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loveofafangirl · 3 years

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Unexpected

[Baron Zemo Masterlist] [Marvel Masterlist]

Pairing: Baron Zemo x Fem!Reader/You

Synopsis: Life with Zemo had been going well until you got some unexpected news that you worried would destroy everything. *Angst + Fluff/Comfort*

Rating/Warnings: General; mentions of previous character death

Word Count: ~1,150

Author’s Note: Thank you for all the support and love these past few days. I’ve loved writing Zemo and am so grateful to all of you who have interacted with my posts. I can’t thank you enough.

You look down, overwhelmed with emotion with what you see. You had convinced yourself that you didn’t want this—you didn’t need it—being with him was enough. But now, with your eyes glued to the test in your hands, you want this more than you could have ever imagined.

Your smile is dulled by the tears silently cascading down your features. You didn't know how to tell him.

He loved you and the life you built together. He loved children. He doted and spoiled every child that had crossed your paths in the time you had been with him; but, he didn't want one of his own.

The loss of his son had broken a part of him that he couldn't move on from. He loved you, and he loved children, but the idea of being a father again wasn't something he could bear. The pain that crossed his face any time the two of you had discussed it was more than you could ever hope to understand. He had suffered the most significant loss a person could—the loss of a child. The world is too dangerous, he would say. You understood what he meant and the concerns he had.

For days you try and fail to work up the courage to tell him. Every time you got close, you found an excuse to keep your secret. As long as he didn't know, you could still be happy. As long as he didn't know, you wouldn't cause him any undue pain.

One day, it becomes too much. The feelings you had attempted to bottle up reach their pressure point. Tears begin streaming, and you can't stop them.

"I'm sorry." The words barely slip from your lips as you run off to the bedroom, hoping he won't follow you, even though you know better than that. You bury your face in the pillow as you try to muffle your cries.

"Y/N?" The bed shifts as he takes a seat beside you. He tenderly strokes your back, whispering softly to you.

His gentle, worried touch pushes you over. Sobbing, your body shakes uncontrollably.

"Liebling, come." He gently lifts your head. His loving eyes fill with concern as he guides you into his arms.

You want to resist because you know what you have to do, but you don't have the strength to fight it. You fall into his chest, hiding your tears. The safety of his arms around you gives you a flicker of confidence as you work up the nerve to say what you've been avoiding for the past week.

"Whatever this is, we will get through it," he offers, stroking your hair.

You shake your head. "I don't know how it happened. We had been so careful." Your words are choppy through your sobs.

"Tell me what has you this troubled." His warm hands rub your back. "There is nothing you must fear with me. You know the worst of who I was, and you chose to see the good. No matter what has happened, it changes nothing. I love you."

You pull back enough to meet his gaze. "I'm pregnant." Your confession breaks in your raw throat. You wince, trying again. "I'm pregnant, Helm."

You feel his body grow rigid at your words. His arms fall away from you, leaving you with only your fears. Your hands instinctively cradle your stomach, holding on to the part of him you have left.

His normally warm brown eyes are distant, his face unreadable with conflicting emotions.

The two of you sit in silence for what feels like an eternity until you can't take it another second. "Please! Say something," you plead. "Anything."

Your voice pulls him back. "Is this true? Are you certain?"

You nod, tears falling quietly. "I had my doctor verify the results," you answer weakly.

His eyes close as he nods in understanding.

"I don't want to lose the baby," you admit with as much strength as you can muster. "I know I said I didn't need this, but now that it's here, I want this. I want this for us."

His hand reaches for yours as his eyes open once more. There was still pain, but there was something new there, too—a flicker of light.

Neither of you has words to articulate the depth of all the emotions flooding through you.

He leans forward, resting his forehead on yours. His free hand brushes away the tears, although new ones replace them almost immediately. He kisses you sweetly. His thumb caresses your cheek as he keeps you close.

You lean into his touch, needing to hear him say that it was going to be okay.

Instead of the words you were waiting to hear, he slides to his knees, his face parallel with your yet unchanged stomach. He gently lifts your top and peppers your skin with the softest kisses you could imagine.

You hear his quiet cries and know how much conflict there is in him. He leans against you and whispers a silent prayer. You can't hear the words but understand the sentiment.

Your fingers weave through his hair, hoping to bring him some comfort. You weren't even a parent yet, and the thought of losing your child was too much to imagine. You know you could never understand the weight of his loss and how terrifying the thought of suffering that loss a second time must be.

His head rests in your lap as he holds your hand, letting the unexpected news sink in.

Your own tears quiet to a trickle as your focus shifts from your worries to him.

"I feared this moment," he begins, looking up at you. His eyes are swollen with tears of his own. "I did not think I could stand the idea of being a father again." You tense as his voice wavers, but he continues. "This news—" He nods willing himself to continue. "I love you, y/n. And our child will know nothing but love."

You inhale deeply, letting your worries fade at his words. The stress in your body evaporates, and you feel you can breathe for the first time in days.

His eyes glisten with tears, but for the first time, you see the joy behind them.

You sniffle back your tears. "I love you, too."

He envelops you into his arms, keeping you safe as the two of you let your newfound joy wash over you.

The future may be uncertain, but as long as you had each other, you knew you would get through it. There was nothing either of you wouldn't do to protect your child. Neither of you could have anticipated how much healing and love that child would bring to your life or how this unexpected news could bring you closer than before.

Perma(til the end of the line): @the-soot-sprite; @fandomxreaders

Zemo tags: @montypythonsholysnail ; @killsandthrills ; @noavengers ;

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list. I truly appreciate your support!

#baron zemo #zemo #hemlut zemo #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo fan fiction #hemlut zemo x reader #baron zemo x you #baron zemo x y/n #zemo x reader #zemo x you #zemo x y/n #the falcon and the winter soldier #marvel fan fiction #mcu fan fiction #pregnancy au

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Text

Too Good for Grey

A/N: Sooo this is a fic that I’ve had in mind ever since I first posted my list of Imagine Ideas a while ago! Though I know Charlie’s decision not to play the role of Christian Grey is what was best for him, part of me will always be heartbroken that we all missed out on 50 Shades of Hunnam 😭💔 In this fic you’re his girlfriend; he’s considering the role and you let him... practice in the bedroom 😏

Pairing: Charlie Hunnam x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, rough sex, dom!Charlie, blindfold, bondage, punishment, light flogging (just with his belt, nothing too intense) Request: No specific request, but there’s been demand for a Part 2 of Red Carpet Rogue and I decided to write this fic as a sequel to it!

Word Count: ~3.4k

[Please read Red Carpet Rogue first if you haven’t yet! Otherwise the second paragraph won’t make much sense without that reference...]

You love mornings like this one. Lazy weekends with your boyfriend, hottest man under the sun. Completely chill and easy and carefree, nowhere to be. No work, no plans. You’re seated in his lap feeding him pancakes from your fork, since that’s the only way to get your man to focus on his breakfast. Charlie’s hands are fully occupied, roving and reckless, moving all over your robe and deep inside. Clearly still riding high from such a scandalously sexy night.

You push another forkful past his lips, then playfully lean in to lick some syrup from his chin as it so sweetly drips. His stubble tickles, causing you to giggle, while he growls and tightens his grip on your hips. “Mmm...” he hums, digging into your skin with his thumbs. “You know I still can’t get over just how fucking awesome last night was, Y/N. Thinking we should invest in a stretch of red carpet to relive it over and over again.”

“Hmm, I like the way you’re thinking...” you respond, settling deeper in his lap and slowly sinking, till you feel your man’s enormous cock grind up against your cunt. Heat burning through your silk robe and his sweatpants. “God, you were so fucking dominant. More than you’ve ever been.”

“That a good thing?” the bastard asks you, as if he has to, bursting into laughter when you shoot him a glare of the fuck do you think?!? Your dom/sub dynamic is not a new thing. “Well, chalk it up to this new script that I’m considering. Came my way yesterday before we headed out for the evening.”

He gestures at the stack of papers on the counter behind him just now, which you hadn’t noticed all morning somehow. You blink at the title printed on the front page and cannot believe what you’re seeing. Basically stop breathing. “Oh, wow...”

Charlie flashes a cheeky grin as he gets off on your reaction. Can’t resist making a stupid dirty pun, ‘cause he’s the worst. Rubbing his crotch harder against yours as he says the words. “Yeah, who could’ve seen that coming.”

“Now if you’re gonna start talking dirty to me, Mr. Hunnam... you’d better be ready to act on it,” you warn him, well aware he’s been ready and raring to go all damn morning. “I know you’d slay this role but don’t know if you really want it, to be honest.”

He shrugs as he kisses stray drops of maple syrup from the corners of your mouth. “Yeah, I’ve got my doubts. But haven’t ruled it out. Think some part of me wants it. Luckily I’ve got the greatest girlfriend in the world to help me work through my decision-making process.”

“Well, should we call it work...” your lips curve into a seductive smirk, “...or play?”

At those words, Charlie’s cock fucking jerks. That’s your answer, of course. Better than anything he can say.

And you’re so fucking ready to meet Mr. Grey.

***************

“You sure about this, babe?” he asks as you hastily finish your pancakes. You’re hungry for something quite different, for fuck’s sake. Your pussy’s so wet that it practically aches. “It’s not like we have a red room...”

“But we do have a very nice bedroom,” you tell him. He’s trying to stall and you’re not gonna let him. You’re ready to go. “Plus we’ve got, you know—silk scarves and ties, a closet full of all kinds of hardware supplies. So I’m sure you can... improvise.”

Charlie’s still acting as if he has to think twice. Blinks twice, with an excited little twinkle in his eyes. “Somebody’s eager...”

“Somebody? Both of us, baby. You know you can’t wait for this either.”

“I just want to make sure you’re ready...”

“Charlie, I know you’ll take things slow and steady. I trust you completely,” you reassure him as you kiss his cheek softly and sweetly. “Besides, we’ll rely on the traffic lights code. Red for stop, yellow for ease it up. Green for go. They used those safewords in the books, right? Never read them so I don’t really know.”

“Then how do you know what—”

“Know what Fifty Shades even involves? Love, I’m not some kind of pop culture idiot,” you interrupt, taking his hand to guide him down the halls. You’re really not about to let him stand and stall. “And I may have looked up... a few things on Google. Being such a kinky bitch and all. Brainstorming new ways to play the role of your submissive little slut.”

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he grunts as he finally gives in to what he wants, suddenly slipping into dom mode all at once. Changing his tone, making you moan, slamming you up against the wall. Towering over you so big and strong and tall. “Who would’ve thought... who knew that’s what my sweet little girl is up to when you’re clicking away on your laptop? Googling filthy ways for me to fuck you up?”

You groan in desire as his dirty words start a fire. “Ch-Charlie...”

He reacts just as you knew he would, and his dominance feels so damn good. Last night he scolded you just the same, when you called him by name. “What the fuck do you call me?”

“Sir,” you instantly answer. Obviously. Filled with the urge to say more, like a good proper whore, since you feel more submissive than ever before. Thirsty for fifty shades of Charlie. “Thank you for reminding me, sir. I’m so sorry.”

“You better be,” he chides, sliding his hands down your shivering sides, then swiftly untying your robe and letting it fall open wide. His touch upon your skin is hot as hell and fucking heavenly. “Your place in life is to obey. Do as I say. To serve and pleasure me.”

“Yes, sir,” you whimper, breathing heavily, as he cradles your face in his dominant fingers. “I promise I’ll always remember.”

You’ve known it to be true, since the day you first met him: Charlie Hunnam owns you, and you fucking let him. You’re fated to live for his pleasure and love him forever.

He reads all of the thoughts in your head as he slowly lets go of your face, slaying you with his blazing blue gaze. Though you moan at the loss of his fingers, the power and passion of his touch still lingers. You can feel it all over your sensitive skin. Fifty shades of pure sin.

And you love it. Want every damn shade of it. Already so addicted to the deep submissive state you’re in.

The next words that he speaks... make you so fucking weak. Mr. Grey has most certainly come out to play. And he is here to stay. To make you fifty shades of horny. “That’s a good little whore. Gonna give you the punishment you’ve been so desperately hoping for. Now run off to the bedroom and wait for me... facing away from the open door... naked and down on your knees.”

****************

Yes, sir. Yes, please. You’re pretty sure your cunt is leaking all over the floor as you obey your master’s orders, flinging your robe off your shoulders, stripping down and sitting back upon your heels.

It’s not the first time Charlie’s ordered you to kneel—but this right now... just hits different somehow. He’s so hot it’s unreal, too dominant for you to even deal. And you’re obsessed with how insanely good it feels.

You’ve already lost track of just how long you’ve waited. Heart racing, breath bated. How much time has passed? It may have been two minutes or two hundred. You just know that once your man arrives at last, he’ll be all set to give you everything you’ve wanted.

The moment when he finally comes... you feel his presence from across the room. Exuding vibes of absolute alpha male dom. And you’re so desperate to receive all of that energy from him. You can’t believe how blessed you are to be his woman. Here experiencing fifty shades of Hunnam.

Though you’re dying to turn behind you toward the door to see how good he surely looks right now, you stop yourself somehow. Keep both hands resting on your thighs, with lowered eyes, head bowed. Still and silent, though self-conscious that you are breathing incredibly loud. You’re so fucking aroused.

As Charlie takes a few deliberate steps toward you... rests his hand against your head, stroking your hair and tenderly twining his fingers through... you already feel dead. Can’t stop some smutty sound from slipping out your slutty little mouth.

He then reaches around, to trace his thumb across your bottom lip, shifting his grip before you can even attempt to kiss his fingertips. Needs you to know that you are not to make a sound, till he allows. That he owns you without a fucking doubt.

He’s owning you now with the tone of his voice and the touch of his hand. “Y/N. I need you to understand... that you are mine to command.”

“Yes, sir,” you breathlessly answer. And the slut in you compulsively reacts, tilting your head back, in an effort to make eye contact. Dying to look up at his gorgeous face, to meet his gaze, as you profess the shameless fact: that you belong to him, in every way and always...

And yet your man has other plans. Prevents you from catching a glimpse of him before you even can. He had arrived with something in his hands—a strip of cloth, some kind of tie or scarf, silken and soft. He masterfully fastens it around your eyes the moment that your head tilts back, and suddenly your vision fades to black.

“Now that’s no way for a good little slut to act,” Charlie scolds, as he tightens your blindfold. “Shifting from your position? Moving without my permission?”

Ugh God, he’s so hot you could die. “I...”

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry. I’m sick of your worthless apologies. High time I teach you a lesson in proper submission.”

“Ohh, sir—” you moan as he pulls you closer, till the back of your head rubs against the huge bulge in his crotch. The prize that you crave so fucking much. The object of your dreams. You can tell that he’s wearing your favorite jeans, and his cock is so hard it’s obscene, bursting out of the seams.

Then he effortlessly hoists you onto your feet, the bare skin of your back sliding up against his upper body—shirtless, naturally—so that you can feel every firm ridge of his muscles and all of his raw carnal heat. “Now I know what you want... but what’s much more important... I know what you need.”

Those words murder your cunt, and it feels like time stops. Then the next thing you know Charlie has you facedown on the bed, both arms over your head. And he’s tying you up. Binding both of your wrists to the bedposts, with some fucking serious rope.

This is everything your inner slut ever hoped. And you can’t even cope.

He’s just getting started and already this feels so damn perfect you just want to cry. Fucking magic. You’re fucking ecstatic. Tears of pure euphoria rise to your eyes, fighting at the blindfold he had tied, dampening the fabric.

Charlie picks up on all your unspoken emotions, as he always does. He can tell that you’re buzzed and just wants to make sure that this isn’t too much. Leaning in near, to whisper sweetly in your ear. “How’s the traffic?”

“Huh...?” you reply in a hazy sigh, taking a moment just to realize what he means. “Oh—green. So green.”

“Mmm, good to know,” he smirks against your cheek, as you revert to being too horny to speak. “But we can always take it slow. Just let me know if we’re approaching yellow—”

All of a sudden you’re able to speak again, just then. The words are somewhat muffled as your face is partly burrowed in the pillows; you make sure that Charlie hears you loud and clear, though. “Hell no. Green means fucking go.”

“If you say so...” he smirks once more, kissing your cheek before he lifts off of your back, all fucking ready to attack. You both can’t wait for what’s in store.

Charlie has spanked you countless times before. With you facedown in bed, you would’ve guessed that’s what he had in mind—to slap your slutty ass red, then to fuck you from behind. Remind you that you’ll always be his dirty little fucking whore.

Today you’re hoping for a little something more.

And that’s exactly what he’s giving. This time around... the punishment’s bound to hit different.

You can hear the faint rustle, telltale sound of metal and leather as Charlie undoes his belt buckle. Oh, shit—surprise, surprise—for some of these supplies, he didn’t even have to venture in the hardware closet.

Everything he needs to exert his total dominance, he’s fucking got it.

And it’s everything you’ve ever fucking wanted.

“Know just how much this pretty ass loves getting punished...” he teases, taking your bare naked cheeks in his hands with a few tender strokes and squeezes.

If you had to guess—without being able to witness—he must’ve looped his undone belt around his neck to free both hands for just a minute. He must look so fucking hot right now. An absolute sex god like nobody’s business.

“This sweet ass will look even prettier in pink by the time we’re finished,” he says it like a promise, and you really hope he keeps it, to be honest. “You know I would say prettier in red, but...”

“Oh, no, that’s a bad word,” you murmur in playful laughter. Repeat the right color to make sure he feels reassured. “Green, sir. Want you to let loose and get fucking mean, sir.”

“Ugh fuck,” he murmurs, as you hear him smile while he slides the leather belt off of his shoulders. You can just imagine what the sight of you in such submission has done to his denim-clad cock. “You’re killing me, love...”

“But that’s your job. I’m the sub,” you remind him, well aware you’re coming close to topping from the bottom. Sort of. Whatever it takes, to get Mr. Grey to come out to play, to feel comfortable falling into his role as your absolute dom. “Now go crazy and get rough. I promise I want it, sir. Honest. I can’t get enough.”

“Such a good fucking slut,” Charlie rasps, slowly grazing the edge of the leather across the soft globes of your ass. “Once we’re done with your punishment... you know I’m gonna fucking wreck this perfect little cunt?”

“Yes, sir. Please punish me and use my pussy for your pleasure.”

“Motherfucker...” you hear him quietly mutter, scrambling to strip out of his jeans, because his cock is probably straining in pain against the denim, harder than it’s ever been. No surprise since your cunt’s also wetter than ever. It’s just so perfect that you two are getting off on this together. You love the way your dirty words have this effect on him, just as his do on you. You’re such a slut for Mr. Hunnam; the best thing is that he’s such a slut for you, too.

Once he’s finally naked and gets in position behind you, he takes a few seconds to soak in the view. Psyching up for what he is about to do: whip the shit out of you. Just as you want him to.

“Now with each lash that comes down, I want you to keep count. And need you to repeat the color. Loud. You understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you swear, yielding to his command, instinctively arching your ass up in the air, because you’re desperate for your punishment. “Yes, sir, I understand. Green means hit me as hard as you can.”

“You fucking greedy little cunt,” he taunts with a dominant sneer. “Who makes the rules here? I’m gonna go just as hard or as soft as I want.”

You realize you were stupid to think he would go so hard, right from the start. Charlie knows where your limits are, even when you don’t. He reads your body and your mind and sees into your heart. Knows just what you need even when you’re too focused on only what you want. That’s why you have no doubt that he’ll dish out the most perfect punishment.

And so he does.

From the very first lash on your ass... your breath halts with a heart-stopping gasp. You have never felt such a damn buzz. From the way the sensation bursts onto your skin, underneath the smooth leather, a blossom of sin, pain blurring into pleasure... you want this to just go on forever and ever.

Your master had given you orders, you somehow remember. “One...!” you scream, as you sink deeper into submission, so desperate for him it’s obscene. “Oh God, thank you, sir. Green.”

“Good girl,” he mutters, just before he treats you to another. Each hit makes your fucking toes curl. You are the luckiest bitch in the entire fucking world.

“Two! Fuck, thank you...” you wholeheartedly thank him again and again, with each serving of perfect pain, grateful to your dom for how fucking awesome it feels. It’s unreal. And you keep screaming green on repeat, to give him all the safety and comfort he needs.

He’s enjoying this, no doubt—his cock’s standing rock hard and proud—but this first time around, with each strike that comes down, Charlie is much more focused on reading your signals. Respecting your limits, especially when it’s so tempting to test them a little. You don’t really seem to have any with him, as far as he can tell. Which is epic on some level, but also scary as hell.

He decides when you’re finished, with getting punished, since you’re taking it too fucking well. All you want is more of it; you love it and can’t think of anything else. On your end it’s exquisite. Excruciating ecstasy fulfilling your every fantasy. All because it’s pain coming from him. Fifty shades of Hunnam. All because of how deeply you worship and love him.

If there’s one thing you love more than taking these whips from his belt, the sweetest sting you have ever felt... it’s getting ripped to pieces by his massive cock. Playing your lifelong role as a slut for Sir Hunnam to fuck. Taking him in your soaking wet cunt, letting him ravage you just as hard and as fast as he wants, rough and savage, dishing out some serious damage, till you both explode deep inside and all over each other at once.

Something about the hard passionate sex today, the way he wrecks today... feels even hotter after how you got to play.

Apparently he really likes it when you tap into his inner Mr. Grey.

You both come harder than you ever have, as his huge shaft unloads inside your hole and feeds your soul and breaks you right in half. Breathing in shallow gasps as you feel him fucking collapse, your naked back slick from the sweat off of his sculpted chest and his firm chiseled abs. His face is buried in your hair, and though you know how much he wants to unfasten your blindfold and unbind your wrists, so he can turn you over for a heartfelt kiss, and shower you with hours of loving aftercare... right now your man’s just laying there and praying for some air.

He’s just so perfect it’s not fair. You know he’ll spend the whole rest of the day talking through all your feelings, treating you to every form of healing. Endlessly obsessing over every mark upon your skin, like he committed some ungodly sin, compulsively asking you whether you’re really okay. And he’ll keep on asking no matter what you say. Although he also loves to play this way... deep down he’s doing it for you, because his love is pure and true.

And that was when you fucking knew: this man is way too good to take the role that he was offered yesterday. You’re here to help him though each step of his decision-making process, to respect him if he wants this, and support him either way—but you already feel quite sure after today that your man Charlie is quite honestly... too good for Grey.

***************

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kakashi-tsukuyomi · 3 years

Text

In Your Warmth

A/N: Okay, I made a quick, short fic on this scenario I was imagining a while ago. I couldn’t get it off my mind so I knew I had to write it down. Hope you all like it! (Also a warning: it’s actually very self-indulgent, and I might have inserted myself a bit LOL). This wasn’t beta-read, sorry! Please be nice T_T

Kakashi x FemReader, Canon Universe (After the war, maybe?)

Warnings: none

Fluff, fluff and more fluff, First Kiss, Kissing

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The sun bathed the sky with a warm, brilliant orange tint, and it turned everything it touched inhabiting beneath the heavens with the same hue. It made everything look beautiful, and because of it, it had made the village you had always loved and known more endeared to you. The sun’s warmth made it look like a setting from a movie -- the place being more warm, inviting and cozy than it already was. It casted a warm glow on both of your clothes and skins, causing you both to fit in the movie scene, and if only you weren’t aware that this was reality, you would have thought it actually was.

As you walked side by side, your hand accidentally -- although much to your delight -- brushed against his. The growing warmth in your face doubled the heat you felt caused by the sun. You thought if this had affected him, too. You couldn’t really tell from the cloth covering half of his face, but as you stole a glance, the soft, contented look on his eyes told you it did.

You didn’t know how it started, but you just felt it grow, anyway. The harmless admiration that had turned into unrequited infatuation for quite some time eventually turned into mutual respect. It slowly progressed into fondness and sympathy, which lately blossomed into understanding and affection. It had grown deep. You couldn’t describe it, but you just knew. You knew he did; you both did. It was never spoken between the two of you, but you knew it was there. At times you might have doubted if it was reciprocated, but when he invited you for a walk that late afternoon with just the two of you alone, quickly the doubts had wholly dissipated.

It was a nice day, and he wanted to watch the sunset. Maybe you wanted to take a walk with him, he had asked. He just came home from a mission earlier that afternoon, and even though you initially protested that he rest at home, he smiled and assured you he wanted to unwind with you instead. As you both passed by Izumo and Kotetsu sitting behind the guard post, they acknowledged you both, waving cheerily and giving Kakashi mischievous looks and a playful salute. You couldn’t suppress your giggle as you notice a blush forming on his exposed skin.

He led you to the edge of a forest just outside the village. You noticed there were a few benches installed along the way, but there weren’t anyone else in the place besides you two. It was an unpopular place, he said, and only a few people ever stayed much there. But the view in the late afternoon was beautiful, and he had always spent most of his afternoons here. You wondered that in the long time that you had known each other, he had never shown you this place before.

You both stopped by the bench, and with a smile, he motioned for you to sit down. You took your seat, and he sat beside you, a bit too near for comfort yet still providing a considerable distance between you two. From the corner of your eye, you saw his hand rest on top of the backrest, and you could feel the fabric of his sleeves barely touching the skin on your neck. You weren’t sure if it was an invitation, but you felt the atmosphere change. You didn’t know if it was just the warmth that the setting sun emanated, but everything felt so cozy, and you scooted over next to him, resting your back against his side and your head on his shoulder. You felt his body suddenly turn rigid, but you continued to gaze at the view before you, settling comfortably against his body. Eventually, you turned your head to look at him, and you saw him staring at you as if he didn’t know what to do. You gave him a tender smile, and you felt his body relax, his eyes returning your tender gaze and his arm behind you finally curling around your shoulders.

The sun was now setting lower, and the view before you was sublime. There was now a red tint added to the orange hue of the sky, and the sun blazed majestically on the horizon. You marveled at the scene’s beauty, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh of content.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed, enamored by the view before you.

“Yeah. It is…” you heard him softly say, and if only you weren’t too engrossed with the scenery, you would have caught him looking at you instead of at the sky.

Pleasant thoughts were suddenly cut short as you felt fabric barely touching your cheek. You froze, and through the fabric, a warm breath caressed your skin. Both of you didn’t move. Time passed for what seemed like an eternity, until finally, you felt the fabric touch your cheek, accompanied by what felt like warm lips hiding behind it.

It lingered for a while on your skin until you felt it pull away from you. You moved your head slowly and turned to look at him, moving to settle more comfortably on his shoulder. There was now only a small distance between your faces, and for a long moment, you were both staring at each other’s eyes rather intensely.

After a while, his eyes searched your face, looking for signs of hesitation. You wished he would just return his gaze at you, and when he did, you held his gaze piercingly, making sure to communicate your feelings of longing and affection. He took this as a sign of affirmation, and as he leaned in closer, he slowly pulled down his mask. You heard yourself softly gasp at the sight, but he didn’t give you more time to take in the view as you felt his warm lips pressed against yours.

He moved his lips delicately… softly, as if he was afraid to break you. His kiss was tender yet firm, with a gentle authority as if to say that you were his, and he was yours. His palm rested in between your jaw and cheek, and he cradled it ever so gently. You reciprocated the kiss just as tenderly and sweetly, and you found your hand trailing towards the back of his neck, softly grabbing the hair just above his nape. He let out a soft, content sigh against your mouth, and you felt his hand tenderly hold your waist, and with your other hand, you did the same to his.

You broke away from the kiss and smiled against his lips. So you were right, he did return the feelings, after all. You knew there was a mutual understanding even before, but you couldn’t help but feel elated at this culmination of your mutual pining. It always felt like he was so hesitant before, and you knew that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. But you never really pushed him nor pressured him into acting. With everything that had happened in his life, you knew he deserved to have time and space to think about everything. And you waited for him patiently, and with that unwavering patience, you were rewarded so greatly.

“Why did I wait this long?” he murmured against your lips, and he moved them again, placing another sweet kiss on your upper lip, slowly moving downwards towards your lower lip. You couldn’t help but giggle, and you pulled away just slightly, staring tenderly at him. You took in the sight of his face -- his perfect nose, his thin yet soft lips, the scar that ran down to his cheek, and the adorable mole on his chin. You cupped his cheek with your hand, your thumb grazing his skin. You had always thought he was good-looking even with the mask, but you never imagined he could be this handsome. You continued to stare at his face, and as he watched you, his lips curved into an amused smile.

The sun had nearly set fully in the horizon. Indeed, he was stupid to have let it drag on, you mused to yourself. And yet you knew that you were more foolish. Deep inside, no matter how long it would take him to confess, you knew you would still wait for him. And if he had asked you again to wait a little bit more, you knew you would. Perhaps, it was a fault; you had always loved him. There was really no one else but him.

#kakashi x reader #kakashi x you #kakashi fanfiction #first kiss #kiss me please kakashi #let me take care of you forever #and ever and ever and ever

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xoluvx · 3 years

Text

cardigan; spideychelle

» pairing: peter parker x michelle jones » song: cardigan » word count: 4.4K

𝐕𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐞, 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

MJ walked down the paved sidewalk; she gripped her phone in one hand, the strap of her schoolbag on the other. Her heavy boots clicked clacked on the unsteady concrete as she saw her destination on the horizon.

She cursed herself under her breath looking at her phone. She was going to be late at this point. Why bother? She took in a deep breath as she stopped to rest; straightening her back realizing how heavy her bag really was.

The sweat made the back of her t-shirt cling to her back and she quickly aired it as she finally approached the building. Her hand wrapped around the cold metal opening the door. Glancing left and right, she had no idea which way her classroom was. This was going to be a long semester.

𝐒𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

When she finally made herself comfortable, having realized that she was in fact ten minutes early and the class started at 9:15 and not 9:00am like she’d somehow remembered, she reached for her water bottle taking a sip.

The minutes dragged out before the professor entered the room, apologizing for being a minute late. She sympathized with the female, knowing how much she hated the feeling of being late.

“We’ll be going over the syllabus today and I’ll be answering questions. If we have time-“ the professor was in the middle of her speech when the door flung open. A very flushed brown haired boy sprung through the door. His backpack hung loosely from his shoulder.

His eyes instantly softened when he realized he was late and had interrupted the professor. His mouth formed an ‘O’ and his brows raised as he apologized repetitively.

MJ was doodling on her notebook, but raised her head when she heard the commotion. Her face horrified yet amused as she watched Peter fuss, shuffling through the open area searching for a seat. His eyes instantly caught MJ’s and he smiled brightly. He apologized one last time as MJ removed her bag from the chair next to her; a chair she’d purposely saved for him.

“Very smooth, Parker.” MJ softly teased looking straight ahead at the professor who was shaking her head trying to get past the incident.

“The mission ran later than I thought,” he whispered dropping his backpack on the floor trying to catch his breath as he adjusted his casual button down. MJ could see a hint of red peeking through the crevices: his suit.

Now looking at the PowerPoint the professor had pulled up on the projector, MJ passed her water bottle to Peter who gladly took it gulping down the rest of the water. MJ smirked hearing him gulp. Her heart fluttering as she provided him with her form of comfort.

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢'𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

“Can you believe we’re one year closer to graduation?” Peter hummed as he skipped in front of her. MJ was walking calmly as she watched him bounce; his usual energetic self. MJ chuckled wrapping her arms around her body.

“We just started our third year,” she reasoned, though she knew there was no reasoning with Peter right now. “Besides, if you keep pulling stunts like today, you’ll be here an extra year.” She joked recalling what had happened that morning.

Peter stopped waiting for her to catch up. He smiled watching her glance at him, her arms still around her body as she looked at him sweetly.

“Good thing I have my voice of reason right here,” he smiled pointing at her as he started running backwards. The alcohol had definitely gone to his head, MJ thought as she watched him glance around making sure no one was around before flinging his body around a lamp post.

“Voice of reason says you’re going to get hurt,” MJ hollered as he continued running. The alcohol in her system was making her sleepy, and it’d almost disappeared because she was starting to feel cold again. The crop top she was wearing now seemed like a bad idea and she hurried to get back to her dorm; and catch up to Peter.

𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

MJ came out of the small bathroom built into her dorm room. Her hair wet, feet tucked into her slippers. She glanced at Peter who was laying down on her bed; his clothes discarded on her desk chair. He straightened up when he saw her come out in his Midtown sweatshirt, her legs bare apart from the pink fuzzy slippers. Yes, MJ wore pink in the comfort of her dorm room.

Peter smiled scooting in the bed making room for her. She slid in next to him resting her head on the pillow. Usually she’d wait until her hair was a little drier, but she was too tired. Her eyes felt heavy and the shower had only made her sleepier.

Peter pulled her comforter over their bodies as she cuddled into his chest. He was warm to the touch; the heat radiated from his body and offered comfort to MJ. Peter snuggled further into her as she rested in the nook of his neck; her body slightly folding into his.

His hand spread across her bare back as it usually did; holding her close like he usually did. An old habit now. He kissed the top of her head before kissing her forehead until MJ leaned her head back and he kissed her lips tenderly. They both smiled into the kiss before readjusting themselves to their previous sleeping position.

“Goodnight,” Peter whispered kissing the top of her head one last time before closing his eyes drifting to sleep.

𝐀 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬, 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

“I’ve assigned partners randomly. This assignment is worth thirty-percent of your grade,” the professor explained as Peter glanced at MJ giving her a playful worried face. His eyebrows were raised and if he weren’t in class right now he would’ve stuck his tongue out at her.

MJ returned the look leaning her head on her hand before glancing back at the screen which displayed the partnerships. Her blank face slightly saddened when she saw she was partnered with a random girl and not Peter.

Peter scanned the screen; he gave MJ a tight line smile noticing they weren’t partners. His hand slide under the desk intertwining their pinky fingers. Their secret way of comforting each other.

Usually MJ wouldn’t mind working with someone else. Heck, her and Peter rarely shared classes. But, she knew the girl who was partnered with Peter and it was almost as if the universe was casting a curse on their relationship.

Since day one, almost as if she had smelled Peter stepping on to campus, this girl was not very discreet about her feelings towards him. She was desperate for his attention; MJ could bet she was jumping of joy in her head that she was working on such a large project with her boyfriend.

MJ cringed slightly. Yes, Peter was her boyfriend. However, boyfriend felt like such a superficial term to her. Peter was more than that. Peter was her confidant, her number one supporter, her - dare she say - everything. That was a scary thought, she shuddered gripping Peter’s pinky tighter.

“Don’t worry,” Peter’s voice echoed in her ear snapping her out of her thoughts. Class was dismissed; everyone around them were stuffing their books in their bags or sprinting out the door to their next class.

MJ let go of Peter’s pinky pushing out of her chair. She grabbed her bag from the floor carefully putting her stuff away.

“I’m not worried about you,” she whispered turning to look at Peter having put the last of her belongings in her bag. She looked at him sincerely trying to give him a small smile, but she found it hard as a brunette approached Peter from behind.

She tapped his shoulder with a coy smile never once looking at MJ, who clearly held an inch or two over Peter. Clenching her jaw she watched Peter turn with confusion.

“Hey Pete,” she beamed revealing her pearly whites. “Guess we’re partners.” MJ could see half of her face. Part of her lip was tucked under her teeth as she tried giving him a set of innocent eyes. MJ could read right through her.

But Peter, sweet sweet Peter, was easier to fool.

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞-𝐚𝐧𝐝-𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

“Got the goods,” Peter exclaimed walking into the communal kitchen with a box of pasta and a reusable bag filled with, what MJ assumed, stuff for the sauce.

MJ smiled getting up from the table where she was typing away on her laptop. Peter started pulling out the items from the bag as MJ planted an innocent kiss on his cheek. Her hand rested on his back for a few seconds watching him concentrate. She could imagine what he was currently thinking: where to start first.

“I forgot the cheese,” Peter furrowed his brows innocently looking at MJ.

“I think I have some,” MJ reassured scurrying from the kitchen and down the hall to her room. She opened her mini-fridge spotting the cheese before heading back to the kitchen.

MJ opened the kitchen door. Peter, who’d been patiently waiting for her to return, jumped from behind the door causing MJ to give a small yelp as she clutched her chest; the cheese still tight in her hand.

“Parker!” MJ squealed hitting him playfully on his arm. Peter’s contagious laugh filled the small kitchen which was now warm as the pasta boiled in the pot. MJ tried regaining her composure, but Peter wrapped his arms around her cradling her like a baby as he sprinkled kisses all around her face.

It was moments like these that MJ wished she could solidify on paper like she did with her drawings so she could come back to them and relive them all over again.

Peter reached for MJ’s hand as the two of them sat across from each other eating the last of their pasta. MJ, used to Peter’s impulsive touches which were predominantly due to his love language, concentrated on her pasta giving him a reassuring squeeze.

Peter’s phone flashed, a faint ping traveled between the too, and MJ couldn’t help but look at the phone resting near Peter’s plate. Her heart instantly sunk and her hand fell limp against Peter’s when she saw it was from the brunette in their class.

MJ wasn’t the type to make a big deal of things. So she simply ignored it letting go of Peter’s hand watching her empty plate.

“Are you done?” She asked clearing her throat. Peter nodded and she grabbed both their plates walking to the small sink near the stove. When she’d turned on the faucet, she heard Peter’s phone ping again. She tried hard not to glance at him from the corner of her eye, but she’d finished the dishes and his phone had pinged for the third time.

“What does she want?” MJ asked trying not to sound annoyed suddenly turning to Peter after turning off the faucet. Peter cleared his throat shifting in his chair, he quickly placed the phone face down turning it off.

“Nothing,” he shook his head giving her a faint smile.

A smile that MJ was not buying.

𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

MJ’s hair flowed with the wind as Peter held her tight with one arm. His other hand shot webs as their bodies flung through the air. MJ’s face was buried in Peter’s neck as she held on for dear life. It’d taken a while, but they’d finally reached a point where she trusted him enough to let him take her on random late night dates swinging from buildings as if he were Tarzan.

They landed on their feet, MJ still holding on tight before whispering in his ear, “never again.” She joked referring to the first time he’d ever taken her on one of these trips.

Peter chuckled still holding her with one arm as she slowly unglued herself from him. He looked out at the view, the twinkling buildings in contrast with the clouded sky.

"I love you,” Peter croaked looking at MJ who was looking at the shimmering buildings. Her nonchalant face slowly revealed a smile as she glanced at him. Her eyes twinkling, reflecting a sheen from the bright moon.

"I love you,” MJ whispered feeling Peter’s arm wrap around her again. The endless thoughts of insecurity crept out of her body as she allowed herself to sink into Peter.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞

“Come here,” Peter cooed extending his arms so MJ could crawl into them. She did so gladly snuggling into his body. She turned slightly so he was still holding her close, but her back was against his chest. Her feet tucked between his legs as she gripped his arms gently.

She glanced around his room. They were so comfortable with each other. A few of her stuff were neatly resting on a corner of his desk, never mind the multiple drawings she’d deemed a waste, but he’d snuck them from her recycling bin when she wasn’t looking and hung them on his wall.

Feeling at peace, she allowed herself to drift to sleep. A sleepy Peter planted a kiss on the back of her head.

𝐓𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝

“It’ll be fun,” Peter cooed holding MJ’s hand tighter as they approached the noisy bar. MJ was not one to go out in large crowds. Mainly because she was socially awkward; add on top drunk people she didn’t know how to interact with, it just made her anxiety peak.

MJ groaned but smiled as Peter kissed her hand.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” MJ spoke over the noise trying to get Peter’s attention who was currently trying to get the attention of the bartender. He nodded smiling signaling he’d heard her and MJ ventured into the crowd to get to the bathroom.

Of course they don’t have hand towels, MJ thought as she begrudgingly wiped her hands on her black jeans. She scanned the crowd trying to spot if Peter was still at the bar as she got closer.

But her heart quickly sunk when she saw Peter, who was not alone. His fingers were wrapped around a beer bottle as he squinted his brows with a faint smile on his lips. MJ’s blood boiled as she saw the small girl from class near him, too close to him, laughing it up as if Peter was the funniest person on Earth.

MJ’s hands formed into fists and though she wanted to stomp over there and give her a piece of her mind, she stopped. Her heart felt like it had stopped as well. She’d forgotten how to breath as she saw the girl get on her tip toes and brush her lips against Peter’s cheek near the corner of his lips. And he didn’t push her away.

MJ felt her chest tighten, she pushed through the crowd finding the exit not bothering to look back or let Peter know that she’d left. She couldn’t think straight; she could only see red. She was surprised she even made it back to her dorm room.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈'𝐦 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

The hot tears streamed down her face as she laid in bed still wearing what she’d stepped into the club with. She felt lightheaded and this was definitely the hardest she’d cried in months, maybe even years.

Her phone rang loudly causing her heart to beat louder. It was Peter.

She let it ring before seeing that she had multiple texts from him. All of them asking where she’d gone. If she was okay.

She wasn’t.

Her phone rang once again; this time, she scurried out of bed searching for the biggest bag in her closet. She stuffed it with whatever she could. She couldn’t be here. She needed to leave. She needed to clear her mind and remove herself from the situation.

𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐲

Peter knocked on MJ’s door intensely hoping she was in her room. Hoping she’d answer the door after the next knock. He pressed his head against the wooden door trying to listen; it was silent. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he looked at his screen. Nothing. No texts, no missed calls.

Opening his messages, he typed quickly sending her yet another text.

I’m getting worried. Where are you?

He sighed when she didn’t answer. Dragging his feet, he made his way to his room. It felt like he’d been hit with a ton of bricks, worse even (and he’d been struck by a whole train before). His chest felt weird. His body shook as he worried about MJ not knowing where she was or if she was okay.

He let his body flop on his bed reaching for his phone. With little hope, he clicked on her name. He heard the phone ring a couple times before the silence that surrounded her filled his phone.

“MJ! Are you okay? Where the hell are you?” Peter sat up straight. He was relieved even if she wasn’t saying anything. At least she’d picked up the phone.

“I’m home,” her voiced cracked slightly and Peter could hear her body shift; her sheets rustling as her body moved. The phone was pressed under her cheek on her pillow. Her voice was muffled as she spoke once again.

“I knew this was too good to be true,” she muttered sniffling. Peter felt his heart break into a million little pieces imaging how red her eyes must have been at this very second. Her nose stuffy as she tried to control the rush of tears coming back up.

“Why are you saying that?” Peter’s voice cracked as well on the verge of his own set of tears. His chest felt heavy listening to MJ sniffle knowing he was the reason. Knowing he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Let’s face it Peter-“ she shuffled again sitting up on the bed. “-nobody thought we were going to make it past high school and they were right. I mean I was holding on to this idea of us and it’s very clear you don’t belong with me,” she finally sobbed letting go. Peter felt his heart slowly shattering as each word reached his ear. Before long, he heard the call end and he was left with her words floating around his room.

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭-𝐢𝐟𝐬

“Peter, what are you doing here?” Aunt May asked standing up from the couch to see her nephew, a duffel bag on his shoulder as he shut the door. “Classes?” she asked raising a brow with confusion while flailing her arms for added effect.

“Just thought I’d come home earlier,” he muttered heading to his room.

“Hold on, young man. What about finals?” Aunt May pried rushing after him crossing her arms as he turned to look at her. He shrugged not really up for the conversation.

“Online. Projects I already turned in,” he said as a matter of fact.

“What about Michelle?” Aunt May’s voice softened and Peter knew she knew something. Averting her gaze, Peter bit his lip clutching the duffel bag tighter. “Her parents called. She came home early too, they asked if you’d come with-” Aunt May watched the way Peter’s shoulders slumped, the bag falling to the ground as his head lowered.

“What’s wrong, honey?” she asked as she heard the faint sound of a sniffle. Her arms were around Peter in seconds trying to comfort him.

“We had a fight. She’s not talking to me,” Peter’s voice cracked as he let Aunt May hug him. Her hand was gently cradling his head as he let himself fall on to her.

𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐈'𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞

After takeout and a movie, what Aunt May deemed a distraction, Peter was laying in bed. His room was smaller, much smaller than his dorm room, but it was much cozier.

Pieces of MJ were scattered throughout the room. Her sketchbook was on his desk. One of many. Tattoo sketches she’d made for him of Spider-Man were taped to his wall.

He’d brought it up randomly. The idea of getting a tattoo and he’d timidly asked MJ if she’d draw something for him. He never got around to choosing the final one, but he’d enjoyed them all so much he’d taped them on his wall.

He glanced down at his phone, her face popped up on his screen. His wallpaper was of her at a bookstore, a candid shot he’d taken.

Just a few streets down MJ had her face buried in her pillow. She’d spent most of her time in bed the past days. Only getting up to shower and eat.

MJ looked at her desk. A stack of books Peter had bought for her were silently resting there. Polaroids of Peter framed her mirror and no matter how much she tried running away, his face was always on her mind.

Sighing, she glanced at her phone. The picture of her and Peter made her smile slightly.

𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞

He knew he should be giving her time. He knew she’d come around eventually and talk things through, but it’d been days and he couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to hear her voice, to see her face, to feel her skin.

Sneaking out of his window, he shut it quietly before swinging towards MJ’s apartment. The light to her room was on. He was all too familiar with it. Peter was couching in the building across, the sheer curtains of her room revealed she wasn’t there. His shoulders slumped, but he quickly spotted her coming into the room.

Her hair was damp, and his heart thumped when he saw she was wearing his Midtown sweatshirt. There was a warmth in his chest, one only she ensued. He saw her pull her hair back behind her shoulders as she sat on her bed.

Reaching to her night stand, she pulled a book he’d brought for no particular reason expect that he liked spoiling her with books.

She was still thinking of him. That much he knew.

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞

It’d been almost an hour of him watching her. She was still sitting on her bed, but she’d made herself comfortable. Her back was leaning on her headboard and her legs were tucked closer to her.

He’d been building up the courage to swing towards her window and sort everything out, but whenever he wanted to she’d either shift in bed or flip a page in the book and it just made him realize his plan wasn’t as solid. Heck, he didn’t even have a plan to begin with.

Taking a deep breath, he gave himself a pep talk. He shot a web near the ledge of her window and swung himself towards the building. Using his feet to propel himself upward, he climbed up the building until he could see her clearly. Only half his face peeked through the window.

There was a soft knock on her window. Startled, MJ looked towards the noise as Peter’s full face came into view. He waved softly, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. His eyes were soft and her heart instantly remembered how much she missed him.

He mouthed something and MJ furrowed her brows. If he was saying something, she couldn’t hear it through her window. He repeated himself, this time pointing at the window. He wanted to come in.

Making her way towards the window, MJ pushed it up with force. It was heavy and old and it was usually unlocked for Peter to come in when he wished, but this time it’d been locked.

“MJ,” Peter huffed straightening his body, finally inside her room. The overwhelming smell of her embraced him. “I missed you,” he said. His voice cracked as he rubbed his hands together. He hadn’t realized how cold he’d been until the warmth of her room engulfed him.

MJ looked at him blankly. She wanted more than anything to tell him she missed him too. To jump into his arms, but she was hesitant. The face of the snarky brunette appeared in her head like a bad dream.

“Whatever you think you saw with Anna, it’s not like that. She was drunk and I told her I was waiting for you. I know you think we won’t work out in the long run. I’m sorry for not putting an end to it before-” he was rambling moving closer to her.

She wasn’t moving away.

“You’re too innocent, Peter. You see the good in everyone,” MJ uncrossed her arm placing a hand on Peter’s cheek. The feeling of his skin under hers was one she’d missed.

Peter chuckled as he blinked away the tears that were forming. MJ’s own eyes were watering as her fingers spread across his cheek, the tips of her fingers brushing along his hair.

"I don’t want to lose you,” Peter mumbled. MJ wrapped her arms around Peter. The two of them falling into each other like two pieces of a puzzle. Halves of a whole. Peter placed a kiss on her head before holding her face in his hands kissing every part of her face until his lips connected with hers.

Peter knew her like nobody else did.

Their lives were interwoven.

#spideychelle #spideychelle fic #spideychelle angst #spideychelle fluff #peter parker x michelle #peter parker x michelle jones #peter parker x mj #folklore #cardigan #spideychelle cardigan

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no-whump-on-main · 4 years

Text

Untitled (for now) Vampire Whump

Soooo I binge read @whumping-every-day ‘s Ash and Callum series this morning (It’s INCREDIBLE, by the way, go read it now) and got mega inspired to write some vamp whump of my own, though with very different dynamics than in the Ash and Callum series. Also partially inspired by @whumped-cream ‘s prompt about a similar scenario :) (sorry for the tags y’all I just wanna properly credit)

ANYWAYS HERE WE GO PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK IT MAKES MY HEART SING

TW/CWs: some mild imagined gore/body horror, pet whump, long term captivity, dehumanization, vampire whumper/human whumpee, possible minor whump? Whumpee is described as young but her actual age is not known.

There is a girl in the basement of the old wooden mansion down Buist street.

The residence teeters on the outskirts of the miniscule town it was built in many decades ago, resting so far away from the rest of town that it is visited by no one but impish teenagers who dare each other to get close enough to pound their aching fists on the heavy black door, then turn and sprint back, completely unknowing of the horrors inside.

Younger children make up songs about the foul creature rumored to own the estate, singing hymns in high-pitched voices to each other about the great evil. Rumor had it that the evil man inside lurked among them, perfectly blended into their society. He worked with them, prayed with them, lodged with them, and was, in every way, a part of them.

The adults of the village grew out of believing the rumors about a monster who lurked among them as they aged. They moved on, found occupations, married, and had children of their own, who became the next generation to preach the tale of the vampire down Buist street, of the vile creature who cruelly drained human bodies for his own pleasure, then flew off into the night and locked himself in his lavish home until the desire to feed struck him again.

That was where all the generations of townspeople had gotten him wrong. No, he did not feed off of strangers in the nighttime only to flee and leave his victims dead and drained.

He preferred living, breathing sources of fresh blood. The basement of his wooded home contained a cell, dedicated to the upkeep of his servants. That was what he called them; the captives he took were but servants to him, warm, beings to feed him whenever he so desired. He never kept more than one at a time, and had never had a servant last much longer than one or two cycles of the full moon before their weak, fleshy bodies gave in to exsanguination. Oh, what pitiful things. The man who kept the servants (if one could even call him a man anymore, given that he’d sacrificed his humanity as he became nothing but a sadistic bringer of suffering so very long ago) almost pitied them. Not for the pain that he inflicted, but for the fact that they had to exist in such useless vessels. The only true purpose of a human body was to serve something stronger. It was an honor for a being so useless to find purpose by becoming a servant to someone greater.

The vampire did not often make exceptions to his standards of keeping his servants. He had standards for a reason, after all. This meant that what he had now was a rare, beautiful thing.

He had kept the girl in the basement through the passing of nearly two winters. With proper yet minimal care and caution to never feed too much in one sitting, he had managed to preserve her frail body and keep her blood pure, warm, and plentiful for nearly two years. Now, why he’d done this was still a mystery to himself. He could’ve gone through more than twenty servants by now, tasted the different unique notes of their blood, watched them all submit in front of his eyes, and yet, even with the knowledge of what he could’ve had, he was still more than content with his little pet. He had never found himself so infatuated with a useless human being before that fateful day nearly two years ago when he had spied the traveling merchant girl with nothing but a pack, a rack of spices, a pouch for coins, and a mare tied to a post in the grass nearby. There was something about the girl’s natural, unspoken charm that instantly drew him into obsession with her that day.

He’d struck up a conversation with the girl and bought out nearly half of her wares, despite having no use for the human pleasure of assorted foreign spices. After a long exchange, it was all too easy to lure her back to his estate with the promise of a meal and a bed for the night; after all, she was a weary young thing who did not yet know the danger of following a strange man home, no matter how kind his appearance was. He doubted she’d been travelling along dirt roads any longer than a week.

The girl had put up a strong fight at first. She was fiery, and the vampire admired that. Her fighting spirit proved to him just what a perfect human she was. She was not so weak like the others. For weeks, every time he came to feed on her blood she fought like a wild animal, biting and scratching and keening up until the very moment his fangs slid into her neck, forcing her into being still and silent as to avoid tearing her carotid artery.

That initial fight, the aching rage deep in her very soul made her so much more gorgeous to see battered, muzzled, and completely submissive in the bounds of a metal cage built with the intention of containing a feral dog, not a broken human girl.

It took months, but the vampire had made her the perfect servant. The perfect little toy. And after so much work, he was never going to let her perish in the chilled waste of his basement underground.

He called her Annalise. She did not know why. That wasn’t her name. But that foreign name, the one that did not belong to her, became so much easier to accept as her own as she was slowly beaten into perfect submission over many months, so fiercely that she could no longer recall what her name had been before. Or who her family had been, or what she had done to support them. She did not recall her favorite things, or what she liked to eat.

She knew only her cell and Master. She knew that she was Annalise and she was perfectly behaved for Master. Every waking moment of her life was dedicated to him. Serving him. She belonged to him. Startlingly, she did not remember a time before the basement. There was only Master. He was all she knew.

The cell she was kept in was cold and dark. She had not once felt the warm mercy of sunlight on her skin in a longer span of time than she could remember. She had not even been granted the gentle light and warmth of a fire. There were no windows in the basement; the only light she ever saw came from an oil lamp Master brought with him when he came to eat, then took away when he returned to his unknown abyss of a home upstairs. The commodity of warmth was similarly limited. Master brought her a thin linen blanket as a reward when he was pleased with her, but she could never quite decipher what exactly pleased him. His kindness, to her, seemed to come in random bursts of his own volition, but they were never underappreciated. Annalise was always so very grateful for the shreds of mercy he showed her, cowering at his feet like she was praying to her god every time he showed her even the simplest kindness.

Sometimes it would be a hot, filling meal, in stark contrast to the bowl of cold porridge and glass of water she was normally brought every morning. Other times it was warmth; the blanket, her favorite source, but also sometimes fresh changes of clothes, nightgowns that were made of thicker material than the usual thin cotton, and even jackets to layer over her usual clothing. Rewards did not come often, and never lasted long, but they were always blissful. She cherished what she was given until the very moment Master instructed her to give it back.

Despite this, her favorite reward of all was not a physical item. Her favorite reward came when she heard master’s footsteps tap tap tap down the concrete basement stairs, in the particularly heavy, tired-sounding manner that she knew meant he was going to feed. It came when he opened the creaking metal door to her cell, swiftly allowed himself in, but did not instruct her to crawl to him, kneel, and bare her pretty neck.

It was when he would hold her as he ate. It was a rare occurrence, but Annalise lived for it. He would scoop her into his long arms and cradle her like a child, sometimes whispering to her sweetly before gently brushing her matted hair over her shoulder, then tilting her neck and piercing her carotid. Feeling his fangs sliding into the pale, tender skin of her neck hurt every time, but when she was being held so gently, it was almost possible to forget the pain. To just focus on Master, and on him and his kindness only. The pain was so much more bearable when she was cradled in loving arms rather than kneeling on the stone floor, her knees in agony as emaciation had left the bones so very close to the surface of her skin, meaning they were constantly grinding into the ground.

His feeding never took long, only a few minutes. And typically, he would immediately leave, but when he held her, he’d always linger after finishing, tenderly wiping the excess blood away from the new puncture wound in her neck that would soon begin to scar before beginning to rock her, singing sweetly in a language she did not recognize until she fell asleep. That’s how she knew that he loved her. He would not be so kind if he didn’t.

Most of her days simply consisted of sleep, as there was very little else to do but rest, and she was often too exhausted to do anything else. Constant shivering took a very heavy toll on her muscles, and even when she was granted warmth from Master, her shaking never really did stop. Her body had just simply never gotten used to the biting cold of the basement. At least Master never seemed to mind. He had never instructed her to stop shaking, nor had he ever seemed bothered by the cold himself when he came downstairs.

The month now was January. For the girl, this meant spring would come soon, and the basement would be just ever so slightly warmer, something she was infinitely grateful for. She craved warmth more than anything. For the vampire, though, January meant something much more special.

It meant that it was nearly the second anniversary of the day he had brought his special servant home. And because this girl was so very special to him, she deserved a very special celebration.

The vampire thought it was high time his Annalise was introduced to his friends. He had a bustling social life, and yet, not one of his peers had ever met the girl. It wasn’t terribly unusual for vampires not to meet each others’ servants, given their typically short lifetimes, and the fact that vampires did not meddle with anyone else’s pet unless they were invited to, in which case, they could easily become a pack of cruel, wild hyenas. The vampire knew of this cruelty, which was part of the reason he had never told a soul about the girl, but now, after so much time, and with how perfectly behaved she was, he was sure a few select friends could never spoil a thing about his beloved servant. He was overjoyed, ecstatic, even, to finally be showing her off. Not only would he be able to show her around the upstairs, he could use the opportunity to test her obedience, see just how far her devotion went.

In a pattern now familiar to Annalise, he padded down the stairs to announce to her his spectacular plans. He had decided not to inform her until the day of, not wanting to get the pet riled up, but now, it was time. In mere hours, his friends would arrive to see the girl he had promised them all to be so breathtaking.

And he had to get her ready.

#whump #whumper #creepy whumper #whumpee #vampire #vampire whump #vampire whumper #whump fic #hurt no comf #uhhh chicken nugget #whump writing #my writing

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beetlebitchywitch · 4 years

Note

Just fuck me up, Kat

So ok, she gave me an actual longer request via Discord, but enjoy some quality time with Gio 😏

Summary: Gio asks you to model for him. That’s it, that’s the post.

(NSFW WARNING ⚠️)

It was a gorgeous Spring morning the day that Scarafaggio finally tracked you down within the estate, bedecked handsomely in a red velvet robe with a mug of tea clasped gently in one hand.

“Do you have a moment, bambi?” he asked, his voice still gruff from sleep. You grinned softly at him from your place by the day window and nodded, gazing out over the ample gardens where Bajo was already hard at work tending to his flowers. You enjoyed your little morning routine- each day, you’d wake up in a different bed, roll out of the arms of one of the men you adored more than life itself, and pad silently to the kitchen, where you’d pour yourself a mug of already brewed coffee (thank God that Bee liked to wake up so early) and curl up in the window seat of the breakfast nook, providing you the perfect view of the estate grounds dotted with the now-blooming flowers that Bajo worked so hard to cultivate. It was a beautiful sight, especially in the midmorning sun, but it seemed even better now that Gio seemed to be joining you. He slid onto the seat next to you, unable to stop himself from pressing an adoring kiss to your cheek.

“It would seem you have the day to yourself, hmm?” he asked, watching along with you as Bajo tenderly pruned his most prized rose bush, roses he bred to bloom into the most gorgeous royal purple you’d ever seen. He even named them after you, the hopeless romantic.

“I do,” you replied, sipping gratefully at your coffee. “The others are so busy, even though it’s Saturday. You think century-old demons would’ve learned how to manage their time by now.” You sent him a playful wink, which received a gruff chuckle in return. “Why? Did you have something in mind?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” he replied, though a tad more seriously than expected, which piqued your interest. What could he possibly have planned that required that kind of tone? He shifted to face you more directly, so you turned your attention away from Bajo and his roses and focused it on him. “I’ve been meaning to take advantage of the lovely early afternoon light that hits the smoking room for a bit of photography, and I wondered if you might be interested in modeling for me.”

Well, that seems easy enough, you thought, taking another long sip of your coffee as you took him in over the rim of the mug. It was very unlike Gio to seem so...unsure of himself.

“Of course, marito,” you said, hoping the pet name would reassure him. “Since when is modeling such a tall order?”

He cleared his throat nervously, running his fingers through his already slicked back hair.

“Well...the light would look gorgeous on your skin, bambi,” he explained, quirking an eyebrow questioningly. “I wondered if you might be willing to...reveal a bit more of it?”

Ah. So that’s why he seemed so off. You couldn’t help but smirk, your gaze turning mischievous as you set your coffee aside, taking his hand in yours and rubbing the pad of your thumb across the back of it.

“Scarafaggio,” you began, your voice hushed with faux offense. “Are you asking me to pose nude? The scandal!” He smacked affrontedly at your shoulder, pulling a delighted laugh from your lips. “Honestly, darling, you’d think you were asking me to help you kill a man.”

“Well, it can be a great deal to ask of someone!” he retorted, and you suspected that he’d be blushing if he were capable of it. “How easy would it be for you to ask me to pose nude?”

“I pegged you last night, my love,” you replied slyly, throwing a wink in for good measure. “You’ll find that my shyness when it comes to you has markedly declined since when we first met.”

Oh, now you know he’d be blushing. You grinned excitedly as he rubbed his hand across the back of his neck with embarrassment flitting across his face before being replaced with faux stoicism.

“You have one hour to prepare yourself for me,” he said, obviously trying not to let your mischievous glee get to him. “Wear that lingerie set I like, yes? The pink one.”

And with that, he slid off the window seat, retreating back down the hall and leaving nothing but the amusing sound of grumpy Italian muttering in his wake. Never a dull day with Gio around, it seemed. You quickly downed the rest of your rapidly cooling coffee before tossing the mug in the dishwasher and retreating back to your room. You only had an hour to get ready, after all.

When the time came, you walked confidently to the smoking room, wrapped luxuriously in a long silk robe to hide your nearly nude body from prying eyes. With your hair pulled back in a loose braid and your makeup applied flawlessly, you simply couldn’t help but feel as sublime as you knew Gio’s camera would make you look. You rapped gently on the large wooden door before pressing inside, shocked by how bright the room could get with the heavy velvet curtains pulled back to let the sunlight in. He was right, the lighting was simply spectacular with the sun where it was in the sky, especially in the corner where the chaise lounge, now expertly framed to be photographed, laid. Gio’s head turned to you, a proud smile playing on his lips as he took you in. He held his hands out to you and you rushed to him, placing yours in his as he spun you, watching the robe flutter out gorgeously behind you.

“My darling, you have outdone yourself,” he praised, clearly delighted by your beauty even with the robe still on. He let one hand come up to cradle your cheek, his eyes trained adoringly on your face. “Never in my life have I been blessed with such a spectacular model. Come, come…” He ushered you into frame, your skin already starting to warm under the light of the sun as he pushed at your shoulders until you sank, sprawling out on the chaise lounge. He was a flurry of hands as he positioned you for the first shot, with one leg up on the lounge and the other stretched the floor, your robe spilling over the edge of the seat like a curtain of inky blackness. In the light of the early afternoon sun, you were simply stunning, and Gio couldn’t help but feel pride well up in his chest at the sight of you framed so beautifully in his viewfinder, your body a masterpiece he just happened to be lucky enough to depict. A few more photos of you in the robe and he was satisfied- while he adored the sight of you dripping in fine Italian silk, he had to admit, no mere fabric could ever compare to your bare skin, no matter how luxurious its craftsmanship.

“Stand up for me, piccola,” Gio commanded softly. You obeyed, gazing out the window towards the garden again as he adjusted the camera’s height, saddened by Bajo’s absence from the colorful scene, his work in the garden likely finished for the day. You truly did enjoy watching him work, but you couldn’t let yourself get distracted from the task at hand. Once the camera was at the correct height, Gio turned his attention back to you, anticipation burning like hot coals in his eyes. “I want you to untie the robe for me, my dear. Slowly now, there you go…”

He encouraged you softly, gently, as your fingers gingerly gripped the sash holding the robe together. He murmured sweetly in Italian as you slowly, slowly undid the knot, shivering at the sound of the shutter clicking with every photo he took. Your fingers slid just barely along your skin as you let the robe fall open, revealing the baby pink lingerie set Gio adored so much, the fine lace cradling your breasts gorgeously and framing the swell of your ass more perfectly than any other set you owned. So much of your body was still hidden, and yet you suddenly felt more exposed than ever, Gio’s eyes wide and adoring as he watched you intently.

“That’s it, there’s a good girl,” he encouraged softly, his whisper quiet voice still managing to bounce through the rest of the room. “Now, I want you to slowly, very slowly, start to slide it off. Let it slide just off your shoulders, let your fingers only barely kiss your skin. You’re doing wonderfully, così splendida, la mia ragazza perfetta…”

You couldn’t help but obey, your hands almost moving on their own just from the sound of his velvety voice caressing your ear. You felt nearly enveloped by the sweet crooning of Italian as the robe slid from your shoulders, the barely-there caress of your fingers along with Gio’s gentle murmurs raising goosebumps across your newly exposed skin, despite the warmth of the sunlight now kissing your shoulders. God… You could feel the pleasant weight of Gio’s attention, could almost imagine the way his eyes trailed over each tantalizing inch of skin you revealed as he encouraged you in words you didn’t understand, didn’t need to understand. With every second, the robe dropped lower and lower, held up only by your forearms as it pooled beautifully around your hips, exposing your breasts fully to the focus of the camera. Oh God, you could picture it, your body glowing in a halo of radiant sunlight, the moment in time captured forever, and it made you shiver as the silk continued to slip off of your body. Your mind wandered, imagining all the ways Gio would pose you, reveal you, expose you...you fell so deep into the fantasy that you didn’t even hear the door when it opened.

“Scarafaggio, mi amigo, you would not believe the luck I am having,” Bajo exclaimed, striding seemingly unknowingly into the room, a large bouquet of assorted blooms in his hand. “Take a look at these newest blossoms, see how gorgeous they...h-how gorgeous they...oh…” His gaze had finally fallen on you, fully enraptured as the robe finally slipped off your body and onto the floor, a puddle of black silk pooled at your feet. You felt the urge to cover up as his hungry eyes dragged up your body, devouring every inch of you with his gaze, but you held firm despite the blush creeping up your neck to stain your cheeks.

“She is sublime, is she not, Escarabajo?” Gio crooned, taking a moment to step away from the camera and let his eyes travel their own journey across your exposed body. You shied under their dual gazes, feeling yourself shamefully growing wet under their attention.

“Indeed,” Bajo sighed, not daring to look away as he set his freshly cut flowers on the nearest armchair. “My flowers cannot compare to you at this moment, gatita. To what occasion do I owe the honor of getting to see this lovely display?” Ah, there it was, his signature ferality, his words drawled out through a hungry grin as he began to circle you, his footsteps landing heavy on the hardwood floor.

“I’ve asked her to model for me, mio amico,” Gio explained. Suddenly, he perked up, as if a lightbulb had just gone on above his head. In an instant, he wore a matching grin to Bajo’s, sending a shiver down your spine as they both looked you over the way hungry sharks look at their next meal. “Perhaps you’d like to be of assistance?”

Oh. Bajo stopped just behind you, and you froze as you could feel his breath dancing over your shoulder. It was silent, his presence so obvious despite not a single part of him touching you as you waited, waited for his answer. You trembled slightly, your breath coming out in soft pants, when a single finger traced its way down your spine, Christ, just barely grazing your skin, and he chuckled as you were wracked by a full body shiver.

“It would be my pleasure,” he murmured, suddenly so close to your ear and you were gasping, fighting the urge to fall back into his arms. Gio clapped his hands together excitedly, breaking you from your reverie.

“Excellent!” he exclaimed, quickly reaching into his pocket and pulling out...oh. “I suppose you wouldn’t mind putting this on her for me, then?”

Oh God.

In his hand laid a baby pink collar, clearly crafted from fine leather with a small silver heart dangling from the center.

Oh God.

From here, you could tell it was engraved, and you bit your lip around a tiny whimper- you suspected it was your name. You didn’t need to see Bajo’s face to know that he was grinning like a madman.

“‘Not minding’ is an understatement,” he chuckled striding over to take the collar from Gio’s hand before turning to you, a feral glint in his eye. “Well, querida, you heard the man. Kneel.”

In an instant, your knees gave out, your body sinking to the floor with a painful sounding crack. You didn’t care. You couldn’t care, because Bajo was moving to stand behind you, Gio already poised and ready at the camera. You gasped as he ran his hand down your braid, a briefly comforting touch that preceded him slowly positioning the collar around your neck, the edges of his fingers tantalizingly grazing your sensitive skin as he fastened it, while all the while Gio was snapping photo after photo. When he pulled his hands away and the collar remained, you turned your head back and forth, testing out the feeling of the firmness around your neck. You could hear Gio’s gentle sigh from across the room and lifted your gaze to see him watching you adoringly.

“You look...marvelous, piccola,” he murmured, snapping another photo of your ever-present blush. “The collar suits you. After all, it should- I am the one who made it.”

...That. Something about that did things to you. This wasn’t just a collar, it was his collar. He created it, just for you, to have you, to own you. You couldn’t help but whimper at the thought, your mind feeling like it was slowly filling up with wool as the weight of their dominance fully settled over you. You weren’t necessarily expecting this, but far be it from you to complain. You heard Bajo chuckle faintly, his hand landing comfortingly on your shoulder.

“You like that, do you, querida?” he asked, letting his thumb stroke gently over your skin. You nodded, remaining silent and fighting not to hang your head you slid comfortably into your submission. “Such a good girl. What will you have her do next, Scarafaggio?”

“Well, I’ll need her standing,” Gio commented, and in an instant you felt two pairs of hands under your arms, lifting you back onto your feet. You await his direction, fully ready to do whatever he asks of you. “Escarabajo...undo her braid for me, won’t you?”

You gasped, watching as Gio positioned himself behind the camera again. You fought the urge to let your head loll backwards onto Bajo’s shoulder as he stood closer to you, his chest nearly pressed up against the smooth expanse of your back. He smirked, letting his fingers drag from your hips all the way up to your neck, chuckling softly as you shivered from the gentle touch. He got to work, slowly undoing your braid and letting your tresses fall back to your shoulders. Your eyes slid shut at the feeling of his fingers every so often grazing the nape of your neck- he undid your hair as if he were engaging in an act of worship, treating each strand as if it were a sacred artifact to be handled with care. Each time his fingers grazed your skin, you gasped, bucking up onto your tiptoes for a moment as the sensation shot through you like electricity. Your entire body was pulled taut, each little touch feeling like too much and not enough all at once. You longed for rough gropes, pawing hands, and biting lips, but what you got was the barest of touches to your skin as the last of your hair fell from the braid, cascading down your back as Bajo began to press reverent little kisses to your shoulder. You shuddered listening to the click of Gio’s camera capturing the intimate moment with Bajo’s arms wrapped around you, his hands splayed out across your stomach as his kisses grew more insistent.

“Calm yourself, mio amico,” Gio chuckled, snapping yet another photo. “I haven’t even told you to remove her bra yet.”

“Well, I believe you should remedy that, shouldn’t you?” Bajo retorted, his breath puffing out warmly against your sensitive skin. Gio chuckled, not hiding his obvious arousal from the situation as he let his eyes rove over your exposed skin. Not exposed enough, it seemed.

“Yes, I believe you’re right. Unhook her bra and slide it off, but nice and slow, understand? I want as many shots of this as I can manage,” he instructed. Bajo nodded and let his hands wander from your stomach to your back, gentle fingers playing with the delicate hooks holding your bra in place. Your back arched from the near tickle of a touch, your head finally lolling back to rest against his shoulder as he achingly slowly undid one, two, all three hooks. Suddenly, your bra was slowly sliding from your shoulders, revealing your hardened nipples to the cool air as the camera shutter clicked away, capturing the moment in all of its glory. You sighed softly as the bra hit the floor and Bajo slid it out of the way with his foot, unable to stop himself from letting his hands travel up your body to knead at your breasts. Gio chuckled at your sharp gasps, immediately starting to take several photos in succession of the scene before him. Bajo’s hands were large and cool, the metal of one of his rings tracing teasingly across a nipple- he reveled in your immediate shiver from the touch and let the tips of his fingers gently roll the hardened buds, pinching and squeezing them until you were panting before the camera’s unyielding lens, shot after shot being captured of your growing need. The very thought of the pictures it was taking, you at Bajo’s mercy with your nipples being teased, made your knees wobble where you stood, so you leaned back against him harder, not wanting the pleasure to overwhelm you to the point that you actually fell. He held you up gladly, the soft material of his shirt sliding over the smooth expanse of your back as he continued playing with you, teasing you as he leaned up to whisper in your ear.

“You like this, don’t you, gatita?” he murmured, his breath puffing hotly over your ear and sending a warm shiver down your spine. “You like knowing he’s capturing this moment and how desperate you look for us in that gorgeous little collar, hmm? Imagine each image, how perfectly it shows off your beauty as I take you apart. Would you like to see them when we’re done, querida? Would you like to see how delicious you look?”

Christ. You nodded, arching up into his touch as he practically tortured your nipples, each agonizing moment captured on film by Gio, who was clearly delighting in the little display, though certainly not enough to not want to change things up.

“Move her back to the chaise, if you would, mio amico,” Gio instructed, already readjusting the camera. Bajo obliged, thankfully guiding you into a seated position that took the stress off of your trembling legs. Gio looked you over contemplatively and you could see the gears turning in his mind as he thought up the next few photos he’d like to take. “...Spread her legs for me.”

You couldn’t even describe the ferality of Bajo’s grin as he happily obliged, grabbing each of your knees and spreading them apart until your legs were as wide as they could comfortably be, a thin scrap of pink lace the only thing keeping your pussy hidden from the camera. Still, Gio seemed unhappy- something was missing. He contemplated it for a moment, when suddenly, he perked up, his eyes darting over to the nearest armchair.

“You wouldn’t happen to be willing to spare a few flowers, would you? I believe our piccola principessa would look simply sublime with a few petals strewn across her body, si?”

“I couldn’t agree more, mi amigo,” Bajo replied, quickly striding over to his freshly cut flowers and picking out a few gorgeous peonies, their soft pink almost matching the color of your panties. He began plucking petals from the stem as he approached you, his feet falling heavy on the hardwood floor with every step. When he reached you, he had a full handful of delicate pink petals.

“Lay back now, mariposa,” he instructed softly, notedly gently despite the hunger in his eyes. You obliged, leaning back on your elbows as he began sprinkling the peonies across your body, the baby pink petals laying delicately across your flushed skin. One even landed directly on one of your nipples, a featherlight touch that still made you gasp. When he was finished, you were heavily adorned with the blossoms, feeling like Persephone herself before Gio’s camera as he once again began snapping photos of you. You could feel your thighs trembling from how wide they were spread, the petals strewn their shaking like leaves as the two men watched on in delight.

“I was right to have asked you to model for me,” Gio sighed reverently, zooming in for his next shot. “You are exquisite, bambi, the crown jewel of all our treasure, a goddess we are not fit to worship.” You whimpered at his poetic words, head lolling back as Gio took by far his favorite picture yet: you, your head thrown back with your lower lip worried between your teeth, body adorned gorgeously in flower petals and spread thighs trembling, just begging to be bitten. He suspected Bajo was thinking the same thing, given the way he licked his lips at the sight of you. “Bajo... I think she’s a bit overdressed. Don’t you?”

Oh God. Your head flew forward, watching wide eyed as the two dons shared similarly mischievous, hungry grins as Bajo nodded. Having gotten more than enough photos of you with the flower petals, Gio moved from behind the camera to approach you, letting his hand swipe away the delicate blossoms before crouching in front of you, eyeing you intently. Bajo quickly took his place behind the camera, ready for whatever was to follow. Without breaking eye contact for a second, he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and slowly, painfully slowly, pulled them down your legs, the camera shutter echoing throughout the room as Bajo photographed you each time your panties slid down so much as an inch. You’d gotten used to being without your bra, but without your panties, you suddenly felt incredibly exposed, each click of the camera shutter sending warm heat to pool in the pit of your stomach as it captured you in your most vulnerable state. When the panties were finally at your ankles, Gio pulled them off and tossed them aside. With a triumphant little smirk, he dragged both hands from your knees up to your inner thighs before spreading your legs once more, baring you to the camera’s invading eye and reveling in your immediate shudder. You fought the urge to close your legs again, especially with the way the two dons were staring you down so hungrily. It was all so much- you could practically feel their gazes on your skin, featherlight and gentle like their fingers, and it raised goosebumps across your entire body. The first click of the camera with your pussy so exposed to it was like a bolt of electricity traveling down your spine and you bucked up, unwittingly exposing yourself even more to their obvious delight.

“Such a pretty little thing,” Gio cooed, letting one finger tease along the edge of your pussy, tugging one lip aside for Bajo to photograph and pulling a choked off gasp from your lips. “Do you have any idea how difficult it's been to watch you, to photograph you, without being able to touch you? You look...you’re divine, la mia piccola dea.” His voice was hushed, awed, like he was daring to touch a precious masterpiece as he let one finger drag up between your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingertips and just barely tracing over your clit. His barely-there touch was just enough to tantalize you, your body pulled as taut as a bowstring and ready to snap. You needed him, his touch, his words, his adoration, you simply needed it all and you were willing to beg to get it.

“P-please,” you stammered, eyes scrunching shut as you dug your fingers into your own thigh. “Marito, please, I...it’s so much, I need you, please…”

“Well, how could we refuse when you beg so sweetly?”

Your eyes flew open. You knew that voice. You whipped your heads towards the door, and standing there were the rest of the dons, arms folded across their chests and matching grins plastered on their faces. It was Zhuk who took a few steps forward, eyeing you up and down with a predatory glint in his eyes. “Well now, tsarina, don’t stop on our account.”

“Ah, welcome,” Gio greeted them, rubbing one hand comfortingly along your inner thigh. “We were simply having a little photoshoot with our darling girl. Tell me, gentlemen...you wouldn’t want to join us, would you?”

Oh God.

“Well, we wouldn’t want to impose, but…”

Oh God.

“If you insist on it, mo chara…”

Fuck.

“She does look mighty pretty, doesn’t she…”

You watched the men approach you as if in slow motion, rolling up their sleeves and licking their lips as if preparing for a meal. This was it. You were done for.

...And what a lovely way to go.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #the conglomerate #gio #zhuk #bajo #cia #scarabee #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice/reader #beetlejuice nsft #nsft #beetlejuice fic #beetlejuice fanfic

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kumeko · 4 years

Photo

A/N: For the Furuba zine. This is uh, a little old, and I’m not sure how I feel about it anymore, but I love writing these three together. And I want them to all live together post-series, even if only for a little bit.

…

“Arrrrgghhhhh,” Uotani moaned, pillowing her head in her arms. She leaned on the low wooden table, shoving the textbooks aside to make room. Pressing her skin to the cool surface, she asked, “It’s summer, isn’t it? The time when we’re supposed to be at the beach or in a pool or outside?”

“I think so,” Tohru confirmed eagerly. Uotani could almost hear the cogs in her head churning, a mental checklist run through. Something like: it was sunny, check. It was hot, check. The skies were clear, check. Her head turned every which way, from the window to the door to Uotani to their clothes. Finished, she announced triumphantly with a fist pump, “It’s definitely summer!”

Hopefully somewhere on that list was a fan. Uotani was practically dying, her shirt drenched with sweat, because a certain, stupid red-head had broken the AC. As fun as it was watching Kyo and Yuki go at it, she wished it didn’t have any consequences for her. She was a bystander! Let her bystand in peace!

“I am feeling some heat,” Hanajima concurred demurely, her voice soft and low.

At that, Uotani peeked out her interlaced arms. Dressed in a pitch-black dress with a pitch black shawl, Hanajima looked like the embodiment of winter, rather than summer. No, to be frank, she looked like the embodiment of death. As usual. Her delicate fingernails, coated in black nail polish, gently nudged Tohru’s face to one side so she could finish her latest masterpiece. Half of Tohru’s hair was a series mini braids and Uotani wasn’t sure what the end result would be. Dryly, she asked, “Really?”

“Really,” Hanajima confirmed, not a trace of irony in her voice. Her left hand tugged the shawl slightly, baring her neck. She fanned it lightly. “Truly, it is summer.”

“I have no idea how you do that. Or can even say that with a straight face.” Not sure if she should be awed or worried, Uotani shrugged. It wasn’t worth debating over. She had long ago learned there was no point in questioning Hanajima and her ways. The supernatural was the easiest explanation and she stuck with it. Unfolding an arm, she rested her cheek on the other one as she eyed the table. Two textbooks were open, math diagrams taking up the majority of the pages. Several papers were scattered on the table. She gingerly picked up her work sheet, pinching it between two fingers as she stared at it disdainfully. A whole morning of homework and all she’d really got accomplished was a doodle of a bowl of ramen. God she was hungry. “We need to shred these. Or maybe we can have a dog eat it. There’s one here, right?”

“N-n-n-no,” Tohru shook her head so fast, it looked like it would spin off her head. “No dogs. Not a single one. No animals either. Nope. Not at all.”

“Burn them,” Hanajima suggested, her lips curving up into a slight smile.

“The animals?” Tohru yelped fearfully, her hands covering her cheeks. “Y-you can’t do that!”

“I thought there were no animals?” Uotani rolled her eyes. It was like this every time they came for a visit. She wasn’t exactly sure what secret the Sohmas’ were keeping, but it seemed to involve owning an illegal menagerie. Or maybe Tohru was; she was soft-hearted like that. Maybe she was hiding stray pets in her closet, feeding them when no one was looking.

“That’s right!” Tohru slammed her fist into her open hand, looking like she’d just realized something. “There are no animals. So you can’t burn them.”

“Not the cat, dog, or rat,” Hanajima smiled sweetly, ignoring Tohru’s quiet gasp at each word on the list. “Burn our homework.” Her eyes and voice remained at a deadpan, making it hard to tell how serious she was. “You can start with mine.”

Knowing laziness, she was probably dead serious. Horrified, Tohru tried to turn to Hanajima, stuttering, “F-f-fire?”

Hanajima sternly wrapped her hands around her face, turning her back to the front. “I’m not done,” she admonished, selecting the next strands to weave into a braid.

This did little to assuage Tohru’s concern and she stared at Uotani fearfully. “Uo-chan?”

“It sounds like a good idea.” Curious, Uotani picked up Hanajima’s sheet. Her name was written beautifully on the top, elegant strokes to make the kanji of her name. The rest of the sheet was left a pristine white, not a single pencil mark on a single question. Not even the easy ones, the ones that Uotani herself managed to scrounge up an answer for. “You didn’t even try.”

“It makes it easier to burn.” Hanajima smiled serenely. “And I didn’t waste a single pencil.”

“I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of.” Uotani sighed, glancing at her friend. How she made it into high school was a mystery. Did she study the precise minimal amount required? Use her waves to sense the right answer? Or something else entirely? Still, a fire sounded fun. “Maybe we can have smores later, use this to make a big bonfire.”

“We c-c-can’t burn it!” Flustered, Tohru waved her hands rapidly in front of her. Her eyes darted around the room in a panic, her face flushed red. “We have to do our homework! The teacher’ll be sad!”

Breaking into a laugh, Uotani dropped the paper. Sometimes it was too easy to tease Tohru. Cradling her chin her hands, she grinned mischievously at her friend. “Don’t worry, I promise to leave yours alone.”

“That’s good…” Tohru sighed with relief for a moment before realizing the implication. In a moment of desperation, she tumbled out of her seat, yanking her hair out of Hanajima’s hands. Crawling quickly to Uotani, she grabbed the paper out of her hand. “No, you can’t burn yours either!”

Uotani covered her mouth as she snorted. Maybe she was a little too mean. “Alright, alright, we won’t do that either.”

“Promise?” Tohru asked doubtfully, no longer trusting her.

Hands up, Uotani nodded her defeat. “Promise.”

Tohru’s eyes narrowed. Scrutinizing her friend for a long minute, she sank to her knees with a smile. “Phew. That’s good.”

As Tohru started organizing the papers, gathering them into one large pile, Hanajima got up. “I didn’t make a promise.”

The papers fell out of Tohru’s hands. Slack-jawed, she stared at her. “What?”

“But I won’t burn it as well.” Hanajima sat down next to Tohru, folding her legs neatly beneath her. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she added, “Not this time.”

“Oh. Good.” Worn out, Tohru’s shoulders slumped and she rested her head on Hanajima’s shoulders. She closed her eyes, leaning into Hanajima’s touch as she tenderly patted Tohru’s head. “I’ll help you.”

“…I think you missed an important line there.” Uotani raised a brow at Tohru’s content face, not sure how she missed the not this time part. Rolling her eyes, she moved on. What homework did they have left to finish? The closest sheet was math and Uotani scowled as she scanned it. “This is so frickin’ useless. I’m never going to need this.”

“Maybe in university?” Tohru suggested, sitting straight now. Picking up a different homework assignment, she stared determinedly at the sheet. Uotani could make out a few chemistry symbols on the back—H20 was water, right? “I think Yuki said that it would be useful there.”

“With my brains?” Uotani snorted at the idea, at the improbability of it all. She could just picture it, a yankee girl in a room full of straight-laced honour students. Maybe she’d make it in, but lasting longer than that? “Not gonna happen. Can you just imagine it? I’d get thrown out after a day.”

“You can’t think that way, Uo-chan!” Tohru refuted, her expression cross. She glared at Uotani, her fingers crinkling the paper. “You’d last more than a day! A week even!”

Uotani blinked. Processing it, she shook her head wryly. “So I’ll get kicked out either way?” Taking the paper out of Tohru’s grip, she smoothened it out on the table. “All that staring is just going to burn a hole in the thing.”

“If I look long enough, the answers might appear,” Tohru suggested hopefully, her hands clasped in front of her chest as though she were praying to a science god. Or maybe just a homework god. Uotani would take a math god, if she could.

“You’ve been spending too much time with the Sohmas’. At least, the idiotic ones.” Uotani flopped on the ground, staring at the ceiling. Man, she couldn’t wait to graduate. At least then there’d be no homework. Lowering her eyes to Tohru, she asked, “You’re going to university?”

For a moment, Tohru sat straight, her hand pumped up and ready for whatever speech she was about to give. Her mouth dropped open, she took a deep breath, and then she sighed and slumped forward. “I’ll just get a job.”

Uotani winced. Yep. That sounded about right. “Gotcha. We’re a trio of idiots. Maybe we can find a job together.”

“Oh, that sounds great!” Tohru perked up, her eyes shining at the thought. “We can work together and have lunch together.” She started counting on her fingers, excited. “And walk home together and—”

“We can do almost everything together,” Hanajima agreed, grasping Tohru’s hands gently. She squeezed once before dropping them. “Except for the work part. I will go to university.”

If Uotani had a drink, she would have choked. Actually, even breathing air, she choked. Hanajima. In university. No matter what angle she looked at it, it was impossible. “You’re going to university? What would you even do there?”

“Get my M.R.S.” Crossing her arms, Hanajima nodded seriously. “While it would be ideal to be Kyo’s mother, I want to check my options.”

“Kyo’s m-m-mother?” Tohru’s jaw dropped, her eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“Step-mother,” Hanajima corrected.

“You, stop that.” Reaching over, Uotani chopped Hanajima on the head. “Save it for when Kyo’s around.” The joke was less funny when he wasn’t there to react. At least, she hoped it was a joke. “You can barely study for a test, how’ll you pass the entrance exams?”

“That’s easy.” Hanajima picked up a pencil, one with the letters ‘A’, ‘B’, ‘C’, and ‘D’ at the end, and rolled it. “I just have to choose the right multiple choice answers.”

“There’s more to tests than multiple choice answers!” Uotani growled, facepalming. Still, either way, she wasn’t really too concerned about Hanajima’s future. No matter what she ended up doing, she’d probably be fine. That just left her and Tohru and whatever workplace would take in a delinquent and a saint.

“Do you think I could do that?” Tohru asked seriously, gripping the pencil tightly.

Uotani stared at her blankly. There were a few times when she wondered if she was the only one that had any common sense. “That wasn’t even a real thing.”

There was no point to her advice. Not listening, Tohru rolled the pencil herself. It rolled over the table, falling off to the side, and landing on the plush carpet. The ‘B’ landed up and she stared at it for a long minute before looking at Hanajima helplessly. “I don’t know what that means.”

“No one does,” Hanajima sympathised, patting her on the back.

“Guys! Seriously!” Uotani resisted the urge to bang her head on the wall. Judging by the clumsy plaster marks on it, someone else had already beat her to it. And to breaking the doors and windows. Actually, now that she thought about it, there were a lot of patches in the building. Sure, Kyo and Yuki fought a lot, but clearly they were worse at home than she thought. Was that a hole on the roof too? Maybe she shouldn’t let Tohru stay here after all.

“They’re like wild animals,” Hanajima muttered, reading her mind. Probably reading her mind. Uotani had never really gotten a clear answer on that one.

Tohru froze at the words. Stiffly, she stammered, “W-w-what do you mean?”

“The Sohma family.” Hanajima sighed, pointing at the patches. “They fight like wild animals.”

“Oh.” Tohru blinked once. Twice. Third time, she smiled with relief and patted her chest with an open hand. “Kyo isn’t good at fixing—you should see Yuki’s. I can barely tell there was a hole sometimes.”

“And the roof doesn’t like when it rains or anything like that?” Uotani asked, incredulous. No matter how skilled the Sohma boys were, they were still teenagers. And how the hell did a pair of teenagers break a roof? Even in her days in the gangs, she’d never heard of such a thing.

“After the first week, my room was declared a safe zone.” Tohru smiled proudly, pointing up. “They’ve always broken somewhere else.” After a moment’s thought, she stared at her door worriedly. “You don’t think they’re getting leaks?”

“A safe zone…are you in a war?” Uotani was 80% certain that this was because it was Tohru’s room, more than anything else. 20% was the fact that they were terrified Hanajima would curse them if Tohru even mentioned it once. “Nah, they’ll be fine. But…you know…since it is worrying, maybe we should just live with you.”

“Huh?” Tohru stared owlishly at her, not comprehending this sudden twist.

“If we’re going to do everything together anyways—” Uotani explained, brightening at the thought.

“I’m going to university,” Hanajima reminded, returning to Tohru’s hair.

“If we’re going to do everything together anyways,” Uotani continued as though she hadn’t heard a thing. “Why not just live together too?”

“It’d be economical,” Hanajima pointed out, perhaps her only good idea of the day.

“Ohhhh!” Stars filled Tohru’s eyes and she clapped her hands together at the thought. “All of us. Living together.”

“There’s enough space here for all of us.” Uotani counted on her fingers the number of rooms she’d seen. The living room. The four bedrooms. The kitchen. The building definitely had a few rooms that weren’t used, it was fricking big. With a little bit of cleaning, they could make them livable. “We could get the boys to help clean. Kyo has to be useful at something.”

“He’s really good at moving things!” Tohru chirped, almost vibrating in her seat with excitement.

“If he complains, I’ll pummel him,” Utonai grinned. “And that perverted author would definitely be happy to have more girls here.”

“He’s very nice!” Tohru defended, though she didn’t argue about the ‘perverted’ part. “I’m sure he’ll let you stay.”

“Right. If you say so.” Uotani was pretty sure Tohru didn’t have a firm grasp on the reality of her housemates. She probably saw their fighting as nothing more than a petty squabble either. “Anyways, it’d be nice. Remember that time I stayed with you and Kyoko for a week? It’d be like that times a hundred.”

“Oh that was great!” Clapping her hands together, Tohru nodded eagerly. “You and Mom made…” Tohru’s eyes darkened, and she lowered her lids. Her hands clutched her skirt tightly. Her voice softened. “Do you think she’d be happy?”

“Happy?” Uotani asked, straining to hear her friend. She leaned closer. Already Hanajima was hugging her from behind, her arms loosely folded around Tohru’s neck as she rested her head on Tohru’s shoulder.

“That I’m not going to university?” Tohru bit her lip. Her fingers started to dig to dig into her thighs. “That I’m getting a job like her.”

“Tohru…” Not wasting a minute, Uotani grabbed Tohru’s hands and squeezed them tight. Leaning forward, she pressed her forehead against Tohru’s. “She’s definitely happy. Like, the most fricking happy mom there is. You’re graduating high school! She didn’t even get to do that.”

“I know she’s smiling at you,” Hanajima comforted her. There was something reassuring about her saying it, as though she was looking at her ghost right now and translating from the other side. “She’s proud.”

“Really?” Tohru looked up now, staring at Uotani. “Do you really think so?”

“I know so.” Uotani chuckled, remembering the crazy, ex-gang-member-turned-doting-mother. There was not a single parent who loved their child like Kyoko loved Tohru. Hell, there was not a person alive who loved anyone as much as Kyoko loved Tohru. “As long as you’re happy, she’d be happy.”

“I am. I am really, really happy.” Tohru turned her hands over, clasping Uotani back.

“And I’m happy and even Hanajima is happy, if not somehow surviving a heat stroke.” Uotani grinned, before slowly untangling herself from Tohru. Reaching back to the table, she grabbed the math sheet once more. “Though we ain’t graduating without actually finishing this.”

“Right…” Tohru’s smiled dropped as she stared at the paper. “I don’t know how to do that.”

Releasing Tohru after a last squeeze, Hanajima flopped backwards onto the ground. She stared at the ceiling blankly. “We could just take an extra year to graduate. Your mom would understand.”

“No, we…” Tohru stared at the paper once more, biting her lip. Reluctantly, she looked away and mumbled, “It still counts, right? A delayed graduation is still graduating.”

“Guys, no. We’re not letting that orange-haired bastard graduate before us,” Uotani vehemently bit out, already picturing Kyo’s smirk. Reaching down, she yanked Hanajima back up into a sitting position. “We just need a little help. And what better help than the resident prince?”

“Yuki!” Tohru brightened immediately and sprang to her feet. “He’s downstairs.”

“Good.” Uotani paused, realizing that they hadn’t heard any earthquakes, mass destruction, or even plain old arguing for the past hour. Mount Kyo-Yuki was set to explode. They’d get nothing done if that happened. “Don’t invite Kyo.”

“Huh?” Already skipping to the door, Tohru immediately halted. Her head cocked one way and then the other before she finally turned around and looked at Uotani in confusion. “Why?”

“Yuki. Kyo. In a room,” Uotani explained slowly, enunciating each word clearly. When it was clear Tohru didn’t get it, she spelled it out. “They’ll fight and we’ll fail a year.” Not to mention. Tohru’s room would probably get destroyed. Cursed by Hanajima or not, Tohru’s room or not, there was no way the pair would be able to handle tutoring each other for a few hours. Not with Kyo’s pride—he’d take offense at the smallest thing.

“Kyo could fail too!” Apparently the only word Tohru heard was failure and she ran out of the room in a panic. “Shigure! Kyo! Yuki!”

“Wait that wasn’t—” It was too late, Uotani could hear Tohru’s shouts as she raced downstairs. Well. There went any hope of a peaceful study session. Uotani glanced at the table once more, at their pile of papers. To be honest, they weren’t getting anything done today anyways. They’d been studying in this room for at least two hours and the only thing they had to show for it was Tohru’s new hairstyle.

“He’ll fail with us,” Hanajima consoled, with such certainty it felt more like a prophecy.

“I don’t know if I should be happy about that or not.” Uotani winced as she heard an angry stomping up the stairs. Turning to Hanajima, she raised a brow. “It’s not too late to burn them all, is it?”

#fruits basket #furuba #tohru honda #saki hanajima #arisa uotani #fanfic

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driversmutbucket · 5 years

Note

I don't know if you take requests, but if so what about Clyde x reader of you being on your period and jdut being SUPER horny and our sweet boy just helps you out! Uuggghhh I love Clyde!

I do take requests!

My horniness and love for Clyde Logan is unwavering, ugh what a man.

Look, I don’t think Clyde would be phased about riding the red wave. That man will do anything for you, and doesn’t like to see you suffering, in any way.

——

Warnings: period sex 🤠

You squirmed on the couch, rubbing your thighs together in desperation.

“Al’righ darlin’?” Clyde asked, voice tinged with concern. Your head was on his lap as you lay on the couch, a hot water bottle pressed to your abdomen.

“Ah it’s nothing” you huffed, frustrated beyond belief with your current state.

“Ok, well-” he began.

“The thing is I’ve been ragingly horny all day” you blurted out, “and I’m very frustrated” you muttered, scowling.

Clyde chuckled and you whipped your head to look up at him, if looks could kill he would have been a dead man.

“Oh darlin’ why didn’t you say earlier?” He winked at your scowling face as he stroked your hair.

You sat up, “What? But I’ve got my-”

“I’ll meet ya in the shower in a few minutes” he murmured, kissing you on the lips before reclining back again on the couch.

You sat there slighting dumb founded for a few seconds before jumping up and hightailing it to the bathroom. You swear you could hear Clyde chuckling as he watched you move with speed.

A few minutes later you were standing under the hot stream of water when you heard the bathroom door open and close.

You could hear Clyde undressing, you were almost vibrating with anticipation.

The shower door opened and Clyde slipped in, running his eyes all over your naked, wet form.

“Fuck, ya just beautiful” he said gruffly, before you pulled him towards you and ran your hands up his broad chest and to his face.

“Are you sure about this” you asked, chewing your lip nervously, “I know it’s kind of... gross....”

“Sweetheart it ain’t gross, it’s perfectly natural” he soothed.

“Dunno what the hell i did to deserve you” you sighed happily.

“Darlin’ I ask myself the same thing every day.”

With that he cupped your arse with his good arm and hoisted you up. You looped your legs around his waist as he gently pressed you against the shower wall.

Your fingers combed through his now wet hair as your mouths met hungrily. You loved the way his facial hair grazed your face.

You could feel him hardening beneath you as you nipped and sucked his bottom lip.

He removed his mouth and placed a trail of kisses down your neck and across your shoulder.

He placed you back on your feet.

“Need my hand” he murmured, lightly tracing up your hips and waist.

He sucked and kissed your neck as his large hand began massaging your breasts, thumbing over your erect nipples causing little whimpers to escape your lips and your back to arch.

He got down on his knees and pulled your body towards him, his erection brushing again your legs. He attached his mouth to your breast, sucking and flicking your nipple.

“Oh fuck Clyde” you moaned loudly, you felt him hum happily against your breast.

His hand gave your butt cheek a squeeze before traveling to your throbbing clit and stroking it.

“Oh my god, baby” you breathed, “that’s amazing.”

You were so worked up that you knew you wouldn’t last long, your legs were already quivering.

You placed your hands on Clyde’s shoulders to steady yourself as the pressure in your abdomen grew. He increased the speed and pressure in which he was working your clit. You cried out as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, slumping slightly against the wall as your legs failed you.

Clyde pulled back, grinning, as you caught your breath.

“Now, darlin’, how do you want it?” He asked, giving his cock a few pumps.

You grinned, turned and bent over, placing your hands on the wall and wiggled your arse. You were very grateful for your double shower in moments like this.

You heard Clyde’s low chuckle as his hand rubbed your bottom appreciatively.

You felt the tip of his cock at your entrance and moaned loudly as he slowly pushed in.

“Fuck ya feel like heaven” Clyde praised as he began to slowly pump his hips, “i love your perfect pussy”.

A smirk ghosted your lips, you loved how this soft gentle giants lips spewed dirty talk during sex. Your face contorted in pleasure as his hand found your clit again.

“Ah! Baby, that’s fucking amazing” you groaned, “I’m not going to last.”

Clyde started to piston his hips faster and you knew you were doomed as his cock hit your g-spot over and over. You clenched around him as you crumpled, he held your waist as you rode out your climax.

Once recovered you slipped off him and spun around, beaming. Grabbing a pump of body wash you reached down and grabbed his still erect cock.

You began to wash him enthusiastically, Clyde’s moans graced your ears as you made sure he was thoroughly clean.

“Stand under the water baby, need to wash the soap off so I can put you in my mouth” you purred.

Clyde did so obideently, and you sunk to your knees, the stream of warm water hitting your back.

You took him into your mouth, sucking and licking, genuine sounds of delight escaping your mouth.

“Fuck sweetheart you look so beautiful all wet, sucking my cock” Clyde groaned.

You looked up and met his eyes as you continued your ministries. He groaned loudly as you reached and cradled his balls, massaging gently.

You could sense that he wanted to move on his own accord, pausing you looked up, “baby, do you want to fuck my mouth?” You asked sweetly.

You had all but lost Clyde, he could only moan loudly and close his eyes at the offer. He began to pump into you as you did your best to relax your throat, he was a big boy.

His thrusts grew erratic as he neared climax. “I’m gon-” was all the warning you got before he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed and grinned up at him. His face was the picture of post orgasm bliss.

“C’mere sweetheart” he murmured, helping you up, “let me look after ya”.

He grabbed the body wash and shower pouf and began tenderly washing your body.

———

Hope you like it.

*fans self*

#fan fiction #clyde logan #clyde x reader

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lady-charinette · 2 years

Text

I posted 9,953 times in 2021

153 posts created (2%)

9800 posts reblogged (98%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 64.1 posts.

I added 5,942 tags in 2021

#miraculous ladybug - 1451 posts

#ml - 1238 posts

#adrien agreste - 565 posts

#ml spoilers - 483 posts

#chat noir - 448 posts

#miraculous - 423 posts

#art - 385 posts

#marinette dupaincheng - 383 posts

#luka couffaine - 288 posts

#ml art - 278 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#he actually bought it but stopped reading it after chapter 1 bc it was 'boring' and he couldnt understand why the female teacher wrote about

My Top Posts in 2021

More memes bc my brain is screaming

See the full post

288 notes • Posted 2021-11-19 16:15:20 GMT

On the bad days, when Adrien feels so overwhelmed and helpless and he hates himself and for what he is, Marinette is always there to catch him.

On a particularly bad day, all Adrien can do is fall to his knees and cry and hold onto Marinette like a lifeline, as if she was the only thing anchoring him to reality and keeping his sanity in check.

He would hate himself for not being better, not being good enough, not deserving of anything Marinette gives him, all her love and affection, her time and patience. Anything.

He deserved none of it.

And Marinette would kiss his tears away and smooth back his hair and say: "Did you ever notice how you love me?"

Adrien is confused, his head is pounding from crying, he doesn't know what she means.

So, Marinette shows him.

She shows him the little bulletin board he set up in the living room, with both his and her own schedules, important dates to remember or little day-to-day reminders.

"I'm often so forgetful when I have an ongoing project and that's the only thing I see for the next few weeks, I tended to forget to grab things for work, but you always post these reminders so I don't forget anything important."

Marinette moves to the kitchen, she opens the fridge. "You always pack me lunch and breakfast if I forget to eat in the morning. I never go hungry anymore at work thanks to your lunch boxes." She smiled so brilliantly, Adrien could've mistook her for the sun. "You learned to cook so many dishes, to balance me out, all I can do is bake, but you can cook better than Alya's mom."

Adrien felt giddiness fill his chest, a soothing warmth that always swelled up whenever Marinette complimented him.

Marinette walked over to Adrien and fell on her knees beside him, cradling his face like it was the most precious porcelain in the world. "You do chores a lot more than me, while I take naps during the day you make sure the house is clean and wash my clothes, you make sure to air out my work room so it isn't stuffy. You massage my feet and hands when I'm exhausted from work or bandage my fingers if I pick myself with the needles. You model my designs for me even after you had a long day at work and want nothing more than to sleep. You immediately go to the store if I crave something we don't have in the kitchen." Marinette's thumb brushed across her husband's cheek tenderly, wiping away the remainders of tears.

She kissed his forehead sweetly and Adrien sniffled, overwhelmed with emotion. "Whenever you do all these things for me, you never look tired at all. So let me do things for you too kitty, let me be there for you as you are to me. Let me love you like you love me too."

Fresh tears filled Adrien's eyes and he hugged his wife again, this time not out of his own self-loathing but his overwhelming love for her that threatened to consume him.

313 notes • Posted 2021-08-17 02:56:51 GMT

AU where Marinette and Adrien remember bits and pieces from Tikki and Plagg's memories about their lives and the past holders.

The problem is they can't place the memories and don't know if they happened in the past or present.

So, one day Ladybug asks Chat Noir:"...Did you accidentally cataclysm a church after they wanted to burn me at the stake?"

Chat Noir: "...They what"

477 notes • Posted 2021-10-28 14:53:27 GMT

Ep. "Truth" Spoilers without context:

502 notes • Posted 2021-04-03 13:25:41 GMT

Me @ every piece of media I consume:

1793 notes • Posted 2021-02-23 16:25:43 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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barfzal · 5 years

Text

warm honey

word count: 3,500

warnings: lots of smut

requested: yes sir!

a/n: alright alright alright, friends. here is some more of the tender mat smut you guys have been wanting! i really hope you all like it, and thank you for all the kind words on my previous posts. if you dig this one and have other boys i should write about, lmk. and if you’re sick of seeing me in the barzal tag, so am i. i don’t want to love this idiot. anyways, this one was inspired by lovesong - the cure, and just a tiny disclaimer that the french in here is all credited to like my little to no knowledge from duolingo and google translate, so if it’s wrong or worded weird, and you know how to fix it, please lmk. anyways, much love as always ⋆ mia

Epsom salts effervesce in the comfortably hot water of the porcelain tub you rested in. The oversized window in the bathroom offers a prepossessing view of the forested British Columbia, and with the smaller windows of the bathroom cracked open, you can hear the songs of the native birds over the fizzling of the minerals. To your right was a glass tray that contained your delicate signet ring with a cursive ‘MB’ engraved into it, a ceramic mug of freshly steeped green tea, and a small glass jar of honey with a spoon dipped in. Your attention is stolen away from the view when you hear the light footsteps of your boyfriend through the door, and your lips involuntarily curl into a smile when you see him. “Hey,” you breathe out. The white towel wrapped around his broad hips hardly covered much, and was entirely pointless as he pulls it off of him. “I hope you don’t mind if I disturb your peace,” he says while lifting one knee and putting his foot in the opposite end of the large bathtub. You lift your knees into your chest to allow him room as he sinks into the water; his presence sends a wave in the water, and it pushes over your breasts and to your collar bones. Once Mat is resting with his back into the opposite end of the tub, he pulls your ankles between his open thighs, and he rests your feet on top of his strong chest. His rough, veined palms tenderly slide up and down the smooth surface of your calves and shins, and in response you let out a content sigh.

Your eyes lift, and just above the water was the rigid surface of his abdomen, the muscles are relaxed but maintain great definition. His broad shoulders filled the frame of the oversized oval shaped porcelain tub. His cord necklace is loosely wrapped around the tendons in his throat and rests between the valley of his prominent collar bones. His stare was fixated on the surface of your skin he was rubbing, until he noticed your eyes on him, and his eyes lift to meet yours. They were a lighter olive tone, especially with the sun pouring through the open window, and you heard him speak, but forgot to listen while you looked into his eyes. “Come here,” you murmur with your own little grin. His eyebrows furrow only a little from curiosity, but he is already shifting his hips, lifting them to move in towards you, and you lift your back from the tub to press a softhearted kiss into his lips. His lips are supple, and he opens his mouth to let out a warm sigh between your lips as he kisses you. His hands move to cup your cheeks, and he presses his tongue to the space between your lips and sinks his lips onto your bottom lip where he sucks for a few moments. Your cheeks are already warm and flushed when you draw apart, and your eyes meet his. With your arms you beckon him to you, and he turns over, his shoulder blades shifting, and he leans his muscled back into your breasts. His hands wrapping around your knees under the water as he rests between your open thighs. Your arms wrap around him, not entirely able to make it over the width of his shoulders. You lift one damp hand to his head, and your fingers seep into the softness of his dark hair. Your nose presses behind his ear, you can still smell the lingering of his cologne behind his ear. You smooth a kiss over the part just behind his earlobe, and he lets out a quiet moan that comes out like it does when he awakes every morning.

Your fingers gently tug the silk strands of his hair so he will lean his head back into your chest. His head eases into the space between your breasts and your collarbones, and with everything going quiet, he focuses on the beat within your chest. So often you were the little spoon, and you were easily consumed by his big frame, but whenever you get to cradle him to you, it spreads a different kind of happiness over you. You press a kiss into his forehead, and now your head rests atop his. “I love you, you know that?” he murmurs with a half turned smile, and it makes you let out a little giggle. “I love you,” you whisper back over his forehead while pressing a kiss just above his eyebrows. Your wet fingers slick back his damp hair, and he shifts slightly in your arms, secretly loving the way your nails feel against his scalp. “You like that?” you ask slightly amused at how he twisted in your arms like a kitten. “Oui,” he mumbles back with his face burying into your chest with a shy smile. “Anthony teach you that?” you joke with a light giggle at his French he tried to keep sharp with his best friend. He let out a soft laugh that sounded sweeter than the song of the birds you had been listening to.

Mat leans into your embrace and presses another kiss into your lips, but it translated differently. His hands tenderly slide over your body under the surface of the water, and they brush over the curve of your hips to your waist as he presses his lips into yours. You breathe into the kiss, and he meets your breathe with a quite moan pressed between your lips. His hands have a firm but tender grip on your flesh as he runs them over your chest. His fingers sink into the softness of your breasts and he squeezes them gently, and he groans at the supple feeling of your flesh under his palms. His lips leave yours, and he sloppily presses a kiss on the edge of your bottom lip and your chin. His kisses trail down your chin, over the outline of your jaw, down the center of your throat. He drags his teeth over the nape of your neck, but brushes his tongue over it faintly as he closes his mouth into the spot making your mouth open, and you breathe out audibly. His hand moves under your breast to cup it, and he wraps his lips around your nipple and hums as he sucks on it. His lips curl over it, and as your eyes open, you watch him lift his dark lashes and meet you with his green hued eyes. His mouth opens, and you see his tongue flatten over your nipple before he sinks his teeth into it gently, and you whimper. “Baby,” you whine out as your fingers wrap around the wrist of his hand nestled under your breast. Mat’s tongue slides over your nipple before lifting his open mouth to yours. Your lips meet and melt into a wet kiss. Your eyes close as you feel the pressure of his lips on yours, and your eyes open when he pulls back from the kiss, both of you breathing a little heavier than before.

“You like that?” he mocks your prior question, and you let out a hushed giggle as your forehead brushes against his and he presses a kiss into the bridge of your nose. “Oui,” you mimic his response and he lets out a quiet chuckle, knowing just how poor your own French was in comparison to his. “More than that cup of tea you were having before I came in?” he questions you with a small smirk. With your fingers lacing over his smooth hair that’s curling slightly as it dries, you smile back to him. “I didn’t even get to have a sip before you interrupted me,” you tease back. Mat turns to pick up the mug, and he takes a sip. His tongue runs over his lips after he swallows it, the adams apple in his throat shifting as he does so. “Needs some honey,” he murmurs with a little smile. Your hand extends to the jar of honey, and your finger runs over the edge, gathering some of the thick sweetener on your finger and bringing it to his lips. He sucks the small tip of your finger while looking into your eyes, and slowly his lips pull from your finger, leaving behind some of his saliva. You bring the finger tip to your tongue and lick his saliva from it which makes him grin. He was so enamored with the way you loved him so wholly.

Mat grasps your hips and sinks back to his knees in the tub, and in one swift motion, he gracefully slides you up onto his lap. His fingers slide over your wet hair and runs his fingers through it, pushing it back before his lips press into yours again, and you sigh sweetly into the kiss. “I love you,” you both breathe out into the kiss at the same time, and he presses another kiss into your wide smile, both of you so entirely synchronized like the two of you were one at some point. You press another kiss into him through smiles you try to maintain but are failing horribly at concealing. His fingers slide over your throat and his thumb strokes the surface of your cheek. You look into his eyes, and see his eyes tracing over the details of your face, and you feel the warmth creeping to your face. You remember what it had been like when the two of you first started seeing each other. The rush of adrenaline you would get when you felt his eyes on you. His eyes mirrored his admiration, and now he lifts his eyes up to yours. He chuckles softly while his hands seep into the fullest portion of your hips. He grabs you there, pulling you deeper into him even though you’re already nestled in his lap, and your head sinks into his shoulder, your face pressing into the crook of is neck.

“I want you,” he whispers against your ear, lips tracing over your ear before kissing into your earlobe, and with one hand sliding between your thighs he presses his shaft, that has grown without your knowledge, against your warm spread open slit, with your thighs straddling him. He slides it gently over you, and he groans quietly. He leans back, legs fanning out behind you as he rubs the tip of himself over your slit back and forth. His lips hang open, and you watch him hiss as he presses his thick cock over your pussy. Your hands grasp the edges of the luxurious tub while you lift your hips, and you slowly slip onto him. As you sit down on to him, both of you let out a low moan together. Mat rests back into the shallow water, his head leans back into the tub while you move your hands to the strong surface of his chest. You look down at him; his chest is wet and glimmering, and his biceps are flexed as he holds your hips. His lips part as he moans out at the warmth and tightness of you around him, fitting him like a glove as you sink down onto him. His cock fills you up, the first thrust was always painful; no matter how much the two of you went at it, it would never prepare you for the initial sting of being stretched open by his shaft. Your whimper is what makes him gradually lift his hips into you, and he holds you up by the waist. His hips slowly rocking under you as he pushes himself up into you. Your moans fall from the edge of your lips with ease as he does. His cock plunges into you over and over, his hips now increasing speed as he buries himself inside of you. “Fuck,” he groans out; his noises come deep from the back of his throat. The wet strands of his hair stick to his cheek and the back of his neck and some fall in front of his forehead while he thrusts. Your eyes lift to watch him as his eyes roll back until they close. “You feel so good,” he lets out while thrusting up into you. Your breasts bouncing from the way he pushes so deeply and hard up into you. Your hands grasp onto his chest to hold yourself steadily on top of him. “Mat,” you struggle to get out before sinking down onto him. His hips relax, and he rests in the tub. He lifts his eyes to yours, and you lift your hips before slowly sliding back down onto him, and grinding your hips back and forth with him fully inside of you. His fingers find your thighs and he squeezes you there, gripping on to you. “God, yes,” he sputters out while breathing heavily.

As you lift your hips to bring them back down with your eyes closed, Mat grabs your hips and starts to push you off of his cock. You gasp at the loss of contact, your eyes snapping open, and he lets out a laugh at your reaction. “Come here,” he whispers to you as he lifts you before pushing you to the edge of the tub, a broad porcelain edge that you find yourself sitting down. Before you are able to settle into position, you feel Mat pry your thighs apart. You are about to joke about his eagerness when he sinks his tongue into your wet pussy, and both of you moan upon contact. His moan muffled into your mound as he forces his tongue inside of you and slowly pulls it out, sliding it up your folds and to your clit. His pink lips wrap around your clit, and he hums as he sucks on it, his tongue flicking over it, his saliva rolling between your slit. You gasp out, and watch him. He closes his eyes, groaning as he savors your flavor. His tongue flicking between your thighs makes sweet noises that make you moan. The light stubble that was growing over his jaw brushes against your inner thigh, and his lips glisten as he pulls back. He delicately kisses the inside of your inner thigh before he purses his lips and spits on your pussy. His fingers slide over your slit and rubs the saliva into it, before he raises his eyes to observe you. “Fuck,” you whine out, toes curling in the air. He raises his arched, dark brows and flashes you a smug grin. He presses a kiss into your pussy before he gingerly slides his tongue back over it. “Vous avez si bon goût,” he murmurs into you before kissing your clit once more, showing off his French that you were sure Anthony did not teach him.

“Please fuck me,” you whine out through heavy moans, already growing impatient after his nimble licks and constant teasing. He presses another kiss into your pussy before a smile forms over his lips. “Ask me in French,” he challenges you with a smirk. “S'il vous plaît,” you oblige quietly, with a shy smile forming over your lips. Mat giggles at your own French. “That’s my girl. Come see how good you taste,” he whispers as he brings himself up on his knees, his fingers lacing behind your neck as he pulls your lips into his. You fervently kiss him now, your tongue flicking over his as you taste yourself on his lips. He moans into your mouth while he rubs his cock over your slit. Your fingers wrapping around his strong, full biceps and he pushes into you, making you gasp against his tongue. “Oh my god,” you stutter out. He sinks into you, his fingers holding the back of your neck. Your forehead presses into his and your nose brushes against his as he holds your face to his. “Look into my eyes,” he murmurs to you while he pushes in you and then draws out. You struggle to keep your eyes open through the euphoria that piled up inside of you. Your muscles were clenching and relaxing, and your leg starts to tremble as your own orgasm nears. “I’m gonna cum,” you choke out through long moans and your breathes that becomes more strained. His hand moves to the front of your throat, not tightly, but holding you there as he bites his bottom lip. His own breathing came out harder, and he held back groans that sounded like growls. “Cum for me,” he encourages you in a raspy, strained voice while his other hand slides down between the two of you, his thumb brushes over your clit, and he holds his thumb down to it and rubs firmly. The pleasure tears through you like strikes of lightning. Your head feels heavy and your vision is blurred as you come down from your high. Mat pushes in and out, moving leisurely before coming to a stop; his length rests inside of you to let you acclimate. You blink and pant heavily, and you feel Mat’s lips brush against yours. “Good girl,” he hums out while kissing you again.

The calm that washes over you after an orgasm makes you let out a soft laugh, and he matches it. His own laugh was contagious and you press a kiss into his lips. “Follow me,” you say to him as your smile eases. You pull off of him and climb off of the tub. Mat rises to his feet, moving from the tepid water and following you into the bedroom just off of the bathroom. You turn to face him and with your small fingers entangled with his, you push him into the bed. His body still wet and glimmering, but you would worry later about the wet sheets. You sink down between his thick thighs, your hands brushing over the strong, muscled surface of his thighs, and you slide your tongue over his hard cock, tasting yourself on him, like you marked him as your own. His eyebrows furrow, knitting together as he watches you with parted lips. You take in the sight of him. His fingers rake through his own hair, pushing strands of it back, his abdomen flexes as he takes in deep breaths, the muscles clenching when you press a kiss into the underside of his cock. “Oh my god, yes,” he stutters, his khaki colored eyes rolling back in his head. “You are so fucking hot,” he groans out, his head rolling back, showing off the definition of his jaw and neck. Beads of water roll down his strong torso, and his chest glistens. His teeth press to his bottom lip as your lips wrap around him and you suck on the tip of him. His fingers slide over your hair, and he brushes the side of your cheek with his thumb, his eyes focused on you as you lick him. He moans quietly, and your eyes meet his. You could see the intense bliss he felt in his eyes, and he gasps. He takes you by your cheek and pulls you from his cock when he feels his orgasm building, wanting to save it for you. His thumb wipes the saliva from your chin before he brings your lips to his.

Mat kisses you with passion dripping from his lips, before he turns you over. He wraps one of his strong arms around you and pulls your back into his chest, his fingers sliding down your stomach and slowly he pushes himself back into you, to finish off the blissful evening. He wraps his hand over your breast, and buries his face between your neck and your shoulder. He presses light kisses into your shoulder blade while he thrusts into you. His cock pushing into you and hitting your spot just right, making you ache from your prior orgasm. “I’m gonna cum,” he pants out as he thrusts sloppily and harshly up into you. His hand clenches your waist, and he pulls you back deeper into his embrace, his large frame engulfing yours. His heavy breathing is loud against your ear as he holds you close into him. “Oh my god baby,” he whimpers. His lips open and he lets out a string of moans between ropes of his cum shooting inside of you. It’s thick and warm inside of you, and he holds you into his body, his thighs tensing and relaxing after his orgasm. He swallows down a few heavy breaths, and lazily presses kisses just behind your ear. After a few moments, of your heartbeat ringing in your ear, and your balmy skin feeling like electricity is running over it, you turn over to see a grin of total gratification on his face. You both let out soft laughter as you settle into his dewy arms. His warm, damp forehead rests against yours, and he lightly rubs the tip of his nose against yours. “I love you,” you breathe out into his lips. “Je t’aime,” he responds while his lips smooth a kiss over your forehead, and his fingers trace delicate patterns over your back.

#mat barzal #mat barzal smut #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine #new york islanders #mia's writing

933 notes · View notes

captainamericasbeard · 5 years

Text

Bloom

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 1.6k Category: Fluff Warnings: None

A/N: This is my entry for Day 13 of @ibwhellospring ‘s 31 day short story writing challenge. Today’s prompt was bloom. I’ll put links for each day on my masterlist if you want to catch up.

Masterlist

It was early morning and the sun was streaming in from the skylight above the kitchen island. Most everyone in the tower is still sleeping but as the first one up you fulfill your obligation of fixing a fresh pot of coffee. The smell mingles with dirt as you work. Spread out in front of you are seed packets and old egg cartons, little copper labels you found at Home Depot, a bag of tulip bulbs and a big bright blue pot to plant them in. You pick up a sharpie and begin to artistically scrawl “tulips” along the side of the enameled pot as Bucky comes into the kitchen after his jog. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge before sitting at the island and looking at you questioningly.

“Why is there a 25 pound bag of dirt on the counter, Y/N?” You look at him with a quirked eyebrow. You don’t know Bucky that well, though you’ve definitely noticed his brooding, towering figure lurking around the tower. At the moment you can’t tell if he’s irritated by the situation or genuinely asking.

“I'm planting herbs and tulips,” you say with a matter of fact shrug. You start loading scoops of sweet smelling earth into the little egg compartments and sprinkling the different seeds on top before finishing up with a little more dirt.

“What for?” Bucky asks, wrapping his hands around the cup of plain black coffee he’s just poured himself.

“I figured the kitchen could use a little green in it. And Sam’s always complaining about the store bought herbs. And the tulips are just my favourite,” you say with a small smile.

“For Sam, huh?” Bucky asks noncommittally.

“Well, he does the bulk of the cooking,” you reply, wondering why that’s what Bucky chose to focus on. You finish up three trays of herbs and stick the little signs into the dirt. Basil, thyme, and oregano. You look happily at your little trays and line them up under the sunlight in front of the sink. Bucky watches you work as you move onto the tulips. You prep five bulbs and lovingly cover them with soil in the large pot you bought for them. You line them up next to your herbs and spritz down all the soil with a spray bottle. You catch Bucky watching you intently as you wash up and you offer him a soft smile, which he returns.

“Want some eggs?” You ask pointing to a bowl overflowing with little brown eggs. Bucky chuckles and gives you a nod.

________________________

And that’s how you start to get to know Bucky Barnes. He asks you about gardening and you recount the little garden you used to have at your house before you moved into the tower. How you learned from your dad who used to grow prize winning roses. Bucky recalls the little apartment garden his Ma had back in Brooklyn and how she would mend clothes to barter for seeds. And slowly over the mornings your talk strayed from gardening to favorite books to movie suggestions to childhood memories. You’d make him eggs every morning and he’d spritz down your seedlings for you.

You found yourself with a soft spot for this quiet soul. His dark hair and blue eyes and gentle confidence. Now when you saw him in the halls you’d offer him a tender smile instead of just a head nod. He’d borrow books from the small library in your room, frequently waking you up in the wee hours of the morning for the next book in a series. Eventually you told him to just use his assassin skills to sneak in and help himself and he’d leave you post it notes on top of your phone to let you know he’d been there.

Couldn’t put it down, sorry.

It was a cliffhanger, needed the next one.

Too good to wait til morning for the next one. Thanks Doll.

And gradually your seedlings grew.

______________________________

A few weeks later it was time to repot. This time Bucky stood next to you at the counter with a small trowel and a bag of dirt. You showed him how to pick up the seedlings by the leaves and how far apart to plant them in the large pots you’d chosen. You stood shoulder to shoulder and when his arm would brush yours you’d fumble and spill a bit of dirt on the counter. He showed you his work questioningly and you gave him an approving smile. You spritzed your tulips which had broken through the surface of the soil and turned to making eggs.

“Wanna watch a movie tonight?” Bucky asks without preamble. You look up at him to see his nervous blue eyes. “You’ve recommended so many good ones, I’d love to watch some of them with you,” he says quietly. You nod and say nothing under the pretense of making breakfast but soundlessly, hope is taking root in your heart.

That night it’s blankets and cocoa, popcorn and cookies, and The Fifth Element on the couch in the common room. Your knees touch occasionally as you laugh at the same parts. At one point Nat walks halfway into the common room. But catching the scene gently unfolding before her she smiles and backs away, texting the rest of the team to keep their distance. Your heart stammers when Korben tells Leeloo how much he loves her and you glance at Bucky to find him just as wrapped up in their romance as he was enthralled in the action. The credits roll and Bucky looks over to you.

You’ve fallen asleep and the blanket has fallen off you. Bucky looks at you with such tenderness in his expression. He gently moves the pack of Oreos from your lap and the mug from your hand. He covers you up with the blanket and carefully tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. He stands there watching you for a long moment before cleaning up your mugs and popcorn bowl and heading to bed. He passes Nat’s open door and she catches his soft expression and smiles quietly to herself.

_____________________

Your herbs are in full bloom. Lush and full, they look so inviting. Your tulips are taking their time. You come into the kitchen late this morning to find Bucky already there, watering your plants. You pause in the doorway and watch him, noticing him muttering under his breath to the tulips.

“… now you guys come along. I know she’s really excited to see what color you’re going to be.” You smile and your heart swells. Everything that’s been stirring beneath the surface finally breaks free and you quietly gasp in shock. Bucky hears you and looks up blushing. “Just giving them a little talking to,” he says as his cheeks grow pink. You step into the kitchen and take the watering can from his hands, brushing his fingers with yours.

“You're not far off. They say it helps to sing to your plants,” you say as you pick off a few errant leaves. You move over to making breakfast for the two of you while your insides are a riot of colour. You crack half a dozen eggs into a bowl and start to whisk. You pluck some oregano out of the pot and chop it finely to release it’s fragrance.

Stars shining bright above you Night breezes seem to whisper I love you. Birds singing in the sycamore trees Dream a little dream of me.

Bucky has pulled the tulip pot close to him and with his arms wrapped around it, he’s crooning Doris Day. His usually gruff and quiet voice washes over you like sweet caramel.

Say nighty night and kiss me Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me. While I’m alone and blue as can be, Dream a little dream of me.

You’ve put the bowl and whisk down on the counter and you’ve fully stopped breathing at this point. Bucky looks up from the tulips and locks eyes with you. He comes around to your side of the counter and you turn to face him as he extends his hand. You take it, trembling, and he pulls you in close for a slow dance next to the dishwasher.

Stars fading but I linger on dear Still craving your kiss I’m longing to linger till dawn dear Just saying this

Sweet dreams till sun beams on you Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you But in your dreams whatever they be, Dream a little dream of me.

Bucky wraps one hand around your waist and you rest your head on his chest. He smoothly shuffles you around the floor, crooning sweetly in your ear. You have tears at the corner of your eyes and goosebumps all along your flesh. And you still haven’t found your breath. Bucky slows down and drops your hand, cradling your face in his hands. Your tears fall and he gently wipes them away with his thumbs.

“You ok, Doll?” He asks tenderly.

“Just overcome,” you whisper. He nods his head in understanding and leans down, capturing your lips in the sweetest kiss you’ve ever known. Your hands rest on his chest until you weave your arms up around his neck and your hands into his hair. This kiss and this moment have been growing in your hearts for so long and now its finally in full bloom.

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kv-r18-fics · 5 years

Text

Secret Santa Gift

Meant to post this a long while ago, but was too lazy busy.

This was part of a Secret Santa exchange in the ZackRay discord, and I got @galacticpotatoes to give a gift to.

What she wanted on the list? Zack wearing a bow....and only a bow.

Isaac couldn’t sleep a wink, he often rolled in the bed, or stared blankly at the alarm clock set at the nightstand near the mattress. It’s December 24th, or as Rachel said, Christmas Eve, and because of her, he’s learned that it was a holiday - because Christmas was a time for giving gifts to those people care about the most. He hasn’t thought of a single damn thing to get.

‘It’s gonna be Christmas tomorrow...I can’t sleep...I still haven’t gotten her jackshit…’

Minutes continued to tick by like they were seconds, which further fueled Zack’s agitation. He carefully picked himself up to look at the sleeping woman beside him, how carefree and peaceful she looked, it was tempting. His bi-colored eyes focused on her sleeping frame, while thoughts continued to project inside his mind, dropping probable hints and ideas for Isaac to work with. There was a time where she looked like she really enjoyed herself, it was often when he was involved, but her most expression of joy shown when - heat warmed Zack’s bandaged cheek.

When they made love, she was the most expressive out of the both of them - like it teased his predator instinct for those who appeared so alive. Just like that, an idea sparked in his mind.

The man carefully slid himself out of bed, leaving the woman to continue to sleep off the rest of the night.

“Mmh...morning, Zack…” Ray mumbled in a sleepy tone, “...Zack?”

His half of the bed was empty and cold, as she picked herself up to check on him. This left the woman confused as to where he wandered off to, normally Zack was always the one to sleep in. She slipped on a robe, and quietly shuffled herself out of the room to see what kind of trouble Zack was getting himself in to - last thing she needs is to find the man experimenting with cereal again.

“Zack?”

Her sleepy eyes glimpsed at the living room in the place they called home, seeing the small plastic Christmas tree she set up for the both of them, but the man was nowhere to be seen, not even on the couch, where he liked to take a quick nap.

“...Where has that man gone?”

Before she had a moment to think, she felt arms wrap around her waist, with something warm pressing against her neck. It cause goosebumps to rise within her skin, as the warmth was a mix of tender and rough - she knows there only one person on this Earth who could make her shudder like this. She glanced from the corner of her eye to spot those familiar odd-colored stare peering right back at her.

“Mornin’ Ray…” he spoke, almost like a purr.

His lips found her neck yet again, while a hand slid into her robe, to sweetly kneed at one of her breasts.

“Zack...nh…” she whimpered.

“Merry Christmas, Ray…” he continues, his tone lowering into a whisper, before his teeth tenderly nibbling at her ear. “Got’cha a present…”

A small inkling of surprise waved over Rachel, not expecting Zack to remember what today was. He gave her no chance to ask what he got her, instead, he turned her around to have a glance at what he had planned as a gift. The woman’s blue eyes focused on Isaac at first, until they trailed down his body. There were no bandages on his person, she should’ve known the moment Zack affectionately fondled her. However, he was covered up in a way she didn’t expect.

His entire waist had been wrapped up in silky ribbon, with a bow fixed up - literally making himself the present.

This caught her off guard, never expecting Zack to be this kind of impulsive, but at the same time, she was intrigued by his display of cleverness. The bow itself was crudely tied, but the words were clear for her to unwrap this gift. Well, she can’t turn down this thoughtful present - not to mention, having Zack kiss at her neck so tenderly, it definitely put her into the mood.

The woman brought a hand up to cradle his cheek in her palm, leading him closer and closer to her, until their lips met. Rachel was the one to turn the kiss deep, inviting herself into Zack’s mouth to play with his tongue, while savoring his taste. The couple hummed their own share of pleased sounds, as the kiss progressed. When they slowly pulled back for air, Ray leaned back up to gently tug at Zack’s bottom lip, dropping the man a hint that she was happily accepting her gift. Her hands found his, and stepped back to guide him back to their bedroom. With the close of the door, Ray pushed Zack onto the mattress, making his silent instructions clear that since he was her gift, then she could do whatever she pleased with him.

She wants to take her sweet time before unwrapping it, and that familiar red gleam in her blue orbs began to show her sinister intentions - tis’ the season, and Zack’s definitely brought out her need to be a little naughty.

Her fingers rolled along Zack’s abs, while she leaned close to press her lips on the man’s neck. She could feel his pulse increasing underneath her mouth, as she sweetly kissed, and suckled on his scarred skin. Rachel knows by heart which areas made Zack shiver, and she intends on teasing every single spot that riled him up. His breath became raspy and erratic, her lips and tongue were teasing whatever hidden nerves that sent tingles down his spine, while her hands massaged his firm pecs. He gripped tightly at the edge of the mattress, while he could feel the hair in the back of his neck stand on ends. Ray knows that he’s just getting warmed up, but she can fill him with much more overwhelming sensations. She pulled herself back, and quickly found his lips again, doing whatever she could to send Isaac’s mind in a haze. With this mental distraction, her fingers slid further down his pecs, and rolled her thumb along his nipples.

“Nh...Ray…” he gasped.

He does this to Rachel dozens of times during foreplay, but having it done to himself feels so strange - yet, very alluring. As Ray broke for air, she dipped her head down, to treat the man’s body with her lips as well, sweetly pecking at the muscle before finding her way to Isaac’s nipple. Her teases got them to harden from arousal, which was perfect for her lips to wrap around and suckle on them.

“H-haah…” Zack breathed. Feeling the sensation course through him, before settling between his legs.

Rachel loved how Zack tasted underneath her taste buds, while she continued her hungry suckles and licks. She wasn’t oblivious to the growing heat at Isaac’s thighs, she knows that the man was gradually getting harder with every erogenous zone getting her attention. The ribbon may be loose and silky, but with more of her ministrations, it’ll become very tight and cramped soon. Her tongue swirled along Zack’s nipple before her teeth played at it with a gentle tug, before finally relenting to focus her attention at Zack’s lower abdomen. Zack shivered as Rachel dragged her tongue along his row of abs, before kissing each one, and drawing ever so dangerously close to his navel. He’s getting much harder now, even sensing a growing dampness within the silk covering the only part of his body.

Pleased with hearing Zack’s hummed whimpers, and feeling his pleasured shudders underneath her lips. Looking at his half-lidded expression was such a huge turn on for the woman, it’s the only time she had the privilege to see such a vulnerable side of Zack - but this was just the start of the pleasure she was going to give him.

The woman’s fingers ran along the smooth ribbons, intentionally rolling against the throbbing bulge that pressed against the fabric. Even if the touch wasn’t fully direct, just feeling her warmth against his body made Zack tilt his head back a little.

“Ahh…”

Her constant antagonizing of his erogenous zones have made him very sensitive, and god knows if he was going to handle when she finally gets to the main event. Rachel can hear Zack’s frantic breaths just from a gentle slide of her fingers along the bulge, this made her sinister side wish to prolong this sweet torture just a little longer. The gentle caresses progressed into needy petting, feeling the pulses underneath her palm, as she ran her hand along the shape of Zack’s length, before letting her fingers knead at the head.

“F-Fuck!” he swore, with the jerk of his hips. “Nh!...D-Dammit, Ray...A-Aah!”

His hips are squirming within her touch, pleasing her to watch his reaction, while Zack struggled with his feral compulsion to pin her down and fuck her senseless. Rachel seems to enjoy pushing her limits of being the one in control until the man did snap. Her palm continued to pet him, before pulling back, and finally dipping her head down to let her mouth run along the shape of his bulge. Isaac’s fingers dug hard into the sheets, while his hips bucked hard against Ray’s mouth.

She’s really testing his patience, by now he would’ve had her pinned to the bed, while he was waist deep in her.

Rachel can feel Zack throb the hardest once her lips hummed against the concealed tip, and like before, she continued to test the man’s patience, by allowing her hands to slide further down to where his balls may be.

“R-Ray...I-I swear...Christmas-ah...or n-no…” he choked out, “I’m gonna lose it...n’ fuck you until...god! I’m gonna fuck you...til you can’t walk!”

“You do that all the time…” she goaded, before replacing her hand with her mouth.

“Gah!” he growled, “You won't walk until New Years, I swear to fucking God!”

Rachel internally smirked, getting that familiar nostalgia the last time he used such a phrase. She hummed against the man’s body once more, before lifting her head up to look at him, gently petting him to keep him stimulated.

“You swear to God?”

“Not this shit again…” he muttered under his breath, “...Y-Yes, okay?!”

It’s clear that he was getting sexually frustrated, she was going to enjoy herself for sure. Rachel leaned down and sweetly planted a tender kiss at the man’s navel, before letting her fingers find the ends of the bow.

Now it was time to unwrap her gift.

Slowly, she pulled at the ends, and watched the coiled fabric quickly loosen from its binds. Rachel watched Zack’s cock start to rise, now it was free from being compressed. It was still somewhat of a bulge from the abundance of silky ribbon, but it was easy to make out Zack’s anatomy through the open spaces. Rachel grasped at the ribbon to help fully reveal his form, not before one more last tease. With a painfully slow motion, she pulled the fabric to let it drag against Isaac’s hard cock.

“Nnh!”

Christ, she knows how to make anything feel good on his body.

Now nothing was covering him up, it was just Zack sitting right in front of her with his large cock dripping with precum. Her teasings always did the trick to have this man’s body aching for more, and just seeing the result enticed her to play a little more - no matter how loud Zack’s aggravations were. One hand gently grasped the base of of the shaft, while the other coiled just near the head.

Rachel can feel the heat coming from the man, as her eyes focused on Zack’s manhood. It’s flushed from arousal, with the tip showing a much stronger red hue. Slowly, Ray guided her hand up and down, watching the head sink and emerge from the stretched fold of skin over and over. Isaac’s breaths became deep and heavy, while his legs subconsciously spread a little more to give this woman room to pleasure him. Zack wants to jump on her so badly, but that one shred of humanity in him kept him restrained, since today was supposed to be special. His eyes stayed fixed on the woman softly stroking his hard dick, until she picked up the pace a little.

“Ha...Ray…”

Hearing him breathe her name with such desire sends shivers down Rachel’s spine. Her blue eyes glanced back up at the man, and inched up to the sensitive head - she wants him to watch.

“Ngh!”

Her warm tongue glided against the sensitive zone, feeling Zack’s frantic pulse underneath her slick taste buds, along with the sweet and salty taste of his essence that trickled out. That was one little lick, she pulled her tongue back to take in Zack’s flavor, before wetting her tongue for yet another, this time dragging it along the very tip.

“R-Ray!...Fuck...ah….n-not there!” he groaned.

Rachel knows that’s where he was the most sensitive, weakened him, and made Zack shudder just from the groove of her tongue tickling those sensitive nerves. It’s why she’s licking him there, as well as drinking him up from the very source. Her tongue swirled around the head, getting every inch from top to bottom, while the hand grasping the bottom of the shaft before to work its way further down. If Rachel mouthing on his bulge was torture, then he underestimated her. His stomach muscles tightened every now and then with every lick teasing his most erogenous areas, even to the point where Zack almost planted his hand in her hair to push her down onto his dick.

She can feel the tension, and sense his impending loss of self control, and she knows for damn sure that Zack wasn’t a liar when he shouts what’s on his mind. Ray was going to make the most of it before her borrowed time was up. She retracted her tongue, giving Zack a moment to breathe, before planting her lips on the shaft for a tender kiss. One, two, three sweet pecks, before sliding her tongue out to let it and her lips stroke Zack’s member.

“Haah...nngh!”

Zack’s vision was blurring from the pleasure, if it was not one thing, Rachel made sure that there was another. While her mouth worked along the shaft, her fingers made way to start fondling the man’s balls. Her fingers gently caressed and massaged the tender area, as it squirmed under her palm. She can feel the pulses and contraction with the constant stimulation, and when Rachel decided to finally envelop Zack’s cock within her mouth, it writhed with such liveliness.

“Hnn!...A-Aah!” Zack choked out.

His breaths became strained for a moment, and as soon as Rachel bobbed her head a few times, Zack threw his head back with a heavy sigh.

“Aaah…!”

Rachel suddenly sensed a sticky warmth filling her mouth, an all too familiar feeling when she’s pleasured him orally - Isaac just came with no word of warning. She can’t complain though, she’s teased and antagonized his sensitivities to increase the chances of ejaculation, but to make him do it so soon, well, she’ll consider that a personal pat on the back. His sweet, sticky seed filled her mouth within a couple spurts. She hummed a pleased sound, as her bobs slowed down to help ease every drop from him. Quiet slurps mixed with the sound of Zack’s relieving breaths, before Ray finally pulled back to down the contents. A small string of white beaded between the tip of Zack’s member and the bottom of Ray’s lip before gravity finally broke the union.

Zack took a couple more heavy breaths, until his blurred vision tried to get a good picture of reality. His head was spinning, and his body tingled with the lingering pleasure stirring within his thighs.

“Yer’....nhh...a fuckin’ hopeless tease…” he mumbles.

Ray licked her lips with satisfaction, and retaliated to Zack’s words by letting her thumb rub the underside of the head. A sharp moan slipped from Zack’s lips, while his body jerked in response. He was still fairly sensitive after ejaculating, but he was still hard and ready to go.

“Dammit, Ray!” he grunted, then noticed Rachel slipping off her robe and panties, keeping only her upper lingerie on.

The woman stood over Zack, bringing a hand up and pressing it against his chest, silently demanding him to lay on the bed. Acting against his will, his body complied, as he watched Rachel move to straddle his hips, with her sex practically dripping from arousal, and inching to meet his.

“Dammit nothing…” Ray purred, “I’m just enjoying this gift…”

Her thumbs rolled against the man’s nipples yet again, while she motioned her hips against the man’s dick.

“Haa…” she breathes.

His heat pressed against her soaked clit and folds, warming and stimulating her as she gyrated against the man’s body.

“Nhh...Zack…”

Zack’s restraint is treading on a thread, and she keeps chipping away at it - especially with that expression on her face, still deadpan, but clearly daring him to make due on his words. Zack can already feel the warm and sticky sensation drip onto his stomach, both a mixture of pre, and the remnants of his spent load. Frustration was too much for Zack to bear, and brought his hands up to grab Ray by the hips, only for her to catch them before he had the chance. Ray was determined to enjoy Zack, and pinned his hands above his head. Isaac’s bi-colored eyes watched Ray’s bosoms dangle right above him through the sheer fabric of her lingerie, almost like she was teasing him visually to go with the physical one. Isaac was surprised to see her display some strength, then again, this woman was always full of surprises.

With Zack’s hands held down from taking control, Ray freed one of her own to unbutton the lingerie, then work on the activity at their thighs. She picked her hips up a little, making sure Zack could see what she had in mind, as her hand brushed against the underside of Zack’s cock, and propped it up near her entrance.

“Mmh…” she purred in delight, once she pushed her hips back to slide the head in - and that was all she pushed inside.

Her blue eyes stared right at Zack’s, brimming with both ecstasy and deviousness. While his own wild eyes hazed with pleasure and lust from her heat taking his in.

“Haah...oh...Zack…” she mewled, savoring the pulsing warmth just barely inside of her.

Zacked grumbled in his throat, rolling his hips up to get her to take in more, but she moved herself to prevent him.

“No...I want to do it like this…”

She was not done teasing.

Back and forth, she moved herself up and down, sinking the head inside her before pulling back until it was just about to disconnect. It was like the sensation of their union over and over, snugly wrapping, and unwrapping around Zack, and sending his senses in a frenzy. Isaac took a deep inhale, as he tilted his head back onto the bed, it feels so damn good to have her sex tease his cock like this, but god damn, is it driving him crazy.

All this over his idea of a present.

Still, her moans and mews were hot and needy, like she was enjoying just this small insertion teasing at her entrance over and over again. Perhaps she loved the feeling of heat repeatedly penetrating her, or even feeling it writhe hard against the soaked ring. Whatever the reason, her hips continued its greedy bounces along the head.

“Nnh!...R-Ray!” Zack choked out. His stomach was tensing up again, the more she fucked him like this.

The woman was in a haze, but it was almost like a sixth sense when it came to Zack’s body language. Her hips picked up the pace to rub the swollen head with her inner walls again, as she watched Zack struggle to slide his hands free from her - Rachel definitely knows how to overpower this killer with pleasure alone. The man’s breaths grew hot and heavy again, with his toes curling hard. He arched his back a little, as his cock tingled and throbbed from her constant bounces, and his sense of reality was about to be ripped right from him. It’s just like with her mouth, she’s drawing his need to cum again with little to no warning.

Rachel continued to spring her hips, until she suddenly slammed it down on him, taking Zack up to the root, and threw her head back with a lustful moan.

“Oh, Zack!”

“Ngh!”

His cock thrummed against Rachel’s walls, with her body responding in return, squeezing and pulsing against him, until Zack’s vision turned white yet again. She can feel it, the head pressed so firmly against her sweet spot, until a sudden surge of warmth filled her quivering cavity with each hard throb of Zack’s member. He’s filling her up, every thick and sticky drop that spewed out from him. Ray whimpered in delight, her body immediately turning hot from Zack’s milky seed entering her, and craving for more. The woman released Isaac’s hands, so she could ground hers on his chest, and motion her hips to bounce on Zack’s hips yet again - determined to milk every last drop from him. Inside her feels so hot, sticky, and slick. She can hear her body sliding up and down Zack’s stimulated dick, while the movement - as well as gravity, was causing Isaac’s sperm to leak out from her. She can just get more, Zack is still nice and hard, especially given how hard she can feel it slam inside of her with her hips riding his.

Isaac panted heavily, his mind was all fuzzy, but his abdominal muscles were still tensing up. As his vision was trying to clear, he can hear the woman’s pleading moans, the sounds of their bodies colliding, and a slippery slicking sound that accompanied such collisions. His eyes glanced at what was above him, and saw the woman was in complete ecstasy. Her head threw itself back every now and then, as she lustfully slammed her body up and down Zack’s cock. Her warm snugness continued to squeeze and stroke his cock for every drop that seeped out of him, and more. Having her tease back the pleasure threatened to haze his mind again, but he also noticed another warmth trickling down the base of his shaft after each meeting of the hips, before settling at his balls. Isaac can see the milky white liquid trickle from Rachel’s sex, and coat his shaft from her movements. Thank god Ray was on the pill, using his release as lubricant was damn arousing - enough to make him want to tackle her and fill her to the brim.

It so happens, Ray wasn’t pinning his arms down anymore.

A smile creeped upon Zack’s face, watching and feeling Rachel shudder, all around him as her body caved into a small orgasm - Christ, given how many times her body has done this, how many times did she while he was in his haze? That question will have to be answered later, because he’s gonna make her feel a thousand more by the time he’s done with her. His hands quickly grasped the woman by the thighs, and dug his fingers hard into her supple skin. A glimmer sparkled in his eye, while he ravenously licked his lips for what he had in store. Ray noticed she was halted from her actions, and saw Zack had seized control - and from the look on his face, it’s now his turn to share this gift.

Zack was not going to let Rachel speak, or even give her time to think, the man held her down against his hips, and swiftly propelled them to slam deep inside of her. The pace was so rough and savage, but feels so damn good as he tagged Ray’s sweet spot over and over again. The woman shook from the pleasure shooting through her in multiple jolts, and like what she did to him prior, Zack was going to kick it up a notch. First, he shocked her with a merciless pace of swift thrusts, before slowing down to slam hard and deep inside of her. He can feel Ray cave in to another wave of pleasure, as she trembled, and her inner walls seized all around his hard cock. Her moans grew loud at first, shouting her brief moment of bliss before calming down to catch her breath - Zack wasn’t going to give her a break. During her moment of ecstasy, Isaac slid his hand further within her inner thighs, and allowed his thumb to slide between her lips. He found her hard and throbbing bud, not even thinking twice to bring his digit to press and tweak at those bundle of nerves.

“Zack!...H-haaah!” she whimpered, “Aaaahh!”

She’s caving again, almost hunching her body from the pleasure shooting all through her being before she was able to recover.

Zack released his death grip on Rachel’s leg, and placed his free hand on her shoulder. He was going to reverse the roles now, by planting her flat on the bed, while he stayed waist deep in her, and stood beside the mattress. With Rachel lost in sexual rapture, Zack propelled his hips yet again to take full advantages of her slippery tightness.

“Mhh! Aaah!” Ray whimpered, then covered her mouth tightly, as another shriek of delight escaped her lips.

Isaac can feel it, aside from him constantly teasing out another orgasm, he noticed she was much slippier than before, and noticed just how soaked Rachel suddenly got. The man smirked to himself, realizing he got her to cum. He didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon, not until he was fully satisfied. Zack kept the savage pace going, rocking his pelvis back and forth to drag his slippery member in and out of Ray’s quivering channel, as her juices continued to damped his thighs upon impact. Rachel whimpered, and shrieked, as her back arched, and coiled her legs tightly around Zack’s hips. Neither of them want to disconnect, this friction and heat between them was so overwhelming, and so wonderful, that they were eager to feel how this would all finish.

While his thumb continued to play with Ray’s pulsing clit, his other hand grasped tightly onto her hip to keep her anchored in place during their gyrations. Their bedroom echoed with the sound of their bed springs creaking, passionate moans, the mixing of their essence, and the collision of their bodies. Isaac watched Rachel’s reactions to everything that he was doing to her, from gazing at the bouncing of her breasts to the changing of her expressions from lustful to shy when she screamed too loudly in pleasure. If being alive in Zack’s presence pissed him off when it came to other people, it was an opposite effect for Zack, it turned him the fuck on.

The more he propelled his hips inside of Ray, he can finally feel that familiar bodily signal of his apex, no more teasing to coax those climaxes out of him - he was in control now. A growing pressure was building at the base of his spine, his muscles were tensing up - from abdomen to his balls, and a lingering and hot tingling within his core knotted with every push he made inside of the woman. He just needs to keep the piston motion to increase this sensation further, feed it, until it couldn’t hold back any further.

‘Close...so close…’

‘He’s getting bigger!’

Rachel can feel the strong throbs against her walls, as well as an expansion of his girth. Her legs wrapped even tighter around the man’s body, telling him to fuck her deeper if he was going to cum - since she was in no position to tell it to him.

Isaac eagerly complied, pushing in as deep as he can go, until he pressed firmly against that tender sweetspot. Ray threw her head back with another sharp gasp, her hands grasped tightly at the bedsheets, while her vision blurred into a heavenly white again. Zack groaned out his own sound of bliss as Ray’s body clamped tightly around his intrusive member again, the man shuddered from her own quiverings vibrating on him, which made his need to continue pumping into her difficult. The combination of her juices and his semen dripped down his shaft, as the pace was no longer consistent as he wanted it to be. With a few swift pumps, a slow or even a harsh slam buried himself deep within Rachel.

Closer...closer…

Zack can feel his consciousness tease right at the edges of reality, ready to fall at any given moment.

His moans grew strained, almost choking out his pleasured groans, as the pressure was increasing. No longer was he savagely pumping into her, but desperately slamming his stimulated cock deep into Ray’s drenched sex. Each thrust feels like it could be it, that final push that sparked his orgasm. With a few more hard pushes, instinct finally told him to hold onto Ray’s hips tight, holding her against himself tightly, and to keep himself fully sheathed. A grunt hummed out from his throat at first, until a heavy growl followed after words. Rachel can feel Zack’s thrumming inside of her, until Zack’s expanded girth suddenly pushed out a strong flow of his milky seed. The woman inhaled a pleasured gulp of breath, and rolled her hips at a better angle to help Zack fill her up. She tilted her head back, with a blissful whimper as the sudden gush of thick warmth entered her again; splashing inside of her, filling her chamber, before another eruption poured itself inside, and overflowed what was already stored. Now, her tight, penetrated entrance was leaking with his sticky semen again. Seeping out from their connection, and trickling a small trail out.

Both lovers panted heavily, Rachel knows he wasn’t entirely spent yet, and held onto Zack as instinct made the man automatically roll his hips to ease out the remaining drops from inside himself. With one more deep push, Zack finally dropped the upper half of his body upon Rachel, obviously needing to regain all that stamina spent into this heated affair.

Zack’s legs were shaky, especially when he tried to move himself onto the bed to rest beside the woman, Rachel helped the man shift into a comfortable position, even though this meant her reluctance to finally break their union from each other. Isaac’s spent cock slid itself out, with a string of his sperm and her juices being the last bridge of their connection. His member was no longer maintaining hardness, as the length was slowly softening back into rest position. Once the man was plopped back onto the mattress, Rachel can already feel an abundance of Zack’s release threaten to spill out. Their bed is already a mess, especially after riding Zack so hard - laundry will have to be a part of their to-do list today. The woman crawled onto the bed with Zack, and cupped his face into a tender kiss.

“Merry Christmas, Zack...that was a wonderful gift.”

“Heh...don’t need to ask twice if you liked it...you screamin’ the way you did was obvious enough,” Zack teased, then kissed her in return. “Merry Christmas, Ray…”

Such a simple gift, but also quite a surprise, Zack may keep that silky ribbon to use for another time if he wanted to surprise her yet again.

#time to dick the halls...I-I spelled that right didn't I?.docx #didn't meant to not update in a while #so many fics and sins to write XD

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