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janitorhutcherson · 5 months

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Marked Only for Me (Olderbf!Mike Schmidt NSFW)

hii!! okay, i have never written smut before, so i am begging you all to plz be patient with me! this is very long, so my apologies.this is a part of my olderbf!mike series, so hope u guys likeee. also, for this let's make the assumption mike went to college and all of that before his security jobs. he just had burn out and was there, hence why he's working for a major company with what would be little experience. anyways, lmk what u think!

summary: mike comes home and needs to blow off some steam

warnings: nudity, sex, name calling, hair pulling, choking, marking, possessiveness, an implied free use situation, fluff at the end!!

word count: 2,925

nsfw after the cut!!

You were sitting at the kitchen table doing homework in the home you shared with your boyfriend, Mike. You're 20, a couple of years into college, drudging through math problems that make your head feel like it's sitting inside a frying pan. You had to admit this wasn't your ideal way to relax after a 10-hour shift at the bookstore you helped run. Things had been hectic with Black Friday, your store doing a special sale where everything was 50% off, and bookworms were coming out of random corners to fill their already overflowing shelves for cheap. Of course, being younger, you were the one who had to do the grunt work, carrying piles of books to and from inventory, dealing with the more demanding customers as your older coworkers would tell you that they "just couldn't handle kids these days" and that it'd certainly be better for the younger one to do it. Luckily, though, Abby was at a friend's house, meaning you didn't have distractions. You were as focused as could be with a cup of coffee beside you, the sunlight that was once beaming through the cracks of the blinds now completely gone. You were focused, your brain functioning as much as it would with the problems. Things were quiet.

...That is until Mike stormed in. He was frustrated, angry, an invisible red-hot aura beaming off him. His hair was messier than it typically was. The softness in his eyes was instead replaced with a cold look. His eyebrows were furrowed together on his forehead, his jaw sharp and defined as he gritted his teeth. Although this wasn't common, it wasn't necessarily rare either. Mike worked for a publishing company as a marketing manager. He'd gotten the job after a few months of hard work to make up for the slack on his resume after working at the mall and the pizzeria. He moved up the ladder quickly, his company admiring his friendly attitude and his somewhat shy but personable behavior. He loved his job much more than his past ones. He felt happier, got more time off, was less stressed, and was definitely safer. Even with that being said, sometimes shit just pissed him off.

Today's big issue was a meeting with his marketing team, which also involved the big guy over his head. He felt like he was criticized, demeaned, dragged through the mud, and all in front of the team he was supposed to be respected by, listened to. On a typical day, this might not have pissed him off so much. He might've mentally plotted the demise of his boss, but he wouldn't have caused the outburst he did at work, and today had been particularly awful. He'd been late, burned his breakfast, knicked himself while shaving, and even gotten into what he considered to be a little fight with you the night before. Even though you'd both settled the argument, made up, and kissed before bed, he had been thinking about it all day. He'd then spilled coffee on his brand new tie, leaving a stain, and then... that happened. Mike snapped. He yelled at his boss, showing his ass in front of everyone, causing a meeting in his boss's office to end with an inevitable write-up.

Now, he was home, trudging in all his bad energy, disrupting your study time. You couldn't even be frustrated with him, his demeanor proving he'd obviously had a bad day. You went to stand up to greet him with a hug, a kiss or two, but before you could, Mike stormed over to you, grabbing your arm harshly. You gasped, slightly thrown off by his sudden actions. He pulled you closer to him, his eyes locked on yours and his breath heavy against your neck.

"What the fuck, Mike?" you said, your eyebrows furrowed as you stared into his cold brown-green orbs.

"Listen to me," he grunted, his voice low and gravely. "I have had a very, very bad day, and I need you to be a good girl for me, okay? I don't want no shit, no back talk, you'll listen to what I say.. do you understand?"

His hand still gripped your arm, his fingernails digging into your skin. You could feel yourself starting to drip, your panties feeling damp against your skin as your body buzzed with excitement. All you could do was nod your head, your eyes locked on his as they clouded over with lust. Mike snapped his fingers in your face, looking at you from underneath his eyebrows.

"Use your words," he demanded.

"Yes sir, I understand," you stuttered out, your cheeks flushing red. Mike's face was now pleased, his entire demeanor softening a little. His hand stayed wrapped around your arm as he tugged you into the living room, pushing you roughly onto the couch. You huffed from the impact, your eyes widening as Mike dropped to his knees before you. He slid your sweatpants off, prying your knees open to reveal your see-through pink panties soaked beyond belief. His eyes were hungry, his mouth open, almost drooling as he looked directly into your eyes.

"All for me, babydoll?" he teased, his hand sliding in between your legs as he drew small circles around your clothed clit. You nodded your head as a whimper escaped your lips, the aching in between your legs only growing worse.

"What did I tell you?" he said, his words sharp as he smacked the inside of your thigh.

"Yes sir," you corrected, your words wavering after the impact from his hand. Mike nodded, satisfied with your answer, as he slowly slid your panties down your thighs, wasting no time. You gasped once again as the cold air hit your wet cunt. Mike exhaled sharply, taking a moment to admire you in front of him. His eyes trailed up to your pathetic look, your already-glazed-over eyes, down to your barely clothed chest, only a sports bra covering your breasts he loved so much, then down to in between your legs, where you were so wet, and all just for him. His lips trailed up to your tummy, sucking on the skin in different areas, from above your abdomen all the way up to right below where your sports bra stayed, purple marks forming.

He then dove in without hesitation, his large hands gripping your sides as he leaned in, moving one hand to take his index and middle finger to spread your pussy lips. His mouth instantly attached to your clit. You yelped as you bucked your hips forward, his lips meeting the sensitive area. Mike pinched your thigh, a sign to quiet down until he said to do otherwise, two of his fingers reaching out to be shoved into your mouth.

“Suck,” he demanded, his fingers going as far back down your throat as they could. You did what you were told, sucking on his fingers and drawing your own circles with your tongue. His tongue drew tiny and slow circles against the set of nerves, your hands reaching down to tangle in his hair from desperation. God, he loved eating you out. The way you yelped, quivered, shook underneath him, your hands tangled in his hair to keep yourself from going over the edge. He fucking loved it, you were the perfect cure to his anger, calming, something he could take it out on in a productive way that made everyone feel good. Your whines were suppressed as you bit your lip, your teeth digging into the softer skin. Mike pulled away for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once again as he admired your face, your now swollen lips.

“You know what, baby? Be as loud as you want for me now, princess,” he mumbled, going back to attacking your wet cunt. Slurping sounds filled the living room mixed with your moans and whimpers as his tongue slid up and down your slit, his lips wrapping around your clit to suck as hard as possible when his tongue wasn’t fucking inside of you. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. His cock was rock hard inside of his work pants, his own face flustered as he rocked back and forth against himself. His tongue continued to lap at your clit as he slid two of his large fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them. You could feel yourself drawing close and Mike could tell. Your thighs attempted to clench around his head, but before they could his calloused hands pried them open, holding them apart. Just as your eyes began to clamp shut, your thighs shaking as the knot in your stomach started to untie, Mike pulled away. You gasped as he slipped his fingers out, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared at him with an angry glare. He chuckled as he stood up, raising his eyebrows up and down as he leaned down, his hand lifting your chin up.

“Poor baby, was all ready to finish for me, hm? You were gonna be ‘Mikey’s little slut,’ weren’t you? That’s what you tell me you are, right? My little slut?” he teased, no remorse behind his eyes. You huffed, punching his arm before crossing your arm, too out of it to say anything from the knot that remained in your stomach but too angry to take initiative.

“Awh, don’t be mad, princess,” he snickered, shaking his head as he leaned further down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “You really think I’m done with you?”

With that being said, Mike pushing you back on the couch. His right hand held you down as his lift struggled to unbutton his pants. He pulled his pants down, letting them fall around his ankles as he yanked his boxers off, his cock springing out. He stepped out of them, letting you go for a moment to unbutton his shirt before tossing it off as well. Mike then looked over to you, leaning forward, ripping your thin sports bra off of your chest, your breasts now exposed to him. He licked his lips, excitement overflowing his body. He crawled on top of you, attempting to make the two of you fit on the couch. His mouth attacked your nipples, biting and gnawing at your skin. His mouth moved up to your neck, sucking and prodding and biting until purple marks were left all around, ones you were all too aware would be impossible to hide later on. He moved down to your chest once again, marks all across your collarbone, your tits. Mike’s hands gripped onto your neck as he sat up, looking into your glossed over eyes. He pressed his lips to your ear, a soft kiss against your earlobe.

“’M about to fuck you so hard you see stars,” he said, his voice causing prickles to cover your skin. Then, without hesitation Mike slammed into you, his pace staggered. Your moans were as loud as could be, the sound of skin hitting against each other and the echoes of both of your voices filling the living room. His thrusts were sloppy as he felt himself starting to get close to the edge, his hands pushing your hips down and into the couch. Your entire body sunk into the cushions as he used everything in him, his cock abusing your poor cunt. You swore you saw stars until you felt his hand gently smack against your cheek, your eyes averting back to his gaze.

“You’re gonna look at me when I fuck you, princess,” he growled, his hand sliding up to your hair as he tugged. You grew close, clenching around his length, your thighs starting to shake. Your core was threatening to come undone.

“Fuck, Mikey, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum,” you whimpered out, closing your eyes as your head leaned back against the side of the couch.

“Cum for me, baby,” Mike stated. You did as he demanded, finishing around his cock as your liquids gushed against him. His thrusts grew sloppier before he pulled out, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“You’re such a good girl, you know that baby? You did so good for me, listening to what I said, letting me use your pretty cunt,” he stated, his thumb caressing your cheek. He then resituated, pulling you off the couch, pushing you onto the ground. You were now in the same position he was in earlier, completely fucked out. Your lips were dull from exhaustion, your cheeks red and your hair knotted in certain areas. Mike’s cock was directly in front of you, his hand guiding for you to suck on him. Your lips wrapped around his tip, the tip of your tongue licking his slit. You worked your mouth down his length, licking the sides. Mike’s moans became frantic, desperate as your mouth worked its magic. His hand tangled in your hair as he pushed your head up and down, thrusting up into your mouth.

“That’s it, baby, feels so good,” he grunted. With no warning, Mike pulled out, spilling his load all over your face. He twitched, his moans loud and low, your tongue stuck out to catch his cum. His body laid against the couch, feeling heavy as his head leaned against the back of his couch. A tired grin was on his lips as you also smiled up at him, licking yourself clean. Mike looked down at you, a chuckle releasing his lips. It was obvious all of the tension and anger was gone, as his once cold eyes were once again the soft loving brown they used to be. He looked at you with adoration, always amused by how gorgeous you were even after rigorous activity and getting your face painted.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, picking you up bridal style as he leaned down to kiss you, not caring about his own load that was now on his face. He sat you down on the bathroom counter, grabbing a washcloth out of the cabinet, running it under warm water. He started to wipe away all of the liquids covering your face, pressing kisses to your skin here and there, looking your body up and down as he admired all of the marks he left.

“You always know how to make me feel good and how to take care of me after,” you croaked out, your voice laced with exhaustion as you smiled. Mike smiled back at you, his hand tenderly touching your cheek before pushing your hair behind your ear.

“I love you, of course I want to make sure ‘m taking care of you,” he said softly. His lips once again pressed against yours. “Thank you for letting me… you know.. blow off some steam,” he said, wiggling his brows.

“Of course, honey. I was worried, though. Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, leaning forward as you slid off of the counter, grabbing a new washcloth and beginning to wipe his face with it as well. Mike sighed, shaking his head as he looked at her with sad eyes.

“I just- I got into it pretty badly with my boss at work and got criticized, I felt like a wounded animal, like I had to fight. I’m so used to having to fight that I don’t know how to shut up and listen,” he mumbled. “It was so bad, Y/N, and I got written up after that awful day I had this morning… I just.. I don’t know. I do know I feel better now, and would feel even better if we cuddled for a bit and then went out for food?” he suggested, spilling his thoughts to you. You giggled, nodding your head as you reached up to press a kiss to him. You dragged him into your shared bedroom, the two of you cuddling up together under the blankets. You turned to your side, your eyes locked with his.

“I love you, Mike, so much. And I’m so, so unbelievably proud of you. Thank you, for always making me feel good too, for taking care of me, for being such a good brother to Abby, just… thank you,” you said softly. Mike looked back at you lovingly, his appreciation for you apparent.

“I love you, princess, you don’t even know how much,” he mumbled. His eyes were heavy. He leaned over and set an alarm for an hour from now, the two of you planning on a night of dinner out and grocery shopping. He curled his arm around you lazily, your body limp and exhausted against his as you yawned.

“Oh, and baby?” he asked. You hummed, lifting your head to meet his eyes. “Wear a crop top when we go out, I want everyone to see you all marked up.” You giggled as you laid your head down, drifting off to sleep.

When you two went out, you did just that, wearing a cropped scoop neck shirt with a low-rise flowy skirt. He showed off any marks you’d left, too, your possessive boyfriend holding you close anytime someone’s eyes linger too long. Mike was strange, possessive, and sometimes a little of what most would say was unsettling, but to you, he was the love of your life, the man who made you feel good, the one who fucked you until you couldn’t think. You loved him, and you always would, blessing you with a lifelong supply of angry sex and aftercare cuddles.

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your-highnessmarvel · 5 months

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Repairs

Requested by @talesofreading : Would you write something where you're a close friend of Steve and one time as your Bike needs some repair, he tells you to bring it to Bucky as he's good in fixing it. You're hesitant first as you have a bad crush on him but you decide to do it. So when you get there he's wearing a muscle Shirt, is all dirty and Looks pretty hot with his metal arm. So after you watch him fix your bike you can't resist the way he also Looks at you, so it happens that you end up in his shower together with some passionate smut. Later then he asks you for a proper date? 🤭

AN: omg this was sooooo good to write omg

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, piv, oral (f receiving), fingering, language

*gif not mine

MASTERLIST

"Yep, totally busted," Steve said, looking back up at you from where he knelt next to your smoking bike.

You put a hand to your sweaty forehead. Both of you had been at this for the better part of the afternoon, trying to figure out what was wrong with your motorcycle. Steve was in his white wifebeater, stained black from oil and grim, nails coated in dirt. He'd sweated right through his shirt and even his jeans were full of mud and dirt.

You'd sweated your fair share as well, competing with dirt under your nails and sweat right into your hairline. you didn't look any better, but you didn't care; this was your best friend, after all, and you had no reason to try to impress him.

"You know what?" Steve said, putting his tools back into his box. "You should go see Bucky."

You immediately rolled your eyes.

"He's good with bikes, y/n," he commended, seeing the way you shook your head.

"Is this another ploy to set me up with your grumpy best friend?" you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

Steve got to his feet, dirt-stained hands going right into his pockets. "I mean it, y/n," he said, almost scolded. "I'm not as savvy with bikes as he is. He'd do it if you said I sent you."

"Then come with me!" you said. "Every time I'm alone with him, there's this awkward silence and all he does is grunt as a response."

Steve smiled. "I wish I could come, but I've got a date," he answered.

"Yeah, right," you grumbled. You watched him carefully, your best friend and mentor, and something along the edges of his eyes was curious.

He was shy.

"Who is she?" you asked.

He shrugged. "A girl that I saw at the library." He cut that off pretty short, picking up his tools, his towel, and throwing the keys back at you. "Now, get to Bucky's before it's nightfall."

Bucky lived way out of the city, into the utopian suburbs. You found it funny that this was the life that Bucky chose. After everything you'd heard from him, you'd pictured him in a dingy, half-lit, half-crumbling one-bedroom in Manhattan. Not in the outskirts of the city.

Thank God your car could pull a trailer, or else you'd have had to ask Bucky to meet you at your place, and that just wasn't happening. The thousand-year-old soviet asset was known to be a judger of literally everything.

You pulled into Bucky's parking space, the garage to his tiny little house open, like a black mouth ready to swallow you in. By this time, it was nearing four in the afternoon, and the sun was searing, hot and humid, and with just a foot out of your car, you were already sweating.

You closed the door loudly, maybe trying to announce your presence so you didn't have to knock on the door.

"Hey." It was Bucky, coming out of the shadows of his garage. It took you a second to get the hinges in your jaw to work because, damn.

You'd always thought of Bucky as a man who passed as good looking. Well, when you met him, he was still in heavy therapy and on government surveillance. He still had long, matted brown hair and a face dragged down by sorrow.

But now. Now he'd taken to cleanly shave his hair, leaving a few inches of thick, curling locks on top of his hair, not totally covering his ears. And even though he was slimmer than the last time you'd seen him - he hadn't been working out as much - he still looked... better. Real better.

"Hey," you said, awkwardly waving at him. He was carrying a white rag, cleaning his hands from oil or dirt or whatever else he'd been doing. "Steve said I could come to you if I had problems with my bike?"

He pursed his lips. He came closer, out of the shadows and into the mid-afternoon sun, and you got a good glimpse at him. Golden skin, scars matting his hand, his knuckles. He was wearing a muscle shirt, the kind that was maybe a bit too small for him, molding to his muscles, straining across his metal bicep.

You'd never really seen the arm before. Only flickers of his hands or fingers, but never the entire machine.

You licked your lips, something squeezing in your lower belly.

"What's wrong with it?" he asked.

you shrugged. "Dunno."

He glazed his eyes, rolled them. "Alright, take it down and bring it into the garage."

With a tiny sigh of resentment - he wasn't helping you - you unlatched the ties of your bike and rolled it into the garage. it was darker, a little cooler, inside. As you settled your bike in the dead center of the room, Bucky brought two stools, effortlessly carrying them around.

He sat on his and motioned with a wrench for you to sit beside him. Even though you'd sweated all day in your black t-shirt, and God knows whatever he'd down today, there was something terrific about sitting this close to Bucky.

His tanned fingers worked to open up the bike, his metal hand working the wrench.

"Ah," he said, poking around the engine. "I see what's wrong."

"Is it fixable?" you asked.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, darling," he whispered.

You swallowed the heat climbing up your throat, watching him get to work in silence. Unlike Steve, Bucky didn't tell you what he was doing or why; he just did it.

It took longer than expected. And the more he worked, straining against your bike, the sweatier he got, the more figetting you did.

His flesh arm was glistening with a thin layer of sweat. His hand was veined, strained against the metal piece he was holding aside. His fingers were dirty with grime and dust. Even that God damned muscle shirt was stained with dirt and sweat and grime.

By the time he was done, a light sheet of rain was coating the ground outside. It was pitter-pattering against the cement, a slow drone of rain against the tin roof. Almost comforting.

"You can't take your bike out in the rain," he said, putting everything back in its place, stowing his tools and his rags.

You gulped. "Yeah, I'm sure the rain will let off soon." You dragged your sweaty palms onto your jeans nervously. It caught Bucky's eye.

He stood, dragging your eyes up to his figure. He was so tall, so wide at the shoulders, sweating in his shirt, hair a mess.

"I've got beer inside," he said, throwing the rag in the corner of the garage, placing his tools on his self-made wooden desk. Then he turned to you and gestured to the front door. "Come on."

You followed him out into the rain, walking quickly up the steps and into his home, which smelled of him, something woodsy, and air freshener.

You were humid, rain dotting your skin as you took off your sneakers and followed him into the kitchen. The air conditioning was making you cold.

his home was cozy but so boyish. No decorations but a huge TV. A grey couch with not pillows or blankets. Empty liquor bottles as props over the refrigerator, which droned on and on. There was only one magnet on his fridge, and it read "I love NY!" Which was ironic because Bucky didn't love anything.

"Here," he said, offering you an ice cold beer, but it did nothing to warm you up. You leaned back against his kitchen counter, sipping on your beer, watching him poke around the inside of his fridge. The yellow light cast on his face like a glow, and he hummed when he found what he wanted.

By the time he took out the rolled up cheese, he saw you shivering by the sink.

"I'm sorry," you said, settling the beer down. "I'm just a bit cold from the rain."

He hummed, slamming the cheese rolls on the kitchen table.

"We ought to warm you up," he said, diving back into the fridge to get a beer, which he opened and took a five good gulps before he wiped his wet mouth.

"Yeah," you chuckled, pressing your hands against your arms, searching for heat.

The super soldier, immune to any heat or cold or anything really, stood before you with his sticky muscle shirt molding to every nook in his muscles. His arms, his chest, down to his abs. Water had made it almost see-through, and you felt like a perv watching as he breathed, watching his muscles contract beneath the fabric.

"You should take a shower, y/n," he said, tone low.

You startled, eyes dragging from his abs to his face in a split second. Did you smell? Was that why he'd said that?

"You're shivering, poor thing," he said, clucking his tongue, taking another wild swing of his beer. And you noticed that he was eyeing you took, at your jeans sticking to your thighs, your hips. At your wet shirt glueing to the curve of your waist and breasts.

He set his beer down and offered his hand. "Come."

On some instinct you'd never registered before, you took his hand, flesh fingers warm and calloused.

He led you into a small bathroom with no windows. where various male paraphernalia was strewn across the sink. He pulled the shower curtian back and started the shower and you just stood there like a fish out of water; mouth slightly agape, your hand still loosely holding on to his.

"Bucky?"

He hummed.

"I don't get it," you said.

He returned his gaze to yours, satisfied with the steam rising from the shower. He gave you a small, tight smile. "Get undressed," he said, gesturing his chin at you, dropping your hand.

You stood there like a statue, examining him; from the hard jawline, the seriousness in his eyes, the way his skin pulled back when he moved his mouth.

Then, harder this time, "Get undressed or freeze, sweetheart."

The nickname, the pet name, sent a wave of fresh heat right into your face.

He watched, then slowly, he smiled. Like a rpedator trying to win its prey without having to sink teeth into flesh.

He took a tiny step towards you, watching your breath hitch, and he slid metal fingers under your shirt, pulling it up until it came right off your head. Your hair flopped back down over your shoulders, covering your bra.

He bit his lip. You watched, entranced as he moved to unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs. He was agile because he took your panties off with it.

He came back to his full towering height, and he brushed your hair behidn your shoulders, exposing your chest, your full flesh to him.

He snaked an arm around your waist, and you gulped, the feel of his hands, burning metal fingers, was like a lightning bolt had erupted under your skin.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, close to your ear, his breath in your hair. "So fucking gorgeous." He slid his metal hand up and then your bra was sliding off your arms.

"Let me touch you, y/n," he whispered in your ear. You gulped, nodded. "Use your words, sweetheart," and his voice was rugged, wretched, as both his hands slid careful fingertips up on your ribcage.

"Yes, Bucky," you whispered.

He huffed against you. And then his metal hand engulfed your breast, knead it the way he wanted, and his lips found your neck. You whimpered, taken by surprise by his sudden act of devotion. His tender fingers pulling your nipple, drumming against your ribs, lips leaving a wet trail of kisses up your jugular.

When he kissed you, his mouth was warm and wet, and he molded his lips to yours carefully, like he didn't want to scare you off.

You kissed him back just as carefully, confused and distraught, unaware that for years, Bucky had been yearning for this opportunity. For this moment where he finally had you alone.

Quickly, the kiss became rougher. Your hands pulled at the soft, thick strands of his hair and he pulled you aainst his with his metal arm around your waist. He nipped at you, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, groaning as his flesh finger felt you.

He skimmed along your navel, until he could cup you in his palm. You squeaked, taken by surprise. "Easy there, princess," he whispered against your mouth. "Just wanna make you feel good."

He dove right back for a kiss, delving his tongue behidn your teeth while his fingers started working circles around your clit.

You had realized how riled up he'd gotten you, like a hardwire ready to snap.

You bent like a bow in his arms, moaning against his mouth as his fingers continued to circle your clit in slow, languid circles. And when he prodded farther, where you most ached for him, he moaned against your mouth when he felt just how soaked you were.

"Fuck, y/n," he groaned, pulling his mouth from yours.

You almost whimpered at the lost of contact, but he picked you up so effortlessly, so quickly, that you hadn't registered that you were now sitting on the edge of the sink until you couldn't see him anymore. All you could see was the steam rising from the shower, clogging the bathroom, settling on your skin in dotted water drops.

And Bucky, on his knees, pulling your knees apart. His eyes, hooded and so blue, looked up at you as he kissed the inside of your thigh.

"One leg on my shoulder, baby," he ordered, his metal hand under your thigh, helped you move until you were almost straddling his face. "That's it, good girl," he groaned, biting into the plush of your thighs.

The angle sent you backward, back against the cold mirror, and one hand hanging onto the edge. Ready to plummet or fly, you couldn't tell.

His mouth teetered around your pussy, kissing along your thighs, until he settled over your clit and gave you one long swipe of his tongue.

Your head fell backwards, eyes closing, hips searching for his mouth.

"You taste so sweet," he cooed, pressing another long lick from your hole to your clit.

A strangled moan escaped your clenched teeth when he sucked on your clit, one of your hands digging into his hair and pulling him where you wanted him.

The room was filled with the filthy sound of Bucky getting his fill, lapping you up and sucking in your clit like a man starved. Both hands leaving ink-blue marks in your hips.

He worshipped your clit, flicking and sucking to a rhythm that had your thighs shaking against his face, with you pulling his hair by the roots. He sucked and fucked your hole with his tongue until a knot formed right under your belly button and exploded in white hot lightning.

As your orgasm washed through you in waves, rocking against his face, a moan hitched in your throat.

Bucky held your thighs open, refusing to let them close, and lapped up his fill.

When you were but a trembling, babbling mess, Bucky it into your thigh, kissing up your knee until he was standing between your legs. His eyes were hooded, pupils blown, mouth red and glittering, swollen from the kisses he'd lain on your clit.

"Come 'ere," he groaned, grabbing you by the back of the neck, bringing you upright on the counter. He brought his mouth to yours in a feverish, harsh kiss that left you dizzy and scrambling to keep up with him.

You pushed him away, grappling at his shirt, pulling it over his head. You gorged on the sight, on the tanned skin exposed, the scar where his metal shoulder meshed with his flesh. You touched the tips of your fingers to his metal shoulder, skimming down to his hand.

He took your mouth again, pressing you back into the mirror, hands in your hair, on your breast, skimming down back to your dripping hole.

He entered one flesh finger, pressing against your walls, so slippery and warm. He hummed, feeling your breasts against his chest as you bowed your back at the sensation.

You patted him through his pants, feeling him warm and hard against your touch. He hissed at the sensation, nipping at your mouth.

He continued to move his digit in and out of you, pressing his palm to your clit. You continued palming him, pressing against the impressive length of him until he groaned and took himself out of his pants, dropping them at his ankles and kicking them away.

Your mouth opened in a small 'o' at the sight of him, hard and thick, tip dripping precum.

"Too much for you sweetheart?" he asked, pressing his forehead to yours, thumbs on each side of your jaw.

You shook your head, gulped, saw the faint smile that crossed his face. He watched you with keen eyes as he lined himself with your soaked heat.

He pressed his thumb against your mouth, kissing you, as he slowly inched in. He watched you take it, watched as your mouth opened, brows curving upward.

"Don't give up on me baby," he whispered, nipping at your mouth, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your jaw.

He slid himself to the hilt, grabbing your hip in a bruising grip, metal hand pressed against the foggy mirror over your head.

You gasped, latching onto his shoulders for dear life as he pulled back and thrust back into you, feeling you clench and flitter around him.

You whimpered, body pressing up against the mirror with one harsh thrust from his hips.

"That feel good, huh?" he asked, boring his eyes into yours, keeping a slow, languid pace with his hips. "Tell me, y/n, that feel good when I fuck you?"

You nodded, feeling him slick, sliding into you with ease, stretching your walls and hitting that spot deep in you that made you writhe.

"Yes, Bucky," you answered, breathlessly, scratching at his flesh shoulder.

He groaned, taking your mouth with his, speeding up his thrusts, making your head catch on the mirror. You moaned against his mouth, giving up full control of your body to his, at the mercy of every thrust, every change in rhythm.

"Taking me so well," he grunted, hiding his face in your shoulder, bruising grip on your hip helping him thrust himself deeper into you. Then he pulled himself up, face hovering over yours, searching your gaze wildly. "You like it when I fucked this tight little hole?" he asked, and again, his tone was scratching the surface of something wilder.

You nodded, feeling a knot form in your belly, your thighs closing around his hips. His mouth stretched into a smile, pounding deeper and faster into you. "Yeah, you do," he said, almost mockingly, pressing a sweaty forehead to yours. "I see the way you always look at me," he grunted, kissing your mouth, humming at the moan that left your lips.

"Bucky, please," you whispered, eyes falling shut, your orgasm on the brink of breaking.

"I feel you, y/n, come on," he grunted, keeping a harsh, pounding pace until your legs shook and your orgasm broke through you in waves. "Fuck, that's so tight," he breathed, chasing his own end, pounding into your tightening hole.

A stuttered moan left your lips as you clung to Bucky, rocking into your orgasm with every thrust, feeling the wave of pleasure reach your toes. His metal hand came slamming onto the mirror beside your ear, cracking into the glass as he pounded into you, breathless and wordless until he gave you a few sloppy thrusts and he was spending himself in you.

He stayed there a few moments, breathing with you, kissing you softly until he pulled out of you. You stuttered, a breath hitched in your throat, as you felt him leaking out of you.

He met your gaze, leaning back to examine his work, and then he slowly helped you to your feet. You giggled at your loss of coordination, hearing Bucky chuckle too as he helped you into the shower.

You let the warm spray wash his seed from the inside of your thighs, soak into your hair.

"Warm enough?" he asked, chin on your shoulder.

You chuckled. "I've been warm enough for a little while."

He hummed, placing both hands along your waist. He helped you wash up, lathering your skin and hair, helping you wash out the suds.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pressing tender kisses to your shoulder. "You're quiet."

"Yes," you answered, looking over your shoulder at him. "Are you?"

He smiled, eyes low. He raised his brows. "I am now," he whispered.

When you were done with the shower and you were both drying up, Bucky tied his towel around his waist and watched you put your hair up in a towel.

"What?" you asked.

He snorted. "It isn't like me to do...this," he said, leaning against the sink. His chest was wet, glistening spots lingering down to his abs. It was enough to make you want to do this again.

You smiled but didn't answer, focused on getting your towel around your torso.

"Do you want to go out to dinner sometime?" he asked, and you looked up, met his eyes across the steamy bathroom, and smiled.

"Yeah, of course."

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky smut #bucky x you #bucky x yn #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #smut #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #the winter soldier

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adore-laur · 5 months

Text

GET OVER HERE

— i don’t know what the plot of this is 🫶

——

Your phone's default ringtone goes off from its place on the coffee table. Your eyes shoot up from the book you're reading, and you see Harry's name appear, along with your lock screen, which is a candid picture of both of you. After bookmarking the page you were engrossed in, you reach forward and slide your thumb across the screen to answer.

"What's up?" you say, holding the phone to your ear.

"C'mere," Harry murmurs lowly on the other end.

You screw your face up and absentmindedly pick at a loose thread on your pants. "Why?"

"Because I need to discuss something with you."

A scoffed laugh escapes your mouth. He's literally in the room next to you, getting ready for the show, so you ask, "Can't you just text me or tell me right now?"

He's comically silent before uttering an innocent, high-pitched "No?"

You sigh loudly and rise from the comfy couch. As you hang up, you leave the lounge and traverse down the hall. It takes precisely seven steps to reach his private dressing room. The door is wide open, with aromatic cologne and quiet melodies wafting through.

Harry is the first thing you see. He's sitting comfortably in a canvas chair with only a towel around his waist and socks on his feet. The counter in front of him is a mess with hair products, cosmetic brushes, and face creams scattered on the surface. His phone lies on his lap, which means he's been talking to you on speaker.

You clear your throat, which causes him to turn his head and look at you. "What did you need to discuss with me?"

He meekly smiles. "Hi."

"What do you want?" you rephrase impatiently, wanting to return to your romance book. It was just getting steamy!

"Come closer," he says, glancing you up and down.

You notice that he hasn't moved his hands away from his face. They both unnaturally cup his cheeks, and you can't figure out why.

"Why are your hands like that?" you ask with suspicion.

His eyebrows scrunch together. "Like what?"

"You're being weird."

"We're not doing this," you say, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Tell me what you need, or else I'm walking away. I have a book to finish."

Harry keeps his hands on his face and curls his pinky finger to beckon you closer. "Get over here."

Your heart flutters when he says it in a way that implies you might be in trouble. You rack your brain for anything that could have led him to call you and have you come to his dressing room.

As you slowly tread to him, his eyes don't leave yours. When you stand in front of him, his legs spread in invitation, and he says, "On my lap, baby."

You do as he commands and sit on his left thigh. One of his hands moves from his face to rest on your waist while the other stays put. He hasn't put his rings on yet, so his fingers feel bizarrely bare on your skin.

"What?" you whisper, your gaze curiously dancing over his face.

Harry leans back in his chair. "Wanna know why I'm covering my cheek?"

"Yeah. I've asked that already."

"Don't get sassy with me."

You swallow nervously. "Did you cut yourself while shaving?" you guess, knowing it's happened a few times before.

"Nope," he replies, tapping his fingers against his cheekbone. "Try again."

You purse your lips and ponder. "Hmm… do you have a zit?"

Harry runs his tongue across his teeth, obviously not amused. "You're on a roll today, aren't you?"

"Just tell me," you breathe out as your shoulders slump.

"You," he says while jerking the leg that you sit on, "gave me a hickey the other day. Right on my jaw where everyone can see."

You roll your lips in to try and hide your smile. "I'm so sorry."

Harry removes his hand, revealing a brownish-red mark on his jawbone from when the both of you were in a hotel suite in Tacoma. It's a known rule not to leave marks, especially since it's common for him to be photographed in the cities he visits. You take all the blame. You couldn't help it, really — it's nice to be a little greedy sometimes.

"Now I have to tell my makeup artist to cover it up," he mutters, his hand squeezing your ankle. "I have to come up with a stupid excuse and tell them that I punched myself or something."

You laugh. "That's a terrible excuse."

He tilts his head to the side and gives you a blank stare. "Oh, is it? Then would the culprit be so kind as to help me out?"

"Just say, I don't know, that you got hit by something thrown on stage."

Harry blinks three times before saying, "That's… actually a really good idea. Okay, you can leave now. Your work here is done. Discussion over."

You lean closer and whisper, "Where's my reward?"

He gives your ass a salacious squeeze. "Meet me in our suite tonight after the show. Better be on your best behavior."

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles #adore-laur #get over here

741 notes · View notes

catoslvt · 9 months

Text

Gally (TMR) x Reader

Death cure based with major spoilers.

You and gally were together back in the maze. It's been 3 years since he "died"

This is very long, but there is smut at the end 😜

As I stare at the masked man, I can't help but recognise him, well obviously not his face because he's wearing a gas mask, but I recognise his posture, his body language, just generally the vibes he's giving off, and it reminds me all too much of Gally.

But that's impossible, Gally died, I watched him die. I let him die.

As the van we were forced into goes over a small bump, it annoys me only more.

"Sit there all mysterious then." I grumble as I cross my arms and glare at the three of them.

"Are you guys just gonna sit there all mysterious, or are you gonna take those stupid masks off?" I spit at the three masked men, mainly aiming it at the one that resembles Gally, and Thomas and Brenda turn to me and let out small laughs whilst the masked men stay silent and continue to stare at the three off us.

Once we were let go from the vans, Jorge stumbles out of one of them, pinning down one of the masked men and hitting him across the face repeatedly.

"Where is she!?" He screams as I walk around him to reach newt, I know it's bad to have a favourite best friend, but Newt and Brenda are most definitely mine. He was there for me whilst I coped with Gallys death, and he never scolded me for grieving an "asshole" but gally wasn't an asshole, he was just misunderstood, I understood him though, and he understood me.

"Who are you?" Thomas asks as I wrap newts arm around mine and drag him to stand beside Thomas.

"Don't worry, we're all on the same side." The man says, and although his voice is muffled, it sounds like Gallys voice.

"What do you mean, all on the same side? Who are you?" Thomas quizzes, and suddenly the man takes his mask off, and my jaw drops.

"Hey, greenie." Gally says with a small smile, and my knees feel weak as I go to stumble backwards, but Newt quickly catches me, and in the few moments my eyes leave gally, Thomas has him on the floor hitting him.

"Frypan, hold y/n." Newt says, and frypan quickly holds my arm as Brenda clears her throat.

"I'm so confused. Who is he?" Brenda asks frypan and he shakes his head.

"My boyfriend." I gasp, and Brenda turns her head to stare at me, and I just shrug.

"An old friend from our maze." He tells her and I shake my head.

Once Newt has dragged Thomas off gally, I stare at him and he smiles at me.

"Hi y/n." He laughs, and I push frypan off of me and run to gally, pulling him in a tight hug as the tears begin to stream from my eyes.

"I thought you were dead." I cry as my arms tighten around his neck as his arms slowly make their way around my waist, and I just take a deep breath, taking in his new all too familiar but also unfamiliar scent.

"Without saying goodbye to you? Never." He whispers, and I just laugh before I remove my arms from his neck and cup his face with my hands.

"Holy shit it's actually you." I gasp as I stare at his face, it's been three years since I last saw gally, and as much as he's changed physically by shaving his hair, putting on more muscles, growing taller and well obviously aging, he's still the boy I met all those years ago in the glade.

"It's you too." He laughs before I roll my eyes and kiss him, and he kisses back before Brenda claps, and I awkwardly pull away from gally and stand beside him, facing my friends as Brenda smiles and shoots me a small thumbs up, she's heard every single detail about Gally and I, she heard every detail about gally himself probably over a thousand times, to the point where she said it feels as if she knows him personally.

"Why are you guys here anyway? Wckd is after you lot, like majorly." Gally asks as he looks at Thomas with his eyebrows raised slightly.

"We need to get into Wckd. They have Minho." Thomas answers and gally lets out a small laugh.

"Do you know how dangerous that is?" Gally asks and Thomas furrows his eyebrows.

"Look gally, can you help us or not? We need to get back to our camp soon, and if you're not helping us, then we're leaving." Thomas states, and I grab gallys hand and glare at Thomas, in a way that says,'I'm not leaving him.' And Thomas rolls his eyes slightly, but I just shrug him off as I turn my head to stare at gally with a smile and all the feelings come flooding back, all the feelings from when I was just a silly girl who didn't know anything, now I'm still a silly girl who knows quite alot after everything I've been through.

"Fine." Gally says as he grabs my hand and drags me deeper into wherever we are, Thomas and everyone else following us.

"After the maze, I got picked up by a group headed to the city." Gally tells us, as he's now at the front of the group, and I'm now walking with Brenda, still smiling at the fact my boyfriend is alive..

"They realised I was immune, patched me up, then brought me here. Lawrence. This group has been at war with Wckd ever since they took control over the city, but wckd couldn't hide behind those walls forever." He continued and I stare at him, Thomas or newts head ocasionally getting in the way but I don't care, even just being in his presence is enough to keep me smiling.

"The days gonna come, and they're gonna pay for what they've done." He finishes before he turns around to stare at the group.

"Listen. He doesn't get a lot of visitors, so let me do the talking, alright?" Gally asks, and we all nod.

"And try not to stare." He then adds which makes me scrunch my nose in confusion but we all follow him into the room anyways.

The room is a beautiful room filled with all types of flowers.

"Gally, glad to see you made it back. Jester told me what happened." The man exclaims as gally sets his gun down and walks towards the man.

"It was a slaughter. There was nothing we could do against those guns." Gally tells him as his hands reach up and sit on his vest, his fingers sliding underneath.

"No, but they can only poke a hornet nest for so long before they get stung." The man whispers as he raises a red rose to his nose and smells it, as Brenda, Newt and I all shoot each other a small 'what the fuck?' Look.

"Who are these people? Why are they here." The man asks, or more demands.

"we need to get into Wckd." Thomas says as he steps forward, ruining gallys full 'let me do the talking' rule, which makes me glare at him slightly.

Don't get me wrong, I love Thomas, but he thinks he's the leader of the group. All he thinks about is Teresa, really, Brenda is so clearly head over heels for him, but all he talks about is Teresa.

"Gally said you could get us through the walls." Thomas then adds and Gally just stares at him, clearly slightly annoyed.

"Gally should know better than to keep promises he can't keep." The man says, and I let out a small laugh, but I quickly stop myself before anyone turns to look at me.

"Besides, that wall is only half your problem." The man continues as he grabs the rack that is pumping something into him as he begins to walk to us.

"Getting inside wckd is impossible." He finishes and gally shakes his head.

"There might be a way now, but it doesn't work without Thomas." Gally announces.

"Is that so? You know what I am, Thomas? I am a businessman." The man says, leaning close into Thomas' face to whisper those last words

"Which means that I don't take unnecessary risks, why should I trust you?" The man asks and Thomas just stares at him.

"Because I can help you. You see if you can get me through those walls I can get you what you want." Thomas says and I turn to Brenda confused but she just shrugs her shoulders.

"So what is it that you think I need?" The man quizzes.

"Time, every last drop." Thomas states and the man turns his head to the side almost as if he's laughing.

"Is that something we both need?" The man sneers, and Thomas just continues to stare at him, almost as if he's staring through him.

"Wckd is something we both want." Thomas tells him, and he man just nods.

"I'll tell you what, two can go for now, the rest stay down here with me. Just a little insurance to make sure you'll find your way back." He tells Thomas and everyone in the group look at each other and shrug.

"Do we have a deal?" The man asks Thomas as he extends his hand for Thomas to shake, which he does, and he man just smirks.

"Gally show them the way." The man then says before gally quickly shoos us all out of the room and shows us the entrance to Wckd, which is a literal sewer drain,and I stare at gally with a smile as he lowers a ladder down into the drain, I quickly crouch on the floor next to him as he drops to the floor ready to climb down.

"Gally, take care of these two." Frypan says and gally just nods.

"Yeah." He says before he looks at me.

"Stay safe, don't get lost or hurt." I warn him and he smiles.

"Cmon y/n, you know me." He says before he kisses me and begins to descend down the ladder, and I smile and watch him go down, smiling to hide the nerves.

As one of the now non masked men lead Brenda and I into a room, he stands at the door with his arms crossed.

"This is where you'll be sleeping whilst you stay here." He says before he slams the door and leaves, and Brenda throws herself onto one of the single beds, me copying her actions.

"I can't believe I finally got to meet Gally." She says with a small laugh.

"You can't believe it!? I thought he was dead! I watched him die." I tell her with an even larger laugh and she just nods.

"You must really love him if when you saw him, you still knew the love for him was there." Brenda tells me and I just smile.

"The love for him never left, I had plenty of opportunities to find someone else, like when I was captured by Wckd there was a few boys who showed interest in me but I couldn't stop thinking about gally, in the glade I thought i loved him, but when I lost him that's when I realised I did love him." I quietly say, and she just stares at me, but then shakes her head.

"But, you thought he was dead, so why didn't you move on?" She quizzes and I shrug.

"I asked myself that almost every day, but a part of me knew he wasn't dead no matter how bizarre it sounded to say out loud." I tell her and she just smiles widely.

"I'm really happy you've got him back y/n, I could see how much you loved him when you spoke about him." She tells me with a genuine smile on her face.

"Even with him back, it doesn't mean I won't spend time with you. You're still my best friend, Brenda, you know that. You know i love you." I tell her, and she laughs.

"I love you too, not as much as I love Thomas, though." She says and I just laugh

As we sit around the table with paper spread all over it, Thomas shakes his head.

"Nope, there's got to be another way in." He says and gally laughs.

"But how? You've seen the building, she is our only way in." Gally states as I stare at him.

"You really think she's gonna help us?" Thomas asks but my gaze then falls on newt who looks as anxious as ever as he plays with his fingers.

"I don't plan on asking for her permission." Gally laughs and Brenda clears her throat.

"Am I missing something? This is the same girl who betrayed us, correct? Same dick?" She scoffs and gally looks at her with a smile.

"I like her." He tells us as he points at Brenda before he looks at me and smiles.

"What's going on?" Brenda quizzes as she looks at Thomas, and I can see the anger growing on newts face, somethings wrong with him, I can tell.

"What are you afraid that your little girlfriends gonna get hurt? Hmm?" Newt growls as he stares at Thomas through knitted eyebrows.

"This has obviously never just been about rescuing minho." He continues and I nod my head.

"Exactly." I agree, but nobody listens apart from gally who just chuckles.

"Who are you talking about?" Thomas asks as he approaches newt, who quickly slides off his chair so him and Thomas are both at eyelevel with each other.

"Teresa." He spits as if her name was poison.

"I mean, she's the reason Minhos even missing in the first place, and now we finally have the opportunity to get him back, and you don't want you because of her?" Newt asks as he's walking directly into Thomas, so Thomas has been pressed against the wall. If a deaf person was watching this play out, they'd definitely think that something else was going on here.

"Because keep down inside of you. Do you still care about her? Just admit it." Newt grumbles.

"Newt, no." Thomas answers and Newt grabs both of Thomas' shoulders and pins him tight against the wall.

"Don't lie to me!" He screams.

"Don't lie to me." He then spits and Brenda and I slap a hand over our mouths in usion, each for different reasons.

She did it out of shock, I'm doing it because I'm trying not to laugh.

Newt quickly steps back and shakes his head.

"Sorry." He mumbles.

"Sorry." He then says as he turns to face us all, and I remove my hand from my mouth and stand up from my chair and quickly approach him.

"Are you alright?" I ask and he just stares at me before he walks out, and I turn to everyone in the room, mainly pointing at Thomas though.

"I'm gonna go speak to him, I'll be back in a minute, alright?" I say to the group and everyone nods before I follow newt, quickly realising he's heading for the roof, and as I follow him I watch as he sits down and dangles his leg off of the building, clutching his right hand with his left.

"Newt, what's wrong?" I ask as I slowly sit next to him, my words coming out gentle, as I don't want to startle him. He says nothing and instead pulls up his right sleeve, revealing black veins, which you only get if you have the flare.

"I should've told you sooner." He mumbles, and as I stare at his veins, I feel tears brimming my eyes, but I quickly blink them away as i smile at him, trying to act fine even though inside I was breaking.

"No, no, newt, it's okay." I say as I grab his left hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm happy you told me now." I say and he just nods at me.

"We're gonna get you the cure, okay? You're gonna be alright." I whisper, and he sadly smiles as he blinks away his own tears.

"Can you get Thomas, please?" He asks, and I nod but pull him into a tight hug.

"I really love you newt, you're my best friend, keep fighting for me, I'll get you better." I say as I stand up and run downstairs back to where everyone is and tell Thomas that newt wants him, and once Thomas is far enough away, I burst down into tears, nobody knowing why until I tell them.

"He'll be fine y/n, you know newt. He's a fighter." Gally says as he pulls me into a tight hug, his hand on top of my head as he gently plays with my hair.

"We're gonna get him the cure when we get into Wckd." Brenda calls before her, frypan and jorge all join in on the hug, which makes me let out a sad laugh as I hold onto them all.

Once I've calmed down, gally just grabs my face and stares at me, like I did when I first saw him again.

"I've missed your stupid face." He says with a large smile, and I just glare at him.

"I miss your hair." I cry as I stand on my tip-toes to feel at his now bald head which makes him scoff.

"It'll grow back." He remarks, and I sigh as I then burst out laughing.

"Actually, I think I prefer this hair." I state before Gally pulls me into a kiss, making frypan gag.

"Can you guys make out somewhere else!?" He screams before Thomas quickly runs in.

"I'm going into Wckd, gally you need to come with me, were getting Teresa." He states, and just like that, gallys gone.

Only an hour later, we all stand in front of Teresa, gally Ripping the bag off of her head as we all glare at her.

"gally?" She gasps but gally quickly quiets her by talking.

"Here's how this is gonna go. We're gonna ask you some questions, and you're gonna tell us exactly what we need to know. Well, start off simple. Where's minho?" Gally asks as he grabs a chair and slams it backwards in front of Teresa so that the back of the chair is facing her as he harshly sits down on it and throws his arms over the backrest.

"You guys seriously don't think -" She says as her eyes fall past gally and onto Thomas, which makes gally laugh.

"Don't look at him? Why are you looking at him? Look at me. He's not gonna help you. We know you have minho in the building. Where?" Gally demands, and I let out a quiet gasp as my knees feel weak when I hear how demanding gally now is.

"he's with the others we're holding. At level three." Teresa answers.

"How many are there?" Newt asks, and Teresa gulps.

"twenty eight." She tells us, and we all turn around to Brenda as she plays with cards.

"I can make that work." She tells us happily with a smile.

"No, no, you guys don't understand the whole level is restricted. You can't get in without a thumbprint ID." Teresa states, and Thomas stares at her.

"That's why you're gonna come with us." Thomas tells her, and I stand up from where I'm sitting and grab the scalpel that's on the table and begin walking towards Teresa.

"Well, I don't know. You don't necessarily need her, right? Not all of her. We just need her finger." I sneer, an evil smile growing on my face as I almost pass gally, but he holds an arm out, so I bump into it, him signalling I'm taking it too far.

"y/n back off." Thomas warns from behind me, and I turn to him and glare.

"What are you squeamish? I guarantee you she's done much worse to minho." I question, and he points a threatening finger at me.

"Not the plan back off." He warns yet again, and I groan and give gallys shoulder a comforting squeeze before I walk back to the table and hand Thomas the scalpel.

"it won't make a difference. Do whatever you want to me. You still won't get through the front door. The sensors will pick you up." Teresa says, now clearly panicking after the scalpel comments I made.

"we know. We're tagged, property of wckd. You're gonna help us with that, too." Thomas says as he holds up the scalpel.

As I sit on the chair in front of Teresa as she pulls my shirt down at the back of my neck, her fingers carefully graze my skin.

"Try to relax. This is gonna sting." She says slowly before gally walks over and gives me a warm smile before crouching on the floor in front of me.

"I don't want to see you flinch. You're my tough girl y/n remember." He says with a smile, and I nod, I remember.

As I run out of the maze, tears pouring from my eyes as I grab tightly onto minhos shoulder, trying my hardest to make it as far away from the maze doors as I can before I collapse, when i was running back from in the maze my leg got caught in one of the walls as it begun to move, i pulled it out but my ankle got caught and the wall got caught in it, making my ankle make the most deafening crunch noise you'll ever hear, and my scream got minhos attention as he spirited back and pulled my ankle free of the wall, and when I try to put my ankle on the floor I can't do it, so this is how minho has ended up carrying me back to the glade.

"HELP! Someone get Clint and Jeff!" Minho screams as he sets me on the floor, out of breath from running whilst practically carrying me.

Gally must've heard minhos cries for help, because he sprints over and falls to the floor next to me and when he looks at my ankle he gasps, and he's not even a medjack so it must be bad.

"Y/n, y/n, don't cry. You're my tough girl I don't want to see you cry." Gally warns as he presses a kiss to my head.

I'm snapped out of my memory with Teresa handing me a tissue.

"That's you done." She says, and I nod and get off the chair, allowing gally to climb on it as I sit on the floor like he done with me as I use one of my hands to dab the blood off of my neck using the tissue.

"How are you alive, gally? We watched you die." Teresa asks as she focuses on cutting his neck.

"I wish I knew." Gally says flatly as he reaches out one of his hands to cup my chin, lifting my face only slightly so he can stare at me, which causes me to smile and blush.

"I'm happy you two have each other again." She then adds and I laugh.

"We never lost each other." I say and gally begins to smile again.

When we all get ready for our plan, I smile at everyone.

"We're gonna kick Wckds ass." I exclaim as I do a small happy jump which causes frypan to laugh.

"Y/n, I've never seen you so happy to basically go on a death wish mission." He tells me with a smile and I shake my head.

"Nono, they're going on the deathwish mission, brenda and I are being the drivers." I say as I motion to Gally, newt, and Thomas with a smile.

As Brenda and I sneak our way into the carpark and climb on a bus, I stare around looking for any Wckd workers, but as of right now there's none so I smile slightly.

"Why did we agree to this?" I ask with a small laugh, and Brenda gives me the 'you know why' look and I just stare at her confused, I really don't know why.

"I just thought that if Thomas saw me doing something this brave, then he might actually like me." She sighs and I gasp.

"Thomas should like you anyway! You don't need to risk your life to be good enough for some boy." I state, and she shoots me a thankful smile.

"I wish that was true." She whispers and I shake my head.

"Brenda, you're already the bravest girl I know, you survived the fucking flare for god sake! That's braver than this." I tell her as I grab her shoulders and shake her.

"You're braver than me." She argues, and I shake my head yet again.

"It's not a competition, Brenda. If Thomas doesn't like you for you, then he's not worth it." I say as I give her shoulder a tight squeeze and she then smiles widely at me.

Minutes later, gallys voice rings through the walkie-talkie, asking where we are, and instantly, as he turns the corner, he almost runs face first into our bus, which causes me to laugh.

"Come on let's go!" I exclaim as Brenda opens the doors and the kids begin running in.

As I run to the other door and open it, I stare at gally confused.

"Where's Thomas?" I quiz and he stares at me confused.

"I was hoping he was with you." Gally says and I quickly step out of the bus, but gally grabs me and pushes me back in.

"No y/n, stay with the kids, wait here. I'll find him." He promises, and I just stare at gally, but quickly pull him into a kiss, which makes a few of the kids giggle before I break the kiss.

"Just wait for us, okay." Gally says as he pulls his mask down and then runs off.

I quickly climb on the bus as panic fills my stomach, I can't help but to think that something is gonna go wrong.

"Everyone, alright?" I ask as I turn to all the kids in the bus who just stare at me but all nod.

"I'm y/n, my friend who'll drive the bus is Brenda, were not a part of wckd and were here to take you somewhere safe, alright?" I ask, and all the kids cheer before Brenda gasps.

"Get down!" She exclaims, and I drop to the floor, all of the kids ducking in their seats.

"Stay quiet." She whispers, and i crawl next to her and watch carefully as armed guards approach the bus.

"Sorry, Thomas." I hear her say before she quickly jumps in her seat, me coping her because I know she's about to drive and i don't want to fly to the back of the bus.

As the bus starts, she screams to everyone to hold on as she begins to drive, bursting through barricades as she navigates the city seats, Wckd cars now driving behind us.

"We're fucked!" I yell as I let out large fits of laughter whilst all the kids behind us scream extremely loud.

"You'll all be alright! Just hang on!" I scream to them as Brenda continues to swerve and drive around.

"Jorge is a shit driving instructor." I tell her through large laughs.

"Oh yeah? Didn't he teach you how to drive too!?" She asks, and I just nod.

But whilst we're driving, Wckd cars behind flying at us from all angles and Brenda swerves the car, and now I'm panicking aswell as the kids, but we come to a stop on the middle of the road, and Brenda exits rhe car whilst I stay with the kids.

"We're gonna be alright guys, this is our plan." I tell them all, and they just let out worried cries and whimpers.

Our plan is set in motion once Brenda let's off her flare and connects the rod to our bus and screams to everyone to hold onto something, seconds before the bus is lifted into the air, dangling by the front as we crash into buildings and spin around.

But my laughing comes to a hault when I realise that the rod is slowly but surely Ripping the bumper off of the bus, meaning we're going to fall.

As we all begin screaming and crying, frypan quickly drops us, which sends us hurdling to the ground, but we don't actually fit the ground until the rod fully rips the bumper off of the bus, and the bus lands on the backdoors, until it tips forward and Brenda and I quickly motion for all of the kids to climb out and follow us, but first we had to wait on frypan.

Once we run back to Lawrence's lair thing, we run around trying to find everyone, but nobody is there.

"Where is everyone?" Frypan quizzes before him and Brenda take off in a sprint, leaving me with all the kids, I love taking care of kids, I think kids are funny.

"Is everyone alright?" I ask as I turn to stare at them, and they all nod.

"Thank you for saving us." The youngest boy of them all says, and I stare at him and smile. He reminds me of Chuck.

"Nobody deserves to go through what they put you through." I tell him with a large smile as I crouch down to his size, and he laughs and hugs me, which almost makes me cry as I hug back.

As we pull the kids into the main part, Thomas begins to talk through the walkie-talkie, but she's too far for any of us to hear, so I divert my attention to the kids again.

"Our safe space, is gonna be perfect. Much better than anything Wckd had." I promise as I look at all of them.

"Really?" A girl asks and I nod.

"Mhm, so much better, and you guys can help with building it. You can design your own rooms and pick who you want to share a room with. It's completely up to you." I say, and they all clap and cheer, clearly excited for this promised safe haven I'm talking about, and I hope it'll be as good as I'm making it sound.

"Will you be sharing a room with that boy you were kissing?" A different girl asks with a small 'oooo' rising from all of the other kids.

"Maybe, if he doesn't annoy me." I tell them and they all laugh.

"I used to share a room with him, well more of a hammock, and he always used to steal the blanket from me during the night so I'd wake up freezing." I groan and all the kids continue to laugh.

"Did you get them back!?" One gasps and I nod.

"I pushed him out of the hammock and took all of the blanket for myself." I answer.

Suddenly, I hear an aircraft outside and I run to check it out with Brenda and Frypan, and I realise Jorge has brought our ride, and all the kids quickly run out after us running inside, where we see Vince, and once we've flown near the tunnel we fall back down to the ground waiting for everyone to come, but they don't. So we all run out of the aircraft to see the Wckd city getting burned down.

"We can't stay here Brenda." Jorge states as he turns to her.

"Don't worry, they'll be here." She argues as she shakes her head.

Only seconds later, I hear Teresa's voice ring through the speakers, and I'm practically sick hearing her talk. Even though she helped us get into wckd, I hate her, I don't even listen to what she has to say. I just block her out.

As we get back into the aircraft I play around with the vial of the cure around with my hands, being careful not to drop it, when minho and gally run at the aircraft.

"Where's the serum!?" Minho yells, and I hold it up in my hands, and I instantly know what I have to do, I instantly begin running through the Wckd city, missing bullets only merely and jumping through fire as tears stream down my face, I need to get this back to newt, even if it kills me in the process.

As I twist and turn through alleys and different streets being so close to them, my ankle begins to hurt, as in the ankle I hurt four years ago by now, but I push through it, only to turn the corner and see newt, dead on the floor, Thomas crouched over him.

"No!" I scream as the tears begin to pour harder as I sprint to newts side, dropping to my knees on the floor as I cup newts face with one hand and shake his shoulder with the other.

Thomas says nothing as he stands up and walks away, giving me time to give newt the serum, but it doesn't work. He doesn't wake up and laugh, he doesn't even blink.

"Newt no, please. Please!" I scream as frypan, gally, minho and Brenda surround us.

"Y/n, he's gone." Brenda says from behind me, and I shake my head.

"No please! He's not gone the serum just hasn't kicked in yet." I cry as I continue to shake him.

"Newt, it's me y/n. Please wake up, please." I beg, although it's obvious he's dead, but it was also obvious gally was dead, so why can't newt come back too.

"Y/n, come on we need to go." Minho says through his own tears.

"No, I can't leave him here. What if he wakes up!?" I exclaim, my sadness now turning into anger towards everyone.

"You know he won't y/n, he's dead." Brenda says from behind me.

"He's not fucking dead!" I scream as I continue to shake him, my tears blinding me as everything continues to go blurry, as I feel my body being hoisted up off of the floor.

"Y/N, if we don't go, we're going to be burned alive." Gally says sternly as he throws me over his shoulder.

"Gally, please, no! I can't just leave him here!" I scream as I begin to thresh against gallys hold, but he's too strong.

"Y/n, it's okay." Brenda coos and I shake my head.

"No! You're all sick. You're leaving him here to be killed!" I scream, but I feel someone hit me over the head with something and everything goes black.

When I open my eyes, the room is so painfully bright that I let out a small groan as I shield my eyes from the light as I sit up and take in my surroundings.

"Y/n?" I hear Brenda say from beside me as she begins to stir from a sleep. And I turn my head to the side and see her sitting up and rubbing her eyes, and I realise I'm in a hospital room.

"Where am I?" I ask and she smiles and reaches out to grab my hand.

"We're in the safe haven y/n." She tells me with a large smile, and I just nod before she quickly stands up.

"I should go tell gally you're awake." She says before she runs out, leaving me questioning why my stomach is all bandaged.

When gally walks in, his eyes light up when he sees me.

"Y/n, are you alright?" He gasps as he quickly runs and sits on the edge of the hospital bed, pulling me into a hug whilst being careful of my stomach.

"What happened to my stomach?" I ask as I hug back.

"When you were running to give newt the serum, you got shot. We all noticed, but somehow, you didn't. Your adrenaline was too high. So when you were screaming over newt, making your heart race, it was pumping more blood out, but you still didn't realise." He tells me and I just stare at him and nod.

"I didn't want to knock you out, but I had to. Otherwise, you would've died due to blood loss, im sorry." He frantically tells me, and I sit up and rest my head on his shoulders.

"You saved me gally." I whisper before I gasp, which hurts my stomach, but I shake it off.

"So we're at the safe haven now?!" I exclaim and gally nods as he stands up.

"You want to see hm?" He quizzes before he takes my hand and carefully stands me up before he shows me around the safe haven, and I stop at the rocks with everyone's names carved into it, my heart stopping when I see Newts name, but my eyebrows raise in shock when I see Teresa's name.

"Teresa died?" I ask as I turn to gally.

"Saving Thomas, actually." Gally says as he slings an arm around my shoulder.

"Well shit." I whisper as I begin to feel bad for all of the grief I gave her after she betrayed us, all for her to die saving Thomas.

Suddenly, my eyes fell on minho, and I realised I totally forgot we saved him, so I ran at him full speed, throwing my arms over him in probably one of the tightest hugs ever.

"Careful there." He says as he hugs me back, also being careful of my stomach.

"It's good to see you again." He then tells me with a laugh and I just nod.

As we all sit around the bonfire, all of us, Vince begins to speak.

"We've come along way together. So many people sacrificed so much to make this place possible." He begins.

"Your friends." He continues, and our group all look at each other and smile, all of us nodding in agreement.

"Your family." He adds, and Brenda looks at me, as I turn to face her from infront of her, gally and I sitting infront of her, minho and Thomas and she grabs my hand, and she mouths 'my sister' which brings a few tears to my eyes.

"So here's to the ones that couldn't be here." Vince continues as he raises his glass, and tears begin to spill when I think of newt.

"Here's to the friends we lost." Vince says as I raise my glass high, everyone doing the same.

"This place is for you. it's for all of us." He continues and gally looks at me, and when he realises I'm crying, he wraps an arm around my waist pulling me closer to him.

"But this, this is for them." Vince says as he points at the rocks with everyone's names on them.

"Welcome to the safe haven!" Vince then screams and we all clap and cheer, and from the corner of my eye I see Brenda and Thomas kissing, which makes me snap my head to them, letting out a large 'What!?' Which makes everyone around us laugh, before I taste whatever in my cup, and I let out a massive gasp which takes all the oxygen out of my lungs.

"It's your drink!" I scream to gally, and he nods before pulling me into a deep, meaningful kiss.

"It sure is." He says with a small smile before we go down to the front with Vince and start the massive bonfire, where we all talk and laugh all night, but gally is way more touchy, infact he's toucher than ever tonight.

"You know, we have our own room now, no more sharing a hammock in front of everyone." Gally says once the bonfire has died down and there's hardly any people around us.

"Wait, really?" I ask happily, and he nods.

"Yeah, would you like to see?" He quizzes, and I nod.

"Are you sure you won't mind leaving the bonfire?" He asks and I just shrug.

"Hardly anyone here now anyway." I say, and he grabs my hand and leads me to our room, which I just gawk at.

"Holy shit it's so nice!" I exclaim as I jump on the bed, only paining my stomach a little bit as I smile, and gally copies me, but he grabs my waist and pulls me on top of him, pressing small kisses to my lips.

"Gally." I say with laughs in between kisses, yes sure gally and I have made out before, but this is different, I can tell it is.

And I'm really not complaining.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asks as he leans his head into the pillows to break the kisses.

"No." I state as I smile at him.

"Good." He tells me before he flips us around so he's on top of me, which makes me blush, and I slowly feel a pit in my stomach growing, and I feel myself becoming wet.

"God, you're so gorgeous." Gally mumbles before he presses lips against mine, this time not breaking it, and instead, he deepens it by pushing his tongue into my mouth, which causes me to let out a small moan.

I can't remember if I've ever done anything like this before the maze, but if i have, it'd be really weird seeing as I would've been like fourteen or fifteen.

Gally smiles into the kiss as his hand slides under my shirt and makes its way to my bra, where he gently gropes my tits through the fabric of the bra, which only makes my moans slightly louder.

"You like that, hm?" Gally quizzes with a small chuckle before his lips make their way to my neck, as he begins to suck and bite it gently.

"Oh my god, gally." I groan as I wrap one of my legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer, but he's clearly still being careful of my stomach.

When gally stops kissing my neck, he looks up at me as he takes his hands off of my tits as it makes its way down to the button of my jeans, and I quickly kick off the sliders I'm now wearing, god knows where my trainers are because I wasn't even wearing this outfit when I last remember being awake.

"I missed you so much, yknow, not a day went by that I didn't think of you." Gally tells me as he unbuttons my jeans and unzips them, my breath hitching when he begins to pull them down my legs, his eyes not leaving mine.

"I always thought of you every day. I knee you were alive." I say to him, and he smiles at me.

"Oh yeah? What did you think about?" He asks before he pulls down my pants and slowly presses a finger to my clit, gently rubbing circles on it.

"Oh god- I thought of us. What would've happened between us if you lived." I tell him, moaning after almost every word, I'm a full virgin, like I've not ever even touched myself, I mean, how could I? I've never been left alone.

"Oh? What would've happened if i made it out with you guys?" He teases as he raises one of his fingers to his own mouth and carefully sucks it, before he slowly slides it into me.

"I had always thought that we could've got married or some shit, no matter how fucked the world was." I tell him with a small laugh and he smiles as he slowly begins to slide his finger in and out of me, causing me to turn into a moaning mess.

"And what about this? Did you ever think about us doing this?" Gally teases as he adds another finger into me, causing me to throw my head back into the pillow.

"Yes, oh fuck yes." I cry as his fingers reach deeper into me and its true.

"When?" He asks with a small smirk.

"All the time at night in the glade, I used to think about us sneaking into the deadheads and just doing it there, and then the night where I first saw you again I wanted you there and then." I tell him.

"Awh." He coos before he kisses me, and I shake my head and break the kiss.

"Gally, I want you." I whine, and he smirks at me as he pulls his two fingers out of me and sliding them into his own mouth, still maintaining eyecontact with me as he removes his fingers from his mouth, and his hands begin to work on his belt, but I swat his hands away and begin to unbuckle his belt myself, and once his belts fully gone, I take off his jeans, and then his boxers, and I audibly gasp when I see his cock.

I always knew gally was big, we had changed infront of each other before and I always saw the outline of his cock against his boxers, but now that its there infront of me, I'm gobsmacked.

"If it hurts, or if you want me to stop, just tell me." Gally warns and I nod as I lean back into the pillows and spread my legs as gally positions himself ontop of me as he begins to position his cock directly with my enterance.

"Are you still sure you want to do this?" Gally asks, and I carefully grab his face and nod.

"I'm sure gally." I promise and he nods before he slowly begins to push his cock into me, and I bite down hard on my lip.

It hurts. Don't get me wrong. But it feels absolutely perfect. I squeeze my eyes shut once he's fully inside of me, and I let out small moans when he lets out a small grunt.

"Is this okay?" He asks, and I moan and nod as he begins to thrust in and out of me.

"Fuck, it feels perfect gally, faster please." I beg and I watch as he nods as he begins to thurst faster into me, reaching deeper each time which sends me into full bliss.

"Do you know how much I thought about this?" Gally groans as he continues to thrust into me, going at a pace that's comfortable for both of us, and it's absolutely perfect, I stare at gally with a smile as I continue to moan, my eyes not leaving him.

"My handsome boy." I quietly say to him, and he looks at me with lit up eyes.

"You think I'm handsome?" He asks, his thrusts getting slightly faster.

"I think you're the best-looking boy to ever exist, gally." I tell him truthfully, and he presses a hand next to my head on the pillow as he stares down into my eyes, he's sweating slightly now.

"I think you're the most beautiful girl. Nobody could compare to you." He states and I smile weakly, his words pushing me over the edge as I come undone, gally quickly groaning and pulling out just intime to cum on my stomach.

"I love you gally." I sigh as he presses his forehead against mine.

"I love you too. I'll love you forever." He promises with a weak kiss to my lips.

#fanfic #fiction #romance #writing #wattpad #gally tmr x reader #gally tmr #gally maze runner #tmr gally #gally x reader #gally x y/n #gally #tmr smut #gally smut #will poulter #will poulter smut

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niabridges · 15 days

Text

You Look So Good In My Colours

Warning: MDNI. 18+ 🔞 EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT Word count: ~3800 Pairing: Sebastian Sallow | FemReader

Additional warnings: Rough sex, slapping, possessiveness, submission

We all had a Quidditch Seb fantasy at some point. Here is just me letting out some steam in that direction. Read below or on AO3

Her eyes flew open, heart pounding. Had she imagined it? The warmth of his body pressed against hers, the phantom weight of Sebastian’s arm around her waist... Her fingertips brushed the empty space, still warm, and a shiver ran down her spine. She buried her face in his pillow, breathing deep, the faint scent of his cologne a bittersweet reminder.

She stretched, blinking through the canopy, vision blurring then snapping into focus. Ominis stood by the basin, his usual focus now bent on the careful ritual of shaving. “Morning,” she managed, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

“Morning, dove.” He didn’t turn around, his attention on the razor’s glide.

“Thanks, as always, for…” she trailed off, cheeks warming. How to explain the strange intimacy they’d fallen into? “...for everything.”

Ominis chuckled, a low rumble. “Blind, not oblivious, love.” Still focused on his task. One hand held his chin, the other meticulously dragging the razor across his pale face. “Besides, who am I to begrudge a girl in love a bit of nighttime comfort? Just don’t tell Sebastian I said so. I am keeping a stern attitude with him, otherwise, he’d have you over each night.”

She laughed, tension easing. “My lips are sealed.” Stepping closer, she couldn’t resist the study of him – the focused line of his jaw, the faint dusting of stubble. “Here, you missed a bit. May I?”

“Thanks, love.” He handed her the razor, and a jolt went through her as their fingers brushed. Carefully, gently, she finished the task, his warmth so close. “You’re better at this than Sebastian ever was,” Ominis murmured leaning down to splash his face in cold water.

“Speaking of which, do you happen to know where he’s sauntered off to?” she asked as Ominis finished patting his face dry.

“Slept in, shamefully,” he admitted. “Not a peep from Sebastian. Odd, that.”

“Slept like a rock myself. Had the nicest dream, though I can’t remember it.” She tugged at her tie. “Ugh, Saturdays are for freedom.” With a toss, the tie landed on the bed.

Ominis straightened his robes. “Any plans for the day?”

“First, a proper wake-up with a bath... then I suppose I’ll try to hunt down Seb,” she shrugged. “What about you?”

“Prefect duties. Someone’s got to keep the chaos in check. Though I might just hide out with you two if you promise more of those… late-night ‘study sessions’.”

She laughed and playfully swatted at him, a blush warming her cheeks. “Must you tease? See you later, Ominis.” A lingering touch on his shoulder, then she was gone.

The common room hummed with the usual Saturday morning chaos as she emerged from the corridor – a heated whisper about a losing chess game, a burst of laughter from the first-years' corner. The air hung sweet with tea and candy. From the top of the stairs, where the seventh-year dorms spilled out, she scanned the scene below, hoping for a glimpse of Sebastian curled by the fireplace, lost in a book. But there was no sign of him, and a sigh escaped her lips.

She turned to enter her dormitory, relieved to find it empty. Then, Imelda’s Quidditch gear sprawled across the floor caught her eye. Of course! Sebastian must have left for Saturday morning practice. She’d find him at the pitch, but first, a bath was desperately needed.

Slipping into the bathroom, she ran a warm, bubbly bath, discarding her clothes in a haphazard pile. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced in the mirror and noticed tiny purple marks on her neck. Her fingers traced them thoughtfully, thinking back to last night's activities before she turned to lock the door.

Finally, she slid into the water, a sigh escaping her as the warm bubbles enveloped her. As she relaxed her hand instinctively ran over the bump over her wet foamy breast, the touch instigating a nipple to firm up, as her finger slid back over it she felt tingles running through her body. Flicking her finger over her hardened peak her thoughts were on Sebastian again. His musky smell, him towering over her, his greedy hands kneading her breasts. She gasped and bit into her lower lip.

Her other hand slid underwater to rub in between her aching folds. His voice rang like a deep melody inside her head “That’s it, my siren. Take it all.” And that chuckle of his, damn him. She began to tremble. Eyes tightly shut. The image of Sebastian was clear in her mind’s eye. With a combined effort of rubbing her nipple and her clit she felt a strong tremble rumble through her body. The slightest whimper and a moan escaped her lips as he came undone. Her heart aching to jump out of her chest. She exhaled leaning against the wall of the tub and relaxed, satisfied.

♡♡♡

“Eyes on me, for Merlin’s sake! That Bludger nearly took my head off!” Imelda barked, swooping closer to Sebastian on her broom. “What’s gotten into you, Sallow? I need you focused out here,” she demanded.

Sebastian snapped to attention. “Understood. Sorry.” He repositioned himself, wincing as the broom’s hilt pressed uncomfortably against his groin. Tight Quidditch trousers didn’t help matters either. He gripped the broom tightly, knuckles whitening. Then, a whirring sound from behind – he ducked just as a rogue Bludger whizzed past.

“You’re supposed to hit them, not dodge them!” Imelda yelled. “Bloody hell, Sallow, take five!” She snarled, flying off to regroup with the team.

Sebastian landed, sliding off his broom with an exasperated sigh. He'd been struggling on and off this morning with a particularly stubborn erection and was trying his best to hide that fact from his teammates. However, the ache seemed to worsen when his feet touched the ground. He groaned, feeling the weight and pain in his groin. Panicked, he quickly jumped back on his broom and zoomed toward Madam Kogawa's quarters. Thankfully, he knew she was away at the Ministry this weekend, leaving the quarters empty. He tossed his broom aside and, with a quick Alohomora, he entered inside.

When Imelda turned to scold him, he was gone, panting and leaning against the closed door. Bloody hell, all his blood seemed to rush to a singular spot, churning uncomfortably within him, making him squirm. It was all her fault. This morning when he'd opened his eyes, he'd immediately realized two things: he was running late for practice, and he'd woken up with a... pressing need. His body ached with desire, fueled by the warmth of her pressed against him.

To his great misfortune, this wasn't one of those fleeting morning wood situations. No, this one had persisted throughout practice – for Merlin's sake! He groaned, too afraid to even touch the bulge in his trousers. Carefully he lowered his hand. This was pathetic. Was he really going wank himself off in Kogawa’s office? Yet, he couldn’t go anywhere with his cock outlined against his trousers like that. Damn. Sebastian closed his eyes wishing the floor would open up and swallow him.

♡♡♡

She breathed the crisp spring air of fresh grass as she stepped onto the Quidditch pitch. Her eyes fixated on the group of green and white robes, and she quickened her pace hoping Sebastian would be among them. However, he was not.

“Hey Imelda, have you seen Sebastian?” she inquired, positively confused that he wasn’t at the practice.

"I was hoping you'd tell me," Imelda retorted, annoyance lacing her voice. “He was slacking all morning and when I told him to get it together, the knobhead ran away! Oh, the audacity!” she scoffed angrily.

“Ran away?” She asked, her confusion growing.

“Yes. Now, if you find him, tell him to get his arse back to the pitch right this second. I’m not finished with him!” Imelda growled, straddling her broom.

As she watched Imelda take off. She scratched her head, the absurdity of the situation dawning on her, as she started to walk back to the courtyard. Her eyes scanned for any sign of him. Maybe Sebastian wasn’t far away. As she exited the Quidditch pitch, she noticed a discarded Slytherin (his) broom near the entrance to Kogawa’s office. She smirked. There you are.

She approached the door and knocked gently, testing her luck. Silence answered from the other side. She knocked again, this time more firmly.

“Who – who is it?” She heard Sebastian’s startled voice.

“It’s me,” she chuckled.

“Oh,” the tone in his voice shifted. He stepped back to the door and unlocked it. When he saw his girlfriend standing there, he thanked the heavens, and a smirk spread across his face. “You’re just in time,” he said in a sultry voice.

He pressed his hand against his aching bulge and breathed in sharply. "Okay, this might sound weird, but I need to be honest. My… uh… lower regions are protesting. Loudly . All because of you.” She couldn’t help but laugh. "Don't laugh at me. I'm serious! I need release, or I might actually end up in the hospital wing," he groaned, pressing his hand against the trousers where his arousal was tightly confined.

She bit her lower lip, taking in the sight of him. “You could give me a taste of what’s been keeping you in such a... flustered state.” Her grin was wicked, eyes flickering between his trousers and his face.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Oh, a taste, you say?” He licked his bottom lip and stepped closer, grasping her hips and spinning her around. Pressing her back against the door, he murmured, “I'll give you a taste of my fantasies. But first…” His voice dropped to a husky whisper, “Please, let me have a taste of you.” He dropped to his knees, hands sliding her skirt tentatively up her thighs.

She shivered against the cool wood as he began placing feather-light kisses along her inner thigh, breathing in her scent. With each kiss, he worked his way slowly upwards. “Mmm, sweetheart, I’ve been a mess all morning,” he moaned into her skin, the heat of his breath raising goosebumps. “I’ve been bad,” he murmured. “Skipped my practice,” he mumbled as he teased her with tiny kisses against her sensitive area.

“Maybe I’ll have to punish you for that,” she purred, gazing down at him through her lashes, pressing his face closer between her thighs.

Sebastian chuckled, his fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, and a shiver ran through her as he slid them down, gently, yet with undeniable determination. He inhaled sharply, the scent of her arousal intoxicating him. Cursing under his breath, his eyes rolled back in his head as pleasure overwhelmed him.

Slowly, he gripped her thighs, bringing her glistening folds closer to his face, “Mmm,” he moaned “That’s what I love about you. You’re always dripping for me.” He slid his tongue inside slowly gliding up and down, savoring the juices. “Gods, you taste so good,” he growled against her flesh.

She quivered. Well-practiced ministrations of his tongue sent her into oblivion and her fingers tightened in his soft brown locs, pulling, tugging for a sliver of self-control. As if she ever had any when it came to him.

Sebastian moaned softly as she tugged at his hair. It spurred him to plunge his tongue deeper between her folds, adding a finger to slide over her nub in a thoughtful circular motion. His other hand fell to the front of his trousers, lazily undoing the laces. His aching erection finally sprang free. He palmed around his throbbing arousal while still keeping attention to the movements of his tongue. The growls against her skin created vibrations that deepened her moans and whimpers which in turn gave him valuable cues. With each flick of his tongue, he felt her tremble more. “Shh baby,” he ordered, “don’t come just yet.”

His thumb circled the tip of his cock, spreading the gathering precum around his length, but it somehow wasn’t enough. He moved his face away from her if only for a moment to glide his palm over her dripping pool, picking up as much lubrication as he could. He then coated himself with the juices of her arousal, gazing up at her with hooded, lust-filled eyes. That, right there , would make her come undone if she weren’t holding back, enjoying his little show.

“Look at yourself,” she grinned through soft moans while lazily rubbing herself. The sight of him on his knees drove her mad. Her eyes fixed on his form as he stroked his cock in long, languid motions.

Sebastian stood up, “I need to be inside you…will you let me?” he pleaded, voice dripping with desire. He wanted her permission.

“Yes,” she cooed, “ yes ,” she repeated and pressed herself back further into the door as he started to grind his hips against hers.

“Not here though…mmm, so many possibilities,” he breathed, his breath hot against her earlobe before he gently nipped it. “Perhaps I’ll have you on your hands and knees taking me like the insatiable little minx you are.” His fingers trailed teasingly down her spine making her shiver. “Or… I could lay you out on this desk and have my wicked way with you, watching your face contort in ecstasy,” he purred down her ear before his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “The only question is which position shall I ruin you in first?”

She melted in his hands, arching her neck, and exposing it to him. The anticipation of his bruising touch made her skin thrum. “...desk... the desk,” she choked out, lust overriding any sense of control. His own words echoed back to her: “Ruin me, Sebastian.” A whimper escaped her, a mix of shame and the desperate desire he’d coaxed forth.

Sebastian pulled her flush against him his length pressing insistently against her sensitive flesh. “Precisely, darling,” he purred, “I plan to fill every inch of you, over and over, until you can think of nothing but my cock buried deep inside you.” He relished in the sensation of how those words made her shiver like a twig in his arms. He ground his hips against hers with more fervor. “You’re going to be utterly ruined for anyone else…”

“Like anyone else ever deserved me…” she added, her insistent nods urging him on. With a swift motion, he scooped her into his strong arms, carrying her to Kogawa's desk. Parchments and clutter flew aside with a careless sweep of his hand, and he laid her down on the smooth wood.

“Oh you know me well, sweetheart, now…” his hands ran smoothly down her thighs, “let’s not prolong this any further.” His fingers glided across her slickness eliciting soft moans from her. He wanted to make sure she was thoroughly coated before rubbing some of her essence on his himself as well. “I am in pain, remember?” He groaned as he pushed himself between her thighs, his tip pressing insistently between her folds, he was about to…

“Wait,” she gasped, her hand pressing urgently against his chest.

“Sweetheart,” he growled, the guttural vibration of his voice a mix of frustration and desire. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I want…” her eyes fluttered and she bit her lip. “...I want you to fuck me in your Quidditch jersey.”

Sebastian closed his eyes, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “Ah, do you now?” His voice was a low rumble. “Take off your shirt.” She obeyed him. In one fluid motion, he stripped off his jersey, his toned, muscular physique rippling in the dim light. Possessively, he draped the jersey over her, the scent of his sweat and masculinity enveloping her. “Now, let me show you just how well I can handle my broom…” he smirked. No matter how ridiculous he sounded, he was lost in the moment.

Satisfied with the view below he surged forward, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, finally repositioning himself at her entrance. His tip glided over her slick wet folds. He groaned “‘Sallow’ looks so fucking good on you,” he gripped the hem of the jersey and with one swift motion thrust inside her, hitting the deepest spot.

She gasped her eyes wide open in surprise as she took hi,. “I always…wanted…ahh…this.” her words were coming out in between his measured thrusts.

His eyes gleamed with unbridled desire as he gazed down at her, his hands grasping the hem of his shirt on her possessively. “You have no idea how hot you sound,” he groaned while leaning in claiming her lips, bruising them, almost. His hips surged forward. He wanted to bury himself deeper into her welcoming heat. “Fuck, you look so good in my colours…” he growled, breath hot against her skin, his thrusts began to quicken drawing a cacophony of moans out of her.

“The idea of somebody catching us…ah, Sebastian,” she moaned, her hips bucking to meet each of his thrusts, his scent driving her crazy. Her nails dug deep into his freckled shoulders dragging down his arms. Each time he leaned in for a bruising kiss, her tongue glided masterfully over his, teasing, and driving him more mad.

His hips snapped forward with renewed urgency, his thick length plunging deeper into her core over and over. His fingers released the jersey and glided upwards to cup her breasts underneath, kneading them until he deftly moved his fingers over her nipples, instantly hardening her peaks.

He flicked one finger over her nipple while the other hand found its way back down to her plush clit. “That’s it darling, let me see you come undone around me,” he groaned and flicked his fingers with more intention while maintaining a thrusting rhythm and he could feel her walls tremble.

Her first orgasm washed over her whole body, erupting from her core and sending tingles down to her toes. Her walls clenched around his cock hard, and he strained leaning forward to devour her moans of pleasure. He moaned in desperation, as he felt his own impending release, he bit down into his lip making it bleed, tasting iron. He wouldn’t let himself come yet. This was just too good to end it here.

She laughed breathlessly beneath him. “Don’t stop,” she urged even though the sensitivity of the afterglow made her squirm beneath his insistent thrusts.

“Mhm, that’s it darling, squeeze me just like that,” he growled while regaining momentum and rolling his hips in a sensual grind. “I am going to wring every last drop from you. You feel so bloody incredible, dripping and clenching around me,” he cried out.

She arched forward eagerly meeting his every hard pulse. Hoisting up the jersey she pulled his face down to her breasts urging him to suck at her aching buds. Sebastian relished in the taste of flesh, his tongue capturing hungrily one of her pert nipples between his teeth and sucking on it, rekindling her arousal. His hips continued relentless pace, driving himself deeper, hitting her sweet spots over and over. “You’re mine, do you hear me? He growled, his other free hand kneading her other breast roughly. “Every inch of you belongs to me now. Say it.”

“I am yours,” she cried out through strained moans, his deep thrusts and rough handling making her head spin. “I am Sallow’s girl,” she moaned. Suddenly, she wanted to give in deeply to his possessive desires. She wanted his rough treatment to be even more intense. “Slap me!” she demanded.

“What did you say?” her demand surprised him, making him slow down momentarily.

“Slap me, Sebastian” she insisted. “I am yours. Have your way with me.”

Sebastian’s eyes flashed with unbridled lust at her wanton plea. With a feral growl, he brought his palm down in a sharp, stinging slap against her cheek. “You’re damn right, you’re mine,” he snarled possessively, his hips pounding into her with renewed fervor. He leaned in, dragging his lips over her abused flesh.

She pulled his hair tugging him closer. He buried himself to the hilt into her slick warmth. “Take every inch of me,” he nuzzled into her neck. She panted heavily chasing another wave of pleasure under his relentless rhythm. Beads of his sweat dripped down from his chestnut hair strands onto her shoulder. She hooked one of her arms around his neck letting it slowly trail lower until reaching his groin, gently squeezing, drawing out guttural sounds.

“Fuck,” he strained “Keep doing that love and you’ll have me spilling inside you…” his voice dropped to a ragged growl as he gazed down at her with pure lust burning in his eyes. “I won’t be able to hold back much longer…”

Her fingers teased and brushed his sensitive sac, making his breath hitch, his hips bucked forward involuntarily. “Bloody hell, you’re going to be the death of me,” he growled, his voice thick with raw need. “I want to hear you scream my name when I fill you.”

Her hand found its way back to her clit, rubbing it tentatively chasing her orgasm and matching his impending release. “I’ll be there with you,” she breathed.

“Yes, I need you to…” he groaned, coiled tension within him threatening to shatter. His form contorted over her, toes curling, feeling her tight walls squeeze around him once again. He gripped onto the fabric of his green jersey. His orgasm crashed over him in waves, filling her deeply with his, hot pulsing seed.

“I am right here with you,” he breathed heavily against her hair, still coming down from his intense release. She could feel him tremble above her.

“That was a lot,” she breathed, as he collapsed down. Her fingers threaded through his damp locs. Their lips met in a long, languid kiss, a sigh escaping her. His fingers traced the flush on her cheeks, then moved to roam her face, gently worshiping each feature.

He pulled out slowly, not breaking their connection entirely. He marveled at her sated form beneath him, the glow of her skin, the way she still trembled. A glistening trail ran down her thigh, and he traced it with a fingertip before sliding his hand gently upwards back into her well-used folds. “There, that’s better,” he murmured, his voice rough with tenderness. He scooped her into his arms, her warmth a delicious weight against him.

She chuckled against his chest. “What’s so funny?” He looked down at her, a gentle kiss landing on her hair.

“Imelda told me to bring your arse back to the pitch the second I found you,” she murmured, giggling.

“There were… more pressing matters to resolve first,” Sebastian smirked, his fingers tangling in her hair.

“I'll take care of Imelda,” she murmured, kissing him again, a shiver running through her. “But don’t think this is over.” With a final, lingering touch, she stepped away, leaving him wanting more.

“There were… more pressing matters to resolve first,” Sebastian smirked, his fingers tangling in her hair.

#hogwarts legacy #slytherin #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow fanfiction #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy smut #sebastian sallow smut #quidditch #madam kogawa #imelda reyes

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iminkandpaper · 1 month

Text

I have a thing for Villains in case you couldn't tell.

°•○

"I want her," Villain says, his eyes fixed on Princess, who glances at her father.

The king blanches, his eyes flicking between the two. "You can't-"

"I definitely can," Villain cut him off. "In return for your kingdom back, I want the princess."

She tilted her head to inspect him. Villain, despite his murderous tendencies, was... well, he was rather handsome, if she was being honest. His eyes bored into her father across the table, betraying his mask of indifference. He lounged in his seat while everyone else seemed on the edge of theirs.

Princess wasn't even supposed to be here. She had come only at Villains' request.

"Father," she started, "perhaps Villain and I can talk this through. Alone."

"Absolutely not," he spat. "You will not taint her with your darkness." The King looked to Villain again, jabbing a finger in his direction. "You will not have her."

Villain, with the slightest nod of his head, forced the king into silence. His burning stare moved to the Princess and he addressed her imperiously. "Come. We will discuss."

Not a soul stopped them. Not when he offered his arm. Not when she took it. Not when he led her through to the gardens.

They made their way to the entrance of the spiralling maze before Villain stopped. "You know my request already."

"You want me."

"I want you."

She extracted her arm from his to fiddle with the ring around her throat. "The last time I saw you, you went by Alias."

His jaw clenched. "My name is Villain."

She did not fight him on that. It wouldn't work. Princess stroked the petal of a lily thoughtfully. "You lied to me. You lied to everyone."

Villain remained silent at her back, and she made no move to speak. The silence lingered around them like a thick, suffocating fog. Her willingness to stagnate the conversation thawed at his resolve. Villain would have taken her in his arms and kissed her until she remembered she loved him had she not turned to face him.

"I have conditions," she said finally. He gestured for her to continue. "I will call you Alias. You will cease this ridiculous reign of terror that you have inflicted upon the land. You can keep Kingdom, that land it rightfully yours - but it will be restored to beauty. No more barren land or shaved forests. I want flowers. I want sunshine."

He was silent while she contemplated what else she wanted. He would give it to her. She was worth her weight in gold and more.

"And..." she hesitated.

"Name it and it is yours."

"I want a puppy."

"What?"

"A puppy. Father never let me have one. He said it would only distract me."

His eyes widened in alarm. "I-"

"You said anything," she countered fiercely. When he nodded in agreement, she turned away from him, satisfied.

His lips twisted. "You will have your puppy. And a wedding."

She whirled around, eyes alight.

"You will be my Queen," he said simply. "That is my only request."

"Deal."

They were a breath apart. His fingers reached out to stroke down her cheek, and Princess leaned into the touch.

"I have missed you," Villain murmured, pulling her close to him.

"What, all that power didn't satisfy you?" She taunted. Still, she was in his arms, not pulling away. His hand tangled in her hair, jerking her head backwards. Princess scowled at him. "Don't be mean."

Instead of claiming her mouth like he wished, he settled for a kiss to her temple, cupping the nape of her neck to hold her close.

"I've only ever wanted you," he said. "Everything else was simply an accessory."

She did not respond, cradled in his arms like something precious.

Like something he needed.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

Text

All the Good Girls Go To Hell 20

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, injury, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Friday! (again)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

It takes until noon to get yourself together. The world around you feels disconnected and hazy, beyond your reach. You just want to hide from the chaos your life has become, but you know you can't do that. Bucky says as much, telling you to take it all in small steps. The first; get your car.

You slump in the passenger seat of Bucky's range rover, arms folded over your fraught stomach. Never again. It's never worth it, even if it lets you forget. You just have to remember it all the next day, all while feeling shitty as hell.

He pulls up in front of Harry's house and you slowly sit forward to look around him. You gulp and fish out your keys, the jingle making you wince. You blow out a breath and undo your seat belt.

"Should I come with you, doll?" He offers, one hand on the wheel.

You look at him. His long hair is draw back into a ponytail at the back of his head, a few strands dangle loose to his chin. His square jaw is speckled with dark stubble and few patches of silver. His steely blue eyes shine as his plain white tee and blue jeans offer a perfect canvas for his easy allure. The way he looks at you makes it hard not to notice how handsome he is.

"No, no, I'll just go get my car and follow you back to your place. Should be easy."

You pull the door handle before you can lose your nerve. You're grateful for Bucky's help but you need to do this on your own. He can't coddle you and you can't expect everything from him. You don't want to be in this situation ever again; cast out and lost.

You get out and gently shut the door. You round the front of the tall rover and push your glasses up your nose. You cross the street, tucking your hands in your pockets as you keep your shoulders curled and head down. You cross the pavement and head up the tarmac, stopping short as you catch sight of your car.

Your mouth falls open as you gape at the mess strewn across it. Shaving cream streaks the hood and roof, toilet paper draped over it in tangled strips, and eggs smashed into the worn paint. As you get closer, you notice the only blank patch is keyed with the words 'dumb bitch'. You stare stunned at the desecration of your only possession.

You shake your head and don't look up at the house. You can guess it was probably Harry and his friends. This is the type of stuff the got up to in high school and these people made it clear that you're an outsider.

You near the car and grab a few strips of toilet paper, pulling them off and wadding them up as you try to wipe off the yolk and half-melted cream. Some of it's caked on after sitting for at least half the night. You sigh and focus on just tearing the tissue off. You can hit a car wash but you don't know what you'll do about the scratches.

As you scrape off what you can, you hear a door and sense a shadow. Harry's laughter rattles in the afternoon sun and you ignore him as you toss clumps of cream and toilet paper onto the ground. You unlock the door and he catches it from the outside, holding it in place.

"Do you get the hint now?" He asks darkly.

"Leave me alone," you tug on the door and it doesn't budge.

"Naomi is better than you. You're just some stupid nerd who doesn't know her place. The only reason Peter was interested is because he wants to make MJ jealous--"

"I don't care--"

"You're too boring for her," he sneers, "so better go off back to your corner and cry, little girl."

"Frig off," you spit at him, "and let go!"

You try to jerk the door away and he just snickers again. You bear your teeth in frustration and roll your eyes. If he wants you gone, why won't he let you go?

"She helped. The eggs were her idea," he taunts. You don't care if she did or not, her loyalties are clear enough. You saw them last night.

"Hey," Bucky's voice rips through your standoff and you turn as he storms up the driveway. "Back up, jackass."

"Jesus Christ, not this geezer," Harry snarls.

"Yes, this geezer," Bucky barks, "go inside before I show you what an old man can do."

"Whatever, bro."

"Whatever," Bucky stomps past you and stops only inches from Harry, looming over him, "I'm up for whatever you choose, boy."

Harry huffs and curls his lip. He raises his hands and takes a step back, "you're not worth the trouble."

"Sure," Bucky keeps his shoulder in front of you, blocking you in, "go on and run back to your posse of dumbasses."

Harry waves him off and turns on his heel, slides flopping under him as he tramps like a toddler back to the house. You shudder and look at Bucky as he turns to you. He rests his hand on the top of the door.

"You alright, doll?" He softens his tone.

"Yeah, fine, he's just dumb."

"Mm," he looks past you, "assholes. Let's get this thing cleaned up and--" He pauses and shifts away, bending to examine the message etched into the paint, "hmmmmm," he growls, "good thing I know how to buff this stuff out." He stands straight, hands on his hips, his pose accentuating his chest and biceps, "you want me to drive this thing till we get it washed or--"

"No, no, it's okay," you murmur, "I just wanna get out off here."

"Sure thing," he tries to smile but his cheek ticks as his eyes drift angrily to the house, "don't let appearances fool you, there people are trash."

🌞

When you get back to Bucky's, he unfolds a lawn chair and points you to it. There's little argument to be had as his anger has you tongue-tied. You know it's not directed at you but you can feel it steaming off of him. You've never been good at handling that sort of emotion, especially from others.

It's probably for the better. Your head is pounding, even in the shadow of the awning, and you stomach is still wobbly with uncertainty. You rest your chin in your hand as you watch him spraying your car with the nozzle of the hose. As he does, the splash back dampens the front of his tee, the fabric clinging to his stomach as he sneers at his task.

He shut the hose off and grabs the sponge from the bucket, scrubbing at the harder to get patches until has has it mostly clean. He gives it another rinse with hose and rolls it up, dumping the bucket in the grass and dropping the sponge inside. He puts the pail down and sits on the steps, only a foot away from you.

"Sure made a mess of myself," he looks down at his wet shirt, wiping his hands on it before tugging it upwards. He strips it off and shakes it out as you avert your wiley gaze. "I'll buff the side later and it should be fine. Probably have to find somewhere to fix the paint properly, though."

"Thanks, uh, you've really done... enough."

"Shitty," he mutters clutching the shirt in his hand. As he leans an elbow on his knee, your eyes stray to the trim of hair across his broad chest. You hide your wandering gaze and focus on your hands, "I'm sorry she dragged you into all this. Really... and I know I've probably not made it any easier."

"I guess I'm just confused. I don't know what to do with myself. I guess I should keep looking for a job but at this rate, I won't have one until I have to head back to campus. If I even get to go." You exhale shakily, "my parents split tuition but if my mom cuts me off... I don't know what to do."

He nods and gives a thoughtful hum. He sits back and props his elbow on the step behind him, his muscled stomach tugging at your gaze. No, stop.

"I never had kids. Obviously. Always knew I couldn't give them everything I would want to, you know? But if I did, I'd give them everything I could. I just don't get it. I really don't, you're a good girl and they just don't see what's right in front of them," he sucks his teeth, "well, how about..." he stops himself and lets his leg sway one way then the other, "I could offer you a job. You could do some work around the shop. Sweeping up sawdust and stuff but the pay is good."

You nod and chew your lip. It's a nice idea. More than you deserve.

"What... what about..."

"Steve? You let me handle him. Really, he's just a dumbass. Gets carried away. Besides, sounds like he has his hands full with your mom and his wife," he scoffs, "you'll be working with me, not him."

You wiggle your foot, "I don't know..."

"It's your choice but it'll keep you busy and it could help with money problems," he puts his hand flat, "all you have to do is say yes. Oh, and obviously, whatever you decide, you got a place to stay."

You glance up at the house and frown, "I don't... what about Naomi?"

"What about her? If she comes back, same thing for her. She has a room here. I made promises and I don't break those. However she feels about me, I wasn't the one who hit the self-destruct button."

You drop your head, holding it tight as it feels ready to splinter. It's not just your hangover, it's everything else. You squeak and rub your temples with your thumbs.

"You okay?" Bucky leans forward and touches your elbow.

You lift your head gently, "yeah. I just feel awful. That I ever thought you were... bad. After everything, you won't even turn her away."

"She's lost. She's careless but she's young. I only ever wanted to help her, I was just selfish about how," he shrugs and retracts his hand, "but anyway," he stands and touches his lower back, "I think you should go inside, chill out on the couch, and watch some Netflix. I'll get you something nice and greasy to eat for that hangover."

You whimper and give a pathetic smile, "I'm sorry about that," you stand with some effort, "I don't usually drink like that--"

He laughs, "don't apologise," he waves you up the steps ahead of him, "I'm going to start being honest with you so I do need to tell you that it was really cute."

You giggle and shake your head as you reach for the front door. He's fast and extends his arm past you, opening it around you, close, so close you can feel the heat roiling off of him.

"No, it wasn't," you insist.

"It really was," he snorts as he follows you inside, "you get this pout and it's just..." he's quiet as you slip your shoes off, a lull as he weighs his words, "gorgeous."

You chuckle nervously and rub your neck. He clears his throat and toes off his sneakers. He moves around you cautiously, as if fighting not to get any closer.

"I'll go grab my phone and we'll figure out what to order," he mutters, his tone uneven, "you just make yourself at home."

🌞

You feel a bit more stable once you have a good meal in your stomach. Good being a relative term. The greasy cheeseburger and onions rings are hardly nutritious but they are satisfying.

You slurp on your diet coke as you lay with your head up against the armrest and lose yourself in the shallow drama of the reality show personalities. An argument about a dress really is compelling theatre. You put the cup down and hug the cushion to your chest, laughing as a woman storms out, tossing her wine in the process. Wow, and you thought your life was ridiculous.

You yawn and close your eyes. It's getting late. You should probably go to the guest room and try to sleep off the last of your alcoholic regret.

The end of the couch dips and your eyes snap open. Bucky sits just below your feet, tilting his head at the screen. He arches his brow as his eyes search the television. His mouth slants as he looks at you.

"So, why are these women screaming at each other?" He asks.

"Oh, uh, you can change it," you go to sit up but he firmly puts his hand on your ankle.

"No, I'm curious. Genuinely."

"Really, it's just a stupid show--"

"I want to know," he smiles and glances back at the TV, "they are really angry."

"Well, the blonde one borrowed a dress from the brunette and never gave it back but the blonde claims she did and the other woman is lying. And the other blonde is saying she saw the dress in the brunette's closet," you explain and end with a chortle, "it really is nonsense."

He keeps his hand on your ankle, his thumb rubbing through the cotton of your sock. He nods and squints, "the brunette is lying."

"Hmm? How do you know?"

"You can tell," he points with his other hand, his other slipping down your foot. "She keeps looking left."

"Oh?" You look between him and the television, overly aware of his hand. He pushes his thumb into your sole and you groan at the delightful pressure.

"You ticklish?" He wonders as he drags his thumb along your arch, "huh?"

"A little," you confess, "what are you--"

"Just... being nice," he grips your foot as you try to pull away once more, "just lay back. Everyone loves a good foot massage, don't they?"

"I... I wouldn't know," you push yourself up on your elbows and watch him knead your foot, barely withholding a moan. He knows what he's doing. "Never had one before."

"Really? Well, you got a lot of tension right... here," he poke his thumb into you and your squeal. It sends a zing up your leg. "See? I told you, you need to relax. I'm just helping." He grabs your ankle higher up and yanks, just hard enough to have you flat on your back, "sit back and enjoy, doll. You deserve it."

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america #winter soldier #all the good girls go to hell

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wri0thesley · 2 months

Note

Diluc and L, pretty please!

L - Lily (purity): “I shouldn’t taint you like this. Not when you’re so pure.”

cw: injury, dub-con, captive reader

You're trembling. Diluc is blood-stained, his jaw set stubbornly, his clothes a mess of blood and charred carbon and mud and Archon-knows what else. You shouldn't have done this, you think, as his hand grasps your chin in his, as his fingers sink into the soft flesh of your cheek. He takes a slow, shuddering breath.

"You want to clean me up?" He asks you again, and you curse yourself for your own stupidity. He is your captor, not your lover. It can be hard to remember, wrapped in luxury, brought breakfast in bed by maids and dressed in pretty morning gowns of fabric you could never have afforded before Diluc's attentions - those days when Diluc is not here, and you can imagine Dawn Winery is yours.

But you are, at the heart of it, his captive.

When he is at home, he broods through the house; tells you shortly that you're not to leave this room, you're not to go onto the balcony without anyone with you, you're not to eat that, or say this, or forget your manners again. He sleeps beside you, arms like vices around your waist.

But he has not been home for two weeks, and when you had seen him at the door to your shared chambers, his face bruised and his lip swollen and bloody and his entire body bowed with exhaustion . . . you had forgotten all of it in a moment of weakness, and the memory of who you were before Diluc had made this your life had come rushing to the forefront.

You had seen to plenty of men and women injured like this, when you were in the employ of the Church of Favonius, running their clinics. You had patched up children's knees and sewn shut the wounds of the Knights with the same sweet smile and gentle disposition. You had learnt what to say to men like Diluc, who gritted their teeth and insisted it did not hurt and they did not need your assistance even as they fell to their knees on the marble floor of the cathedral and you had to ask some of the sisters to help carry them into the infirmary room.

You could backtrack. Slink back into bed, shake your head, say something about the mess and the scent of the blood--

But you couldn't really, could you? Diluc had - at least, he says - fallen in love with you in those little backroom infirmaries, elbow deep in blood and medicines and bandages. He had looked at your soft smile and heard your gentle voice and, he says, thought you far too sweet and precious a thing to languish there, at the mercy of any rogue who could walk into the Cathedral and ask for sanctuary. He would know you were lying.

You give him a wordless little nod instead, your face still cradled in his gloved hand. A look flits across his own visage; something so sweet and adoring and disbelieving it makes your stomach twist.

"I don't deserve you," he rumbles, and truer words have never been spoken, as he lets you take him gently by the arm and tug him towards the adjoining bathroom. You ignore the muddy boot-prints on the floor; you try and will yourself to imagine the Cathedral around you. Nothing more than Master Diluc Ragnvindr, needing your aid - you think, as your fingers reach for the fastening of his shredded, tattered jacket and push it off the broadness of his shoulders.

He lets out a hot breath that reminds you that this is not just an ordinary day at the Cathedral; looks at you through half-lidded eyes as you busy yourself with running warm water into the basin, searching for cloths and sponges. There is nothing untoward kept in this bathroom - Diluc does not even shave in here, lest you get the wrong idea about something sharp - but there are, thankfully, enough cloths and a tiny bottle of antiseptic, so that you can clean the wounds on his already scarred chest even as he hisses.

He . . . isn't often undressed around you.

That, he tells you, he will wait for - big soulful crimson eyes trained on you. Until you're ready. Until you realise just how hard he is working to take care of you and you return to him the affection he knows you have in your heart. He would never, he promises, hand on his heart, force you to do anything--

He says, as if you are not forced to play house like a pretty little spouse in his luxurious winery already. He says, as if you are not forced to bite down your growls and hisses and sharp words about the life he has stolen you from. He says, as if you are not forced to pretend you are someone else lest you simply go mad.

His breath is coming out in pants as you work your fingers through the matted crimson strands of his hair. His cheeks have flushed beneath your careful, slow attempts to clean him and his wounds. He groans, chest-deep, as you swallow and reach for his trousers, where you can already see that a gash on his thigh has stuck the fabric to his skin.

"This is how I fell in love with you," he grunts, as you manage to undo it, as your cheeks burn with humiliation as you undress him and he sits there, placid and silent. "So . . . lovely. So . . . caring. Even to those who don't deserve it." You kneel before him, so you can check over the wound to make sure there is nothing stuck in it--

And your mouth goes dry and fear and disgust war in the pit of your stomach as you realise he's hard, the stiff outline of his cock pressing against his underwear. Diluc reaches out for you, one hand curling around your shoulder, another soft groan falling from his mouth as he looks down at you.

You freeze where you are. The moment shimmers between you, charged with possibility, and you find yourself reciting a prayer to Barbatos in your head over and over again, muddling over the words in a fever pitch that Diluc will keep his word--

But he's been off ever since he limped into the Winery. Muddled. A blow to the head? Whopperflower nectar? Some creature's venom, some spell from the Abyss? You don't know what it is, only that Diluc is looking down at you and there is a hot, burning kind of hunger that he usually tries to hide written clear in his crimson gaze.

"You're so pretty down there," He says, voice low and dark and husky. "I . . . I shouldn't taint you like this. Not when you're so pure."

"Diluc?" Your voice comes out thready and reedy, your body trembling like a harp-string. "Let me patch you up--"

"No," Diluc says, more to himself than to you. "I've waited so long--"

The hand on your shoulder curves upwards, thumb brushing your collarbone, your jawline. You curse the thin little morning gown you'd let Adelinde dress you in this morning, the square neckline a little risque - giving Diluc unfettered access to the soft, vulnerable skin of your throat and your collar.

He's not interested in those, though. His thumb presses against the seam of your lips, instead. With a strength that an injured man should not possess, he uses his other hand to pull you closer at the same time as he hooks his thumb into your mouth, forcing it to open up.

Panic flaring in your mind. Diluc pulls your mouth open as wide as he can, uncaring that you're drooling - his eyes are somewhere far away now, as he mutters to himself--

"It's not so bad," he's saying, "I'm not . . . it's just your mouth, and I've been so calm, and you're so beautiful-- it won't . . . ruin you--"

"--'iluc--" You can't speak for his thumb in your mouth, for the saliva filling it, for the fear that runs through you as his other hand slowly goes to unbutton his placket as if in a trance.

"Shh," he says to you, and you have never heard a less reassuring hush. "It's alright, sweetheart. I would never hurt you. You offered, remember? I would never . . . force you to do anything--"

#ask game #drabble #yandere diluc #yandere for ts #not sfw text #dub con for ts #writing #genshin impact posting

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xxshadowbabexx · 2 months

Note

I NEED READER CHEATING ON SOAP AS REVENGE, I WILL NOT BE A CUCK QUEEN!!!! ALSO FUCK READERS BESTFRIEND WHAT A CUNT

My Heart’s Yours (Behind Closed Doors)

Warnings: infidelity (soap is cheating on reader, so reader cheats on soap with alejandro), smut, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, language, soft sex, sex with feelings, cum eating, brief aftercare, enthusiastic consent

In response to this

Your boyfriend was such a whore. Downright cunty and not the good kind. The kind that made you want to break dishes and burn his clothes.

The kind that made you want to call up his mom and tell her he’s a joke. Maybe you were petty, but you were pretty sure he deserved it.

He didn’t kiss you how Alejandro did. He didn’t hold you like this and whisper meaningful sweet nothings in your ear.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish was a lot of things, but he could never be Alejandro Vargas.

You were on your way to his room now, a late night bootycall after Soap left you disappointed yet again. You’re not even sure why you stuck with Soap. Your heart (and vagina) were all in on Alejandro. Maybe you wanted Soap to realize you were something, and then you could leave him.

You knocked on Alejandro’s door once before ducking in. You found his room dark, with candles lighting up every corner, and were those rose petals on the bed? What a sap you loved it.

Alejandro walked out of the bathroom (he had been shaving himself for you). He walked up to you, placing his hands on your hips, careful not to accidentally touch your ass before you gave explicit permission. What a gentleman.

He leaned forward to kiss your cheek, “how are you, mi amor?” he asked gently, breath ghosting along your face.

You smiled as you leaned into his touch, “‘m alright. Better now,”

“¿Puedo besarte?” he asks and you nod, letting his lips mold into yours. His hand moves to cradle your jaw as he nips your bottom lip and you moan into the kiss.

“Alejo, please,” you whispered into the kiss and he heard you.

“¿Por favor, que?”

“Touch me, Alejandro,” and well, who was he to deny you?

He gently guided you to lie back on his bed, and he covered your neck in kisses, moving down towards your core. He pressed one last kiss to your clothed heat before looking at you from between your thighs.

“May I undress you, amor?” and you nodded.

He moved gently to untie your shoes, setting them on the floor, then he went to undo your trousers. He was careful to kiss each and every inch of skin as it became exposed, cherishing you entirely.

He moved up to take off your shirt before lifting your black sports-bra over your head.

“Eres tan jodidamente bonita, cariño,” he gasps as he kisses your collarbone, hands massaging your breasts between his fingers.

He admires every curve and scarred tissue as he kisses his way down your body, slotting his face between your thighs.

“Me muero de hambre, amor,” he says as he gives kitten licks to your clit, maintaining eye contact with you.

It makes your breath hitch as he moves down to circle your hole with his tongue, spelling his name as you curled your fingers into his hair.

He uses his calloused thumb to circle your clit as he suckled your hole and greedily swallowed your juices. His free hand kneaded the tender flesh of your thighs as you ground yourself into his face.

He pulled back, pressing kisses to your inner thighs before gazing upon your weeping cunt.

He truly didn’t mean to tease, noting how you squirmed under his watchful gaze, but to him nothing was more beautiful than the sight of your cunt glistening with slick and spit. He rubbed his hand through your folds, spreading them to see your hole clenching embarrassingly around nothing.

Much too slowly for your liking, he dragged his pointer finger up before inserting it inside you. His fingers weren’t incredibly thick, but they were dangerously long, something that made them feel all that much better than your own.

You moan out as the pads of his fingers push against that spongy spot inside you. He smiles at the sound, finally returning to licking at your clit.

He sucks, sweeter than saccharine, and you revel in the pleasure. It grows continuously in your belly, slowly but surely. And much quicker than it would if it was Soap touching you like this.

As if he can hear your thoughts, not like you said it out loud, Alejandro pulls back. “Hush love, I don’t want to hear his name come out of your mouth while you’re in my bed,” and with that, he dives back in.

His mouth latches on your clit, lewd noises echoing off of the wall as he sucks in time with the pace he fingers you. You can feel him moaning into your pussy as you grind into his face.

The coil tightens in your belly, burning bright before it snaps. You wail, awestruck and jaw slacked as your orgasm ricochets throughout your body. You can feel yourself spitting at the seams, yet he remains sturdy, licking and kissing while sewing you together again.

You think you might be crying, but you can’t be sure of anything when he’s looking at you like this. Eyes full of pure adoration, affection seeping out of him, and you can see it in the way he licks you clean and massages the underside of your thighs.

“You did so good for me, cariño,” he whispers as he begins kissing you, slowly and sensually.

You can taste yourself on his tongue and feel your slick on his face, a sign of how earnestly he pleased you.

“Need you so bad, Alejo,” you mused, moaning as he groped your chest.

“Aye, amor, you’ll have me soon I promise. Just wanna kiss you right now, okay?” And kiss you he does. Your mind spins, dizzy at the raw emotion he conveys, something no man could ever give you but him.

He angles his mouth into yours, tongues dancing across each other, well aquatinted. You moan into his mouth as he drags your bottom lip through your teeth. He didn’t kiss you like he was starving, or like he needed to. He didn’t kiss you as if you were fragile and made of glass.

He kissed you like he truly saw you. He kissed you as someone he had deep respect for, feelings that were unexplainable, and words would never do. He kissed you like he understood everything Soap was putting you through, like he understood all of the emotional baggage you came with.

He kissed you like he knew all of it, and loved you just the same.

And it made you melt. You felt tears slip down your cheeks, only for him to brush them away with a gentle swipe of his thumb.

“It’s okay, cariño, I’ve got you. Want me to touch you again, love? Love you like you should be?”

You whimpered as you nodded yes. God yes. He had a way with words that could make you squirm and cry out in joy, and you soaked up every second of it.

He smiled at your response, gathering your slick to rub against his shaft before spreading your pussy lips with his fingers.

“Ready for me?”

“Please,”

And then he was slowly pushing into you. You could feel every inch of him and the wonderful stretch that burned to bright. His eyes never left yours as he moved into you, caressing your sides with his talented hands all while that dazzling smile stayed perched on his lips.

When he was fully sheathed inside you, you finally felt like you could breathe again. You weren’t sure how you managed to get through the days when he wasn’t deep inside you. The only thing you were sure of was the fact that he felt like home, and he felt it, too.

He leaned in to kiss your forehead before pulling back, “May I move, mi amor?”

Instead of responding verbally, you thrusted up your hips, grinding the head of his cock into your cervix. He bit his bottom lip, taking the hint and pulling out, only to thrust lavishly back into you. His movements were slow and even, kissing your special spot with each movement.

You were the shore and we was the waves, crashing into you peacefully on a warm summer day.

Each thrust was shallow, and he thrusted in tune with the kisses he speckled along your chest.

Pull out, kiss, push back in.

Pull out, kiss, push back in, over and over again. Each thrust pulled you closer to the edge, pulled you towards him. Towards home.

You raked your hands down his back, careful not to dig your nails into his epithelium tissue. Not that you wouldn’t want to mark him up, show the world your passion, it was just that with the life he lived, with the things he’d seen, you didn’t want to contribute in any way to the pain.

Instead you moved his head, barring his neck to you and sucking deep violet marks into his skin. He looks so pretty decorated with your claim and you clench around him.

“Feeling good, love?” he asks, but there’s no teasing behind it. Only a genuine curiosity- a need to make you fulfilled.

“So, so good baby, fuck. Need more, please?” you whimper out, tears doting your waterline as he picks up his pace, catching your lips with his.

“Anything for you, mi amor,”

You could feel the warmth reverberating and flooding your womb, gushing as your legs squeezed around his hips as you cried out. Your orgasm rushed through you as you sobbed, plummeting off the edge of the cliff and landing in your manmade heaven. Alejandro’s long cock continued teasing your cervix as your tears spilled over and vision blurred.

He continued thrusting into you as his semen flooded your womb, filling you completely. It was warm and overflowing, spurting out of you in thick pools and dripping down the curve of your ass as his cock did its best to plug the remnants in you.

You exhaled, long and shaky as you felt your mind return to your body, cooling down after the brink of pleasure. You opened your eyes blearily and could see Alejandro smiling down at you, as he leaned down to press his forehead against yours.

You stayed like that for a while, calming down and embracing each other like you were the last things you had, and in a way you were.

No one would wholeheartedly support you like Alejandro would, no one could lift you up while holding you down like him. And he made it known that you offered him the same reprieve from the world.

Eventually you felt Alejandro begin to move, pulling out of you to settle between your thighs yet again. He used his impeccably skillful tongue to begin cleaning you up. His hands massaged your thighs as he ate his cum out of you. You moaned in soft bliss, eyes fluttering shut, smiling at the feeling of the gentle kisses and licks he bestowed upon you.

He wasn’t trying to work you up to another orgasm, and you didn’t want one. Instead you curled your fingers in his short obsidian locks and let go of yourself, content to let him take care of you how you always wanted to be.

When the morning comes, you awoke cuddled up to Alejandro, kissed him good morning, and got ready for drills.

If Soap notices the hickeys on your neck he surely didn’t leave, he doesn’t say anything.

Taglist

@theloneshadow24 @frogtowne @reap3erslov3 @ladyxtiger @whitetiger846

#cod soap #soap cod #soap mw2 #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #alejandro call of duty #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod #alejandro cod #alejandro vargas

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sinofwriting · 8 months

Note

Logan Sargent and comfort? Maybe something about him crashing out again and the reader comforting him?

Literally cried while writing this. But here you go Anon!

Breaths - Logan Sargeant

Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon

She holds Logan as he clutches at her, short shaky breaths wracking his frame as he presses his face deeper into the crook of her neck that's wet with tears. His devastation has tears over her own coming to her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. She rubs at his back, hoping to soothe him, make the shaking slow to a stop.

“It’ll be okay, Lo.” She coos, when he finally takes a shuddering deep breath, lungs burning for air. He shakes his head and his grip on her becomes impossibly tighter and the response makes her now clutch at him. His desperation for her to be closer, worrying. “It will be. I promise.” She can feel his lips move across her skin as they form words, but she can’t hear them. But then he’s repeating himself and the words don’t come out so quiet and pressed to her skin she can hear them. They come out in a desperate sob. “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me, baby.” Tears spill down her cheeks as his desperation for her to be so close makes sense. “Never.” She tells him and it sounds like an oath, a promise, a vow. “I’m never leaving you, Logan. Never.”

Slowly as they stand there, holding each other, they both stop crying, the skin of her cheeks and neck drying. His body no longer shakes from sobs and panicky breaths. The third steady intake of air that he manages makes her squeeze him tighter and she coaxes him into the bathroom.

Turning on the tap, as she waits for the water to get warm, she urges him to lift his head. The sight of his face, a blotchy red, eyes puffy and tear tracks all over it, makes her heart clench painfully in her chest and she presses her lips to the delicate skin under both of his eyes, to the tip of his nose, the spot on his jaw where he cut himself shaving yesterday before she runs a washcloth under the tap, letting it get damp before cleaning his face. His eyes never closing, just looking into hers as she cleans him up.

She gives her own face a quick passover with the washcloth before tossing it onto the counter, turning the tap off and moving them both back to the bedroom. It’s easy to slip him out of his shirt, pants, boxers, and even socks. It’s harder to undress herself. Logan immediately whining when no part of her is touching him. And she doesn’t think she’s ever gotten undressed so quick, his need for her touch, fueling her.

It pains her, but she doesn’t immediately gather him back into her arms, instead sliding under the covers of the hotel bed and then lifting it for Logan to join her and he practically darts under. His warm bare body against hers makes her shiver.

He’s quick to nudge himself between her legs, settling in the cradle of her hips so he can easily rest his head back in the crook of her neck. One of his arms going underneath her back, while the other goes more underneath her shoulders. Her own arms wrap around him, hands resting on his back as they move up and down, reassuring.

Tomorrow her body will hate her for letting him rest completely in between her thighs, the stretch will be too much for them and her hips but she knows she won’t regret it. Can’t when Logan is making that little humming sound in the back of his throat from the contact, his breathing deep and even, his own body warm and the weight of him on top of her comforting.

“I love you, Lo.” She murmurs when he finally drifts to sleep, thighs already aching but she ignores the stretch of pain in favor of the small puffs of air that brush her collarbone and the way sleep calls her name as well.

---

Tagging: @lpab @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @copper-boom @iloveyou3000morgan @topguncultleader @boiohboii

#logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #i really really love logan #also had somebodys nobody by alexander23 on repeat while writing this

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the-californicationist · 3 months

Text

he buys you jewelry

The incessant whir of the tattoo gun was droning on as you watched Price’s freshly-shaved shoulder and back take on the sweeping artwork of a huge dragon. It had arching wings and a terrible snarl, and its long tongue breathed fire out onto his spine. You weren’t sure why he was getting a dragon, or what the symbolism was, but it was beautiful work. It fit his body perfectly.

You’d been dating the soldier for about two months now, and he was very intense. He was apparently a captain of some sort of special forces group, but he hadn’t burdened you with the details. As you spoke with him and shared more things about yourself, he would leave little breadcrumbs about himself along the way, opening up slowly like a tight bud, blooming right in front of your eyes.

His violent career was probably why he was taking this tattoo like it was a massage, chatting happily with you and his artist, Jana, totally unfazed by the repeated stabbing pain of the needles. Price was laid across the black chair, shirtless and hatless with his chest down and his back exposed to Jana. She was working away diligently, and you were in a prime location to drool over his body.

You’d been naked together already, and he was a damn fine lover, but his huge frame still made you hot, bothered, and unquenchably thirsty. You let your eyes drag over his hulking shoulders, gazing at the banded muscle in his back, his huge lats fanning out like wings, leading down to a trim but strong core. His skin was dusted with thick hair and a starfield of freckles. Old and new tattoos lay nestled around his body, telling a story you were slowly unfolding. John Price was gorgeous.

“Mm,” he groaned, “Back of the arm is a bitch.”

“You need a break, John?” Jana asked him, “‘Cause I could use a smoke.”

“You bet,” Price smiled in agreement, letting her clean him up and wrap the skin to keep it safe.

You handed him a bottle of water and grabbed an orange from your bag, following him to the back of the parlor. He dusted off a bench for you to sit with him, and he lit a tin cigar. You started to peel your orange, handing him a segment at a time, sharing it together as his smoke rolled out of his nose and mouth, spiraling up from the glowing embers. He offered it to you, and you took it.

The smoke was warm and filled your mouth, heating the sensitive skin of your cheeks. The tobacco and vanilla notes blended with the sweetness of the orange creating a pleasant taste, and it was satisfying to blow it away from you. More satisfying, however, was the indulgent expression on Price’s face when you did so, his bearded grin turning almost smug when you looked up at him to return his cigar.

“Does it hurt?” You asked him, getting a peek at his dragon. It was nearly finished.

“It hurts in a good way, ya know? Pain…” he paused for a moment, thinking, his gaze focused on something far away, “Pain requires fear. If you can move past it, you can overcome it. I just try to find something I’d rather feel than fear.”

“What do you usually feel?” You asked, biting into another juicy slice of your orange.

“Rage,” he smiled a little sadly, staring down at his hands, “I’m quick with my anger. Comes too easy for me, sometimes.”

“Do you feel rage now?” You probed further, handing him another shining lobe from the fruit.

He looked at you, brushing your hair over your ear gently,

“No, love. Not rage. Something else, though.”

For a moment, his stark blue eyes drew you in, turning into pools of endless, cloudless sky. You thought he might kiss you. You might have a chance to taste the mixture of tobacco and orange in his mouth, feel his slick tongue slip against yours. You wanted to be pressured by his jaw to open up to him, to allow him to taste whatever he wanted to taste, to take whatever he wanted to take.

“Hey, mate,” Jana poked her head around the corner, “You ready to finish up?”

“Yeah,” Price replied, his eyes not leaving yours, gripping you without using his hands.

“Looks brilliant, Jans,” Price admired his dragon in the mirror, inspecting the fine details of its black scales, “You’re the best.”

“You like it?” She smiled, admiring the work as well, pride shining on her face.

“Yeah, I’m proper chuffed. Now it’s her turn,” he nodded over to you.

“What?” You gaped, surprised at the sudden focus.

He let Jana place the protective film over his tattoo and pulled his shirt back on, commenting,

“You wanted to get some work done, yeah?”

“Oh, right,” you said, remembering you’d told him how badly you wanted a tongue piercing since you were a teenager, “Not sure I have the funds, so -”

“No,” Price shook his head, “It’s on me, love. Whatever you want.”

“Really?” You couldn’t believe he would just drop money on you like it was nothing. Jana’s studio was one of those invite-only, get-on-a-waiting-list type of places. Very posh. This wasn’t going to be cheap.

He nodded, fixing his shirt and sliding over to give you a chaste kiss,

“Anything for you, sweet girl,” he grinned, lowering his voice, “You gonna pierce that pretty tongue for me to play with, hm?”

You could feel your cheeks grow hot from the way his comment made you feel, bellowing the fire that was growing in your core. You turned to Jana who was cleaning up her station,

“Are you able to do a tongue piercing today?”

She smiled,

“For John’s girl? Anytime. Have a seat.”

She brought over some bars for you to choose from. You worried about how sensitive your skin was, but tried not to be picky. When you asked about hypoallergenic options, she brought out a whole tray, watching as you and Price perused the selections.

“This one?” You pointed to a polymer style. It was bright fluorescent pink, and it almost glowed in the container.

“Very safe. The PTFE will be the easiest to avoid infection,” Jana told you confidently. She really knew her craft. You watched as she prepped the needle, and you started to get nervous.

Price noticed of course, and he reached out for your hand,

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you smiled up at him, grimacing a bit, admitting your nervousness.

The captain reminded you, squeezing your hand,

“Don’t think about the fear.”

“What should I think about instead?”

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, and your heart froze in your chest as you listened to his words,

“I can’t stop thinking about how it’s going to make me feel when you lick my cock. I want you to rub it against my head, underneath, in that bloody spot that I like.”

“Ready?” Jana asked, interrupting your salacious thoughts.

Price backed off, smirking with a proud look on his face, knowing he had made your blood run hot, straight to your belly. You nodded, giving her your tongue. You expected to be nervous again, but you weren’t. You were, however, extremely horny.

Then, the clamp. A few seconds later, the sting. Your eyes wrenched shut, and Price squeezed your hand tighter. You opened them to look up at him, and his expression had darkened. He was staring into your mouth, looking at the piercing, obviously getting turned on by it. You watched him, sitting behind Jana, adjust himself in his pants, grasping at his growing shaft, trying to calm down.

“All done,” Jana smiled, showing you a hand mirror, “and look - ”

She shined a blacklight over it, making it glow even brighter,

“Pretty!” She exclaimed.

She explained the aftercare, giving you plenty of products, and glaring at Price, making sure he followed the hygiene steps, too.

You left the shop sore, but you were distracted by the feeling of the wetness between your legs. John hugged you tightly before opening the passenger side door for you to climb into his car,

“Poor darling, want to go for ice cream? Something to soothe that tongue?”

You nodded, looking at him expectantly, knowing he was still half-hard. His thickness made it impossible to miss.

“Yeah, John, that sounds good.”

“After a few days, she said you’d be back to fighting shape, hm? I can’t wait.”

His laugh was dark and full of promise. He leaned over the center console to kiss your neck, and you felt like you might melt through the seat. He pulled out of the parking lot, and as the lights from the city glittered over his windshield, you held his hand, feeling like his precious pet, something to be cherished.

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #afab reader #Female reader #x female reader

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bruisedboys · 1 year

Note

Cutting/doing Eddie's hair and he keeps trying to distract you but it's the first time anyone's really done it and just being overwhelmed but love and 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

such a cute request!! hope this is okay my love 🤍

0.6k words

“Are you sure about this?”

You’re tentative and nervous where you stand over Eddie, scissors in hand. Your boyfriend twists in his chair, meeting you with a look on his face not far from what a fed-up mother would give her toddler.

“Y/N,” he says deadpan. “I’m sure. Would you just do it already?”

“But …” You trail off mid-protest. You’ve had this argument many times. Eddie really wants you to cut his hair, you think you won’t do a good job, Eddie doesn’t care because he thinks his hair is already totally fucked, you disagree because you think his hair is perfect.

He’s got lovely hair. Gorgeous dark curls that you love pulling on and running your fingers through. You just don’t want to ruin it.

“Love,” Eddie says gently, more gentle than he’s been previously about this whole kerfuffle. “It’s only a trim. I only need like, this much off.” He holds up a hand, showing you his thumb and pointer finger separated by about half an inch. “You’ll do just fine.”

You sigh as Eddie turns back in his chair, facing the mirror you’ve set up. You run your hand through his locks, pushing your fingers through his gorgeous, gorgeous curls. You can’t help but think this is the last time you’ll see them like this, before you ruin them.

“I just don’t wanna ruin your hair,” you admit. “What if I accidentally cut off too much, Eds? What if it looks awful and it’s all my fault?”

Eddie catches your eyes in the mirror, a look on his face that you know all too well. “Darling. You could shave my whole head of hair off and I’d still be a fucking knockout.”

You groan loudly. He’s awful. And maybe what he said is a tiny bit true but there’s no way you’re going to give him the satisfaction.

“You’re full of shit,” you tell him, grimacing.

Eddie gives you a lopsided, too cheerful grin in the mirror. “Thanks sweetheart. Now get choppin’.”

You sigh and do as he says. He’s got a face that’s hard to say no to. It really doesn’t go half as bad as you thought it would. It’s actually quite easy. You chop off about half an inch with ease and you’re making a few clean-up cuts when you feel Eddie staring at you in the mirror. You look up, scissors in midair.

Sure enough, he’s gazing at you like you invented the sun. You meet his eyes in your reflection and wrinkle your nose.

“What?”

“What d’you mean what?”

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

Eddie twists in his chair very abruptly, startling you so much you almost make a lethal chop.

“Eddie!” You scold. “I could’ve chopped half your hair off!”

He ignores you. He‘s got this look on his face, something close the lovesickness written across his features. Suddenly you’re feeling very dizzy.

“No one’s ever cut my hair before,” he says. “Not that I can remember, anyway. I’ve always done it myself.”

He’s talking so earnestly, with so much love, that you flush from head to foot.

“Well, no wonder it’s so bad,” you joke weakly, a sad attempt at hiding your fondness for him.

Neither of you laugh. Eddie rolls his eyes, a grin on his pretty features that makes you want to kiss him silly. His gaze falls back on you.

“Thank you,” he says, dripping in fondness, so sweet you’re sure you’re tummy aches with it.

You drop the act, allow yourself to smile, to touch his face, to look at him with the huge amount of fondness you’re feeling for him in your chest. It seeps from your heart through your ribs and to the tips of your toes and fingers.

“S’okay, Eds,” you say, your hand on his jaw, fingers pushing into his hairline. “Any time, baby.”

His grin is blinding.

#★ mal writes!#ღ eds #I KINDA LOVE THIS #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson fic #✉️

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blackshadowswriter · 1 year

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hi I wanna request where matt is about stressed out from work and his night activities and the reader (she/she pronouns) tries to help him out by riding him but she can't since he's so big, so matt says stuff like "what? can't even ride a cock? you dumb slut need me to fuck you?". and he just absolutely ruins her, hope you have a good day, thanks:)

Destressed┃Matt Murdock

Summary: Matt is stressed out about work, so naturally you do the one thing that helps him unwind. You ride him until he fucks you himself.

Warnings: smut: oral sex (male receiving), rough p in v sex, dom!Matt, degradation, bit of a taste kink, choking, dirty talk, and all the good stuff

Words: 3,068

AN: After like a month of not posting, I present this utter whore of a fic to all you thirsty bitches (it's me, I'm those thirsty bitches). Thanks for the request, anon, and I just want to let you know that I spat out my water when I got it.

You found him on the sofa with a pile of braille papers scattered around him and his computer on his lap. He had a frown edged on his face, the absence of his shaded glasses exposing the tightness around his eyes. Wound up with stress, his shoulders were squared as he slumped over several stacks of paperwork along with more on his laptop.

"Hey," you called out to him, gently shutting his apartment door behind you, dropping your bag by the door and making your way over to him.

"Hey, sweetheart," Matt murmured, looking distracted as he lifted his head from his work. "What are you doing here so early? I thought you weren't coming by until later."

"I brought you dinner," you explained, setting the takeout bag on his counter before padding over to him.

"I could smell that," he said, picking up a few stacks of paper and setting them on the side table to make room for you on the couch next to him. "But I thought you didn't get off work until later tonight."

You shrugged, settling down on the couch besides him and reaching over to kiss him. An eager groan rippled from his throat into your mouth at your touch as you lightly ran your hands through his soft, dark locks. "Got off early," you said when you pulled away to examine Matt in more detail, frowning at the terseness of his form. "You looked stressed."

He huffed out a humorless laugh. "I am," he agreed. "We had three more clients come in today. That's only adding to the pile we already had."

"Can I help?" you asked sympathetically.

Matt shook his head. "It's okay, we'll get through them. We always do."

You sighed, leaning over to kiss him again. "I don't like it when you're stressed," you admitted. "It's not good for you."

He shrugged, and you had to admit telling the man who beat people up every night that stress was not good for him sounded kinda stupid. "I'll be fine," he said, looking very much not fine. The dark circles under his eyes told you he hadn't been sleeping much. His shoulders were tight as though his workload were a physical weight on them. He hadn't shaved in a few days, so you could run your fingers along his jaw and feel the scrape of his stubble against your hand.

It was utterly unfair, you decided, how Matt could still look so gorgeous even when he was tired and stressed out. You didn't look half this hot when you were stressed. But this scruffy, slightly rumpled look on Matt had you so weak in the knees, you were lucky that you were sitting. He was still in his white dress shirt from work, the top few buttons of it undone and his tie loosened around his neck. He looked so entirely fuckable.

You blinked, surprised by your own thoughts. Jesus, where did that come from? Well, it wasn't your fault, not when Matt was sitting there looking like that.

As if sensing where your thoughts had turned, Matt tilted his head towards you, a little smirk lifting the corners of his lips up. He reached over, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you towards him. "What's gotten into that pretty little head of yours, hmm?" he asked, grinning at your hands tugging at his tie.

"I think I know a way I can help you destress," you said sweetly, dragging your nails down his hard abs, half drooling at the way his dress shirt stretched across the muscular expanse of his chest.

"Yeah?" he murmured, his large hands sliding up your shirt to glide along your skin slowly. There was a hungry gleam in his dark eyes as he licked his lips slowly. "What's that?"

You smiled coyly, reaching over to pluck his laptop from his hands and place it on the side table before climbing onto his lap. "Oh," you giggled, dragging the word out even as your hands swiftly unbuckled his pants. "I don't know."

Matt groaned when you unzipped his dress pants and slid your hand down to palm at his hardening length. "Careful, sweetheart," he warned, his grip tightening on your waist. "You might just get what you want."

Worming out of his grasp, you sank down to your knees in front of him, biting back another laugh. Keeping your eyes fixed on Matt's blank ones that were focused somewhere around your lips, you carefully tugged his pants and his boxers down to his thighs, wrapping your hand around his thick cock. "Maybe I want that," you replied sweetly.

Before Matt could reply, you licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, and his hips jerked up eagerly, a whispered curse falling from his lips. You swirled your tongue over the head of his cock and the precum dripping from the tip, licking the taste of him up into your mouth. In no mood for your teasing tonight, Matt groaned harshly, his hand knotting in your hair to push your head down towards his cock.

You obeyed, giving him what he wanted and taking as much of his throbbing length into your mouth as you could manage. The throaty moan that Matt let out at the wet, hot embrace of your mouth went straight to your dripping cunt, making you squeeze your thighs together tightly.

The slick noise of your mouth sliding up and down his cock echoed through Matt's living room like a filthy melody in his ears. He panted, rolling his hips up eagerly against you as you took him deeper until he was nearly down your throat. You kept up the pace, dragging your mouth along his cock and swirling your tongue around the head, sending thick molten lines of pleasure arcing down his spine. Rough groans and stuttering pants fell from Matt's mouth when you sped up the slick motions of your mouth along his deliciously thick cock.

"Ah! F-fuck," he stammered, his hand tightening in your hair, the hot pulses of pleasure up and down his cock coming dangerously close to his climax. "Fuck," he hissed again, tugging your head back off his cock. "Get up here, sweetheart."

You hurried to obey, climbing up onto his lap and straddling him. Left in only your panties, you slowly ground your cunt against his cock, dragging the soaked fabric against the burning line of him. Matt moaned with you, his large hands sliding up your body to cup your breasts, flicking his fingers over your hardened nipples. You whimpered quietly, your rhythm stuttering for the slightest moment.

Matt tugged at your panties. "Get these off," he growled.

You hasten to obey, peeling your wet panties off your legs and tossing them aside, uncaring of where they ended up. When you straddled Matt again, your dripping cunt hovering just inches over his thick cock, he stopped from sinking down onto him and dragged his fingers along your slit in a slow, aching line that had you whimpering and bucking your hips into his hand at the way his fingertips just barely grazed your clit. But after just one stroke up your cunt, Matt pulled his fingers away despite your desperate whine and brought them up to his lips.

And oh, you nearly collapsed as you watched him drag his tongue along the glistening slick from you on his fingers, watched the way his eyes rolled back into his head at the taste of you, watched his face morphing into one of utter bliss, the filthiest moan falling from his lips as he sucked your wetness off his fingers.

"Oh my God," you whimpered, trembling at the sight in front of you.

"Sweetheart," Matt rumbled when he removed his fingers from his mouth. "You taste so good."

"Fuck," you panted. "Shit—y-you have no idea how fucking hot that was."

A sinful smirk curved along his lips as his hand found its way back to your waist. "Yeah?" he murmured, brushing his thumb along the inside of your thigh, the minimal contact driving you insane. "Why don't you show me then, hmm? Ride my cock for me, pretty girl."

You didn't think you had ever obeyed an order faster in your life. Hurriedly, you were grasping his thick, heavy cock in your hand, lining him up against your entrance, and slowly sinking down onto him. A ragged moan was all either of you could manage with the slick, deliciously hot pleasure pushing into you and engulfing him.

An embarrassingly loud moan slipped from your mouth at the way Matt filled you up so perfectly when you sank all the way down on him. He was panting too, nothing but blazing fire and heat burning in his eyes as you took every single inch of his cock. The stretch of him felt so deliciously good, finally satiating the ache in your core.

"Matty," you gasped, unable to move for a moment as you tried to accustom yourself to his massive girth. "I—ah!—fuck, you're so big—"

"Thought I told you to ride my cock, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice dark and low when you didn't move for another few seconds. He leaned forward to brush his lips against your ear, hot breath drifting over the side of your neck. "Don't you want to be a good girl for me?"

"Y-yes," you whined. "God yes, please Matty."

His hand slithered up and grasped your chin in his large hand as Matt smiled, slow and dangerous as a predator. "Then ride my fucking cock," he ordered.

With a low whimper vibrating along your throat, you forced yourself to move even though your legs felt like jelly. Lifting yourself off his throbbing length as far as you could, you sank back down quickly onto him, moaning eagerly as you tried to ride him faster and harder.

But fuck, he was so big, and each time you ground back down on his cock, he stretched you open until you felt impossibly wide, nearly split open in the best way possible at how fucking thick he was inside of you. Your hips stuttered with your shaky rhythm as shuddering moans racked your body.

Matt's grip on your waist was almost painfully tight as you fucked yourself on his cock, his plush lips falling open slightly with each rock of your hips. He groaned out stammered praises of your name, the syllables rolling off his tongue like a sweet melody.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he panted. "That's it, you're doing so well for me. Riding my cock so well, baby."

"M-Matty," you whimpered when you rolled your hips down onto him again, and the tip of his cock grazed against something overwhelming inside of you. A broken moan spilled from your lips as your pace faltered on shaking legs, trying to accommodate his thick, aching length. "I-I need you to—to fuck me, please."

He let out a rough laugh at that, gripping your chin and yanking your head down to look at him, eyes dark and burning with liquid heat as Matt bared his teeth into a feral smirk. "What? Can't even ride my cock? You dumb slut, need me to fuck you?" he snarled.

His harsh words startled you for a moment, but what was even more startling was the way your body responded to him. A shameless moan tumbled from your lips without your permission as you clenched around him, shuddering as another gush of your wetness coated his cock.

Matt laughed again, letting go of your chin to slid his hand down to your throat, loosely wrapping his hand around your neck. "You liked that, didn't you, hmm? You like it when I talk to you like that, pretty girl? I can feel how wet you get when I call you my dumb little whore."

Another shaky whimper from your throat vibrated against Matt's palm holding your neck. You gripped his broad shoulders as you trembled on top of him. "Please," you choked out, grinding down on his cock even though Matt was fully engulfed in you. "I need it, Matt, please."

"What do you need, sweetheart? Use your words for me, and I'll give you what you want."

"I need you to fuck me," you nearly sobbed, aching and desperate for him. "God, I need it so bad, Matt—please, please, please—just fuck me—I need your cock, I need you to—"

You didn't even finish your sentence before Matt was surging upwards, flipping you around so suddenly that the world spun around you until your back hit the seat of the sofa beneath you. Matt was on top of you, kneeling between your legs where he was still completely sheathed inside of you with your legs locked around his waist. There was a single moment where he brushed his thumb against your cheek tenderly, and that was it.

He dragged his hips back slowly, and you almost cried at the feeling of him leaving you—and then he was slamming back inside of you, and the next thing you knew, Matt was fucking you into the sofa with brutal, powerful strokes reaching so deep inside of you that you could have sworn stars exploded in the corners of your vision. You would have screamed if you had the breath, but the way his cock was pounding into you absolutely punched the air out of your lungs. The most you could manage was a strangled shout before you were gasping and clawing at the worn leather underneath your fingers, trying to find something to hold onto while Matt utterly wrecked you.

And then Matt was pulled you even closer to him, never mind the fact that you were already trapped between his strong arms, and the slight change in position was enough for his cock to drive into you at a whole new angle. His next thrust ground the head of his cock up into something earth-shattering inside of you, and your body jolted underneath him as though you had been struck by lightning. A hoarse moan, bordering on a scream, tore from your throat, followed by stammered gasps of Matt's name, falling over and over again from your lips.

Your smaller hands grasped at his forearm of the hand that was wrapped around your throat, blunt nails digging into the hard muscle of his arm as your eyes squeezed shut. Each one of his hard, fast thrusts was driving up you further and further towards your peak like a wave receding before it crashed.

Groaning in sweet delight with each slam of his hips, Matt stuttered out our name between his primal grunts as he fucked into you. "Sweetheart," he slurred, sounding as drunk on this pleasure as you were. "Fuck, honey, you feel so good—so fucking good."

"Matt," you gasped out, unable and unwilling to move from underneath him where he had pinned you down with the sharp, driving rhythm of his hips. He seemed to have realized that he had found your g-spot, and now he was just pounding mercilessly into you there, the pleasure of it so sharp and overwhelming it completely stole your breath away. Fire was coursing like liquid lava through your veins, going straight to your brain and making your head spin. Choked, ragged moans were all you could squeeze out from your throat, constricted from both Matt's hand around it and this utterly devastating pleasure ripping through you.

"So tight for me, sweetheart," Matt grunted. "Fuck—I can feel you squeezing me like that—ah!"

A strangled sob echoed through the room as you dug your heels into Matt's hips, encouraging him further. His pace picked up until he was fucking you so hard, the sofa was slowly sliding across the floor in small, stuttered skids.

"Such a good girl," he praised. "Taking my cock so well, baby."

You cried his name out again as he drove his cock up again, slamming straight into that spot with brutal accuracy, and then you were shouting—screaming—hoarsely as orgasm suddenly surged up over you, burning hot and furious as it scorched its way through every single nerve in your body. Your hands clawed uselessly at his forearm as you sobbed and twitched around him, clenching hard around his cock still pounding into you even as your vision went completely white for a few moments. That bone-deep pleasure was blazing deep inside of you, searing and branding itself on your fucking soul.

"Oh my fucking God, Matt!"

Matt's pace grew rough and frantic as your cunt continued fluttering around him even while the tendrils of orgasm were slowly receding from your limp form. He was panting and groaning your name, but the sound of it was muffled by the blood rushing in your ears. He drove into you once—twice—three more times, and then he was moaning brokenly against your throat where he'd pressed his face against your neck. You hadn't even noticed when he had he removed his hand from there, too caught up in your own bliss.

He buried himself inside of you to the hilt, and his body shook on top of yours as he finally let go, weeks of stress melting off his shoulders as he emptied himself in you, hot spurts of his release filling you up until he had nothing left to give you.

With a satisfied groan, Matt dropped his head into the curve of your neck with a low, almost reverent whisper of "sweetheart." Even though your arms, along with the rest of your body, were practically putty, you reached up to gently run your fingers through Matt's damp hair.

"Mmm," you hummed lazily. "I might have to thank whichever client got you so stressed because if that's what it takes to get you to fuck me like that...I'm sorry, babe, but I am going to refer Nelson and Murdock to everyone I know."

Matt snorted. "Sweetheart, I'll fuck you anyway you want as long as you don't do that."

"Oh well, in that case..."

You felt his lips curve into a smile against your neck. Matt lifted his head up and kissed you warmly, his pretty dark eyes focused on you. "Thank you for that, sweetheart."

"Oh absolutely. I'm always here if you want to just, you know, ruin me again. Totally down for it anytime."

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AN: Apologies for the very inconsistent posting schedule, I've just been writing whenever I can between work and life and classes and shit, so thanks for bearing with me, yall <3

If you enjoyed, please remember to like, comment, and reblog! 🖤

Matt Murdock Masterlist

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