarded with the malevolent warning creak of a chair leg.

“As anyone who was listening during our meetings will know,” Steve paused, staring at Loki, “it’s come to my attention that our manual outdoor skills are somewhat lacking. Anything happens to our abilities or comms while we’re on a rugged mission and booyah,” he made a burst with his fingers, “pardon my french – but we’re up crud creek without a paddle.” Loki scoffed. “Hardly-” “This week we’ll be getting back to basics. You two-” Steve gestured between the gods seated at the withered dining set, “especially. It’s all magic and brawny shenanigans until you need to skin a rabbit.” He looked to you warily, “Metaphorically, of course. Our resident expert will give us instruction, and we’ll go from there-” Steve nodded to you, folding his arms. Loki rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you understand how magic-” “No weak links.” he continued, un-phased. He had his very serious face on. “And I count myself in this too. We need to be confident that if something happens, and we’re out in the wilds...we can handle ourselves. Survive, until help arrives.” “But why here?” Loki whined, “we have the facilities to simulate the environment back in-” Steve held up a hand. “No one can know earth’s mightiest heroes are out here learning outdoorsing 101, Laufeyson. Imagine the press. No.” He shook his head. “This is absurd,” Loki muttered into his tea.

“Let’s try and have fun. At the very least, it’s a week in the fresh air.” Loki’s eyes rose, your words and tone clearly rehearsed. There was a weak smile on your face, but it didn’t reach your eyes. He’d become intimately acquainted with that look in the final months of your relationship.

Silence hung in the kitchen. “And the two of you will be alright, will you?” Thor boomed, stretching a leg which reached halfway across the floor. He took a sip of tea as Steve’s face went pink.

“I mean, with the breakup. Although I suppose its better than being kept awake by the ooo’ing and ahhh’ing through the walls, isn’t it Rogers?” He began to chortle, “remember...remember in- where was it? Oh, Columbia. Norns, what a-”

“-Brother,” Loki snarled. Hair bristled on the back of his neck. You cleared your throat. “Loki and I have an understanding. There’s no animosity between us-” “Isn’t there? News to me,” Loki mumbled petulantly, running a finger across the plastic table cloth. He could almost hear the grind of your teeth as you spoke pointedly to Thor. “Well I intend on remaining professional. I’m sure your brother is the same.” Loki shook his head, snorting. “Professional?” he spat incredulously. “What need have I to be professional? I am a god.” “And there it is,” you began, temperature rising before Steve patted down the air.

“How about we go check out the bedrooms?” he said. Everyone murmured agreement. And somewhere between Loki cursing his temper, and the babble of his brother’s half-hearted apology- you were gone.

Ten minutes later, Loki found himself staring at the same spot on the wall he had been for the last eight. It was meditative almost. On the other side of the wall at the end of his bed, was your room. Small, rectangular. Barely space for more than the single bed. But Loki had a feeling you didn’t mind.

You had settled on the mattress around seven minutes ago after unpacking, the comforting creak of springs alerting him. What were you doing, he wondered. Thinking. Feeling? He shook the thought from his mind, reminding himself that was no longer his business. But the thought crawled back with the vengeance of a dying wasp. If we were together still, I’d have made her climax twice on this bed by now.

His clothing hung in a drab single wardrobe. When in Nilfheim, he’d surmised. The garments were simple, and perfunctory. All manner of base layers and fleece lined items in vapid shades which lacked even a morsel of style. Not a sniff of leather. And zips in the most unflattering places.

Loki shuddered.

His ears pricked as he heard a wooden board in your room creak, tracking the slow amble of five steps it took to cross the floor from end to end. She’s looking out the window, he mused.

‘Get your hands off my undergarments,’ Thor’s voice was crisp and menacing through the wall to Loki’s left. ‘Well, put them in a drawer like a gentleman.’ Steve snipped in response, barely muffled by the stone. ‘There are no drawers! Why must we reside in such a place, Rogers!?’ He has a point, Loki thought. ‘Because no one would expect it.’ Steve replied smugly.

There was a pause, but Loki could hear the thump of Thor’s boots as he rounded the twin beds, positioning himself for attack. His voice was low, and purposeful. ‘Just like you won’t expect...this.’ The inhuman sound of one of his brother’s legendary farts ripped through the wall.

Loki braced in the silence that followed, relishing the craft of his devious room organisation while Steve, he presumed, got some traction to exit through the window. ‘Jeepers,’ came the choked, disbelieving response of the captain through the wall. Jeepers indeed, Rogers, Loki smirked.

A sudden tinkle of restrained laughter perked his ears. It came from behind the wall in front of him. He froze, savouring each lilting rise and fall as you gave in to full-blown cackle. Wait for it.

He held his breath. You snorted. Loki grinned, letting himself bathe in the warmth of that laughter which used to lace his brightest moments. The nights, when you met after long days apart. He remembered when he would tickle you beneath his sheets in the Tower. When he would slide his hands over your squealing, curled form in apology, crawl on his knees beneath the covers and gently part your legs.

‘I just can’t help myself,’ he’d purr, kissing the smooth skin of your inner thigh. ‘Forgive me?’

And you always did. Until you hadn’t. You would rake your hand through his hair, lovingly humming his name as he ran his tongue up your plump slit; settling in to his long, languid worship. Loki sighed. He looked down in his lap, realising a thumb was digging into the palm of his clasped hands. He pushed it in harder, frowning. Fool.

Suddenly the door flew open. A red-faced Steve gripped the door-frame, breathing heavily. “Swap...with...me,” he gasped. Loki shook his head, heavy with feigned sympathy. “Afraid not, Rogers. Look, I unpacked and everything.” He pointed to the wardrobe. “Like a gentleman.”

Steve’s face flushed deeper, hanging his head in resignation. “Gosh-darnit,” he sighed under his breath. “Be downstairs and ready in five.”

A chorus of Blackcap birdsong fluttered and rolled over the bushes. Final frostings of morning clung to crisped leaves, slowly warming in the blast of breath-fog from three Avengers huddled around a large map. You watched with an amused smirk on your face, laughing inwardly that Steve thought a wardrobe full of Trepass could disguise their presence. Like three bears at a piglet’s tea party.

Thor held the compass, squinting. The rectangular instrument looked much like a stick of gum in his palm as he leant closer to the dial, searching for some unseen clue. You decided to have mercy.

“So you can see here,” you said gently, tracing your finger over the map, “to get to the lake we need to follow a bearing of 79 degrees….and we need to adjust for true North. Remember?” You moved the compass slightly. “Blast,” Thor growled. He was taking this very seriously. A bobble hat was pulled low on his brow, but even then, you could tell he was frowning. Loki chuckled derisively, smoothing a strand of inky hair from his jawline. You watched as it curled behind his ear. His beautiful, perfectly formed ear. “Volunteering for the next marker, Loki?” you asked calmly, watching his smug smirk fall. You switched back to Thor, now measuring points on the map diligently. Steve stood by his shoulder, taking notes on a small pad. “A-ha!” Thor shouted triumphantly. A dozen birds took off from the nearest tree, fleeing skyward.

Steve frowned. Stealth, it chided. The blonde god whipped his face to you in childish glee. “This way!” he pointed theatrically. You nodded, bathing in the pride spreading across the god of thunder’s face. It was Loki’s turn to frown. “Give me that,” he snipped, snatching the compass as Thor began to fold the map and lead the charge towards the next marker. “You’re just jealous brother. Clearly my skills of navigation are unmatched. Isn’t that so, Agent?” he postured loudly, clearing a branch from your path. It wasn’t often Thor truly had the upper hand. So you decided to push it a little higher. “Out of the three of you so far? Absolutely.” You beamed at him, seeing storm-clouds gather in Loki’s eyes out the corner of your own. His brows knitted together, chin pushing down into the thick roll of his scarf.

Thor hummed as you passed beneath his arm. “I always liked you, you know” he chuckled in hushed tones. Clearly, he’d seen the abject annoyance blossom on his brother’s face too.

You nodded conspiratorially, casting a glance back at your dejected ex as he picked his way over a patch of brambles, hands deep in his coat pockets. Steve followed behind, flicking through the pages of his pocketbook.

“Meh, it’s good for him,” you said diplomatically while shooting Thor a toothy grin.

He returned it.

Loki took each step carefully. He would be damned if a tangle of barbed shrubbery bested him the same day as his oaf of a brother.

He wouldn’t have gotten it without her help, he fumed; stepping quickly over a freshly steaming pile of suspicious pellets. His nose wrinkled, glancing up to where the two of you were sharing a moment. Blatant favouritism.

Gritting his teeth, his jaw nuzzled further beneath the coiled wool around his throat. A smile lit up your face as you shared some sort of inside jest with his brother. Loki remembered, all too well, how you used to look at him that way. How it was to bathe in the warm of your affection, the comfort of your hallowed inner circle.

He tried not to let his mind wander to your inner circle too much. The immediate twitch of his cock beneath the ghastly slacks was a timely reminder why. Steve’s shrill caw of warning came too late. “Watch your-” Loki froze, snarling as his eyes fell to the foot now wedged in a pile of shit. “How appropriate,” he sighed as he reluctantly pulled it free. He began to wipe it on the ground. “Just wipe it on the ground,” Rogers said. Loki's stare was daggers as he continued to do just that, cursing the Norns as you began to walk towards them. “What’s the hold up?” you said. Loki raised a hand to stop Steve from speaking, but alas.

“Laufeyson stepped in poop.” “Thank you, Rogers. I’m sure our ‘resident expert’ can see that.” Steve crouched down to his haunches, inspecting the boot-imprinted pile. “Looks like deer poop to me,” he observed diligently. “What do you think, Agent?” “Could be,” you said, matching his serious tone. “Nice spot.” Loki felt his jaw slacken.

What portal has opened and swallowed me to this unending nightmare.

He wiped the defiled heel of his clumpy, tan boot a final time, before marching up the ridge. He should be first. He had the compass, the ultimate instrument of inter-planetary survival, apparently. “Broth-” he started, before rocking back on his heels. “What is your problem?” he heard you hiss as you yanked the back of his jacket. Loki whipped round, every snippy retort that hovered on his lips evaporating as he saw your flushed face; wild with undisguised irritation. Steve was bumbling slowly up the hill, oblivious. “I…” Loki breathed, resisting the unfamiliar urge to tell the truth. You were still gripping a toggle that dangled from the back of his jacket. Loki looked at it, pausing a moment before refocusing with renewed vigour.

“I shouldn’t have to do this. It’s ridiculous, and you know it.” “Well why are you even here? Why don’t you just bugger off at a moment’s notice like you always do? Go whine to Heimdall or something?” Loki heard white noise bubble deep in his mind, rising to a roar as his vision tunnelled to the sight of your pupils blown wide with anger; lip trembling ever so slightly as you valiantly stood your ground. There she is, he thought with bizarre satisfaction. “Because I wouldn’t want to give the impression I’m not a team-player, would I?” he snarled through gritted teeth. You released your grip on his toggle with a scoff. “I’ll believe that when I see it. If you can last the whole trip, I’ll-”

“-You’ll what?” Loki heard himself say. The tone, he noted, was dangerously flirtatious.

You eyed him suspiciously.

“-I’ll be am-azed. The prim prince of Asgard, hacking it for a week out here. It might be good for you.” You see-sawed your palm. “But you know...low expectations.” Loki’s eyes narrowed as Steve emerged hovering over your shoulder. He suddenly reminded Loki very much of the geese parading on the kitchen walls. “I assure you, Agent, I shall pass your tests with flying colours.” He forced a smile. It hurt his cheeks in the cold. A little bow followed. A little flourish of his hand. He paused, baiting you. “I look forward to you proving me wrong, then,” you sniffed, re-adjusting the straps of your backpack.

Your eyes caught his a little longer than you’d intended.

Loki’s gaze fell to your lips, beginning to chap in the unforgiving English chill. How he wanted to capture them with his in that moment, moisten them with his breath and tongue and fiery adoration. To warm you, take care of you. As he should have when he had the chance, perhaps.

At the time, Loki wasn’t sure why - but nonetheless he held out the compass to Steve. “You take this one, Rogers.” “Alrighty then!” the captain quipped obliviously. His knees pumped up in a farcical jog down the ridge towards Thor, having an in-depth conversation with a passing sheep.

“Alrighty then,” you mimicked to yourself with quiet smile. Meeting Loki’s amused gaze, the smile fell. And without another word, you set off down the hill.

The god watched you pick your way gracefully over the autumnal landscape, breeze whipping your hair. He brushed his own from his eyes, pausing to reluctantly admire the rugged peaks and cliffs that curled in on their path. Burnt orange mingled with green, a rolling wave of seasons trickling through the vale. He could feel it all around him; through him – seeping beneath his skin, whether he willed it or no.

Change.

Chapter Two: Sticks and Stones A/N: Thank you so so much for reading this - if you did! I'm having so much fun with these bunch and I'm very excited to share this kind of ridiculous journey with you :) There won't be as many POV switches in subsequent chapters - we just needed it in this one. As always - love love to hear your thoughts. Gooooo Autumn!🍁

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mphountitled · 5 months

Text

𝐁𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐞

▪︎ Pairings: Anton x Fem!Reader | Sungchan x Fem!Reader

▪︎ Synopsis: Using the Campus weirdo to get back at your boyfriend probably wasn't the best idea.

▪︎ Warnings: Language, ToxicRelationship, Possessiveness, Obsession, Cheating, Under the table shenanigans, Smut (+18) Minors Dni, Dub/CON, Dark Fic, Rough Sex, Perv!Anton, Degradation Kink, Slight!Incel!Anton, Madonna/Whore Complex, Slapping, Grinding, Premature Ejaculation, Ownership Kink, Please proceed with caution

A/N: One moment I'm listening to 'Riot' by Summer Walker, and the next, this exists. Hell is empty.

Playlist when writing

Two things occur when Anton finds himself stealing intermittent glances at you over the black rims of his glasses. He realises that one: You are squirming in your seat, not from discomfort because of the October chill drifting to the lecture hall, but because he is doing something to you.

Anton holds his breath as he leans slightly back in his seat, delving deeper into the shadowy corner of the room as he steals a gaze down at his neighboring seat, more specifically, your lap under the desk.

Anton’s breath fumbles when he notices a hand, that clearly did not belong to you, being suffocated by your soft and exposed thighs. Sungchan, who sat on the opposite side of you, remained utterly unfazed while you continued your squirming.

The rest of the student body seem completely... oblivious to the lechery happening right under their noses. Even Anton begins to doubt his own existence. Whether he really hears the sweet and soft "Fuck," that escapes your lips in a small moan.

Is Anton truly that invisible that you and Sungchan just did not give a fuck about the fact that he was seated on the other side of you?

Whatever the case may, or may not be, Anton finds himself unable to think of anything outside of feigning nonchalance while he tried to steal sideways glances as your boyfriend fucking wrecking you in the middle of a lesson.

Anton had only his imagination and the pretty noises that escapes your lips intermittently as material.

"Please,"

His ears peak up at the sound, and Anton's fists curl in his lap at the desperation peppered in your voice. In his periphery, your head is craned up at Sungchan on the other side of you. Anton pictures your eyes wide with as you made a mess all over Sungchan's fingers.

You're pressing up against your boyfriend's side, your pretty little whining and whimpering being drowned out by the Professor's presentation.

"Please," you breathe softly, "I'll be good next time, I promise-"

Anton can not possibly hear what Sungchan has to say from this distance, but it succeeds in pushing your hips forward under the desk.

Anton not only feels the incredible need to cum in his sweats... untouched, but he also feels red hot anger at Sungchan for denying you something you clearly wanted so badly. Anton immediately thinks that if you were his, he would never purposely punish you like this.

If he ever had to punish you, it would be because you deserved it and it would be fair. He could never keep you from cumming because he craves to see you break for him.

Anton is compelled by his fury to push his own hand under the desk until he's rubbing his hard-on with 3 quick swipes before he stops, in fear of actually cumming in his pants in class. Poor Anton was left to shift uncomfortably in his seat until the end of a lesson.

Meanwhile you were sharing your sweet nothings with Sungchan- the endlessly charming, endlessly talented golden boy athlete. There was no reward at the end of your denial, however.

He watched you two part with a kiss, Sungchan dragging you in by the small of your hip while your arms splayed over his bowed neck. The excitement at having you away from your boyfriend brings him to his second realisation: he is following you, quite aimlessly, to the east side of campus.

This is a shadowy, forgotten place buried under a perpetual blanket of dew and autumn leaves. A place for illicit affairs to blossom under the awning of the campus willow tree. A place of open captivity for couples to safely act out their public sex fantasies by rolling around in tall grass surrounding the lake. Anton, evidently, has no business following you here. His fist clenches at his sides as that nauseating, fucking annoying feeling begins to simmer in his lower abdomen. A feeling beyond the lust that he always felt when your body was near. A more complicated, less simple feeling: strong unchallenged longing.

You encapsulate everything he has come to abhor about Academia. The modesty that befalls your bowed head when the professor praise you. The grace with which you accept your criticism and grammatical errors, nodding slowly to the feedback from your professor while clenching your Lit essay like a bomb on the verge of detonating. He hated how easily it all seemed to come to you… how quietly you moved through the academic year, haunting the mahogany hallways like an apparition of constant ennui.

He cannot find any valid excuse for this atomic interest in you, although Anton finds himself quite comfortable chalking it all up to boredom. All his papers that are due have been handed in and the papers that are not due are quickly approaching the same fate. There is nothing left for him to do, besides stand behind the willow tree and watch.

You stop at the banks of the horseshoe lake. He watches, again in vexing interest as you peer down at your phone before your shoulders deflate infinitesimally and you're discarding your phone to dry, brown grass.

It is not difficult to guess that not all was well within your relationship. You were everything Anton could ever need, but his roommate was a different case. Sungchan had a wandering eye.

Anton may not be very athletic but his ocular muscles work just fine, thank you very much.

Soon, you're kicking off your shiny horsebit loafers and undoing the sideways buttons of your pleated skirt. You're quite literally undressing in front of him, letting every piece of invasive clothing fall into the tall grass like the Venus painting by Boticelli… or was it Picasso?

Anton doesn't really care because you're naked now, and you don't know he's there. To any outsider, you're nothing special. You have a perfectly average body tied to a perfectly average girl… but why pray tell, is his cock stirring in the confines of his pants?

Guilt is not a thing Anton feels when he pushes his hands into his pants with his back pressed to the tree.

“Fuck-” He whispers, eyes zeroing in on the swell of your breasts.

He briefly entertains the fantasy of bending you over and fucking you from behind on the dry banks of the stranded lake but even that proves to be too much. Soon, he's emptying himself into his hand and you haven't even taken your panties off yet.

So clouded, is his mind by vast, episodic thoughts of fucking you and hurting you and making you scream, that your voice, now significantly closer, has him gasping and opening his previously clenched eyes. He shifts those wide eyes from the banks of the river, where you initially were, to where you now stand a few footsteps apart. Still naked, although your arms are crossed in front of your ample chest.

"How long have you been standing here?" The question is devoid of any hysteria, Anton notes. This eases him significantly until he's monotonously and honestly responding.

"Since you arrived."

"You followed me here?" The first sliver of emotion creeps into your voice, but Anton's eyes lower to your ample chest. With your arms still crossed, your nipples are mushed against them, revealing only a sliver of your areola, which is enough to have him hissing infinitesimally as he rolls his head back.

"Did you even hear what I said?" You ask, having yet to unfold your arms. Anton only shakes his head as his tortured eyes zero in on those pretty fucking tits once more. It's like you were teasing him unknowingly and it made his cock ache in a viscious amalgamation of pain and pleasure.

"I could call the cops," you hiss, still standing naked in front of him, "I should call the cops,"

"Are you telling me or asking me?" He grits out too through his teeth, "Either way you're not gonna be able to cum until that boyfriend of yours let's you."

You freeze then, and he knows he has you. Finding a window of opportunity in your uncertainty, Anton begins to prowl closer. Your alarm bells are ringing loud in your ears, but your feet are planted firmly in the soil as you crane your neck back. His shadow descends as he towers over you. Not taller than Sungchan, but still so incredibly tall.

While Sungchan wore his intimidation on his sleeve, it presented itself very differently in Anton. It sleeps. It sneaks up on you. It draws you in. Up until this very moment, Anton had been nothing but a non-threatning face in your Psych lecture. But you're looking up at him now with stark and raw fear coursing through your veins.

"I know," he says, in a light, almost effeminate voice. "I saw you."

Anton brings a large hand up to push down on your arms until they were swinging to your sides as he casually, almost hypnotically adds, "You're a slut, aren't you?"

You're not sure if you're nodding because his other hand is on the side of your head, fingers splaying over your entire profile. "A fucking pretty little slut," He nods to himself, black eyes glassy, "That's all you are-"

"Fuck," you squeak out, and the sound brings Anton immediately back to the events not so long ago. If his eyes could get blacker, they most certainly would.

"I knew it," he whispers before bending his tall frame down to attack you in a sloppy, ravishing kiss. Anton is pushing you against the tree the very same time his tongue forces itself into your mouth. It is invasive, and rough and he clearly gets off on meshing your tongues together because he's grinding his hard length against your thigh.

"Fuck, I'm gonna fuck you now," He exclaims, the loudest you've ever heard him as he trues to catch his voice. "You want me to fuck you. You want me to fuck you so bad, yeah?"

You're equal parts not present because of the brash turn of events. While your mind races for solutions as to how the fuck you got here, you're immediately brought back by a harsh, stinging slap.

Pain blossoms on the side of your cheek as your hands fly to cradle it.

"Answer me." He says calmly, as if his giant hand hadn't been used to cause actual harm across your face. Despite the tears instincively welling in your eyes from the impact, you don't find yourself put off. In fact, you don't find yourself pulling away from Anton at all.

"I want you to fuck me, Anton," you say carefully, never taking your eyes off him. Big doe eyes stare up at Anton until his resolves melt in a puddle, "I need your cock inside of me-"

"Fuck- oh God," he's whimpering before crowidng you against the tree. He's lifting your leg to hook onto his hips as sloppily draws his cock out of his sweats. The surprise you felt at yourself for being so willing, bled into shock as you stared down at Anton's hand stroking his cock. More specifically, the sheer size of it.

"You expect that to fit inside me?" You ask, only causing his cock to twitch in his hand. Anton brings another hand up to your neck, effectively pinning you against the tree as he says, "There's no getting out of this now," before he's forcing the swollen head of his cock into your weeping hole.

"Anton!- fuck!" His hips are already relentless as he fights to push himself all the way in with horny, shallow thrusts.

"All of it," he whimpers through clenched teeth, "I know you can take all of it, you fucking slut," his words have you moaning into the quiet air as a wave of wetness soaks his cock, effectively allowing him to slide all the way in. Anton is in complete shock as he watches his dick disappear inside of you. His ears perk at the pretty noises leaving your open mouth with every rough, thrust. He's rutting against you, his pelvis brushing over your clit and letting you see absolute stars.

"Mine," he whispers, "You're mine, aren't you?"

Completey aware that Anton could and would hurt you again if you refused to answer him, you pried your lips open, letting your affirmations wash over him like holy water. "Yours- fuck- ah! I'm yours, Ant-"

"Oh-fuck," he doesn't know if it's the sound of the nickname leaving your lips so naturally or the way you're clenching around him that has Anton spilling inside of you. Full. Your pussy is completely and utterly full of a steady stream of cum, that seems unending. The sensation allows you to slip into your own orgasm, made strikingly more powerful from your earlier denial and current satisfaction. You see stars and Anton only sees you, his beautiful girl that he got to please under a willow tree.

"F-Fuck," you exhale, still recovering from visious aftershocks.

"We didn't use a condom," his voice is back to being light, and airy fairy.

"Sorry?" You say.

"We didn't use a condom."

You look down at yourself at the cum seeping down your throat. Anton is still inside you, seemingly not wanting to move away even an inch. "Oh," you say, "Yeah."

"Does this mean you'll get pregnant?" The Innocence in his voice cannot mask the Pandora's box threatening under the surface. He's looking down at you with Bambi eyes. Eyes that shift and shape.

What have you done?

He doesn't love you and you're s lut for him

You'd rather I be a slut for you

Fuck-

He cannot help it, he slaps himself like an idiot in that moment

#riize x reader #riize x you #riize imagines #anton lee #anton lee x reader #anton x reader #anton x you #anton smut #anton riize #riize headcanons #riize #lee anton #lee anton x reader #lee chanyoung #lee chanyoung x reader #chanyoung x reader #sungchan x reader #sungchan smut #riize sungchan

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eddiemuonson · 4 months

Text

good partner

Summary: You get a call from Sam asking to help him and Bucky find the Super Soldiers, and get Zemo out of prison. You're still not done with your mission, but the former Winter Soldier doesn't like the idea of you around. This is mostly based on episode 4 of the show, "The Whole World is Watching". I wanted to write something light but you can request a smut.

Warning: Angst, mentions of The Winter Soldier, fluff | Word count: 4k

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

A loud thud echoed through the loft as Zemo hit his back against the hard floor. You stomped your foot on his chest and heard him grunt against gritted teeth.

"I'm in this case as well. You're just a rat who got lucky from getting out of a cell" You spat out. Both Sam and Bucky trying hard not to snort.

The baron still kept his gaze at you, holding your foot so tight you almost stumbled. He got up on his foot and wrapped a hand around your bicep.

"Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm. I prefer to keep my leverage. I can't trust you" He locked his eyes on yours and squeezed his fingers on your skin.

You let out a dry scoff. They should've let him die in that prison. Behind your back, Sam was about to step in. Zemo had shifted his demeanor to a cold look. "You let them do it. Stay out of it".

"And who are you to say shit about what I should or should not do?" Raising your voice, he didn't flinch.

The man pointed a finger at you as a warning, still holding his damn tea cup. Only a slight second later, Bucky shattered the glass against the wall and pulled him by his collar.

"You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?" The soldier asked him. He tightened his metal wrist and you could see his shoulder grow wide.

Sam stood next to him, resting a hand on his forearm. "Take it easy. Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing".

Bucky still had him in his grip. Zemo didn't hold any expression, otherwise. It was infuriating. "You want some cherry blossom tea?"

You watched as the taller man twisted his collar. "You fucking touch her again, I'll break your neck". He shoved the baron backward and left the living room.

You were surprised, to say the least. Bucky was annoyed you were on this mission with them. He thought you were actually missing a few points and messing with their plan.

But much to his dismay, Sam agreed to have you on board and didn't complain about your work. Said his partner was just being grumpy.

The former Winter Soldier was leaning against the countertop, his hands gripping tightly against the edge. You offered a glass of water, which he denied.

The Falcon was somewhere else making a call, which left you alone with an irritated soldier and a trash bag of an ex-prisoner.

"Don't let him get through your head" You whispered, standing close to Bucky. He didn't look back at you. "It's what he likes to do. Ever since the last time you engaged".

He gulped harshly, it was back when he was being accused of planning a bombing in Vienna. And then, when he was held hostage in Germany, where Zemo broke him and brought Winter Soldier back.

"I don't like him either. But it's easier if we just ignore" You tried to humor him, but he still wasn't in the mood for interaction.

"Would that work if I ignored you as well?" Bucky lifted his eyes to meet yours. He had a stupid faux grin on his face.

As soon as he didn't get a response, he walked past you and made his way back to follow Sam, leaving you alone with Zemo.

You're all gathered around as The Falcon goes through the plan again. Refusing to tag along with Zemo, you had to agree and make Bucky company.

They tracked Karli Morgenthau to a memorial service. But John Walker and his partner figured out the exact same plan. All you wanted to do was get all the serum back.

That is, if you didn't run into the shittiest Captain America while you and Bucky walked up the alley. You could literally hear him tightening his fists, his metal arm already functioning.

"Ah! How’d you find us now?" The soldier carried an unamused tone in his voice. You watched as John and his partner got closer to you both.

"You think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?" He wasn't wrong, but you knew Bucky was past that now.

The Captain motioned his head towards you, measuring you from head to toe. "New Avenger?"

You snorted out loud and cracked a laugh. Your stomach was starting to cramp and the soldier next to you watched as John held a confused look.

"She's just a partner" He shrugged. "Sam asked for her help".

"Yeah, but not just a partner. So you better not step foot on our plans" Bucky knows how much of a menace you are.

He can't disagree with the fact that you can actually start a fight with the wrong people and not fear them.

John snorted and you narrowed your eyes at him. "Yeah, right. You wanna meet Karli, there will be civilians there. There's a high risk of casualties".

"No one's asking for your opinion, Cap. Sam is gonna talk to her and reason her" You tried to face him, but his demeanor didn't go down on you.

"She blew up a fucking building with people in it. If he's in there alone with a Super Soldier, he's getting himself killed".

Bucky rolled his eyes. "He's dealt with worse".

You were waiting inside the building while Sam tried to convince Karli. John couldn't stop pacing back and forth, even Zemo seemed annoyed already.

He started complaining about how dangerous it was, but the soldier next to you made sure it hadn't even been ten minutes yet.

Already done with his bullshit, you shifted on your foot. Bucky looked at you from the corner of his eyes. You weren't supposed to be there in the first place. He knows you're highly qualified and if shit went down you'd protect yourself.

And even though he's still pissed you're there, he can't wrap his head around the fact that this could be really dangerous for you.

John almost towered over Bucky, he was deadpanning at the Captain. "This is all really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins".

"Barnes, your partner needs backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?" He tried getting into his head, but the man next to you did nothing but chuckle.

"You really don't know Sam, do you?" You chimed in and watched as John narrowed his eyes at you. "You come in here parading this new shield which, by the way, doesn't fucking belong to you and you want to dictate shit?"

By this point, he really wishes he could hit a woman. Bucky notices how John moves his body and tries to face you, but he doesn't let him.

"You better keep your distance" He warned the Captain, who took a few steps back and raised his hands in surrender.

John didn't wait five more minutes and decided to intervene in their conversation. Karli was fast enough and knocked them down before running away. You couldn't find her in the maze, but Zemo made sure to destroy the serums she had. Or he thought so.

Back in the loft, the German man was lying on the couch with a soft fabric covering his eyes. He was talking about how Super Soldiers weren't allowed to exist.

In gets Bucky as he sighs before taking his jacket off. You couldn't take your eyes off his firm body, his strong arms, and perfectly shaped abs.

You were sitting opposite to him as he was on his back, just staring at his entire body. He poured a glass of whiskey before speaking up about his suspicions about John.

"Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy" He says as he rests his lips on the rim of the glass.

"Good thing you recognize that" You let out a laugh, and he snaps his eyes at you.

Bucky rolls his eyes and speaks through the glass. "You should have a look in the mirror".

You're taken aback by his response and open your mouth, ready for retaliation, but he speaks up again. "Shouldn't have given him the shield".

Sam stood next to him and pointed a finger, but you defended him. "He didn't give it".

You're sitting on the couch with your arms crossed against your chest. The former Winter Soldier walks toward you before crouching in front of you.

"Steve definitely didn't. And you're past the point of giving an opinion here. I said this mission wasn't for you".

He was too annoyed today, that's for sure. But that didn't give him the right to be a brat with you all the time. And you should ignore him, but the bickering gets him all the time.

You lift your torso and fill the gap between your faces. His brows are furrowed. "You don't get to say what I should or should not do".

The staring lingers for a while until the new captain barges into the loft asking for you all to turn Zemo over.

"Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth. Now, I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today" Sam walks over to him.

John tries to tease your friend before the Wakandans enter the loft. They peacefully ask to turn Zemo as well, but a fight bursts in the room.

You run towards the corner of the room behind a pillar, while the wakandan knocks the captain and his friend down. The other three men are standing there, watching him get beat up with amused looks on their faces.

"Looking strong, John" Bucky teases and you snort loudly. He snaps his head your way and grins.

The soldier tries reasoning with Ayo, but she pulls herself away from him and continues to fight against John and his partner. Both him and Sam are too busy to notice that Zemo is trying to get away.

You run after him and hold the door knobs before he can lock himself. "Where the hell you think you're going?"

"Let go, or I'll shoot you" He warns, but you paid no mind. Only then, he gripped his gun quickly before shoving you backward, locking himself.

You looked over your shoulders and watched as Bucky was kneeling on the floor, grabbing his metal arm.

"Shit" You mutter and rush to him. "Everything okay?"

He carried a different look for a slight second, almost vulnerable. He reattached his arm back. Bucky looked at you and nodded. You grabbed his limb and carefully inspected it.

"Did you know they could do that?" He was still glancing down at you. His blue eyes were soft and light. He shook his head and clanked his arm.

Later on, Zemo was still nowhere near to be found, while Sam and Bucky were pissed they missed him.

"How could you not hold him back?" Your friend was messaging a few people he knew might know about him.

"I tried. He pointed a fucking gun to my head" You snapped.

The other man sat next to you on the stool by the countertop. He let out a sharp inhale. "Was it even loaded? He could've just tricked you".

"How the fuck would I know?" Your face was millimeters away from his once again. Your breath was fanning his face and you watched as he tightened his jaw.

"Know why I hate this fucking plan? Because you had one job today and you couldn't even do it" You closed your fists and clicked your jaw at his words.

"As much as I know Sam would bow down to you and say you're a great partner. I beg to differ" He got from his seat and walked with his heavy boots against the floor toward the couch.

Your voice cut through the air with bitterness and you immediately regretted it. "Sometimes you're no different from the Winter Soldier".

He stopped his tracks and spun around. Quickly, Bucky captured your face with his metal hand and squeezed your cheeks, making you pout.

"What the fuck did you just say?" His forehead was brushing yours and you could see rage in his eyes.

"Let go of her. She's just disappointed" Sam gave you a cold look before handling his partner. He grabbed Bucky by the shoulder before the man shoved your face.

You were sitting alone in the loft during the night, trying to book a flight home. Obviously, your plan to help with the mission became a disaster, nonetheless, from the beginning you knew Bucky didn't agree on this.

He thought you couldn't keep up with the plan and he was right. You were making things worse at this point. You wanted to help them, you tracked the Super Soldiers and you helped with Zemo, but that was just it.

Now you're debating whether you should just go without warning or not. Sam is going to be pissed at the end of it. He knows you're better than that, and after what you told Bucky there's no way you can face him again.

Your friend watched you from the corner of the hallway. He knows you're hurting from what happened, you wouldn't snap like that if his partner didn't push you. Sam talked to him, but he was too angry to actually forgive you.

He didn't blame him either.

"Hey, you going to sleep or what?" Sam asked as soon as he dropped his weight on the couch next to you. He peeked through your screen and saw it. "Woah, you're not leaving right? This isn't over. I still need you. We need to find Zemo".

"You can do that without me. You did it before. Besides, he's out there because of me. And Bucky is tired of my face".

He closed your laptop, and you glanced at him. "I can do it, but I don't want to. S'why I reached out to you. And we're gonna find him, he needs us too".

"And Bucky... I think it's just his sexual frustration talking" He laughed as you gasped at his words.

"Sam, what the fuck?"

"Dude doesn't even go on dates, he's probably nervous having a woman around. He's always been grumpy, I think it's in his nature. He'll come around at some point" He grinned at you.

"That's not my problem. He keeps pushing me, I'll fight back" You didn't need to look at him to see he was definitely enjoying the playfulness.

"You guys should just have sex. This is so annoying" Sam grabbed his phone as you choked on your own spit.

"For the love of God, drop this conversation before I snap at you too".

He handed the phone to you, saying Karli was threatening his sister and his nephews. She wants to find him, alone.

He has other plans, of course. But you can't even think about accepting the idea before Bucky gets to talk.

"He doesn't need to know. I'll go with him, you meet us there".

You watched as he and Bucky fought the Super Soldiers along with John and his partner. They were beating each other up relentlessly.

One of them pulled a pocket knife and tried stabbing Bucky and you gasped. He shielded himself, dropping the object close to their face.

He had a snapped cut on his nose, and his jaw was split up. His knuckles were bloody red. Sam was in better shape than his friend, though.

You were shocked when you saw John's partner sitting unconscious on the floor. The captain rushed to him, too desperate to make any sense.

You pulled Bucky and Sam away and ran out of the building. "We gotta get the hell out of here now. He's gonna kill the kid" Your hands were shaking, and you almost tripped on your foot.

"Hey, woah. What are you doing here?" Bucky stopped in his tracks, looking back.

"Let's argue later, dipshit" Sam shouted at the soldier as you kept running.

In the loft, you asked Bucky to sit on the stool as you worked on his injuries. Starting on his nose, he hissed at the contact with the wet cloth.

"Keep steady, crybaby" You whispered and he looked up at you.

You cleaned the dried blood from his face and managed to apply some saline solution. The entire time, he kept his gaze on you. He noticed how focused you were on his injuries and how gently you managed it.

He held his hands up as you cleaned up his knuckles. They were red from all the punching, and it surprised you how he was still human besides the serum.

You squeeze his hands lightly, too embarrassed to look back at him before apologizing. "I'm really sorry about yesterday. It was a really shitty thing to say, and you don't deserve it. I was an asshole".

Bucky trailed his eyes to scan your face. He had a peaceful look. "I shouldn't have pushed you either. I was just annoyed Sam brought someone up to this mess".

"I accepted it. There's no right or wrong, I wanted to help". You were both still brushing your fingertips against each other.

"You're not bad after all" He mused and you chuckled. "I just- I don't think I can keep losing people".

You saw his raw personality right in front of you. That man who kept his serious and defensive demeanor was showing his true self. It was hard to miss it.

Your hand grasped his jawline, carefully rubbing his skin. He almost faltered. "That won't happen. I got two Avengers to protect me".

He snorted, showing his teeth when he laughed. "Should've seen that coming".

"And more than anyone else, you deserve that happiness. You just need to stop lying about your nightmares".

"How do you-" He was about to ask and you tilt your head.

"Sam and I talk. I know it's hard to erase the past. But you're James again, you're you" Your other hand is still holding him tightly.

Bucky refuses to look at you for a moment. And when he does, his eyes are glassy. "It means I remember. It means a part of me is still there. Which means a part of the Winter Soldier’s still in me".

You smack your lips. "You need to stop thinking you're making amends. You need to give them closure, be of service for them. Stop thinking like you still owe them just an apology".

He drops his head and bites his lip. You hold his chin up and force him to look at you. "You're not that guy anymore".

You were about to get closer for the hundredth time. Maybe close the gap between you and pull him in for a kiss. Not because you feel bad for him, for his past. But because you feel warmth when you're close to him.

You feel like he could hold the world above your head and fight for you.

That was when his phone started ringing. John killed that kid out of revenge.

You finally meet Sam's sister, Sarah, after he invites you and Bucky home to help him fix his boat. A lot of their neighbors are also helping. There's a gathering with food and drinks by the lake, and every kid is excited to see the soldier. They're all lining up to hang up on his metal arm.

You're watching in the distance as he and Sarah chat about something, while two kids hang themselves on his limb. He seems lighter, happy even.

He has a different look on his face. Especially after Sam finally decided to become who he was supposed to be.

Bucky walks toward you holding two cans of beer in his hand. "You want one?"

He holds one out for you, and you accept it.

"The kids love you, you know?" You speak after sipping on your drink.

"What can I say? I'm pretty charming" He leans against the wall next to you, watching as the sun sets. There's a hue of orange in the sky.

"They only like you because of your arm. Don't get too cocky" You shove him by the arm playfully and he holds your hand for leverage.

Bucky pulls you closer to his body, his chest is heaving against yours. He's taller, so he has to look down at you.

"So you don't think I'm charming?" His words are too soft, but his grip on your waist is almost tight.

"I didn't say that" You smirk and he uses his other hand to rub the pad of his thumb on your lower lip.

The moment you felt his skin against yours, it felt like everything slowed down. Even though he was desperate to finally give you the kiss he'd been wishing for, it was obvious he was too nervous.

Sam's words lingered in your head. He was definitely in need of dates and he refused to accept it. Whatever changed his mind made you realize he had a soft spot for you.

That's what made you take the first step. You finally closed the distance and crashed your lips against his. It tasted like beer. The tiniest movement of your tongue had him groaning in the back of his throat and it almost made you smile.

He slid his tongue against yours and tilted his head for better access. He wished he wasn't holding a beer right now because all he wanted to do was cradle your face and pull you in for a deeper kiss.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and Bucky faltered as you grasped his lip between your teeth. Both tongues were fighting for dominance and you shivered.

The fresh taste of beer in your mouth made his heart flutter inside his chest. His heart was racing and pounding against his ribcage and he felt like the air got knocked out of his lungs.

You both had to pull out for air, his hand not leaving your body for a second. Resting your forehead against his, you watched as he kept his eyes closed.

"I'm glad you're happier now. I can see it right through you"

"Someone gave me a nudge. And Sam is a great friend, much to my disappointment" He joked, giving your lips a chaste peck.

"He said some pretty nasty things about you the other day" You laughed as he displayed a surprised look on his face.

"Oh, he's a dead man".

"Hmm, he might be right" You sipped on your beer, watching as Bucky placed a hand on his hip.

"What was it about?" The soldier mirrored you with his beer.

Getting closer to his face, you spoke against his lips. Voice low and teasing "You'll have to find out".

You gasped as he pulled you harder against his body and kissed you again. This time, it had a different impact, he was rough and needy.

A growth beneath you brushed against your body, and you chuckled between the kiss. Bucky had to pull away from you. He lowered his head and shook it.

"I might know what he meant" He barely had time to laugh as you pulled him in for another kiss.

You didn't even have time to tell Sam goodbye. Next thing you know, you were both in his hotel room, filling the air with a lot of passion and moaning.

You woke up the next day with a weight on you. His metal arm was spread above your body.

Jesus, they needed to get blackout curtains in the bedrooms. You slightly opened one of your eyes and peeked through your lashes as you saw Bucky peacefully sleeping close to you.

A smile escaped from your lips at the thought of the previous night.

Happiness crossed your mind when you cradled his face and traced his jawline. He was definitely happy. And hopefully, soon, the nightmares would go away.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

422 notes · View notes

rianavi · 5 months

Text

the cold

spencer reid x f!reader

content; tooth rotting fluff, oblivious spencer, awkward spencer, best friends but crushing, mutual pining

summary; after a case in alaska the snow is too thick to get a plane ride back so you and the team spend another night in a small motel. the only thing is, spencer doesn’t know if he can take another night of sleeping on the floor in your shared room. and you cant stand seeing him in pain.

based off 05x21

hotch enters the motel with a heavy sigh and a shake of his head. “they said it’s to heavy, we’ll have to stay another night.”

the team sighs and jj and emily disperse, going back to their room, followed by rossi.

spencer stays standing behind the chair you sit in. hands tucked inside his pockets and tongue poking his inner cheek.

derek takes penelope by the hand and leads the way to their room while hotch stays behind to call strauss.

you stand - finally - and begin the tread to the bed thats been holding you for the past three days.

you don’t expect spencer to catch up to you considering youre a fast walker and he’s been dealing with back pain this whole case.

it had given you a feeling of guilt, you and spencer were sharing a room with a single bed and you had lost the fight to sleep on the hardwood floor.

all you wanted was to invite him into the bed with you, under the comforter and cuddled into you as you cling onto each other for warmth.

but you were scared and knew he would never agree to it. so you kept your mouth shut and turned away from his shivering body on the floor.

tonight would be different though.

you couldn’t stand seeing him in agonizing pain any longer, tonight you would finally build up the courage and invite him into bed with you.

when you got to your destination you grabbed a pair of pajamas and made your way to the bathroom.

just as you closed the bathroom door you heard spencer enter the room and sigh before seeing the shadow of his feet walk past the bathroom.

you turn on the sink to wash your face and hands, then changing into a pair of pajama pants and an undershirt.

when you exit the bathroom you make sure to leave the light on as to spencers fear of the dark.

you find him changed into his sleep clothes and making his bed on the floor.

before the chance was taken away you speak softly, “spencer,”

he looks up at you with his big eyes and carved features that make you weak in the knees.

“i’m not letting you sleep on the floor again, it’s way too uncomfortable and i can tell that it’s bothering your back.”

his eyebrows tug together, “well there is no way im letting you sleep here instead.”

the thought of him taking the pain just so you wouldn’t have to has your heart clenching and stomach turning.

“that’s not what i’m saying. there is more than enough room for both of us on the bed.”

you can see the way his cheeks redden and his posture tenses.

at first you think he’s gonna turn you down but then he speaks.

“y-yeah sure.”

youre taken aback to say the least but you smile brightly and make your way over to the bed.

you pull back the covers and fluff the pillows to your liking before crawling under the blanket and waiting for spencer to join you.

he does so slowly and awkwardly, he lays stiff and flat on his back staring up at the ceiling.

you laugh softly at how scared he looks before turning on your side to face him.

“better?”

he nods softly, and pulls the comforter up to his neck while shivering.

“you know.. if we huddle close together the body heat from us will warm each other up.”

“usually im the one speaking facts.”

you laugh at that, airy and light. he smiles at the sound and overcomes his fears by grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers.

you gasp lightly at the coldness of his hand before smiling at him and squeezing his palm.

the air is less tense now and you both can breathe normally now.

“spencer?”

he looks at you for the first time this night and hums in acknowledgment.

“can you hold me?”

he releases a breath before pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around your waist tightly -like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life-

you smile into his neck and wrap your arms around his neck while your hands land in his hair.

“youre very warm,” he speaks softly

you laugh again, tickling his neck. the warmth of his breath hitting your forehead. he places a soft kiss there and you smile into his neck, tightening your grip on him while sleep overcomes you both.

#criminal minds #fanfic #smut #spencer reid #november #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #i wanna die hes so cute #i would kill to hug him #imagine how soft his hair is #ani speaks

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asteriastarr · 9 months

Note

hello fellow gorgon lover!!! i was wondering if you could do a little imagine/short or headcanon about deuce and the reader (who has nature powers a bit like Venus) messing around a bit during Komos class before it starts and heath is teasing them for being cute while clawdeen, draculaura and Frankie playfully argue over who loves who more.

A/N: Hi! Thanks so much for the request! Sorry it took so long! (and that its so bad) Hope you enjoy it! (Btw, this one doesn't have a gif because I generally use the gifs when I myself can't picture the scenario since i struggle with making images in my mind, or when I want to come up with idea's and I want to show where I got the idea from) Anyway happy reading!

POV: Deuce and Y/n messing around in class before it starts

The Monster Hisstory classroom spoke loudly, patiently awaiting their teacher’s arrival. Y/n L/n and Deuce Gorgon, being best friends, had decided to sit together for this class, bringing snacks to share… or rather, throw at each other.

“Okay that is cheating, you can’t just use vines to guide the food to your mouth.” Deuce laughed when Y/n had summoned a vine to place one of the snacks into her mouth.

“You used your snakes, it’s perfectly fair.” She argued, a smile on her face.

“It is not fair; my snakes are way shorter than those vines of yours Y/n.” Deuce defended.

“Mmm, nope I think it’s very much fair I can use my vines.” Y/n said, placing a snack in her mouth then throwing one at Deuce, of which he dropped.

“Well, that was definitely not fair, I was distracted.” Deuce joked, crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah? By what?” She interrogated, raising an eyebrow and mimicking his action of crossing his arms.

“By your pretty face, it’s very distracting.” He smirked leaning closer.

Y/n felt her face heating up as she perked a brow.

“Oh? Well, I must say, your handsome face is also rather distracting, good sir.” She retorted, also leaning closer.

Just then Heath walked by and placed himself in his spot on the table next to the duo’s.

“Aw, you’re a cute couple.” Heath commented, looking at the two of whom both blushed and immediately moved away from each other.

“We’re not a couple.” Y/n said now suddenly refusing to look in the general direction of Deuce.

“Oh. You sure? You seem like you’d be a very cute couple.” Heath spoke.

“We’re sure.” The two said in unison.

Heath refused to take this answer however and decided to tease the two about being a ‘cute couple’ resulting in Y/n and Deuce both covering their ears to tune him out. “No, no, no Draculaura you have it all wrong look at her face when she looks at him, she’s obviously more in love with him!” Y/n heard Clawdeen exclaiming.

“Uh, hello, blood expert here, his cheeks got two shades redder than Y/n’s which evidentially shows that he loves her more!” Draculaura argued.

“Guys, what if- they love each other equally?” Frankie suggested causing Draculaura and Clawdeen to deadpan them.

“Frankie, I love you but that is literally the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Clawdeen stated.

“Yes, please take this seriously.” Draculaura said before turning back to Clawdeen “Where were we? Oh right, Two whole shades redder Clawdeen! Two!”

Y/n glanced at Heath (of whom was still teasing them) and the trio before coming to a decision.

“Wanna skip this class?” She asked grabbing her bag. “Yep.” Deuce said grabbing his own bag and standing up.

PT 2 here

#deuce gorgon #deuce gorgon g3 #deuce gorgon x reader #live action deuce gorgon #live action deuce gorgon x reader #g3 monster high #gorgon #live action monster high #monster high g3 #case walker #case walker x reader #request #requested

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months

Text

Difficult III

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Baby!Reader

Summary: A domestic day at home when you were a baby

Ingrid thinks Mapi hasn't looked prettier than when you're on her hip.

It's where she can most often find you.

Mapi's enamoured with you, Ingrid knows this. She hovers around you like she's a little kid around a new puppy.

It's pretty adorable and Ingrid can't help but smile often when Mapi sits with you on the floor and helps you play with your cars.

"She's not going to fall, Mapi," Ingrid says with a hint of humour as you toddle around the room pushing your little walker.

"She might."

"She won't."

"But she might."

"Mapi," Ingrid says fondly," She can walk fine. She's not going to fall."

You ram your walker into the wall, giggling loudly at the sound it makes. You do it a second time and then a third. You let go of it and clap, jumping around before abandoning it in favour of toddling over to your playmat and slumping down on top of it.

A Norwegian soap opera plays on the tv, the opening credits that you clearly know very well by the way you're bopping your head along and garbling out sounds that Mapi's half sure aren't actually words but she doesn't quite understand Norwegian just yet so she can't be truly certain.

Ingrid clicks her tongue at you and says a long string of words that Mapi doesn't understand again.

You turn your head to look at her, gummy smile wide and happy.

Ingrid pats the space between them and you pull yourself over, arms raised up so you can be lifted.

You wiggle between the pair of them, sucking happily at the sippy cup Ingrid gives you. You've just properly started to wean off bottles and Mapi's, yet again, in complete awe at the way Ingrid knows exactly what to do with you.

It's hard to believe that your Ingrid's first baby, though, probably also her last.

You're more than enough for both of them.

You push away Ingrid's hand and take the sippy cup in your own.

Immediately, Mapi feels nervous.

"She's not going to drown herself," Ingrid says with a laugh," She's trying to be more independent."

"She's a baby," Mapi replies," She shouldn't need to be independent."

"She's a baby," Ingrid echoes," She's growing up. She won't be with us together."

"No," Mapi says firmly, pulling you onto her lap and curling her body around your little one," She's going to stay with us forever and ever."

Ingrid laughs. You look to be quite happy sitting on Mapi's lap, wiggling your little toes as you stare blankly at the tv ahead of you.

"You'll get sick of her when she's older."

"Of my bebita? No. Never happening." She presses a kiss to your cheek that you begrudgingly accept before tugging at her fingers with your strong baby grip.

You screech when her grip on you tightens and you try to push her off.

"Mapi," Ingrid says warningly, plucking you from her grip to place back on your playmat," You can't hold her like that. She doesn't like it."

Mapi pouts but you're happy again on your playmat, banging a toy car on the floor and throwing it across the room. You scooch around on your bum a bit, just out of reach of her extended arms.

You end up sitting with Bagheera, who lets you rhythmically pat her back with little more than a judgemental look in her eyes.

Ingrid's happy to let you play by yourself, nudging Mapi with her feet to get her to stop staring at you.

"She's not going anywhere. It's just Bagheera."

"She might scratch her."

Mapi's never had an issue with Bagheera scratching people before but with you sitting by yourself, she can't help but imagine everything going wrong and you getting hurt.

"Then she'll know not do it again," Ingrid replies," You can't protect her from everything."

You grow bored of Bagheera quickly and bum shuffle back over to the sofa. You peek your head over the arm where Mamí is sitting. You make eye contact with Mumma, who smiles at you.

"We should put her in bubblewrap," Mapi says," And I think we should get her a helmet. Just in case."

She's shocked when you pull yourself up, popping your head over the arm of the sofa as you propel yourself forward. You tumble head first into her lap but right yourself and climb over her to get to Ingrid, who happily takes you into her arms.

You sag against her, wining.

She presses the sippy cup against your mouth and you happily drink.

A camera shutter sounds and Ingrid looks up to see Mapi holding up her phone.

You turn too, more so because Mumma's not looking at you than you actually caring about what Mamí's doing.

"I'm going to make that my lock screen," Mapi says as you grunt and wiggle your way into standing up on Ingrid's thighs.

It's nice being tall like Mumma sometimes but you find yourself getting bored of it like you got bored of your walker and of Bagheera.

The outro of the soap opera starts playing and your hurriedly scramble onto the floor to bounce to the rhythm.

It's not quite dancing (you don't have the fine motor control to do that just yet) but your bouncing is quite good and Mapi immediately connects her phone to the speakers.

"Dance party, bebita!"

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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gutsby · 4 months

Text

Joel Miller

Waiting Game (dbf!Joel)

Joel has mastered the art of self-control in all areas except one: not fucking his friend’s daughter. A cross-country road trip home from college takes a hard turn when he’s forced to share a motel room with you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

One shots for the Waiting Game ‘verse

Homemade: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.

Diehard: Joel tries Viagra for the very first time.

Ruined!: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.

Cabin Fever (Dark!Joel x Dark!Reader) [DEAD DOVE]

Joel saves your life, but help comes at a price.

Confines: Joel locks you up in a subterranean bunker.

Finders Keepers (bfd!Joel)

Something about the sun in Cabo San Lucas and your best friend’s father’s sweaty body makes you a horny mess. When you find an old shirt of his lying around, you can’t resist. When Mr. Miller finds you humping a pillow and moaning his name, neither can he.

Cry, Baby

Joel fucks you to the point of tears. That’s all.

Just Peachy [anal]

Joel’s got a jealous streak and a bold idea.

Bucky Barnes

Wedded Bliss (Mob!Bucky)

The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Daryl Dixon

Dead Ringer

Weeks of separation and sexual frustration come to a head when Daryl pays you a visit in the middle of the night. Whether it's the product of your own sex-deprived subconscious or reality, you can't be sure—and couldn't care less. Daryl wants to fulfill the fantasy any way he can.

Easy Street

You steal a cop car and almost run Daryl over en route to the Sanctuary. You can’t decide if you want to fight him, fuck him, or bring him back to Negan. Lucky for you, Daryl is game for all three.

Nighthawk

You decide to bring Spencer to the neighborhood Halloween bash to take your mind off your breakup with Daryl. Your ex isn't so easily convinced of your intentions and decides there's no better place than his motorcycle to show you just how much he misses you.

Cherry Pie

You know virtually nothing about sex, and Daryl’s done it all. Together, you take on an impromptu anatomy lesson, and you learn that Daryl has a lot more to teach you than what’s covered in the textbooks.

Walker Bait

An unforeseen foray into a sex shop leaves you and Daryl trapped between a plastic cock and a hard place as a herd of walkers closes in. Angry sex ensues.

Grow a Uterus and We’ll Talk

Daryl has a bad case of baby fever, to put it lightly. You’re practically terrified of children. Rick lends you his kid for the night, and together, you come to learn that parenthood might not be the worst thing in the world. Even easier than baking muffins, one might say.

Honey Trap

You’ve been tasked with two simple jobs: infiltrate Alexandria’s community and bring intel back to your boss by any means necessary. When your entry point into the group takes the form of a familiar blue-eyed archer, you expect this to be your easiest gig yet—that is, until your prey decides to hunt you back.

Pregnant Pause

Babymaking is a bit trickier than anticipated, and months have passed with no sign of pregnancy. When your period finally doesn’t show up on time, you and Daryl act fast and head straight for the pharmacy—and get a little caught up along the way.

Mr. Dixon

Your efforts to seduce the DILF next door have all failed spectacularly, so you decide a wet hot car wash in front of his house is in order. Mr. Dixon is less than impressed with your antics and plans to teach you a lesson in good manners and ‘neighborliness.’

I’m a Good Girl, Officer!

Apparently flashing your tits to truckers on the freeway is frowned upon in small towns like yours. When three familiar King County cops take charge of the case, you learn they punish bad girls a little differently.

Playing Dangerous

Working undercover in a seedy part of town, homicide detective Daryl sees you in your skimpy club attire and mistakes you for a hooker. A wrongful arrest makes for a funny way to foreplay, but you’re still game.

Fake It Til You Make It (Or Drown)

Daryl finds out you faked an orgasm. Instead of getting mad, he decides to get even.

Best Served Cold

Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.

Coming Soon:

Bite the Bullet

Back at the prison, new recruits have been showering you with gifts. One of these presents doesn’t sit quite right with Daryl, and he decides it’s time to let the men know just how he feels—and who you belong to.

Atlantic City

A very drunk Daryl meets a stripper in Jersey and wastes no time putting a ring on her finger. With the late, great Elvis Presley presiding, the two get hitched in a slipshod ceremony a couple weeks before the world descends into chaos. This marriage may be short-lived, but damn if the honeymoon won’t be one to remember.

Requests are open!

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sleepyangelkami · 1 month

Text

HUSH c.grimes

☆ WORD COUNT - 4.1K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - in the midst of running from a herd, you and carl find yourselves a room just for the two of you, perfect for all the private manners he'd been planning. only problem, the rest of the group were just downstairs.

☆ WARNINGS - smut, blood + gore (beginning), fingering, p!v, creampie, unprotected sex, porn with plot, praise kink, dom!carl, sub!reader, kinda public sex?, mention of masterbation, petnames, dirty talk, thumb sucking?, overstimulation, kinda corruption kink, tit sucking, mocking, aged up characters, carl mentioned to be bigger than reader, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

right about now, you were supposed to be tucked away in your bed. well, tucked not so much. you'd imagine that right about now, you'd have your legs spread while whimpering and whining against your boyfriend. in fact, he'd been the one to tell you himself that this was how you'd be spending your evening, he promised.

instead, you were running from infected, surprise, surprise.

it seemed like it was the only thing you were doing lately, running from the infected.

carl had been on a 'mission' for over a week now. when he'd left, you'd gave him big doey eyes along with a pouty lip which he kissed away and stated that as soon as he got home, he'd give you everything you'd be missing out on. when he got home, you were overjoyed.

that was, albeit, until you were both tasked with something else.

nobody in alexandria would give you a break if their lives depended on it.

you'd been waiting so patiently for your boyfriend, had not touched yourself while he was gone due to his explicit rules. you'd been so excited when he'd placed your back against the bed, kissing you roughly.

and rick thought this was the perfect moment to come get you both from the room and inform you that they were down three people for an urgent supply run. you and carl's assistance would be needed asap. as soon as the words came out of his mouth, carl noticed the way your features slumped and he was positive that throughout the entire run, even when the rain had pattered against your heads and you found yourself fighting against infected, that little pout never left.

"we have to leave!" aaron shouted above and beyond, it was hard to make out the muffled voices of everyone while the rain was so heavy and the sound of groans and gurgles could be heard. "we need to get out of here!"

"there's a buildin' over there!" that was daryl, you assumed.

you couldn't exactly make out much. what you could make out, was the way you gripped the knife in your hand, brows knit together in worry and despite the way you thrashed against the dead, carl made sure his back stayed planted against yours, every now and again turning back to make sure you were okay and that you could handle yourself. truth be told, you didn't know how much longer you could fight.

you always mentioned to carl that you weren't a fighter, always having that adored pout when you said it. you weren't 'brave and strong' like he was. you were nothing like him.

carl always had to remind you, that was one of the reason's why he loved you so much.

in a world full of chaos, you were the calm.

perhaps that was why you'd barely killed any walkers, if any. carl was doing everything in his power to keep you shielded while he did the fighting. he had always been somewhat of a protector towards you.

"go!" you didn't know who was yelling now, all you knew was that carl had grabbed you by the hand, hoisting you forward. the group ran, some turning to slash at the dead beings, blood squirting onto their clothes as they fell slump against the ground. "keep running!"

the building that they'd been talking about soon came into view.

it was large and white, with various windows, some broken, some not. you could vaguely make out the linen curtains from behind the glass, covering the contents that lay inside.

daryl pushed the door open, slamming his entire body against it before it swung open. everyone ran inside, gathering in the first hall while daryl and rick put their body weight on the door, slamming the two large doors shut and making sure no dead got inside. glenn grabbed a large piece of wood, shoving it between the two handles and assuring that it wouldn't open.

everyone panted as the two men let go of the door, taking a glance around the building they'd stumbled into. "what is this place?" rick was out of breath, trying to regain it while his hands sat on his knees.

glenn pursed his lips. "I think it's a hotel."

rick, daryl, carol and glenn all searched the perimeter of the building. aaron and gabriel went from room to room, swinging the doors open and making sure they didn't find any dead inside. once assured that they were clear, rosita and tara began assigning the rooms. tara was behind the reception counter, acting out as if she were the receptionist, rosita tried to stifle her laugh.

maggie turned with her eyebrows slightly pinched. "such kids." she'd mumbled to you and carl to which you giggled while carl rolled his eyes with a smile.

soon enough, everyone had regrouped in what you assumed used to be the lounge area. there was a large fireplace that somehow aaron got going. everyone sat around on the couches, swapping war stories and whatnot. rick wasn't too happy about being here in the first place, presumedly because one of the people they were down was michonne due to an awful turnover she'd had last night. she was sick and rick was just dying to make it back to her.

he was the first to excuse himself to bed.

on one of the couches, you and carl lay.

your head was spinning.

you'd tried your upmost hardest to keep yourself contained and you did, because the last thing you needed was someone noticing the way you seemed sort of in a daze. carl had been gone on a run prior, he'd left you for over a week so naturally, he was more touchy than ever.

and don't get me wrong, carl was usually touchy with you. he was the type of guy that always had an arm around your shoulder or waist or merely holding your hand close. but during times like these, when he'd just gotten back from the various runs and trips, he was always especially touchy, more so than ever.

you were clad in his blue flannel over your own pretty pink spaghetti strap. it draped over you, serving as an extra layer of warmth. carl was bigger than you so naturally the flannel came over your hands, practically swallowing you whole.

your mind drifted to going home, back to alexandria. suddenly, your mind drifted to what carl had planned for you both when you got back, what he'd promised.

at the mere thought, you found yourself growing hot.

you let out a breath before shfiting back towards carl, bringing him impossibly closer.

carl was always in tune with your feelings. he knew you like the back of his hand, whether you were sad, angry, happy, it didn't matter. he could tell how you were feeling just by the little glint in your eye. his head turned down to you, smiling softly at your features. you looked up at him with doe like eyes, your own lips formed the smallest of pouts.

you wondered if he knew how you felt now.

and by the way his smile turned into somewhat of a smirk, he must have. he turned back to the group, continuing what he was saying as his hand inched around your upper thigh.

the feeling of his hand sat so close to where you needed him was enough to have your body giving the reaction. you pulled yourself as close to him as humanly possible.

every now and again he'd include you in the conversation, asking you questions to keep you focused. but at the same time he'd ask the question, he'd give your thigh a little squeeze. to anyone watching, he would have looked like a boy simply trying to include his shy girlfriend, as if she couldn't speak up for herself. but carl and you both knew why he was touching you the way he was, why he was giving you that little soft look, enough to have your knees week.

a nod would be your response, eyes sort of hazy as you did so. the others assumed you were tired, you all were. but carl knew what those eyes meant, looking up at him like you were prepared to take him here and now.

the way your hands wrapped feebly against his arm. the way you looked at him with doey eyes. the way you sighed softly and placed your head against him.

he had to excuse you both.

"think we're gonna call it a night." came his voice that you longed to hear so desperately. your eyes glanced back up at him, a little surprise joined into the mix. "right?"

you didn't respond, a 'mhm' sufficing as you nodded your head.

"good idea." maggie responded, gently stretching her arm but she stayed seated on the couch. "you'll need your strength for the morning."

"if you guys need anything just holler." glenn added. you both had a feeling that the others would be staying up quite a bit longer that night.

carl nodded. "thanks, we will." before excusing you both. it wasn't until you were in the hallway that he spoke again. "you know what room we're in, baby?" his voice all soft as his mouth travelled down to your ear, lips gently grazing against your skin.

"room 290, i think." your own voice was soft, sort of hushed as you glanced back up at him, seeing the way he nodded before grazing your eyes back to the doors around you.

turns out, your room was placed on the highest floor. you both walked up the stairs, his hands around your waist, practically pulling you back into him. it was like he'd needed you impossibly closer. and you weren't one to judge. on the contrary, you needed him just as much, perhaps that was why he was holding you so close, he knew.

you opened the door of the room, glancing around to the fully dressed white linen bed while stripping yourself of the flannel that had lay around your shoulders. you placed it on the chair close to the little table that sat in the hotel room. you assumed it used to have one of those coffee makers on it. the table was now empty and the little holder had no sugar packets. you sighed as the cold air hit your now bare arms. it was cold but no longer could you wear the flannel, not while it was covered in mud and was so wet that it practically stuck to your skin.

however, whatever air you took in was suddenly knocked from your lungs at the soft feeling of carl's fingertips against you. you held your breath, his fingers dancing over your shoulder as he pushed the hair back, making room on your neck for his mouth.

his lips came down to dance on the delicate skin, listening to your little intake of breath as he did so.

his hands moved down, tracing themselves back to your waist, where they seemingly always lay. you could feel his lips press kisses against your skin while his fingers began to turn at the waistband of your jeans. your chest rose and fell, gentle as ever. the mere kissing on your neck was almost enough to relieve what you'd been holding in for a week.

"carl?" your voice barely a murmur. he responded with a hum, causing vibrations to shoot throughout your entire body. "what... what are you doing?" voice breathy, almost high pitched.

finally, he moved his mouth away from your neck, turning your body around gently and pushing you backwards until your back hit off the coffee table from behind you. "this is what you wanted, no?" you could feel his fingers fumbling with the little button of your jeans. "why you were giving me the fuck me eyes down there."

you felt your face grow hot. you hadn't been meaning to give him any sort of eyes. however, you'd been so wrapped up in your little... problem, you'd hardly noticed. "i wasn't." you spoke, defending yourself as your brows moved together, pinching themselves as you tried to make up an excuse.

nothing came to mind.

carl didn't mind, however, as instead of waiting for you to make up an excuse, he moved his hand further. you felt his hand slip beneath your jeans, just above your panties, cupping your clothed pussy. "that why you're soaking?" you couldn't so much as respond before feeling his lips plant themselves against your neck once more.

your eyes fluttered shut, feeling his mouth leave kisses against your neck and his hand move gently against your soaking heat. you found your own hips rutting down on the hand softly, trying to create the friction you'd missed so dearly. however, your eyes soon blinked themselves open again upon realising what you were doing. "carl." you murmured softly. "everyone's downstairs." worry coating your tone thickly.

he only hummed before retracting his head from your neck. "so you're gonna have to be really good 'n stay quiet f'me. think you can do that, yeah?"

it was a stupid idea, you were aware. anyone could have come in, i mean it wasn't like the rooms exactly came with locks. but you'd missed him for an entire week, an entire week filled with lonely nights, itching to reach your hand down beneath your pink panties and yet, you'd been unable. you'd waited long enough for him. "mhm, i can stay quiet."

carl found his lips turning upwards. "good girl." this time, however, he attached his lips to your own and not your neck.

you whimpered as his hand moved at your pink panties, a little bow sitting at the top. he didn't utter a word before his fingers danced across your clit, tracing it gently. you knew you had to be quiet, the last thing you needed was anybody hearing you moaning carl's name. but it was so hard when he was finally giving you the sweet relief you'd wanted so desperately.

"shh shh." gently shushing you as his pointer finger dragged across your folds, collecting your slick before shoving it inside your aching hole. "i know, baby, i know." trying to keep you as quiet as he could while pumping a finger in and out of you.

he used his free hand to grab the back of your head, softly placing it against his shoulder so you could moan into the cloth of his own flannel, your eyes rolling at the feeling of him adding yet another, long, thin finger.

carl knew he was making you feel good, he never doubted himself in that department. he was well aware of how you reacted just to his fingers, the way you'd stare at them while he messed with something idly or when he was cleaning his knives and you'd sit on his lap, eyes trained on his long fingers.

"doin' so good, angel." kissing the crown of your hair as he played around with your hole. "so good f'me." did he know the true affect his words had on you?

your eyes squeezed shut, unable to make a coherent sentence. you felt the band in your stomach begin to build. that hot pleasure you'd been wanting to experience all while carl was gone.

but you couldn't let yourself feel it all yet.

"carl." you whined out as quietly as you could. "need you." and he knew what that meant.

you practically scrambled against him, wanting him to stop fingering you so you could come on his dick but he wanted to take his sweet time with you. which is why he shushed you again, petting your head like a puppy. "shh, pretty girl, i'll give you what you want later, jus' relax." he'd coax you through your first orgasm before putting himself inside of you. this way, he'd be able to slip in much easier.

you let him soothe you as your eyes fluttered shut again. you tried, in all your will, to keep them open. you attempted to struggle, babbling pathetically as you found yourself reaching your brink.

the band snapped.

you could have screamed in pleasure.

your fists grabbed at his flannel, trying everything in your will to cling to him. he only shushed you further, cooing and holding your mouth to his shoulder as you emitted loud moans. it was a wonder if anyone hadn't heard you. but as of now, you couldn't find it in yourself to care, too overwhelmed with the feeling of white that coated your vision.

"good girl, good girl." he kept repeating so softly into your ear. his fingers still moved at your gushing hole, letting you ride out your high while trying to keep yourself quiet. the task proved itself to be much harder than he'd presented it.

when you'd finally rode out your high, he softened the hand against the back of your head, letting you look up at him. your mouth was open, drool coating your bottom lip while your eyes looked sort of wide and fucked out. he'd kissed you softly then, smirking at what he'd created.

he loved having you like this, turning from the sweet and innocent girl you were a couple of hours ago, helping glenn pick flowers for maggie, to how you were now, fucked out with a look of bliss in your eye. it was like you were made for him. made for him to ruin.

"you still want this?" he questioned, though some could deem it as rhetorical, seeing as he was well aware that you could never say no to such an offer, not from him. you nodded your head, still out of breath. "then say it." finding his lips quirking up.

he knew you were too blissed to say a word. he'd be surprised if you could so much as form a coherent sentence. but you needed him, desperately so. "need..." your breaths falling heavily against your raw lungs. "need you." a mere two words, you'd struggled to even get that out.

if there was anything carl liked to do more than fuck your brains out, it was tease you until it was in scrambles. "where's your manners?" but he didn't look angry. on the contrary, he had that shit eating grin displayed across his face.

you had just about enough of his antics. "please, carl." bucking your hips forward despite the fact that your panties and jeans had been somewhere discarded on the floor, leaving you bare as he stood clothed in front of you.

that changed, all too soon. he kissed you roughly while ridding himself of the flannel he wore, tearing off the grey shirt beneath it and then finding your own pretty spaghetti tank top. he grasped the pink material between his fingers, practically ripping it above your head.

his lips moved from your own to your breasts, one of his hands slowly kneading the other. you could barley keep yourself silent, head thrown back and pretty whimpers falling from your lips.

that only egged carl on more. with your nipple sat in between his lips, he glanced up at you. his tongue rolled across your nipple causing yet another whimper to leave your pretty pink lips. he couldn't help himself, not when you looked so pretty for him.

he removed his mouth from your tit, finding himself all too wrapped up in the thought of being inside of you. he grabbed your hips roughly before lifting you and shoving you back down onto the coffee table roughly. your legs were spread as you ached for him, his lips meeting yours much more rough than before.

your hands moved to his hair, gently tugging on it as his own hands moved to his belt. you watched him slip it off before grasping the buttons of his jeans. you were too wrapped up in kissing him, yet you still stole glanced downwards so you could see what he was doing.

not that he'd ever move at a pace where you didn't know what was happening.

you watched him pull his hard cock out from beneath his grey boxers, finding yourself holding your breath. every single time, without fail, you forgot just how big he was.

your eyes were slightly wide, tracing over his entire length. at this point, you'd stopped kissing, both merely looking downward to your entrance and his dick. "you ready?" you felt his fingers grab at your chin, lifting your face to meet his. you nodded slowly, eyes still all hazy and fucked out. "words, sweet girl."

"nmph, 'm ready." wanting nothing more than him inside of you. you'd waited too long for this.

he pressed a singular kiss to your lips before sliding himself inside your pretty hole.

your eyes shut closed again, squeezing together as you felt his head go inside, slowly but surely he slipped his entire length in, your cum coated walls making it easier. your mouth was parted open, a shaky breath leaving your lips. you felt him settle inside of you, opening your eyes to look at his pretty features.

he was in awe of you. you looked practically cock drunk, and he'd barely gotten inside. your hazy look was enough to set his heart ablaze. you felt him leave your gummy walls before ramming back inside.

you whimpered and whined. once he began, he couldn't stop.

his hands were practically glued to your hips, holding them against him while thrusting into you, using your hips to guide him inside. you whined as the table you sat on shoved against the back wall, hitting against it. you wondered if anyone could hear, but you couldn't bring yourself to care, all you cared about was carl fucking you silly.

his hand came up to your cheeks, thumb dancing around your lips before shoving it inside your mouth.

your eyes fluttered closed, lips taking in his thumb and sucking on it, tongue flat against it. it helped with your whines and whimpers, letting your noises be muffled with your closed mouth, enveloping his singular finger.

at the same time, carl never stopped the thrusts in and out of you. if anything, he sped up. he couldn't help himself, practically animalistic as a white creamy ring coated the base of his dick. "fuck." he practically stammered out, shoving his dick inside. "y'so pretty like this." you were pretty all the time, beautiful even. but this, this was one of carl's favourite ways to see you. you felt his free hand move his other thumb down towards your clit, gently tracing it again. it caused you to let out a harsh whine, practically shoving yourself closer onto his dick, unconsciously. you couldn't unhear the laugh that sprouted from his lips with a coo following soon after. "sensitive?" he questioned but didn't wait for an answer before drawing tight little circles around your clit.

with the mix of his dick inside of you, pumping in and out roughly, his thumb dancing across your clit and his thumb, grounding you, you were sure that the feeling began to fill up in your stomach once again.

carl felt your sopping walls clench around him. "so soon?" he almost laughed at you, but you were too blissed to even register that he was mocking you. instead, you nodded, practically drooling on his thumb. but he wasn't one to laugh for he felt the same feeling build in his own stomach.

your mouth left around his finger, leaving his thumb mush the spit he'd collected around your lips. there was something about the way you'd do whatever it is he wanted, without question that just... drove him over the edge.

"carl." you whined out, doe eyes looking up at him with scrunched brows.

"y'gonna cum?" he practically teased, watching you nod swiftly. "gonna cum on my dick, huh?" too pussy drunk to understand what he was saying, either. "c'mon, baby, cum f'me." his thumb never stopping the circles against your clit.

he felt your walls clench around him for the last time, before gushing.

his own hips stuttered, faltering as he felt you cum all over his dick. it drove him over the edge as his own cum spewed from his dick, still inside you. "fuck, fuck, fuck..." mumbling with his eyes closed, unable to feel anything else other than your cum coating his own dick.

he glanced down, seeing your sticky cum mixed with his own, drooling from your pretty hole. his hips gently rocked into your own, his dick sliding out of you, coated in both your juiced before bucking back inside of you.

with fucked out, teary eyes you looked up at him, almost confused. "c'mon, you got one more in you, huh?" slowly, you nodded your head. "yeah, 'know you do. good girl, good girl."

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

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wntrs0ldier · 4 months

Text

AN OFFER II · 04

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3,4k warnings: mafia, language, violence, mature themes, dark themes, smut, punishing, spanking, edging, toxic behavior,

Bucky brought his hand up to your face. “You know I won’t hurt you,” he said. His hand slid a little lower; it gripped your jaw, and his fingers dug almost painfully into your cheeks. “But,” he licked his lips, shrugging, “you lied to me. And you won't get away with it.”

series masterlist

The situation you got yourself into was strikingly similar to your last date with John Walker — you were sitting in a fancy restaurant, trying not to show how much you needed some man's favor. There were also a few differences; seated in front of you was not John, but Adrian Lancy, it was not about a marriage proposal and your future, but the future of your gallery, and most importantly, Bucky had no idea about any of this. Although, he knew you were going out — he would have noticed your disappearance anyway — but you told him you were having dinner with Connie. You didn't think Bucky would want to make sure that was really the case, but you preferred to be safe than sorry, and asked your friend to lie if necessary. Connie didn't even think about it; she agreed before you finished your sentence.

Earlier, you didn't see Adrian as a threat — he didn't seem like someone who would go too far to get his way. Nevertheless, you were all smiles between the meals. Why? Because facing the fact that you had a husband, rather than just imagining it, caused some unexplained change in him, and from a sensible young man you were pinning your hopes on, he became someone gripped by a obsession; his propositions for meetings sounded a little more aggressive, lost their previous lightness, and you eventually grew afraid. Not about yourself — whenever the ring on your finger entered your field of vision, you forgot about any fear. It seemed to you that no one could hurt you, not when you bore the name of Barnes.

But the gallery was different.

“I'm going to Paris soon,” Adrian began. “On business, of course, not for pleasure,” he added, as if you were to take him for a man who has nothing to do but travel.

“Mhmm.”

“I thought you could come with me,” he continued. Surprised by the processes that must have occurred in his mind, you raised your eyebrows. “You know about art,” he hurried to clarify, “and I'd love to buy some pieces for my new apartment. I will pay you for this service.”

“You know that there are people you can actually hire for this. People you won't spend that much on.” You tilted your head to the side, watching him carefully. “Because I am expensive. Very expensive,” you said, hoping to discourage him.

“I want you.”

“Adrian…” you sighed. “I can't come to Paris with you just like that.”

Not hiding his disappointment, he pressed his lips tightly together. “Well,” he shrugged casually, “if you don't go with me, you won't see any more of my money. And I'll make sure that no one will ever invest in you again. In short, I will destroy you, Y/N. So you'd better think it over and give me an answer by the end of the week.”

Refusing to let any negative expression cast a shadow on your face, you watched him. You couldn't give him the satisfaction, even if, when agreeing to this meeting, you didn't expect it to turn out this way. The change you feared earlier had just taken a full turn — much faster than you thought. “Sure.” You forced a sweet smile. “I’ll think about it.”

A waiter appeared at the table. At first you thought it was just a routine check; that he was making sure you weren't missing anything. Only after you gave him a little more conscious attention did you notice a bottle of wine in his hands. A very expensive bottle. As if Adrian wanted to let you know that he had the resources you needed, and that he was spending his fortune on something as unnecessary as wine, which was only meant to impress.

But Adrian seemed confused, too. “There must be some mistake. I didn’t order any wine.”

“I was told it is from Mr. Barnes.”You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling an unpleasant warmth spilling all over your stomach. You stared at the bottle in a stupor. So he knew — Bucky knew very well where you were, which meant he also knew who you were with.

You weren't sure how long you had been standing in front of the door to your apartment, but eventually realized that such behavior qualified as absurd — the accompanying fear, that you had been convinced you lacked only a few hours earlier, was undoubtedly irrational. Or at least that's what you had to trick yourself into thinking in order to finally grab the door handle.

You hung up your purse on a hanger and slipped the high heels off your feet. You were able to name at least five much scarier situations that had occurred in your entire life, yet you couldn't recall the last time you felt this kind of anxiety. You didn't even understand where it was coming from; after all, Bucky cared about you; he couldn't harm you.

When you turned around, ready to go deeper into the apartment, Bucky was standing at the end of the hall, right by the exit. His damp hair, loose t-shirt and sweatpants, fresh wounds on his knuckles indicated that he must have been after training with Steve. You swallowed hard at the thought that Bucky, having found out where and with whom you were actually spending time, needed to beat something, in this case, fortunately, a punching bag.

“Was it good?” Bucky asked, approaching you slowly. “The wine,” he clarified. Without taking your eyes off him, you nodded cautiously, causing him to squint. “What is it?” His mouth curved into a playful smirk. “You’re not scared, are you?”

“I can’t really tell…”

You gawked at him — at the stern expression on his face, at his darkened eyes and reddened, slightly parted mouth. Whatever he intended, you could feel yourself getting wet.

He grabbed your wrist; it ached from the power of the pressure Bucky wielded, but the feeling only intensified the sensation. He dragged you behind him, and you almost tripped over your own feet — he wasn't walking that fast; it was your limbs that seemed frail and numb.

“Bed,” Bucky commanded as soon as you reached the bedroom. Massaging your sore wrist by instinct, you went in that direction, your steps wobbly. You settled on the middle of the mattress. Bucky came closer. “Turn around.”

Captivated by his massive, heavy frame, under which you hoped you were about to end up, fascinated by the calmness and dominance he radiated, you couldn’t stop looking at him.

“Turn around,” he said again, much slower than before. “I’m not gonna ask you again.”

Your mouth went dry. Finally obeying his order — not in fear of the consequences, but looking forward to further development of the situation — you turned around. Bucky placed his hand between your shoulder blades and with pressure forced you to lean forward; so you landed on your knees, additionally supporting your hands on the mattress.

He lifted your dress above your hips, a quiet snort escaped his mouth. “You fucking kidding me?” Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly, shaking his head, hooking his fingers under the hems of the lace pants you were wearing. He pulled the material lower, completely exposing your ass, sending a wave of heat over your entire body.

You got up one knee first, then the other, making it easier for Bucky to strip you of your underwear. Then, he grabbed a piece of your dress and pulled you to him; as your hands detached from the mattress, he reached for them and tied tightly with your pants. The fabric, digging into your wrists, turned out to give you a surprising amount of pleasure.

Bucky pushed you forward again, this time far harder. Deprived of the possibility to support yourself, the front of your body fell on the bed, while your ass still remained up. All you could do was turn your head to the side — other than that, you were completely helpless, dependent on his mercy.

It seemed, however, that he didn't have any for you. You realized this when you felt a sharp, piercing pain, accompanied by a loud clap — Bucky’s hand landed on your ass cheek, and it landed hard. Shocked by this new and unfamiliar sensation, you shouted, your eyes filled with tears.

Bucky spanked you again. Your body trembled, and only a muffled gasp came out of your mouth this time.

Another slap — you felt your skin burning and stinging in that spot, getting more and more tender; you were painfully aware of this as his hand, once again, smacked your ass rapidly. You moaned, your back arching, your pussy almost dripping, asking to be filled. But that sweet torture was nearly as good.

“More?” he rasped, breathing heavily. You weren't sure how to respond; he was punishing you, so if you asked for more, would he actually give you what you wanted? And if you refused, would he stop?

“Y/N,” Bucky pressed.

“More,” you replied quickly, your voice weak.

“More what?”

At that moment, your mind wasn't in the best place for the logical, coherent sentences he always expected from you. “I want you to spank me more. Please,” you exhaled.

“You don’t wanna talk, so I’ll make you use your words. Make that pretty mouth of yours work.”

Bucky fulfilled your request, and you almost jumped up on the mattress, clamped your eyelids shut and let out a loud whine — that one was definitely stronger than the others, causing goosebumps all over your heated body.

The bed sunk behind you, signaling his arrival. The t-shirt he had thrown off landed silently somewhere on the floor. Your lips parted, releasing a long moan as the tip of his cock brushed hard against your wet, throbbing cunt. He buried into your core painfully slowly and lazily; you felt his hardness spreading inside you, filling all the space you could give him.

Bucky clenched his hands on your hips and began to thrust into you. The pain radiating from your cheeks mixed with the surging pleasure, creating a combination you could quickly become addicted to. Gasping loudly, he pounded into you again and again; immediately he reached to your head, slipped his fingers into your hair and tightened them there. He turned your head to the side so he could see at least part of your face — the changes taking place on it. He wanted to control your pleasure. Because as you, stimulated by spanking and waiting, began to get closer to an orgasm faster than you could expect, Bucky suddenly stopped. He slid out, leaving behind only emptiness and a devastating lack of satisfaction.

“Jamie, please-” you choked out.

“Don’t Jamie me,” Bucky replied sternly. He leaned forward, putting the weight of his body on yours. He pulled your head slightly away from the mattress, his mouth hanging right next to your ear. “You lied to me today, Y/N.”

You nodded immediately, ready to agree to everything he wanted.

“You know that what you did was wrong? Hmm?”

“Yes. Yes, I know. And I'm sorry.”

“I don't want your sorry. I want you to never lie to me again. You are my wife and I won't have it, do you understand?” he said, the words seeping out through his teeth.

“I understand, but please-”

Bucky clenched his fingers harder in your hair. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“You promise what, Y/N?” he inquired impatiently, although at that moment it seemed like he had all the time in the world.

Taking another deep breath, you gathered the strength and all the concentration you had in you to say those few words he cared so much about. “I-I promise to never lie to you again.”

Bucky moved slightly away, left a kiss on the nape of your neck, then straightened up. He entered you again, and again you felt that blissful fullness. At first you got the impression that he was still fucking some discipline into you, but the rising sensations made you think that he was actually rewarding you for understanding your mistake and promising to do better.

In that position — with your hips up — his dick quickly found the right spot and hit exactly where it needed to. Wet, well lubricated with all your juices, it was sliding in and out smoothly, bringing you more rapture than you could beg for. With loud, desperate cries, you were praying to your god, taking his name in vain — the one who was just fucking you senseless. Because Bucky couldn’t be just a human; he was too perfect, too beautiful, too merciful as he forgave your sins.

You clenched around his cock, your eyes rolled back as consciousness left your mind. Apart from the overwhelming release, you also felt Bucky's load spilling into you; he, too — with a few last thrusts — let out a few whimpers, crowned by a throaty growl, and his body slumped against yours. His chest, pressed to your back, rose and fell as he tried to normalize his breathing. He pulled away from you to free your wrists as quickly as possible; your hands dropped lifelessly, too weak and too useless.

“Let’s clean you up, hmm?” Bucky suggested; surprisingly gently for the man he was just a moment ago.

“I want to stay here,” you muttered with half of your face still in the bed sheets. Once again you felt his body pressing against yours as laid a tender kiss behind your ear.

You woke up to an empty bed.

Your sore body covered with a blanket, the curtains closed. The watch on the nightstand said four in the morning.

The urgent need to use the toilet dissuaded you from further sleep. You didn't feel fully awake until you were in the shower — as the warm water washed over your body, you wondered where Bucky had gone at such an early hour. You hoped that three months of hard work in Italy would give him some more space here in New York.

You got out of the shower, removed the remnants of your makeup, brushed your teeth, then returned to the bedroom. Curiosity was stronger than tiredness, besides, you felt rested enough, maybe even too awake for any more sleep. You put on one of Bucky's t-shirts, rummaged from his side of the closet, and left the room. You didn't have to search for long — the warm glow pouring out of the living room immediately caught your attention.

Bucky was sitting on the couch — under the light of the lamp standing over him, he was looking through some papers scattered on the coffee table. Full concentration on his face, marked by a deep wrinkle between his brows.

“What are you doing?” you spoke.

He glanced up at the sound of your voice. “Checking the account statements from Sapphire Dune and Marble Aurora.” Rubbing his eye, Bucky sighed with clear tiredness.

Your forehead creased as the names of your father’s casinos rang in your ears. You haven't thought about them once lately, so you wouldn't expect it from Bucky either. On the other hand, your Family's affairs were now his concern.

With your arms folded across your chest, you walked closer to the couch and peeked at the documents. “Something wrong with them..?”

“No,” he assured, smiling softly. “They’re doing really… decently.”

“So maybe I should stick to them…” you murmured.

Bucky raised his eyebrows, watching you with a surprise. He reached out his hand to you in an inviting gesture. You took it and sat down right next to him; so close that your thighs touched. He didn’t say a word, waiting for you to tell him everything that was bothering you.

“I lied to you earlier too,” you confessed. “I lied that I don’t need money. And it’s not like I have to close the gallery in a week or something, but…” You gasped. “Some funding is always useful. And Adrian seemed like the perfect sponsor until-” you hesitated, shrugging. “But now he is acting weirder than ever and-”

“Did he do something to you?” Bucky asked right away, interrupting you.

“No, he didn’t,” you protested. “A couple hours ago, he offered me a trip to Paris,” you began, and Bucky’s forehead furrowed at those words. “He said no one will ever invest in the gallery again if I turn him down. And I can't afford it, I can't ask for your money, because I want to make money, not take it out of the house-”

“Y/N, you make money,” Bucky claimed, demonstratively lifting one of the papers. “It's all here,” he added, his brows drew together. “Besides, is using my — our — money really worse than selling your time to this fucking creep?”

Feeling more and more resigned, you let out a heavy breath. “Bucky…”

“You don't like him, you don't feel comfortable around him, the business isn't going as you would like it to. Or am I wrong?” He was looking at you expectantly, although he didn't actually need any confirmation — he saw the answer written all over your face. He touched your cheeks, his fingers spread on your skin, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones. “You are my wife, and it is my job to take care of you. You have to let me do exactly that, Y/N.”

Staring relentlessly into his eyes, filled with sincerity and concern, you took his hand off your face and placed a tender kiss inside it, brushing your lips over the scar there; the scar bonding you forever. “Okay,” you whispered.

You pulled your legs up onto the couch and snuggled into his side. Bucky put his arm around you and rested his cheek on the top of your head.

A silence settled in, filled only with your peaceful breathing — it didn't bother you or Bucky, since neither of you felt the need to break it. You thought it would be much more difficult; that you would need far more time to get used to him, especially after his last absence. But having a huge couch with plenty of space to occupy, you decided to deprive yourself of whatever space there was.

“Are you going to elaborate, in any way, on what you did to me earlier..?”

“Elaborate…” Bucky repeated. He exhaled, blowing some of the air out of his lungs, then rested his head on the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling for a moment. “I've wanted to do it since that night when I saw you in that little nightgown of yours.” He raised his brow. “And that's about it.”

You sat up straight, your eyes on Bucky’s face. “That night?” you asked in disbelief. “As a punishment for what?”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “Did it really feel like a punishment to you?”

Even if you were able to answer him without hesitation, you looked away to think about it. Or pretend to think about it. You bit your lip.

“Did it feel good..?” Bucky inquired, his tone gentle and careful.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. Very good,” you said, not sure if you should really admit it. “We can do it more often,” you suggested, and Bucky’s eyebrows rose instantly. Taken slightly aback, he peered at you with sudden liveliness, his eyes sparked with fascination that struck him like a speeding train. “What?” you laughed softly, but then understood something — you always sensed a gentle restraint in him, keeping him in check; the chains holding him down. Now, you were able to hear them break. Was it you who destroyed them? Your innocent permission?

Bucky smirked, shaking his head, letting you know he wasn’t going to be too harsh on you. But as harsh as you’d allow him to be.

He leaned forward, putting his forearms on his knees, and reached for one of the papers so he could return to analyzing the documents. You clung to his back, placing your chin on his shoulder blade. He immediately located his free hand on your arm, wrapped around his torso.

“Go back to bed,” he said, his eyes still focused on the statements.

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No, of course not,” Bucky assured right away, “but aren’t you tired, sunshine?” He turned his head as far as he could to glance at you at least from the corner of his eye. Taking the opportunity, you stretched out further, to reach his face, and planted a few quick but tender pecks on his cheek, making him laugh softly.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446 @learisa @sjsmith56 @aya-fay @hhiggs @wishingwell-2 @buckysgirl01 @emily-roberts @prettylittlepluviophile @leaaa008 @itvy5601 @melsunshine @pattiemac1 @marvel-fandom23 @rabbitrabbit12321 @xsecretsirenx @heyyitsreign @xhollycowx @samfreakingwinchester @thrnlvr @samjuarezzz @loustan90 @kandis-mom @abaker74 @gabshouse @casa-boiardi @globetrotter28 @fand0mskullfa1ry @iateall-yourcookies @swordofawriter @theroyalmanatee @midnightvitality @thebuckybarnesvault @milanaasblog @itsmytimetoodream @talesofadragon @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @bbiaa420 @funkybarnes @sebastians-love @walkingwithoutreason @hereticdance @abitofblues @purple-vegan @queenashen @oqueano @yourdryadwife @lethallyprotected @abbyyourlocalmilf @sapphirebarnes @matchat3a

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elordilover · 1 month

Note

HIIIII UM CAN I HAVE A WALKER SCOBELL X FEM!READER AND SHE GOT CAUGHT WATCHING EDITS OF HIM AND LIKE DIOR AND LEAH SNATCH HER PHONE AND LOOK AT WAHT SHE WATCHING AND WALKER SEES WHATS HAPPENING AND THEY SHOW HIM🥺🥺

I LOVE THIS !!!!

edits

pairing: walker scobell x fem!reader

summary: while you, dior, and leah were hanging out on set and they steal your phone and discover what you were watching

warnings: not proof read, sorry that the edits are on pinterest 💀 i don’t have tiktok

————————————————————————

you were on set, but weren’t needed until 9:25 so you decided to just chill on the couch until that time. you could admit that you had a tiny crush on your costar, walker scobell. i mean who didn’t. you would never admit this but, you secretly had edits of your costar saved on tiktok.

no one else was around so you decided to put in one of your airpods and scroll through a few of your favorite edits.

you tried to keep your cheeks from turning red just in case dior or leah walked past. they would for sure ask what you were all smiley about.

“Y/N”, you heard as footsteps got closer to you, it was dior and leah. shoot. that was a close one.

you immediately turned off your phone and protected it with your life, you would never hear the end of this is they found out what you were watching. leah sat down on your right and dior on your left, both of them were confused why you were being so protective of your phone, you usually weren’t.

“what are you hiding”, dior asked with a high pitched tone.

“nothing”, you said quickly, “what do you mean”

“oh Y/N, look who it is, aryan!”, dior said while pointing toward the boy who walked toward you three.

you felt someone’s hand across your lap, grabbing your phone. leah grabbing your phone. after she secured it, her and dior ran off before you could steal it back.

“stop”, you yelled. you didn’t care if you were interrupting a shot, you had to get your phone back.

since leah was one of your best friends, she had your password to your phone and immediately unlocked it. once you realized this you sprang up from your seat and started dashing to them.

“guys, i’m serious stop!” you yelled toward them as they continued running away from you.

you saw both of their jaw drop, their eyes go wide and look up toward you. you knew that they found what you were trying to hide.

leah and dior looked at each other, both silently agreeing what to do next. they bolted toward set, where walker was. oh my god. this is not going to end well. a million different possibilities ran through your head. what will walker think? what will he do? will we still be friends?

you tried to chase after them but you knew it would be horrible if walker saw you after your secret had just been revealed. you stayed put and felt helpless.

you could see walker’s confused expression as they sprinted toward him. you were still relatively close so you could hear all the words that were being said.

“walker!”, dior and leah both yelled at the same time, out of breath.

“what, what’s going on?” he replied.

“you have to see this!” dior said while leah passed the phone toward walker, gesturing for him to take it.

“wait is this Y/N’s phone? why do you have it? wait where is she?”, walker rambled on.

“it doesn’t matter just watch what’s on there”, leah replied quickly, just wanting walker to see it.

walker looked down and saw his own face on the screen. he turned up the volume and watched will a slightly confused look.

“wait okay now look”, dior said while grabbing the phone out of his hands and showing him all of your saved edits. edits of him to be exact.

“wait where is she?” walker asked concerned.

you were terrified that walker was going to come and find you. you never want to see him again after this. this will most likely ruin your entire friendship that you spent months creating.

“well i don’t know where she is now, but she was right over there a second ago”, leah said while pointing over to where you were.

without a second thought walker came speed walking toward where you were, he was determined to find you. you were terrified, what was he going to say to you? leah and dior decided to stay there and watch what was about to go down.

“Y/N?”, you heard his soft voice say, “oh my god there you are”

“im sorry”, you said, prepping yourself for a rejection.

“no it’s okay i promise baby” he whispered while your cheeks immediately heated up due to the pet name.

his arms stretched out toward you for a hug. you accepting, breathing in his scent, you were relived he didn’t hate you over this ordeal.

“and to make you feel better, i have a bunch of edits of you saved”, he whispered in your ear, just loud enough for you to hear.

————————————————————————

thank you guys so much for reading! feedback is appreciated!

*requests are open*

taglist 🏷️: @izzystylinson @saltnseas kesha16

@platypusbearrr@lilly-andreas123

🎀♥️🫒🫐🌈🌍🌺🪷💟🐇🐝🦋🧦🫀🌚🥿❤️

#walker scobell x reader #writing #walker scobell fanfiction #walker scobell fic #walker scobell x you #scobell #walker #walker scobell fluff #x reader #walker scobell fic rec #walker scobell sweet #walker scobell percy jackson #walker scobell

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