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scoonsalicious · 3 days
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Unwanted: Chapter 29, Unarmed, Redux - Pt. 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of violence, death, talking about feelings, finally being honest and getting shit out there.
Word Count: 2.1k
Previously On...: Tony filled you in on what's happened since your showdown with Carthage.
A/N: Send in the Barnes!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
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“Doll.” Your eyes shot open at the sound of Bucky’s husky whisper. He stood in the doorway, staring at you like he was seeing a ghost. He was still wearing the same clothes he wore when he’d rescued you– covered in dried blood, both yours and the Hydra agents he’d taken down. His right eye was a riot of black and blue bruises, nearly swollen shut, his lip cut.
“Hey, soldier,” you said softly. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“I’m surprised you wanted to see me at all, doll,” he said forlornly. “After everything I put you through, I’d be done with me if I were you.”
You offered him a soft half-smile. “Come here,” you said, using your good arm to pat the space on the bed next to you.
Bucky looked between you and the spot you indicated with confusion, as if he weren’t sure he’d heard your offer correctly. But he walked over to you like a man condemned, and you wondered briefly if he expected you to tell him you were well and truly done with him now. As if you could ever be. You were pretty positive by now that, in spite of everything, you truly couldn’t live without him.
Gently, so as not to jostle you, Bucky sat down on the bed, though making sure not to touch you. You weren’t going to have any of that, though, so you reached across with your good arm and tugged him toward you until he was snug against your left shoulder. It hurt a little bit, but it was worth it to have him close.
Bucky looked down at where your left arm should have been, tucked underneath your hospital gown and hidden from view, as it was, in its sling. “I see you’ve come unarmed, doll.” He offered a weak smile.
You threw your head back and laughed, and it felt so good to feel good in his presence again. “You got jokes, Barnes,” you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Speaking of jokes, what the fuck happened to your face?”
Bucky raised a hand to his face, gently poking at the swollen tissue. “Little gift from Stark,” he said. “For everything I put you through. Can’t say I didn’t earn it.”
You frowned, moving your hand up to gently caress his cheek. “He shouldn’t have done that,” you told him softly. Bucky looked down at you. “I deserved it, doll. I deserved that and so much worse, for everything I did to you. You almost died– fuck, you did die, and it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t let Carthage think there could be something between us, if I hadn’t led her on, none of this would have happened. You never would have gotten hurt, never had your heart broken. We’d be getting ready for our baby, and I wouldn’t have betrayed you over and over again–”
“Baby,” you said, putting your hand gently to his lips so as not to disturb the cut, “Stop. I’m not saying you’re blameless, but it’s not all entirely your fault, either. Carthage… Carthage had a mission, same as Soldat had missions. Maybe she wasn’t wiped the way you were, still had some control over her own mind, but she was programmed to want to get you just as surely as Soldat was programmed to kill. She would have come for me, no matter what, because I was an obstacle to that mission. It wouldn’t have mattered, I don’t think, if you had never spoken to her. I was always going to be in her way.”
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t hurt you, though. In so many horrible ways.”
The two of you sat in silence for a moment, each lost in your own thoughts.
“How’re you holding up?” he asked eventually, gently petting your hair. “And I mean mentally, not physically.”
You sighed. “Everything happened so quickly, you know?” Bucky hummed in agreement. “It was like: Boom! Chloe died! Boom! Lost a baby, almost died! Boom! Kidnapped, beaten up! Boom! Shot, almost died! It all still feels like it happened to someone else, and I haven’t really had a chance to let myself feel it, you know?”
Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I get it. But when it does hit, it’s going to hit hard, I think.”
“Probably,” you agreed. “I think I need to find a new therapist that’s not an A.I.” you told him. “Not that Tony’s program isn’t great– I just… Did you know Carthage hacked into my session feeds?”
Bucky’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Fuck. Doll, that’s an awful violation of your privacy. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s… she… she took what she learned about me from my sessions, and she used them to manipulate you, to hurt us,” you told him.
Bucky tensed beside you. “What do you mean?”
“Her ‘advice’ to you?” you said. “About what she liked in bed, to spice up our relationship?” Bucky nodded slowly, and you could tell he was ashamed with himself at the memory. “Well, she tailored it specifically with what she knew would be most upsetting to me, what would hurt me the most, so I would be angry at you, be the most hurt by you.”
Bucky swallowed, and you noticed his fists clenching next to you. “And I played right into it,” he said, shaking his head. He was furious; at both Carthage and himself, you could see that. “I was so fucking stupid; I didn’t see what she truly was until it was too late, and I let her play me like a fiddle.”
“You wanted a friend who understood you,” you said. Yes, you were still hurt by everything that he’d done, and you probably would be for a long, long time, but the truth of it was, now that you’d seen what Carthage truly was, had witnessed the depths of her manipulation of him, your anger toward him had significantly abated. Maybe you were being foolish. Stupid, naive. Maybe you were making all the wrong decisions, but your heart was always going to pull you back to Bucky Barnes. He was a gravitational force you just couldn’t escape. 
“I had friends,” Bucky argued softly. “I have you, and Steve, and fucking Big Bird. I didn’t need her. Why did I think I needed her, Pocket?”
You shrugged, taking his hand in yours. “Hydra had you for 70 years,” you told him, “and during that entire time, you were alone. Surrounded by people, but you were all alone. It makes sense that you would seek out someone who, based on what we all thought we knew about her, had been through something similar. I mean, how could any of us understand, really, what sort of horrors you’d gone through, when you don’t even understand all of them, yourself?
“She came packaged as this perfect counterpoint to you. And we know she was trained– educated, basically, in how to get to you. She basically had a Master’s degree in Bucky Barnes.”
Bucky snorted. “It’s still not an excuse for my actions, doll,” he said.
“No,” you began carefully, “it’s not. But it’s a mitigating factor that will be used in determining your sentence,” you said with a small smile.
“Have to say, sweets, I’d been fully expecting a life sentence of you never speaking to me again.”
“Yeah, that was what the jury was initially thinking, but upon further review of the evidence, they may be willing to bring it down to time served and supervised probation going forward.”
He looked at you, eyes blazing with hope, but almost instantly, his face fell. “Doll, how can you say that? I fucking slept with her! How can you still want to be with me after that?”
You sat up a little straighter, slowly this time, so as not to disturb your injuries. “Did you know Jade recorded the two of you?” you asked him carefully. “In the Russian safehouse?”
Bucky went pale and moved away from you. “No,” he whispered. “No, I didn’t know that. Oh God, Pocket– did she… did she make you watch it?”
You nodded, and Bucky put his head in his hands. “Oh, fuck. Doll. I am so sorry. I never wanted you to see that. It was bad enough that it happened, but for you to have had to witness it–”
“Buck,” you pulled his hands away from his face. “Buck, it’s okay. I’m glad I saw it, actually.”
Bucky looked at you with wide, disbelieving eyes. “What?!” he asked. “How… how can you be glad?! I cheated on you, I broke your trust– again! How can that make you anything but disgusted with me?”
“Okay, let’s take this one step at a time,” you said, repositioning your hands so you could interlock your fingers with his. “First of all, it wasn’t cheating. We technically weren’t together, so you could have slept with whomever you wanted to. I don’t love that it was her, but we weren’t committed.”
“It felt like cheating,” Bucky bemoaned. “I hated myself the entire time.”
“I appreciate that,” you said. “But you need to know that, while I did hate that you slept with her, I would have gotten over that, eventually. That wasn’t what I was upset about, after.” 
“It was the lying and not telling you what happened after I got back,” Bucky offered, and you nodded. “I didn’t get your messages about the articles until after I’d done it,” he said. “And I felt like the biggest fucking idiot. Of course you never would have done that to me. You’ve always been too good for me. I think I was projecting my own guilt onto you, and that was so fucked up of me. I was so scared of losing you when you were willing to give me another chance, I just ended up pushing you further away.”
“It doesn’t help that you had a snake whispering in your ear,” you said. When he looked at you, confused, you continued: “I’m not absolving you of all guilt, because you still had autonomy; you still made your own decisions, but I saw how she fed into your insecurities, in the video. How she played up your fears, and used them to manipulate you. How she took your anger and disappointment and used it to her advantage. I also saw how you had to think about me in order to get it up for her,” you added with a smirk.
Bucky blushed. “Caught that, did you? I don’t think Carthage did; though I wasn’t trying to be subtle about it, to be honest.”
“No,” you said with a smile. “She didn’t catch it, and she most certainly wasn’t happy when I pointed it out to her. Was quite pissed when I laughed about it to her face.”
“Oh God,” said Bucky. “That must have infuriated her.”
“How’d you think I got the broken arm?” you asked cheekily. 
“That fucking bitch,” Bucky hissed between clenched teeth. 
“It was worth it,” you assured him. “She took your pain at what you thought I’d done, and she twisted it, made you a victim. I’d break all my bones if it meant she paid for what she did to you.”
“I don’t understand how you can be so forgiving about all of this,” he said.
You snorted. “Would you rather I just cut you out of my life forever?”
“No!” Bucky looked up at you, alarmed. “Never– I just… I just don’t understand how you can be so… okay about it, after everything.”
You shrugged. “Well, I did die; certain things seem trivial, now. Maybe I’ve got, like, ancient death wisdom or something.”
Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Not funny,” he said, tugging you gently to him. “I’ve never been more scared in my life than I was when I thought I lost you.”
“I know,” you hummed. “You snapped Carthage’s neck.”
Bucky flinched. “I wish I could say I’m sorry I did that, but I’m not. I know I swore off killing a long time ago… but when it was you in danger? I don’t have any regrets. I’d do it again, even if it makes me the fucking monster everyone says I am.” 
“Thank you,” you said to him. 
“For what?” he asked. “Killing her?”
“For choosing me over her. When it really mattered.”
“Figured it was about time I started showin’ you I meant it, doll,” he said with a sad smile.
“And for what it’s worth,” you added, “I don’t think you’re a monster. I think you slayed one, and as far as I’m concerned, that makes you my hero.”
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reiderwriter · 2 months
Note
Hi Kacie!! Now that your requests are open... Could I request a smutty fic where Spencer finds out reader has a not-so-common sensitive spot (like her legs, hair, arms, whatever body part you want). Maybe he finds out kinda in a public setting after she gets all flustered and wants to keep pushing to test his theory?? You can take as much inspo from this as you want<3
(If this emoji's not taken)-💃 anon
A/N: Hello! Sorry for going MIA for a while there. It was the beginning of a new school year here in SK, so I've been really busy! I've been chipping away at this one little by little, and it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it ♡
Warnings; Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, case details, misogyny from a bartender in the opening scene, Semi-public sexual experimentation, edging, PinV sex, use of pet names (good girl), slight degradation, cum play, etc.
Masterlist
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The back of the bar was dimly lit as you walked through it, keeping pace with your teammate as you kept one eye on the shady inhabitants of the bar. 
You'd been sent - with Spencer of all people - to ask the local dive bar staff about suspicious regulars. A fact that didn't exactly take into account his general lack of intimidating looks and your status as the newest member of the team. 
A trial by fire if you'd ever seen one. 
You tried your best not to stick out like a sore thumb, but the people in these parts could spot a Fed from a mile away. And though Spencer was remarkably pipe-cleaner-like, they'd certainly recognised enough FBI in him to clam up upon your entrance. 
“We got some visitors, I see. What can I be getting you, little lady?” The barman greeted you as you reached the first stool at the counter, a patronizing smile on his moustache clad lips. 
“If it's okay, we'd like to ask you some questions. I'm Agent Y/N with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“You're a Fed? Now, why would you bother doing all that hard work when you could be warming my bed, girl. It's definitely more honest and satisfying work.” 
The way the man leered at you over the counter has you freezing momentarily. Your instincts were saying fight, but you held your tongue just long enough to not ruin any rapport your team could build with locals. 
“I'm flattered, but already spoken for I'm afraid. Have you seen any suspicious men in here in the last six months, one that would pass through only semi-regularly, maybe with a few female companions, though never the same.” 
Professionalism at the cost of your peace of mind was going to be a hard learn for you as you grit your teeth and swallowed the bile in your throat. 
He just continued to leer at you as he dried up beer glasses. 
“You're looking for a man who likes cheap whores? Maybe you are in the market for a career change after all.” 
That was about all you could take, and luckily, Spencer Reid was well aware. 
Quickly grabbing you by the wrist, he pulled you behind him defensively and leaned over the bar, his voice low and somewhat chilling. 
“Disrespect my partner like that again, and I'll have you charged with aiding and abetting a murderer who has kidnapped and ended the lives of three local girls. Local girls whose fathers you're more than likely acquainted with, who absolutely have multiple acres of property and just enough bullets to put you in the ground.” 
The blood rushed to your ears at his voice, but the light grip of your wrist held you in place indefinitely. 
All the fight left your body, as you found yourself coming dangerously close to melting into Spencer in relief. 
He forced the man to answer some more basic questions, but it wasn't as if you could hear them. He stroked a quick thumb back and forth across your wrist as all the thoughts fled your head, and the words fell asleep on your tongue, resting there until he released you from his grip. 
You'd known that the area was slightly sensitive for a while, having accidentally brushed up against things and felt serious chills shoot up your spine. What you hadn't known was that it was that kind of sensitivity. 
Though, in all honesty, you hadn't exactly known that you could feel that kind of excitement for Spencer either. You just hoped he wouldn't notice. That much. 
Having finished his line of questioning and reiterating his threat, he moved his hand from your wrist to the small of your back and adeptly guided you from the restaurant and out of the line of vision of every pair of eyes in the place. 
“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally got you to the car, voice still quiet and low, and slightly too close to let you fully relax. 
“Peachy. He talked to you at least.” You turned away from him and began opening the passenger side door. 
“Nothing new or useful, though. Your bpm is high,” he joined you in the car, putting on his seat belt while you completely let go of yours, letting it zip back into itself.
“My… my what?” 
“Your bpm is high. Your heart was beating so fast,” he said, reaching over you to help you reclip it. “Were you nervous, Y/n? Or just sensitive?”
“Your mouth is entirely too close to mine to be asking that question,” you breathed out, cursing your eyes from stealing a glance at his lips. 
Only five minutes into this sudden attraction to Spencer Reid, and you were already mortified and extremely horny. In equal measures. 
“What would be the appropriate distance to ask that, then?” 
“I hear Australia is lovely this time of year.” 
He chuckled softly at you as he finished adjusting your seat and then moved far enough away to let the ground swallow you in peace. 
Never one to leave well enough alone, it seemed that Spencer took it upon himself to experiment with you for weeks on end after that. 
He'd constantly ask you to pass him papers, pens, anything that'd allow him to run a finger across the inside of your wrist. On more than one occasion you'd caught him staring into your eyes as he did it, and it took a nearly embarrassing amount of time to realise he was checking how dilated your pupils were before and after. 
When he'd gathered enough data for that line of questioning, he moved on to bigger things. 
You knew you were in danger of seriously falling head over ads when he offered to walk you to your motel door in a seedier case location. 
You, an FBI agent with a real-life gun and badge and job at Quantico, and you were jumping at the chance to have a man walk you to your room. You'd have been embarrassed if you weren't burning with anticipation. 
You hoped that like every other man in history, he was gently trying to insinuate himself into your bedroom, and by extension, your bed and more intimate places. 
So you were more than slightly disappointed when he started wishing you a good night. All of the aforementioned disappointment fled your body, though, when he picked up your hand and dropped a kiss to the inside of your left wrist, repeating the action on the right before wordlessly retreating. 
You stared at his back as he walked purposefully down the corridor and into his own room, leaving you to pick up your jaw and retreat to your room to lick your wounds. 
You wished it was him picking you up instead and found your brain imagining just that as your fingers dropped between your thighs that night. 
It became a case tradition for him to tease you like this, kissing your wrist after innocently walking you back to your hotel room. The others thought it chivalrous, almost cute and childlike, a form of courting that graced the good old days. They didn't know he grabbed you by the waist and held you against his hard-on every time you rode an elevator together. They didn't know his tongue darted out a few times to lick your wrist on occasion. They didn't know how you once mentally begged him to bite you there and how you shuddered as he ran his teeth along the vein there. 
Spencer was coming to the crux of his research regarding how far he could push you before you cracked. Only now, it was how far he could get without pushing you against a wall and jumping your bones. 
You knew you were in danger when he offered to escort you home after a case. 
“To walk you to your door, you know? Like always,” he smiled at you, the picture of innocence as you became damp between your thighs. 
“Sure. Yeah, okay, I'll get my keys, let's go.” 
You weren't sure how no one else noticed that Spencer didn't have a car to drive himself home after taking you to yours. You were unsure if they'd connect the dots between him escorting you home and his own apartment being 45 minutes in the opposite direction. 
Luckily for you, you could keep your hands at 2 and 10 the entire journey, away from his grasp. If he'd have touched you right then, you're sure you'd have driven both of you right off the road into a ditch. 
Or a pedestrian. 
The drive was calm, but pulling up forced your heart to your throat and kept it suspended there, almost like it was frozen at gunpoint, a deer in the headlights. 
“We're here.” 
“Great. Let me walk you in.” 
In. You swallowed hard, wishing very much for him to be inside of your apartment. 
“Okay.” 
Stepping into the elevator a few minutes later, he waited mere seconds after the doors began closing to pull you into his personal space. He was hard, he was so hard once again and his cock was now straining against your ass.
“Spencer, we need to talk about t-that,” he stroked your wrist as his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you firmly against him. 
“About what, Y/N?” 
He pulled your arm up almost as if inspecting the wrist for imperfections, and your head melted back into his chest. Why was this elevator so goddamn slow? 
You sprung out quickly when the doors pinged open finally and moved straight towards your door without a glance back, but you felt him close behind you. 
“Y/N, wait for me, wait, I'm sorry,” he called out quietly as you forced your keys into the lock as fast as possible. 
“Y/N, I'm sorry if I stepped over the line, I didn't mean too, please look at me-” 
You got the door open and turned back around to grab a firm hold of his tie and yank him into the apartment behind you. 
“Months. Spencer, you have been edging me for months, and I am sick of it.” You half growled at him, slamming the door behind him and then pushing him up against it. 
“I can feel how hard you are right now. Obviously you want to fuck me, so why aren't you?” 
His face went from shocked to intrigued, then shot straight for mischievous as he cracked a smile, and you felt his hands wrap around your wrists slowly. 
Before you could react, he had your positions swapped, your arms above your head pinned at the wrists and his breath hitting your neck as he answered. 
“I wanted to see how long it would take you to break.” 
Your lips leapt to his, hitting him angrily as you searched for more pleasure in his touch, one leg pushing up to wrap around his waist as his hips settled between yours. 
He met you at your level, giving just as good as he got.   
“Call it scientific curiosity,” he murmured, lips trailing down your neck, but hips pinning you in closer to the wall, keeping you trapped there. He made his way along your shoulders and then pressed light teasing kisses up your arms while rutting his hips into you, dry humping you against the wall as your eyes glazed over in lust. 
“You react when I touch you, you heat up. But it gets worse if I touch you here, right Y/N?” His lips again found your wrist, but this time his teeth grazed across the veins he found there. 
“You get so horny now when I look at you. I can grab your wrist and make you beg for my cock, isn't that right?” His mouth was back by your ear as your legs went limp under you. He still had you caged against your own door, and you had no idea what to say to that. 
Part of you wanted to protest purely because of the rough tone of voice he was using. The other wanted to flood to the floor and tell him yes, beg him to just fuck you and be done with this pure torture. 
“I asked you a question, Y/N. Isn't that right?” 
“Yes, yes, Spencer fuck, I don't care anymore, yes. You can touch me and I'll react to you, please help me.”
“Good girl.” 
He pulled away instantly, but his hands wrapped firmly still around your wrists. Slowly, he pulled you towards him as he slowly walked backwards further into your apartment. You thought for a second about just throwing yourself back into his arms, to close the space he'd created again between the two of you. 
You tried it, lifted your head slightly, begging his lips to return there, but he held firm. Each step was an agony of need, and you fought to hold your tongue, begging yourself not to beg him so pathetically. 
“Such a good girl, I'm holding you by the wrist, and you won't even protest about how slow I'm being.” 
Your mouth fell open as you registered his words. 
“You're being an ass.” 
“What was that? You want me to touch your ass?”
“Spencer!”
“Don't worry, we'll get to that.”
His back finally made contact with your bedroom door, and you stumbled forward into his chest as he kept his grip even still. 
“You're going to listen, right? You're going to listen to me and do what I ask you to do, aren't you?”
You wavered again. He'd been teasing you, but now he was serious, his tone light and his voice soft, but you could feel the strength in his grip. You could feel his arousal at your hip. 
“Yes, Spencer.”
“Good. Get on your knees on the bed. No clothes.”
He released your hands and opened the door for you as you tried your best to walk forward calmly. 
By the time you reached the bed, you'd removed most of your clothes, but you hesitated at the underwear as he watched from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder saw him palming his cock through his pants, still leaning against the door he'd opened for you. 
He was getting off watching you, and you were frozen in arousal. 
“No clothes, Y/N.” 
“I know.”
“Underwear is clothing.” 
“I know that, too, Spencer.”
“Then take it off.” 
You shot a quick glare over your shoulder as you unclaimed your bra behind your back and threw it to the floor. 
“On my knees, right?” You said, climbing on the bed still clad in your panties. 
“I also said no clothes.” 
“If you're so invested in my state of dress, how about you come and help me rectify it.”
His lips twitched in small annoyance, but he followed the trail of clothes you'd left, ridding himself of his tie, shirt, jacket, and pants along the way. 
He climbed on the bed slowly behind you, not opposite as you'd presumed he would. His hands reached out to touch your back before slowly sliding all the way up to your neck and pushing your upper body down into the sheets. 
You let out a little squeak in shock, but let his hands guide you, feeling especially pliant when he grabbed your hands and crossed them behind your back. 
“Maybe the panties can stay. I'll just decorate them afterwards,” he said, and with that, he pulled your hips up with his free hand  guiding you into the position he wanted you in, and pushed two fingers into you. 
“Fuck, Spencer-” your brain short circuited as he pumped the digits slowly in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace but holding you so tight that.you couldn't even press your cunt back into his fingers. 
“What? What is it, Y/N? Tell me how you feel?” 
“Feel good, so good Spencer, p-please more.” 
He shifted slowly behind you, pulling his fingers out almost completely before pushing them back in, this time with another finger added. He didn't quicken his pace as you assumed he would, but he took his time stretching you out further as you moaned and whined underneath him. 
“More. You wanted more,” he reminded you, and his voice was like a sharp hit straight to your cunt, rough and hot and filling you completely. 
You barely registered the orgasm that flowed over you, your brain replaying his words on a loop as he continued pleasuring you. 
“That's it. That's a good girl. Get my fingers nice and wet.” 
When you finally grounded yourself in the moment again, your cheeks flushed as you realized just how wet you'd gotten. You felt your arousal still dripping down your leg and turned your face further into the sheets to hide your embarrassment. 
He pulled his fingers out of you, though, and with his now free hand he crouched over you and hooked his fingers under your jaw lifting your head and body up, forcing your crotch back into his as your back arched. 
“Don't hide from this. Look how wet you are for me, Y/N. Taste it.” He tapped his fingers against your mouth and you were ashamed at how fast your lips dropped open, tongue falling out to let him wipe his cum stained fingers against your pretty little lips. 
You tasted yourself on his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking as he dragged his dick across your back, trying to relieve himself in any way he could. 
“Good girl. It's time for one more, Y/N.” 
You released his fingers with a wet pop as he pushed you back into the sheets. Lining himself up, he entered you easily, your cum providing ample lubricant. 
You whined at his first few pumps, certain he was going to continue his torturous pace and leave you begging for more hours into the night. 
Instead, he let himself work you up to it, each thrust gaining in speed and strength until you could hear the slap of your skin against his more vividly than your own heartbeat. 
His cock was thick, filling you perfectly as you lost yourself in the sensations. 
“One day, I'll handcuff you to this bed,” he said, leaning down and whispering in your ear as each part of your body vibrated with lust. 
“I'll tie you down to this bed, and I'll treat you like a princess. I'll eat your cunt for hours until you cum every time my breath hits your cunt, and I'll cover your pretty tits in my seed. I'll let you use my cock as your personal sex toy, and I'll fulfill every single need you have.” 
His hand released your wrists as both of his hands came to wrap around your waist, pushing you deeper into the plush covers and changing the angle of his dick. 
You screamed at the pleasure, forgetting the paper thin walls your apartment boasted. 
“Fuck, Spencer.” 
“And you're going to love every single second because your brain switches off every time I touch your delicate little wrists.”
With that, another wave of pleasure spread through your body, sending prolonged shivers throughout your body. 
You felt him withdraw and heard the sticky mess of him stroking himself behind you until he made good on his promise and sprayed his generous load across your ass and panties before collapsing on the bed next to you. 
The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, sharing nothing but your labored breaths and the space of the bed before he finally rose. 
You tried not to sleep, but your entire body felt stiff from the awkward, if enjoyable, position he'd held you in. 
Your eyes drifted shut, and you just listened to his movements. A creaking floorboard here, a stumble against some furniture there, culminating in some running water and a return to your space. 
“Y/N,” he whispered, cautious to rise you from what he assumed was much needed sleep. 
“Mmmm,” was all you could reply.
“I realize now that I made a pretty big mess, so we need to get you in the bath.” 
“Mmm,” you protested, brows furrowing as you tried to gather your sheets closer around you, cradling yourself in the warmth. 
But doing so only made you more aware of the sticky wet mess around your torso and legs, and you let out a small, frustrated sigh. 
“You're stubborn, you know that, right?” He said, admiration coating his tongue as he lifted you slowly and helped you place your feet on the floor and walk towards your bathroom. 
“Spencer, shouldn't have a bath, too sleepy.” 
“I know, I'm going to stay.”
“In the bath?” 
“In the bath.” 
“Good.”
And it was. You let him lift your legs one by one into the scorching water and melted back into him, your head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most comfortable pillow you'd ever used, and you slept. 
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sebsbarnes · 6 months
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confessions || tangerine
tangerine x f!reader
summary: "you're beautiful you know that love," tangerine said softly as if the declaration was a secret that only the space between you could know.
warnings: mention of a gun, injuries, blood
word count: 1.1k ; fluff
tangerine masterlist
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you jolted awake, "what the hell," you mumbled.
eyes half open you patted around on the bed for your phone. the blaringly bright picture of a sunset staring back at you.
4:07am.
the noise that woke you up sounded again. banging at your front door. carefully you slipped out of bed and opened the drawer to your nightstand, grabbing the gun. slowly, you walked through the house creeping towards the door. the house felt eerily quiet more so than ever. the gun was held behind your back and before you could turn the doorknob you hear a voice.
"it's me."
you opened the door, "why are- jesus christ tangerine."
he smiled weakly at you, sort of shrugging, the suit jacket draped over his arm moving with.
"hey, love," he said dejectedly.
his typically smoothed back hair showed no sign of gel as his curls were a mess. the fitted suit that adorns his body was now loose with blood splattered sporadically on the fabric. the button-down shirt rolled up on his arms exposed his battered forearms. there was dirt on parts of his face, dried blood across his cheek and forehead, and a split lip.
"come in," you whispered, grabbing his hand pulling him in.
you locked the door and turned to the kitchen with tangerine still in tow. you turned the lights on in the kitchen, grabbing him water and pain reliever.
"eat these if you need something. i'm going to grab the first aid kit, alright?" you placed a box of crackers next to him on the counter and retreated to a hallway closet. when you came back, he was munching on a few and the glass of water in his other hand.
"okay now, what's the worst?"
"some prick got me in the thigh with glass," he grimaced gesturing to the torn trousers. you leaned in gently placing your hands on his thigh around the cut.
"take your pants off."
"well, that's quite forward love now, innit?" tangerine chuckled softly.
all you could do was roll your eyes as you turned around giving him a moment to hop off the counter and remove his pants. when you turned back around you couldn't help but swallow harshly at the man's muscular thighs.
"there's still bits of glass in this babes, i'm gonna have to take it out," tangerine hummed in response, clearly tired from whatever job he just came back from.
you grabbed a pair of tweezers and removed small pieces of glass left inside the wound and all tangerine could do was hiss in response. the wound was then cleaned and after tangerine gave you the greenlight, he let you stitch him up.
"now don't go fuckin' around you hear me. that's a good stitch," you said pointing at the finished product.
"yeah whatever darlin'," tangerine retorted.
you moved up to his face to clean the dirt and blood off him. you slid between his legs to get closer, fingertips accidently brushing over his thigh as you grabbed the rag next to him on the counter. you didn't notice the goosebumps that sprang to life on his skin and raced throughout his body. your lips were slightly pursed as the rag glided across his cheeks, wiping away the evidence of an earlier job.
tangerine couldn't help but stare at you during your concentration. the way your eyes danced across his face inspecting every minute detail. your eyelashes- god since when were they that long? he couldn't help the tiny smile that etched its way onto his lips hearing the small whistle your nose made as you breathed in and out. it was something you mentioned in passing that you hated, after your nose was broken on a job. small freckles decorated the bridge of your nose, and a now almost faded scar followed the curve of your cheekbone.
"you're beautiful you know that love," tangerine said softly as if the declaration was a secret that only the space between you could know.
you faltered slightly. you and tangerine were friends. any compliments thrown each other's way was typically about work. you often worked with the twins on jobs so the three of you were close. the dynamics on and off the job the three of you had was truly incredible. many people wanted the trio because they knew the job would be a success, most likely bloody, but still successful.
to even try and deny the fact that tangerine is gorgeous was absolutely ridiculous. when you first saw him, you truly went breathless for a moment. there was no way this man was in the business of killing was one of your first thoughts, he had to be a model of some sort. and as if his looks weren't enough, when he wasn't being a complete dickhead, he had the most charming and witty personality. it was intimidating being around him most times, the feeling of insecurity often loomed around you when he was nearby.
you looked him in the eye before averting your attention to his split lip, "why didn't you go home?"
"found myself wandering this way," he said slipping off the counter.
"bit far from your house," you whispered in return. tangerine brushed a strand of hair out of your eye, his thumb running over your cheek.
"no distance is too far for you, darlin'."
you aren't quite sure where these confessions were coming from, but you would be a fool to say you hated it. it was obvious how you felt about tangerine. you knew it, he knew it, lemon knew it, damn near everyone knew it.
"i didn't know you could be a sap," you gave him a slight smirk.
his eyes fluttered shut for a moment, "today was too risky, thought i could solo it, make some extra money. it was stupid. all i could think about was you," he confessed.
you toyed with the gold chain hanging on his exposed chest before gently tugging on it, bringing him to you. the kiss was soft but long. in the midst of the kiss tangerine had placed you on the counter, finding home between your legs and holding your waist carefully. your hands situated on the base of his skull tugging ever so slightly on his hair. tangerine's mouth parted slightly in reaction allowing you to bite gently on his lip, ignoring the fact you can taste blood. with a sigh you both finally pulled apart. his hands never left your waist.
"c'mon, let's go to bed," you said.
tangerine wasted no time scooping you up in his arms, ignoring all the aches from today's job. 'i've waited months to hear these words,' he had muttered in your hair making his way through your house.
"i've waited just as long."
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Text
This is what I think living with Beefy!Bucky would look like:
THERE ARE TWO PARTS, SFW AND NSFW (please read the warnings before you start reading, and lemme know if I missed anything!)
Warnings: allusions towards sex, allusions towards unprotected sex, shower sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, spitting on v and Beefy!Bucky being hot (yes that's a warning). Please feel free to DM me if I missed anything :) SFW:
Bucky would walk around only in sweatpants (of your choice, obvi🤭). His muscular chest and back are on display 24/7, and he'll only wear a Henley (you bought one in every colour for his birthday) during the winter.
You would only wear either one of his T-shirts or Henleys around, with a pair of underwear and that's it.
Ya'll cook dinner together every night. Bucky bought an old record player so, he could play all the old records you got him for Christmas. And while dinner is cooking, he'll pull you to the side by your waist then slow dance with you to either Ella Fitzgerald or Frank Sinatra.
"C'mon, doll. The rice is not going to get burnt. It's jus' one dance. F'me?" He smiles, as he pulls you in by your waist. You smile at your man begrudgingly, and place your palms on his bare chest, "fine. But just one song." You say in your playfully stern voice. Bucky laughs and presses a kiss to your hairline, "anything for you, doll."
You sweep and dust, Bucky mops and vacuums.
He'll let you get any household accessory for ya'll's apartment, whether it be a trinket, a fake cactus, or a picture frame.
"Are you sure?" You ask, holding onto the snow globe with a little glass dachshund inside of it. Bucky laughs and rubs your back, "s'fine doll, I think it'll look great next to the record player," he gives in to your want to buy the snow globe. You squealed when you first saw it, and Bucky knew he had to get it immediately.
You'll be singing a song with headphones on, making some coffee in the kitchen, and just dancing wildly. And Bucky would just lean against the wall of the hallway, just staring at you lovingly.
Laundry day is actually fun, you would fold the cleaned and dried linen and clothes. While Bucky would put them back in their drawers and shelves (using his astonishingly tall height).
NSFW(alright here we go):
If you're bending over the counter to wipe a specific mark that won't go away, Bucky won't be able to hold himself back.
You bite your lip in concentration and scrub at the mark with a wet sponge, but it doesn't go away. Suddenly, you feel two large hands grab at your hips and pull you back. "Fuck me, doll. You can't do that," he growls into your ear, slowly shoving your underwear aside. You giggle and ask what does he mean. "You can't be bent over the counter and then not expect me to fuck you," he shoves his own sweatpants down. You roll your eyes, as you feel the tip of him at your entrance. "Bucky," you whine, slightly pushing your hips back in his direction. "Yes, sweetheart?" he smirks, pressing his lips against your neck. "Buck, I need you," you softly moan and throw your head back against his shoulder. "Oh I know baby, me too," he whispers in her ear.
When he comes home after a long day, and hear's you in the shower, he will not hesitate to jump in with you.
He drags himself to your shared bathroom and hears the creaky pipes of your shower being used. He smiles and walks into the bathroom. You smile when you see him, "Hey, love. How was your day?" He smiles as he starts undressing before hopping in the shower with you, "better now that I'm here with you." He kisses you passionately before pushing you up against the wall, he slightly bends and grabs the back of your thighs. "Jump" is the only word he growls against your lips. You giggle and jump slightly, and your legs are wrapped around his waist as he uses his godly strength to hold you up against the wall. You moan, as you feel him rub his tip on your sensitive button. "Bucky, baby, please," you whine as you grip onto his broad shoulders. "Oh doll, you don't have to beg me. I going to fuck you either way."
Morning sex is an everyday thing that happens at y'all's apartment. He'll either wake you up to the scene of him in between your thighs. OR. He'll wake you up with his cock inside of you. Either way, you're not complaining.
You stir at the tingly feeling between your thighs, and you open your eyes groggily to see Buck (and his beefiness) wrapping your thighs around his head. He winks and smirks at you, "mornin', doll." He licks a thick strip up your slit, and you arch your back at the sudden sensation, "ah! Bucky!" Bucky continues to swivel his tongue over your clit, knowing how much you love it. Your moans slowly get louder, as Bucky soon pokes at your hole with his thick fingers. Soon you're wailing in pleasure, and grabbing at Bucky's hair begging him to make you come. "Come f'me, princess," he says before spiting harshly on your pussy.
🎀🎀🎀
Please lemme know what you think, this is my first piece of work 😊.
If you have any feedback, feel free to DM me.
Thank you for reading lovelies!!
Stay Coquette-y,
Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀
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fraugwinska · 26 days
Note
Since your requests are open… can I request Alastor taking care of his sick wife? The crew noticed their mia and Alastor slinks away to their hotel room to find them dying (metaphorically) in their nest of blankets?
Thank you ;—; I love your writing sm! ฅ(•ㅅ•)ฅ
Whew - that was a first for me :D Switching it up for a little Alastor POV ;> I hope you like it, lovely Anon! (P.S. - The song mentioned is 'Unforgettable' by Nat King Cole)
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
In Sickness and in Health
Alastor's day couldn't get better – adding another, large territory to his nicely growing collection, visiting his dear friend Rosie along the way, and now returning to his diddy hotel, full of entertainment, and with his lovely wife waiting for his return: He was in a rightfully jolly mood.
He'd left so early in the morning, letting his love sleep in deep, heavy breaths, he was wondering what she had been up to this day? On the way back, he stopped by the florist, careful not to touch the delicate, burgundy blossoms of the chrysanthemums, her favourites.
He entered the hotel to find the residents deeply engaged in another of the princess's silly bonding activities – a game of charades, as it seemed. Alastor watched them with curiosity as Angel Dust gestured wildly, while the others screamed in chaos, throwing guesses his way.
„Fuck, man, come on! I'm making it OBVIOUS here!“, Angel moaned, throwing his hands frustrated into the air.
„The hell you are – you look like you're hurlin' yo' last drink like a garden sprinkler.“, Husk replies dryly, rubbing his temples, while the girls just look confused.
„It's fucking MOTORBOATING, jesus christ on a cracker!“
The group groans, exept for Vaggie, who runs over to him and grabs the card the flamboyant spider waves around.
„It's just 'Motorboat', you idiot.“ „Potayto, Potahto.“
Alastor, having heard enough of that nonsense, closed the entrance noisily. Charlies head whipped around to see him.
„Oh, hey Alastor, you're back early.“, she chirped, ignoring the still arguing group behind her. Alastor walked over and smiled down at her. „Business went better than I expected, dear. And you all are as... aspiring as ever, I see?“ He let his gaze fall back to the group, counting – five heads. Not six. „Would you happen to know where my darling doe is?“
Charlie blinked. „Umm.“, she turned to look at the group, as if she expected her to be there. Alastors eyes narrowed as the princess asked timidly if anyone had seen her.
„Nope, not me.“ „Didn't turn up on the bar, either.“ „She missed breakfast, too“ Alastor huffed, feeling anger bubbling up in his stomach at the blatant negligence of his companions. He left Charlie and the others standing without a word, looking rightfully guilty and shouting apologies at his back. He made a mental note to plan an appropriate response to this mishap, and fastened his steps to his suite.
He knocked on the door, softly. No response. He listened intensely. „My love, are you in there?“ A quiet groan, muffled through thick wood and creaking walls, barely audible.
He opened the door his eyes searching through the dimly lit room - the curtains of the windows were still closed, just like he left them this morning.
„Alastor?“, he heard your voice, weak and tired, from inside the pile of cushions, pillows and blankets piled up on the shared bed.
He quickly set the flowers down on the bureau before he peeled layers of fabric off the built fort to reveal his precious doe – face reddened, hair damp with sweat and deep, panting in straint breaths. Her eyes opened slowly, they were watery and dull.
„Hello...“, she said, a small smile on her dried lips. „Hello, my love.“, he answered, brushing her hair out her face with timid fingers – when they touched her forehead, it was burning hot. Alastor frowned.
„You are sick, my doe....“ She hummed in response. A shiver made her pull the blankets around her closer to her. „I think I'm dying again.“ Alastor chuckled softly, cupping her cheek - heat poured from her scorching skin into his cold palms.
„Always so dramatic. No love, you're certainly not dying. Boiling yourself, maybe. You have a raging fever, sweet thing.“
„Potayto, Potahto...“, she murmured. Alastor scrunched his nose – Angel Dust certainly had a bad influence on his wife.
„Now, now, no reason to call for the mortician, love. Let's get you out of these dampened clothes for a start, shall we?“
She whined from the coldness he exposed her to, grabbing his arms as he pulled her out of the many layers of fabric and peeled the sweat-drenched clothes from her burning body. Her usually smooth and tender skin was colored in angered flushes of read, mimicking the blazing temperature she radiated. While he worked on getting her in fresh, clean pajamas, he murmured soft reassurances and sweet words of comfort to her.
Alastor knew she hated the feeling of helplessness a sickness brought with it. Her demise had been sudden, painful and most importantly lonely, having no one by her side while the disease had eaten her alive.
He placed her back into bed, a snap of his fingers had disassembled the abhorrent nest she had built, linens clean, soft and dry. She whimpered when he opened the windows to let some fresh air into the room, but sighed in sweet relief when the cold cloth he conjured for her cooled her forehead.
“Can you play something for me?”, she whispered after he had convinced her to drink some water, her lids heavy and almost out of consciousness.
Alastor brushed her cheeks tenderly.
“Of course my treasured girl.”
He pulled the chair from his bureau next to the bed, settling down with her hand in his. He chose the song carefully – it was the one she and him first danced to, when he and her were two singulars still, instead of one plural.
The soft tunes of the celeste and piano drove the dreadful, deafening silence out of the room, and when Nat King Coles voice started to serenade, her face relaxed into a serene smile, breaths flattening into calm draws of air.
Alastor watched his wife drift into healing slumber, her skin color already fading into her more normal shade. Relieved, he stroked his thumb delicately over her fingers, still safely wound around his. Yes. Alastor knew she hated the helplessness a sickness brought with it. But at least, this time, he could be there to guide her through it.
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toji-girl · 2 months
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t. fushiguro
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original ask: TOJI X CRYBABY GIRLFRIEND‼️ toji being an asshole to his wimpy gf and regretting it instantly..?
tags; fem reader + angst with happy ending + fighting + pet names + repost from my old blog
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After a long day of physical work, the only thing that was on Toji's mind was coming home and falling into bed but knew he had to take a shower first to wash away the layer of grime off before getting in the bed.
When you heard the door open you smiled and greeted your boyfriend at the door with an array of facial kisses as you all but melted into his arms causing him to grunt, usually, he loves you being all clingy and all about him but right now he was too tired.
"I need a shower," Toji told you pressing a fleeting kiss to your temple before disappearing down the hallway shedding his clothes not caring about the mess he made as you followed after picking it up.
He expected you to follow him and that only tightened his jaw as he pulled back the curtain with a heavy sigh, one that spoke a weight of pure exhaustion. You kept talking about your day asking about his.
Toji stood under the water watching it circle the drain, his thoughts elsewhere not listening to your gabbing. "Are you even listening? I asked you how your day was baby." Your voice was soft as you peeked your head in the shower to look at him looking at him with pure love.
He turned and looked at you, his face screwed up in irritation. "No, I'm not, can you just shut up for a moment and give me peace? All you do is talk and talk, I've had a long day if you haven't noticed so just leave me alone." His voice was hard as he stared at you, your face filled with hurt as tears gathered in your eyes as you shut the curtain and frowned.
"Shit - I'm sorry babe, I didn't -"
You didn't give him more time to say anything else before you were out of the bathroom with tears streaming down your face, and sure he's snapped at you and vice versa but this time felt different.
The pain was a physical ache that manifested in your belly like a heavy rock as you settled into the bed under the covers hearing the door crack open a few seconds later to reveal Toji clad in his boxers.
"I'm an asshole for speaking to you that way, today was long...but that doesn't give me the right to say what I did, I'm sorry. I'll let you slap me?" He suggested trying to ease the tension that cloaked the both of you.
His footsteps were softened by the carpet as he walked further in to settle on the edge of the bed to peel back the covers to look at you.
Toji knew that ever since you could remember you've been a bit more sensitive than others, crying at movies that weren't sad or even sappy, TV commercials, or seeing a family of animals snuggling.
And he also knew he wasn't good with these types of things, words were not his thing but for you, he was changing his ways and now you were being drawn into his arms, his face nuzzled into your neck.
He dried your tears with his thumbs gazing down at you, his eyes were unreadable. "That was a dick move." You muttered looking away letting him stroke your back with rough fingertips.
"I'm a dickhead at times, I know but I am sorry, I never want to hurt my baby girl." He replied in a softer tone, and you knew he changed, the man you met two years ago, the wall around him was strong and stood fierce but you took it down, brick by brick turning him into a softer man.
You gave into the pull and wrapped your arms around his neck squeezing him. "I love you so much I want to hug your neck with my hands sometimes." You told him causing a chuckle to rumble his chest.
"I love you too and I don't think you're the only one, but you get the first privilege." He teased making you laugh, the air now charged with something else as you both gazed at each other tenderly.
His large hand cupped your cheek bringing your face closer to his to close the distance between your lips. "Let me hear about your day then I'll tell you about mine, but first let me grab something."
You watched as he left only to return with your favorite snacks and drinks before settling back into the bed and pulling you onto his lap to talk about your days and make plans for the weekend.
Toji couldn't help but feel a pang in his heart still at the way he spoke to you, and he knew that you changed him because prior to meeting you hurting people didn't matter to him one bit really but now?
He can't stand seeing you sad or heartbroken, you're his crybaby who he loves so much.
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igotanidea · 9 months
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five more minutes: Dick Grayson x fem!reader
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I'm (not) sorry, but that smug face fits right into this fanfiction!!
request/summary: Dick getting clingy when the reader needs to go somewhere
A/N: so, I think I'm back? Two weeks break and I'm getting into the swing of things again, so please go easy on me with this story......
***
When she wakes up in the morning something seems off almost instantly.
It only takes a second to realise that said thing took the form of Dick Grayson, her beloved boyfriend, the man by day and the fearless vigilante by night. The protector of Gotham and its people.
Well, if only the people could see him now.
Sleeping in a weird position with the imprint of the pillow on his cheek, messy hair and some dried saliva in the corner of his mouth.
He so cute and adorable like that. Y/N does the quick scan of his face and body in the search for any injuries he might have obtained during the patrol but her heart rests easy when she noticed him being all in one piece with no blood or stiches. Either it was a quiet and peaceful night or he already took care of himself. Her bets are the latter, but since it’s work day she doesn’t really have any time to wait until he wakes up to blame him for not being careful.
As quiet and swift as she can, Y/N tries to move out of bed, but since Dick’s senses are heightened she doesn’t really get far, when his arms wraps around her, keeping her in place.
“Dick……” she mutters
“Mhmmmm……” he mumbles into the pillow
“Come on, I have get  up!”
“no you don’t.”
“I gotta get to work!”
“I’m the only work you need……” he grins, still half-asleep, but so full of himself and she almost rolls her eyes at the joke
“God, please stop…. I need to earn money you know? Not all of us have a billionaire daddy!”
“You’re dating the billionaire oldest son, isn’t that enough?”
She wonders for a moment. On a second thought maybe it is. Dick seems to use that heartbeat of hesitation, shifting his body weight on her, pinning her to bed, his eyes still closed, but this little shit knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Dick!” she gasps feeling all those muscles crush her “shit!
“I like it when you call my name in such a desperate words. Do it just one more time and the neighbours will hate you forever.” He chuckles and his makes her skin tingle.
You’re heavy…..” she squirms trying to break free, but it’s no use. “You brought it on yourself….” The girl mutters poking on his ribs in the place where he’s extremely sensitive because of an old injury.
“Hey!” he yells, trying to defend himself and letting go off her in the process.
Y/N is quick to jump out of bed and rush towards her wardrobe, grabbing her jeans and t-shirt and struggling to put them on.
“Not so fast!” Dick tears her clothes from her hands and holds them high out of reach.
“Not fair Grayson!”
“You called me fat.”
“I called you heavy!’
“Same thing!”
“It’s not….. You know what, fine. I’ll just wear something else….” She shrugs and runs towards the drawer, but before she could reach it Dick grabs her from behind and holds her tight to him
“Dick…….” She whines stretching out just to grab something to wear. Anything.
“I know. I’m irresistible.”
“A pain in the ass is what you are!”
“I can make you breakfast….” He tempts
“You’re not Jason, Dick. Making me breakfast means putting cereals In the bowl and poring some milk over it in your dictionary. Cold milk. And that is only if I bought both cereals and milk.”
“did you?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Can’t you see how hard I’m trying? Just for you. Come on, you are like an employee  of the month. Or even a year. Stay…..” he kisses her neck playfully “you can call in sick.”
“I used all my sick days because of you.”
“How about casual leave?”
“and what may be the emergency?” she sighs in defeat, her body going limp as she drops the fighting knowing well enough she won’t win it. “Clingy boyfriend?”
“You called me boyfriend!” he grins again and she facepalms herself.
“We’ve been together for a year Dick. Why do you seem surprised?”
“I could never get bored with hearing that word from you. Makes me proud that you’re mine.”
“trying to sweet talk me? Won’t work. By the way, you are soooooo cheesy Grayson.”
“And?” he asks
“ And? What and?”  at this point Y/N is confused, her eyebrows furrowing as she turns to meet his gaze
“And you love me?” he insist, spinning her around in his arms so that he can get easy access to her kissable face.
“Yeah…..” she smiles dreamily “yeah, I do love you, you idiot” she trails with a love sick puppy expression. But it doesn’t mean I’m gonna stay and be you babysi…..ah! Put me down!” she yells suddenly feeling her body lift of the ground without her knowledge or will. “Put me down Grayson! What are you……?! Damn it…!”
Dick does not listen or does not get impressed by her poor attempts to break free. He’s Nightwing. He’s got so many ways to immobilise the opponent. Or, in this case, lover.
“Dick I swear I am going to kick your ass if you don’t….!” the threat dies on her lips as he throws her onto the mattress and kisses her softly shutting her up in the process.
“Stay?” he pouts looking at her with those pretty doe eyes “Pretty please?”
“You act like a five year old!”
“A five year old that wants you. A five year old that misses you…”
“I’ll be back, you know……” she brush the strand of hair from his face. She’s already gone but still tries to keep the appearances.
“Yeah, at 6 p.m. or later. It’s almost the time when I get ready for my night shift…… Please…..”he whines nuzzling his nose over her neck “stay…..”
“please…..” she mimics his whining, caressing his cheek “let me go……”
“But I need you…….” He hide his face in her belly and his hair tickle
“Why do you always need me when I am supposed to go to work?’
“It’s a terrible and uncontrollable disease…..” he laughs
“Is there a cure?” she laughs back
“I can think of something….” He closes the gap between them, nibbling on her bottom lip. “and it may be working…. But I;m not sure. Need some more testing” he repeats his action. “Mhm, yes, it’s definitely working… You don’t want me to be sick, do you?”
“Not really. You are whiny and attention seeker when you are sick.”
“I am not!” he shouts in denial “ok, maybe I am. A little. But come on, you can stay some more time with me……”
“How long, dickie?” she smiles at him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“five more minutes?”
“ok. Five more minutes. She sighs deeply, letting go of any of her objections, letting Dick lay beside her and act like a big spoon, while holding her tight to his chest and caressing her sides and belly.
“You’re not letting me go, are you?” she whispers closing her eyes and getting lost in his touch.
“Never.”
And she’s pretty sure she can live with that.  
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kamiversee · 2 months
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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 21 || The After Hours
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, a tinge of angst, and sexual tension.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.1k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——"I DON'T UNDERSTAND," YOU murmured to the albino man whose arms you're comfortably carried in.
What the hell does he mean by when you call he comes running? You didn't call him... right? Wait, fuck, you don't even remember. Was it really Geto's voice you heard over the phone?
Gojo slowly walks with you in his grasp toward his car, "You called me... Well, I know you probably meant to call Suguru but uh, you called me, sweetheart." He explains.
A pouty expression takes over your features as you grumble out a response to him, "Why didn't you... s-say anything, asshole."
He shrugs, "Cause' Suguru's asleep and I didn't want his half-woken brain to come out here and get you, who's completely wasted. So, it's a good thing you accidentally called me anyway. Plus, I missed-," He stops as he looks at your face.
Your eyes closed and you'd fallen asleep again. Gojo opens his mouth to finish what he is saying but instead sighs and focuses his gaze on where he's walking.
Carefully, the male works his passenger car door open and places you inside. Gojo is overly cautious while he seats you comfortably. Your head had leaned into a visibly unbearable position and he had to be light with his touches to fix you properly.
The pads of his fingers are soft against your face and he's gentle with the way he handles your head. When he's done making sure you don't look uncomfortable and finishes buckling you in, his eyes pause on your pretty resting features.
Even though the beauty Gojo sees in your face, he can't help but notice the dried tear streaks running down your cheeks. He wonders when you cried and why. Was it because of him? Again? The thought alone makes his heart ache.
Gojo shuts his eyes and leans his forehead to yours, resting against you lightly, "I'm sorry..." He whispers to you, despite the fact that you're asleep.
After another second, Gojo removes himself from your space and shuts his car door softly. He then makes it into the driver's seat and he's quick to start his car and drive off.
The ride is slow and Gojo tries to make it as smooth as possible so that he doesn't wake you up. There were a few times when you moved and let out a little groan, each time prompting a concerned gaze from the man in the diver's seat.
Each minute that passes, Gojo spends it thinking about what you told him over the phone. He hates to see you struggling like this, wishing he could go back and maybe do something different but knowing the outcome would've been bad either way.
By the time he gets to your apartment, it's even later into the night and Gojo spends the entire time with you being as careful as possible. He knows you didn't want to see him but he needed to make sure you got home safely.
So, the man carried you all the way to your apartment door and even let himself inside. You found this out a while ago when you went through your messages but apparently, Shoko gave Gojo a spare key to the apartment.
You thought it was weird of your roommate to do so without talking to you about it but she eventually explained to you that she's asked Gojo to go to your apartment more times than she can count and it was frustrating giving him her keys every time.
That, and she secretly felt like him having access to the apartment would help the two of you get together. Of course, Shoko is still ignorant of what's going on between you and Gojo but neither of you has plans on changing that.
After all, her giving him spare keys is beneficial to you in a situation like this.
Gojo moves into your apartment with you in his arms, his footsteps quiet. When he entered, everything was dark and he noticed Shoko's room door was closed. He figured she was asleep since the space beneath her room door showed no signs of lighting and plus, it was pretty late.
You shift around in Gojo's arms while he carries you into your room. The male carefully placed you down on your bed and he wanted to make sure you were comfortable in your sleep but was nervous to do so.
Gojo drags his gaze up and down the obvious discomfort the dress you're wearing brings you and he so desperately wants to change you. With a sigh, he glances around your room, searching for a t-shirt he can toss over you but spotting none.
The man knows you probably won't like it but, he stands up and strips his upper half, removing the white sweater he was wearing and moving to put it onto your body, leaving him in a simple t-shirt he had underneath.
The sweater went over your dress after which, Gojo felt around your back, careful not to touch you directly, and unzipped your dress. He didn't want to lay eyes on your body while you were asleep so, the male worked your dress off you and down your legs with his sweater blocking his eyesight from seeing anything.
On you, his sweater went down to the beginning of your thighs, looking like a dress in itself on your smaller frame. Gojo had long since worked your heels off, having neatly placed them somewhere in your room and now he was trying to tuck you into your bed.
After that, he left your room for only a moment to grab medicine for the painful hangover he knows you're going to have when you wake up. Returning to you swiftly, he puts all the necessary items on your nightstand and sighs.
Soft snores left you, prompting his eyes to fall on your face for the millionth time that night. Gojo tilts his head as he looks at your face, taking in all of your features. He missed having the mere luxury of just looking at you.
You're so beautiful in his eyes that just staring at you makes him loathe himself for the terrible shit he's putting you through.
When the long moment of appreciation comes to an end, Gojo caresses the side of your face with the back of his hand as if to say bye, before leaning up and turning away.
What he doesn't expect is for a delicate set of fingers to wrap around his wrist and stop him from going anywhere. Before he can even turn around to look at you, you whisper out a sleepy and still drunken, "S-Stay."
All it takes is that one word of yours for the male to stop every movement. Hell, he thinks he stops breathing for a second. Turning his face around to look at you, he spots your eyes just barely open and your hand holding him.
Gojo swallows, "Sweets, as much as I want to... you don't really-"
"Satoru," You whisper.
The way you say his name so suddenly after not referring to him as such for what felt like an eternity makes his heart throb violently in his chest. Gojo's whole facial expression weakens, his body and mind completely incapacitated under the sound of your voice and the feeling of your touch.
Your eyes flick up to him and he can tell that you're clearly drunk.
"Y-Yes?" Gojo whispers back.
"Stay." You command.
He feels so utterly helpless under your gaze. What is he supposed to say when you look at him so longingly? Holding onto his wrist in a way that makes him feel like if he leaves, he'll only leave you sadder.
He glances off to the side, "You're just gonna be upset when you sober up. I can't-"
"Toru please." You murmur, suddenly frowning, "I... d-don't wanna be alone."
Gojo's eyes shut and he grits his teeth, "Fucking hell... O-Okay, fuck, fine w-whatever you want." He stammers out, physically unable to deny your requests. "Just... don't curse me out when you're sober, please."
You let his wrist go and smiled cheekily, "No promisessss."
Gojo walks around to the other side of your bed and slowly lays down beside you. Even drunk, you could tell he was nervous doing so-- he already knew what was going to happen when your drunken state faded away. At first, the man lays down as far as possible, making you flip your body around to face him.
He clears his throat, "Is this okay?"
The guy was on the other side of your bed, clearly trying to keep his distance. You giggle, "No, stupid... Come hold me," You whisper.
"H-Hold you?" Gojo chokes out.
You sigh heavily, "At least until-," You yawn, "...I fall back asleep. T-Then you can leave, if you want."
With a slight nod, Gojo just barely slides closer to you. One of his large arms goes over your side and you immediately reciprocate, making his heart skip a beat at the way your small hand is felt on his back. The two of you were basically hugging each other and the state of his heart worsens as you snuggle in closer to him.
"C'mon, this is unfair..." Gojo sighs heavily.
You continue hugging him anyway, comforting your head into his chest. "I know," You whisper in response.
The two of you then get quiet for a while. Your breathing gets softer and softer against his chest and every brush of air against his skin makes it harder for him to calm his rapidly beating heart. It's been so long since you'd been close to him like this that he doesn't know how to handle it.
Gojo feels almost dizzy by your warm body against his. It's not turning him on or anything but his heart feels so odd in his chest.
Suddenly, your head shifts and you look up a him, "Gojo..." You whisper.
And he misses the way you say his first name already, "Hm?"
"You're so cruel to me." You babble out. Not only was your intoxication beginning to take over your mind, but fatigue was weighing in on you as well.
He sighs shakily, "Am I?"
"Very..." You start pouting, "He made me really happy, y'know..."
Gojo blinks in confusion.
"Choso," You clarify. Gloss begins to lay over your eyes and you quickly grow saddened, "...He won't even talk to me now."
"Did you... tell him about the list or something?"
"No, idiot." You fire back. "He wanted to date me but... I o-obviously couldn't say yes because of you."
Guilt thrums throughout Gojo's body, "I'm sorry." He apologizes sincerely.
You sigh heavily, "Y'know... if you were really sorry, you'd delete that video of me and let me go..."
"I can't." Gojo replies, squeezing his eyes shut, "I really can't."
"Why?" You question, scoffing slightly, "After all this time, can you at least tell me why it has to be me?"
He silences himself in thought. There are so many ways he could go about answering such a question but the possibilities of how you may react are endless. Plus, you're drunk and if he's going to admit or explain anything to you, it'll be while you're sober.
"Because..." Gojo's voice gets so quiet that you almost don't catch what he says, "...I don't have any other choice."
What does he mean by that? You have no idea. It's just another one of Gojo's stupid explanations that make no sense whatsoever, leading you to only be annoyed with him for the nth time since you've known him. You're negative emotions for this male run deeper than anything else.
Even so, there's this underlying emotion you feel when he talks to you or looks at you. And you absolutely despise the way it affects you because the man simply plagues your heart, vexing you with his toxic and fucked up realities of how he wants things to go.
You find yourself lulled into it all nonetheless. Whether it be by choice or not, something about Gojo just draws you to him in so many ways.
You hate the way he looks at you as if your very existence is what he still breathes for. The way he talks to you like each second without your presence is steadily crushing his will to live. How he holds you so gently yet firmly as if he dreads the instant he has to let you go.
And more than anything, you hate the combination of all that being tied to his stupidly handsome face that makes you nervous at every second, even though you try to hide it. Then there are the memories of the very few good times you spent with him.
Somewhere deep, deep, deep down inside-- you'd give anything to go back to that morning you woke up in his arms.
Gojo Satoru may be no Kamo Choso but even so, both men hold some deep and special, whether it be good or bad, place in your heart.
You shake your head in disbelief, "...I hate you."
Gojo swallows down your words, "That uh... That makes four."
"What?" You scoff confusedly.
"That's the fourth time you've said those words to me-- the fourth time you've claimed to hate me." Gojo points out, his voice so clearly sorrowful, "I wish you didn't..."
Your brows bush together, "...Wish I didn't say it or...?"
"No, I wish you didn't have to hate me." He says, shutting his eyes again and sucking in a deep breath, "B-But... it's uh, It's okay. I can live with you hating me."
You roll your eyes and open your mouth to say something but he cuts you off unintentionally by continuing.
"It's odd though," Gojo whispers, his fingers toying with the back of the sweater you're wearing. "Why would you want to be in my arms if you hate me so much?"
You groan, "Cause'...." The reasoning takes a second to come out, almost as if you didn't want to admit such a thing out loud, "I don't... I don't wanna be alone." You murmur, your voice wavering a little before your grasp on him grows tighter.
Gojo's heart is pounding so ridiculously hard against his chest when he feels you cling to him so desperately. It took control of every muscle and vein in his body not to squeeze you back just as hard to let you know that he'd never leave unless you told him to.
A soft, heart-wrenching little chuckle leaves his lips, "Me neither, sweetheart."
For a second time, silence wraps around the two of you. The only noise in the air now was the sound of you both breathing faintly. You don't know why but, even though you hate him, you couldn't deny the deep sense of comfort and understanding you felt within his arms.
Your heart was heavy in your chest, feelings for Choso having a dangerous steel grip on you. If you were to complete this list; you needed to put your feelings for that man aside. Only temporarily though. By all means, no matter what it took, you'd be running back to Choso the very second you were freed to do so.
Unconsciousness creeps up on you and unexpectedly wraps your mind up in a warm little blanket, swaying you into relaxation and tugging you into a state of slumber. Meanwhile, Gojo lay awake, unable to fall asleep with the ounces of guilt, regret, and disappointment in himself that cascaded over him.
Though it took a while, he waited until it seemed like you were asleep and then tried to ease his way out. Sadly, through your sleep, you only clung onto his body more-- silently begging him not to go anywhere.
With a sigh, he ends up staying.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
A few hours later, you wake up because of a pounding headache. It was still dark and your eyes just barely opened to gather your surroundings. Finally, you were sober.
Your mind was all groggy and you couldn't remember much after Gojo came and picked you up. It was in fragments and pieces that you recalled talking to him in your sleep and begging him to stay with you.
Yet, when you woke up and opened your eyes, you were met with the dim sight of your bedroom door closed and no feeling of warmth or body heat around you. It annoyed you that Gojo left even though you told him to stay.
Being alone was the one thing you wanted to avoid.
Even hours after your intoxication had worn off, the worst part about it was that as you propped your side up using your elbow and reached for the meds on your nightstand, a wave of arousal abruptly coursed through you. Perhaps it was because of your interactions with Naoya's piss-poor skills at pleasing you-- having left you unsatisfied all this time.
While you swallowed down a pill to kill your headache, you planned on possibly going to lock your door and just rub it out. You hate waking up horny like this and the headache doesn't help either. If only Naoya had known how to use his dick properly, you would've been fine right now.
With a sigh, you move to sit up and suddenly spot a large build lying on the other side of your bed. You almost let out a yelp in surprise until you realized that it was Gojo and that the man never left you.
Your head tips to the side while you eye his resting frame. His back is to you and you figure the male moved away from you so that you wouldn't curse him out first thing in the morning. You groan slightly at the recollection of you telling him to stay.
The sound of your light groan is enough to stir the man awake. He begins to turn around and your heart jumps for some reason when you meet eyes with him.
Gojo rubs his eyelids slightly, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room. "Well... aren't you a sight for sore eyes..." He hums, his deep morning voice only worsening that arousal of yours.
You swallow, "Don't start."
"Mmmmgh.." He hums tiredly, the sound vibrating against his throat and weirdly making your state worse. He then sighs and shuts his eyes, "Don't start what, sweetheart?"
Gojo's voice is way too damn sexy for you to have a proper conversation and, of course, the damn pet name never helps.
You ignore his question, "You need to leave."
"Make me," Gojo says playfully. You frown and his eyes suddenly open, "Come over here 'nd force me out." He murmurs, voice still low but clearly playful.
You roll your eyes at the male, "I'm not joking."
He smirks seductively, the sight unintentionally attractive to you, "Don't roll your eyes at me."
"Why not?" You scoff sassily.
"Haven't done anythin' to make 'em roll, that's why," Gojo replies, the suggestiveness of his words feeding your hormones.
You push the blanket down and away from your legs, revealing your warm skin to the comforting air of your room. "You plan on doing something to make em' roll?" You reply.
Gojo's body stills in reaction to your words. His eyes close again and you watch him bite his bottom lip, "Want me to?"
You shouldn't. At all. You absolutely should not be needy for Gojo of all people.
You decide not to answer him and simply let out a yawn. He chuckles, the sound foolishly sexy. God, everything about this man is turning you on right now and you absolutely hate it.
"I can't stand you," You end up saying.
"Come sit on me then." Gojo fires back.
A throb is felt in between your legs and you grit your teeth. You didn't like the way he challenged you, almost as if you wouldn't really do so. It was one hundred percent because of your hormones that move, shifting to hold yourself up on your knees and shuffling over to the man.
Gojo's eyes shoot open and he chokes as you actually toss one leg over his and straddle him. His hands scramble a bit to lift himself up but you put your palm to his chest and push him right back down aggressively.
"Don't move now, you're the one who told me to come sit on you." You utter in a sultry tone.
He swallows as he stares up at you, never expecting you to be so bold. "Fuuck... it's too early for this y'know... Fuckin' sun isn't even up yet," He groans, his voice deeper than ever.
You lean forward, causing your crotch to rub over his, "Too early for what?"
"For you to be gettin' on top of me like this," Gojo sighs almost panicked, "I know I told you to but-," You wiggle into him a bit to comfort yourself, "F-Fuck, I didn't think you'd actually..."
Your torso tips forward and you press your fingertips into his chest, "Actually get on top of you?" You finish Gojo's statement questionably.
He nods, "Yeah."
The ache in between your legs is slowly becoming unbearable so, you roll your hips forward, your clothed cunt dragging against Gojo's cock and making his brows furrow and his jaw drop slightly.
"H-Hah, woah, w-wait, what're you doing?" Gojo questions. Those large hands of his go to your thighs and he squeezes your skin slightly.
You tilt your head innocently, "Trying to finish what that asshole Naoya left of me last nigh..." Your voice tails a bit as your roll your hips back and feel Gojo gently hump himself up into you, "Hah, n-night..." You manage out breathly.
Gojo smirks but his breathing is now heavy. He remembers you telling him that you had bad sex with Naoya but you never told him what exactly you meant by that. "What he left of-," He swallows hard, "You?"
Your head nods, "Mhm. Fucker didn't even make me cum," You explain, pouting frustratedly as you recall.
The male below you blinks, "What?"
"He didn't make me cum," You repeat while slowly grinding over the steady rise of Gojo's cock. There's almost nothing more stimulating than feeling as a male grows hard beneath you.
It's so warm and hard how his dick springs to life within the confines of his boxers. All because of a little bit of dry humping.
"You want me to make up for him?" Gojo's quick to offer.
You smile lustfully and drag your hips in a slow circle over his erection, "No... I can uh, shit... can get of jus' fine like this..." You tell him.
A wet spot forms on the male's boxers as precum seeps out the tip of his cock at the thought of watching you get yourself off by dry humping.
Gojo slips his hands up and under the sweater you're wearing, his grasp going to your hips and guiding you through your movements. "You sure?" He breathes out, "You and I both know I can satisfy you just fine."
You chuckle and then catch him off guard by grabbing his hands and prying them away from your body. Gojo's eyes widen when you pin his hands up above his head, your gaze meeting his while you continue grinding on him.
"I know you can but..." You tilt your head tauntingly, "You haven't earned that kinda thing back."
"W-What?" He stammers, his face flushing as your fingers squeeze around his wrists.
The way you're looking at him alone is enough to drive him over the edge but he manages to control himself. Your voice lowers, "You haven't earned the right to fuck me Gojo." Your words make him blink in disbelief, "Not after all the shit you put me through."
"But..."
"There is no but." You say, leaning down to him and tipping your head down to his neck. Carefully, you press your lips into him, "Right now, the only thing you've earned is the pleasure of being used by me."
Your words go straight to his cock and Gojo gulps. Is he hearing you correctly right now? Did you just say you were going to use his body for your pleasure? Is he even okay with that?? Of course he is. Gojo physically couldn't say no to such a thing.
Your lips push into the skin right under his jaw and Gojo groans lowly. Your cunt flutters around nothing at the sound and you grin. Lifting yourself, you move to hover your face over his, peering down into his eyes.
"S'that okay?" You whisper, "Can I do that?"
"I-I..." Gojo is at a complete loss for words right now.
You inch closer to him and your lips graze his own, "Can I use you, Gojo?"
He swore he almost came at the imagination of you doing so.
Everything you said was exactly what you wanted too. You really didn't believe that Gojo deserved to have sex with you without some form of punishment due to all the things he's putting you through. Hell, the only reason you're about to do anything with him is because of how horny you woke up.
Or at least, that's what you're going to blame it on anyway.
"Of course you can, sweets." Gojo utters, his eyes low, "I'm all yours, every part of me, it's all yours." He breathes out.
You smile at his words, "Yeah?"
"M-Mhm... You wanna selfishly use me to make yourself feel good," He shrugs, "By all means." Gojo encourages you, "Please do actually. I told you I'd make things up to you right?"
You almost forgot about that but, he's right. He did promise such a thing so, you nod in response.
"Consider this a part of it," The male explains, "I'm nothing more than a tool for you."
You smile at his words, butterflies fluttering through your stomach in reaction. You wondered if he was only speaking like this in terms of sex or if he meant in general but, based on the needy look in his eyes and the redness of his cheeks, he meant it in every aspect.
Slowly, your eyes shut and you press your lips into his for the first time in what feels like forever. The immediate whine that leaves Gojo is so utterly pathetic and desperate, the fact that you're still pinning his hands down acts as torture for the male.
Given that his favorite thing to do is touch you, to be deprived of that during sex is about to be one of the most difficult things he's ever experienced. But, for you; Gojo would do anything to fix everything he's broken between the two of you.
Your lips part over his and he's eager to accept your tongue sliding into his mouth, his hands simply twitching to feel your body as the two of you make out. It's slow and sloppy, wet tongues slipping over one another while soft and quiet moist sounds of your kissing fill the air.
It ends up being you that folds to the urge to touch and feel him, sliding your hands down from his writs, along his muscular arms, to his shoulders, and then to his neck and face-- growing more aggressive with your kissing and feelings his smooth skin beneath your fingers.
Gojo kept his arms up in place as you lifted from his mouth, quickly whispering his desires to you, "Can I touch you?" He hushes out before you kiss him again.
Feeling ignored, Gojo is struggling to control himself. Nothing is stopping him from moving his hands to your waist and flipping the two of you over, quickly grinding into that warm cunt of yours and pleasing you like he knows you deserve. Yet, he remains still anyway.
You tug on his lower lip for a moment before releasing it, "You wanna touch me?"
"Please," He begs, "A-At least while you're kissing me..."
"Alright," You agree, "But when I tell you to take your hands off me, you better."
Gojo nods understandingly and obediently, quickly flying his hands down to your waist and gripping onto you as your lips connect again. The kiss only grows sloppier, your lips sliding over his and his tongue working its way up into your mouth, leading you to hum against him.
Deep down inside, you can't lie... you did miss making out with Gojo. Nobody kisses you like he does. This man kisses you as if it's his dying act.
His hands go down to your hips and he pushes himself up a bit while pulling you down onto his crotch again. Through your messy kissing, Gojo starts moving with you to sit himself up with you in his lap, your lips hardly ever disconnecting from one another.
Now that you're both sat up, it makes kissing each other and dry humping at the same time a whole lot more comfortable and easy.
Through the softness of your lips, Gojo's able to whisper a thing out to you every now and then, "F-Fuck... I missed you s'much..." He mumbles into you.
His arms wrap around your waist while yours go around his neck, both of you hungrily making out with each other.
When you pull away for a second to breathe, you respond. "Did you?" You murmur.
Gojo nods eagerly, "You know I did."
You smile slightly as you kiss him again. Both of you just barely conversate in between pecks, "...Prove it," You utter.
The sound of his lips smacking over yours is heard, "O-Okay... I will, however-, mh... however you want." He speaks between your constant pecks and gentle sucks over his lower lip, "T-Told you... I'm all yours."
You finally pry away from his mouth completely, a string of saliva left between your lips and his. "Alright then... can I..." You bite your lower lip for a moment, trying to debate if you really want to go through with the idea in your head.
Gojo looks absolutely dazed right now from all your kissing-- having almost blown his load in his pants from making out with you. His cheeks are completely red, his lips parted with heavy pants leaving him, and his eyes low as they look at you.
"Yes," Gojo blurts out, "Whatever it is, you can do it to me." He agrees.
The man appears as though he was fucked out and all you've done is swap spit with him.
You stare at him innocently before giving him one last peck and then moving to his ear, "Can I tie you up?"
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ✔︎
TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎
KAMO CHOSO ✔︎
ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎
NANAMI KENTO ☐
??? SUKUNA ☐
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roosterforme · 4 months
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The Younger Kind Part 43 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: While you couldn't stop people from talking about you and Bradley, you could absolutely stand up for yourself and your family. Bradley continued to prove that he was the man of your dreams, and you decided to show him some spur of the moment appreciation. Bradley loves you, and he recognizes that spending time with you and Noah always fills his heart to the brim.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, oral sex, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4400 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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There was no way you were going to tolerate someone talking about you like you were a brainless child who didn't deserve to be with your boyfriend. You hadn't forgotten about those engagement rings you saw on Bradley's phone. You spent half of your time thinking about Noah. Both of them were yours.
As your skirt fabric fell from your hands, you squared your shoulders and unlatched the stall door. Your heart was thudding in your chest, but it was too late now. You were met with startled eyes from the three woman, and you took a second to examine each of them in turn. You saw nothing special. You saw ordinary women who should find something else to do with their time instead of gossiping about you.
You walked right up to the sink, and they scooted out of your way as you washed your hands and dried them with one of the rolled up hand towels. After you dropped it into the discard basket, you carefully examined your still pristine makeup one last time as they stared at you in the mirror. Then you took your dark lipstick out of your pocket, swiped a little more on and pressed your lips together.
"What?" you asked, making eye contact with the redhead as you pocketed it again. "The three of you have nothing to say now?" When you were met with silence you stepped away from the sink and shrugged at the woman with black hair. "I guess I should go get my Daddy to take me home since it's past my curfew." 
You pouted a little bit and rolled your eyes when they still said nothing. But when the one who had been the most verbally aggressive toward Bradley, going so far as to threaten to touch him, opened her mouth to speak, you didn't let her. "By the way, if you want to 'accidentally' bump into my boyfriend, be my guest. There's no way he'd ever touch you otherwise."
She gasped at you as you stepped past her and made your way to the door without rushing. You didn't stick around for a response as your blood pumped hot and hard through your veins. Bradley was the only thing you wanted at the moment, and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning as you thought about him. 
There he was, right where you left him, still talking to Natasha. When you got close enough, you could hear her telling Bradley, "I'm not leading him on, Rooster. He knows what this is. Just because you were looking for your soulmate and actually found her doesn't mean that's everyone's mission."
She smiled at you as you wrapped your arms around Bradley's waist. His forearm settled across your shoulders without hesitation as he said, "I hate that I have to be nice to you since you're the one who put that fucking dating app on my phone to begin with. Now please don't come whining to me when you break Javy's heart."
She poked his hat so it was crooked before walking away, and then you saw the three bitchy women from the restroom, and of course they were looking right at you. When you smiled at them and wiggled your fingers in a little wave as Bradley kissed the top of your head, they all turned away. 
"Hey, Daddy. Who are those women?" you asked, gesturing in their direction. 
He looked at them with a completely blank expression as he said, "The dark haired one on the left is Halo. She's a WSO, but I hardly ever fly with her. The other two work in admin on base. I have no idea what their names are. Why?"
"Just curious," you said, letting your hand slide down his body to the front of his pants. Bradley's eyes lit up and you smiled as he started to blush. "Come with me, Daddy. Let's check out which of the rare flowers are blooming."
--------------------------
"Baby, the rare flower exhibit is closed for the night," Bradley said for the second time as you and he walked deeper into the greenhouse. The pulsing beat of the music faded a bit as you led him past a sign that said EXHIBIT TEMPORARILY CLOSED, PLEASE DO NOT ENTER.
"I don't think anyone will notice if we just explore a little bit on our own," you said softly as you ducked underneath the red velvet rope that was hanging across the doorway. Bradley followed you, stooping low enough to make it underneath, but then he pulled you closer to him. The walkways were wider in here, but the lights were dimmed pretty low, and Bradley didn't want you tripping on the stone floor. 
"What do you want to look at?" he asked, but you didn't seem to be focused on any of the plants at all. You paused next to a small fountain toward the back of the room and glanced around with a smile on your lips. 
"I don't want to look at anything," you whispered, kissing him softly as you draped your arms around his neck. Your wildflower scent was better than anything else the gardens could provide. "I just wanted to show you a little appreciation."
Now he was just confused. "For what?" he asked, letting his hands come to rest on your hips as you licked his mustache. He wondered if you were still tipsy from all the champagne and berries you'd enjoyed. But when you giggled and rubbed yourself against him, he started to get the picture. 
"For being the world's best Daddy. I'm going to get you a new mug for your ridiculous collection. It'll say Noah's Daddy in the streets. Princess's Daddy in the sheets."
Bradley smiled as you laughed. "Baby, I'd use it every day."
"I know you would, because you're the best. And you're mine." Your tongue darted out one more time, swiping along his lips, but when he leaned in to kiss you, he was treated to the sight of you sinking to your knees in front of him. "Mine."
You kissed him through his snug white pants, and Bradley knew in the back of his mind that anyone else could duck under that velvet rope if they really felt like it. Two turns along the stone path, and they would know exactly what was happening here. But when you looked up at him and licked those pretty lips, the only thing he cared about was feeling them wrapped around his cock. 
"Go ahead. Show me some appreciation," he rasped, and you moaned as you tugged down his zipper and undid his button. You nuzzled your nose against his underwear as he widened his stance just a bit. It wasn't long before he was hard and huge and ready for you, and you were treating him like a treat you wanted to savor. "God, you're something else, aren't you?" he mumbled, brushing his fingers along your cheek. "Perfect."
Your eyes were wide and bright as you tugged down all of the white fabric just a few inches, and Bradley's cock sprang free, tapping your lips and leaving a streak of his precum on your cupid's bow. You wrapped one hand gently around his length, and with one swipe of your tongue, Bradley's eyes were already rolling back. 
"Oh, fuck," he grunted, taking a deep breath before he looked at you again. He was throbbing in your hand as you kissed his tip and along his length with a lazy little grin on your lips. You weren't in any sort of hurry as you moved in time with the thumping party music still going strong in the distance. Your tongue swirled along his balls before you took one between your lips and sucked gently. "Princess."
"Hmm," you hummed, looking up at him. Your eyelashes brushed your cheeks every time your eyes drifted slowly closed, but whenever they were open, they were focused on his face. You were his gorgeous Princess, and you were always taking care of him. Your tongue was like velvet as his cock rested on your cheek, throbbing in response to your welcome attention. When you released his balls to lick back along his length to his tip, you sighed. "I love you, Daddy."
You sucked on his head, lips pursed in a pretty pout, and when you finally took more of his cock between your lips, Bradley readjusted his stance and placed one big palm at the back of your head. "Nice and slow. Yeah. Just like that." It was heavenly the way you took him deep until you gagged before bobbing on his length. Then you did it again, eyes watering as you made that pretty sound at the back of your throat. "You're so fucking good at this."
You moaned and whined louder, and Bradley looked around to be sure the two of you were still alone as you gagged all over his cock. He tried to guide you slower, but you popped him free and grinned up at him as you pumped your fist along his length. "Do you like this? In the greenhouse?" you asked, gingerly kissing his tip again. 
He growled and pushed your head as you squealed with delight until he was tapping the back of your throat again. He could only grunt. "Yeah. I like this. You spoil me." 
Now your fingers were rubbing and teasing his balls, and Bradley was trying to be gentle with his palm at the back of your head, but you had him close to the edge. He groaned your name, stroking his thumb along the shell of your ear and down to your jaw as you worked him into a babbling mess. You kept your eyes fixed on his as he fucked your face while you bobbed and sucked. The wet sounds and soft moans were obscene, and so were Bradley's words.
"God, Baby. You're a fucking dream. You let me cum everywhere, in every hole. You gonna swallow me down?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed, somehow never releasing the perfect suction you had around him. Your saliva was dripping onto your chest and down to your beaded top, coating your cleavage. Your brow was pinched. Your hands were tight around the base of his cock and his hip. You were ready for him. 
"Good girl," he praised as he came with his cock at the back of your throat. You sputtered and gagged, but you swallowed him down. Your lips parted with him resting on your tongue, and he watched you swallow with little gulps as you tried to catch your breath. 
Your eyes were watery as you licked his tip clean, never pulling him away from your mouth. Each soft swipe of your tongue was accompanied by a quiet whimper of your pleasure, and finally Bradley had to pull away before he got hard again. You kissed along the front of his pants again and let your cheek rest high on his thigh as he tucked his cock back inside his pants. What a sight you were, on the stone floor in front of him, snuggled against his uniform pants. He coaxed your chin up with his fingers so you were looking at him again, and he committed the sight to memory. 
"I love you, Princess."
Your smile made him soft inside, and when he reached for your hand and pulled you to your feet, you came willingly to his arms. He tasted himself on your lips when you kissed him and straightened out his hat. Your fingernails were raking along the stubble that was starting to grow in along his jaw as you whispered, "I got a little lipstick on your pants."
"Good," he said with a smirk. He literally didn't give a shit if everyone knew you gave him head during the retirement party. "You want to grab one more glass of champagne and start saying goodbye to everyone? It's pretty late, and I want to get back to relieve Amelia."
You nodded and let Bradley lead you slowly along the stone path back toward the main part of the greenhouse. 
---------------------------
It was almost midnight when you chewed on one last raspberry while Natasha eyed the front of Bradley's pants and then your lips. "You know, I do think it's amusing the way you get on me about my questionable decisions," she told him with a bland look. "But it's nice to see that mom and dad had a fun night out."
Bradley chuckled as he leaned against the bar sipping a glass of water. He had absolutely no shame right now, and it was making you a little flustered. Sure, you'd been the one to boldly instigate the activity that took place in the rare plants room, but now you were feeling a little more bashful about it as he stood there with his dress whites a bit marked up and his arm around your waist. 
You bit your lip as you looked up at him, and he kissed the tip of your nose. "Don't go and get shy on me now," he whispered, and then you saw the three women from the ladies' room walk past. They were all looking at him, but he didn't spare a glance in their direction as he said, "Ready to go home to Noah and Skittles?"
"Yes," you replied softly, and he finished the rest of his water in two gulps. 
"Let's go."
"Wait," you said as he started to head toward Admiral Bates. "We're not dropping Natasha off?"
He shook his head and said, "Nope. She's going with Javy. Gonna break his heart."
Sure enough, the two of them were sneaking off together as you said goodbye to Admiral Bates and his wife. You watched Bradley stand at attention and salute his commanding officers, and a little flicker of lust rippled through your body. Nobody said anything about his pants, but he was kind of just flaunting it now as you tried to get him outside. 
"Shameless," you murmured once you were out in the cool night air, the salty smell of the ocean all around you.
"I'm with you, and I don't give a fuck who knows about it, Princess. Now let's get home where I can show you a little appreciation."
The drive was quick and quiet as Bradley sang to you. When his favorite song popped up on his playlist, you turned the volume down a little bit so you could hear his steady voice louder over the music, and it gave you goosebumps. He'd sung it for you countless times and always told you it reminded him of you, and tonight was no exception. 
"I always think of you now. All the time."
You ended up on his lap once he parked in the driveway, knocking his hat off so you could run your fingers through his hair as you whispered, "I love you." He carried you carefully up to the porch, your poofy skirt becoming a bit of a tripping hazard that made both of you laugh. And you were still in his arms when he tried the doorknob to find it was locked.
"Okay," he told you with a pleased nod. "She's got the house sealed up just like you always did. I like that."
"So Amelia Benjamin is for sure our new permanent babysitter?"
Bradley slid his key into the lock and said, "As long as Noah had fun, I think so." He turned the knob and opened the door as he called out, "It's just us!" 
Amelia was rolling the ball across the floor for Skittles while she read a book, and she looked up and asked, "Did you have fun?" 
You quickly stepped in front of Bradley, hiding his pants from view as you said, "So much fun."
"Yeah, it was pretty good," Bradley added as he patted your butt and turned to head for the stash of cash behind the TV so he could pay her. "How was Noah?"
"Great! We had fun with the puppy, and he went right to bed."
"Perfect," Bradley said as he counted out some bills, and now you had to play hide the pants as Bradley casually handed her payment to her. 
"Thanks. Are my mom and Mav still there, or did they head back already?" she asked.
You were holding some of the layers of your skirt out to the side in front of your boyfriend like a weirdo as you answered her. "They must have left, because we didn't see them when we were heading out."
Amelia knelt down to pat Skittles on the head before the dog carried her ball over to Bradley's feet with a little limp in her step. "Sounds good. Call me if you need me to watch Noah again," she said, waving as she headed out. "Goodnight." 
"Thank you," Bradley called after her as he picked Skittles up and let her lick his face.
"You need to go take your pants off. I'm dropping them at the dry cleaner first thing on Monday."
Bradley laughed as he said, "I thought you were very proud of yourself."
"I was... until a literal teenager was about to see it!" you told him as you unbuttoned and unzipped his pants before glaring up at him. "Just take them off while I check on Noah."
You walked away with your skirt billowing behind you, and you quietly slipped into his bedroom. He was sound asleep, his breathing soft and even as you let your hand rest on his shoulder. "Hi, sweet Noah," you whispered. You felt like you'd barely seen him all day with the amount of time you'd been out and the hours you had taken to get ready with Natasha. Your fingers grazed his warm cheek before you pushed his hair back from his forehead and gave him a kiss. "I love you." 
When you turned toward the door, Bradley was standing there with his pants unzipped and Skittles in one big hand. "It's time for me to show you a little oral appreciation, Baby," he whispered as he took your hand. 
As soon as he had you on your back in the middle of your bed with your skirt pushed way up, he found out you weren't wearing any underwear. Your pussy was wet, and you were ready for him, but when he nipped your lips as he teased you with his fingers, you broke the kiss. "Can we have a fun family day tomorrow? Us and Noah?" you gasped, your fingers clutching at the insignia pins on his jacket.
Bradley's smirk turned into a smile before he kissed you so gently, you whimpered. He kissed back to your ear as he slid one long finger into your pussy and circled your clit with his thumb. "Absolutely. I love you. Oh, I fucking adore you, Princess."
He worked you over good after that. Your fingers were in your own mouth as Bradley propped you up with his hand for better access. He was making you get a little too loud as his soft tongue and bristly mustache met your clit while he finger fucked you. And then the broad stripes of his tongue that ended in little swirls around your clit let you know exactly what he was planning to do.
"Daddy!" you gasped, hips jerking as you clenched around his thick fingers. He knew he had you. He knew just the right amount of pressure to apply. You squirted for him. You were wet everywhere; it felt like you were laying in a little puddle. 
"Oh, fuck me," he moaned, and then he was on top of you, shoving his cock inside your dripping pussy and making your back arch off the bed. His face was wet with you as he kissed you and let you lick his mouth clean. You felt good if not overstimulated and a little boneless, but with just a few deep thrusts, he came inside you.
His body weight was heavy but soothing as he eased himself down on top of you. "Well," he whispered, "looks like you'll need to take your dress to the dry cleaner along with my uniform." 
You smirked. "I'll put it on my Princess credit card."
"You're damn right."
------------------------
If Saturday night at the retirement party was fun, then the impromptu family day on Sunday was spectacular. Bradley hadn't done anything quite like this, well... ever.
"Mommy!" Noah called out, handing you a purple golf ball at the little putt putt course next to the beach. Then Noah selected a yellow ball for himself and handed Bradley bright green.
"Perfect, Bub," he said, kissing his son while you took him by the hand. Bradley's attention just fluctuated between how pretty you were in your little sundress and how happy Noah looked. He was so preoccupied, you had to keep reminding him it was his turn.
"You're up, Daddy," you said, nudging his foot with your putter. "Why are you so distracted?"
He shook his head and nudged your putter right back before he kissed your cheek. "Just having a good day," he replied. "Thinking about how nice this is."
"We can have family Sundays whenever we're not too busy. Oh, and there's a dog friendly beach trail, so next time we can bring Skittles."
"She's getting her cast off soon," Bradley reminded you.
"Then she can sleep in my bed!" Noah said, hitting his yellow ball very badly. "You promised!"
"Yeah. You promised," you echoed. Bradley was met with Noah's look of excitement and your smug smile. Then you added, "You're just the best, Daddy."
He groaned and bent to scoop Noah up as he giggled uncontrollably. "Let's tickle Mommy," Bradley whispered loudly. He chased you around while Noah stretched his arms out and wiggled his fingers at you. When you pretended to get caught, you smothered first Noah and then Bradley in kisses. Then the three of you eventually returned to the golf game, and Bradley silently congratulated himself for successfully distracting the two of you. 
Because honestly, he was already kind of attached to having Skittles sleep in her little bed in the room with you and him. He didn't want to say it out loud though, especially since he was the one who didn't want a dog in the first place. But he liked having her trot over to him when he got out of bed in the morning, and he liked settling her into her spot at night. And he knew Skittles preferred to be taken outside by him.
"I can't believe I have an eight pound dog named Skittles," he murmured. "How is this my life now?"
Not that he was complaining. He looked at you helping Noah line up his shot at the last hole, and then you and he managed to get a hole in one together before both turning to look at him in surprise. "Did you see that?" you asked.
"Yeah, I saw it," he replied with a smile. "It was incredible. Now let's go celebrate by not asking you to cook tonight."
Dinner consisted of nothing but takeout sandwiches and a picnic table, but it was the perfect end to the day. Bradley was just mesmerized by you as you cleaned Noah's hands with a wet wipe and then cut his sandwich up into little bite sized pieces for him. Then you kissed him on the temple and asked if he would like to have Amelia come babysit him again.
"Remember when you were my babysitter?" he asked you, his eyes wide as you smiled down at him.
"Yeah. I remember, sweet Noah."
He bit into a piece of his sandwich before he said, "I liked that a whole lot, but I like it better now that you're my mommy instead."
"I like it better now, too," Bradley added, and he watched your smile grow.
"Yeah," Noah said, "because you're always at our house now, and you never have to leave."
"That's right. You belong with us, Princess." Bradley thought maybe you always had, and he and Noah were just waiting for it all to fall into place.
You looked pleased as you told them, "I'm not going anywhere."
When Bradley finally pulled the Bronco in the driveway, it was dark out, and both you and Noah were yawning nonstop. "Do I need to carry both of you inside?" he asked.
"Yes," you and Noah answered in unison. 
He picked you up for a piggy back ride before getting Noah out of the backseat, and then he carried both of you up to the porch and unlocked the door. You took Noah with you to get him ready for bed while Bradley led Skittles out the back door. 
"Yeah, I know I'm your favorite," he whispered as Skittles licked his hand before hobbling out to the grass. He'd follow up with the shelter about having her cast removed, and he get her some special treats for a reward as she built her strength up again. 
A few minutes later, he carried the pup down the hallway past Noah's room where his son was already sound asleep. When he walked into his own bedroom, you were already snuggled up in bed with the covers pulled up to your chin. "You sleepy, Baby?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed before yawning again. "All the champagne and mini golfing caught up with me, I guess. Not to mention the blowjobs."
Bradley chuckled as he set Skittles down in her bed with a little pat on her purple bow. Then he joined you after kicking his shoes off. He snuggled up next to you on top of the blankets, still needing to get ready for bed. But he kissed you and watched as your eyelids grew heavier. "Can't forget about the blowjobs," he whispered, and you smiled. "I love you, Princess."
"Love you." Then you were asleep. 
When he got to work tomorrow morning, Bradley would talk to Admiral Simpson about flying in the air show even though he really didn't want to have to chat with him about anything. Not after Cyclone's continual desire to flirt with the one woman who was Bradley's. But he'd do it anyway, because he wanted to make you happy. Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket, and after he verified you were really asleep, he opened his internet browser to check those tabs again.
--------------------------
Silence, peasants....she is a Princess. Can't wait for Bradley's conversation with Cyclone at work. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 44
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bigwishes · 9 months
Text
Tummy Trouble
Connor flexed at himself in the mirror, he'd been lifting for years but still was no where near as big as he dreamed to be. He looked at some of his buddies in the gym that had gotten bigger than him taking roids but Connor didn't want any of that crap, he wanted to get as big as he could naturally, without risking his health.
Still he couldn't help but wish he was so much bigger.
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Connor was on his way out of the gym when someone stopped him.
"Hey bro," the man grabbed Connor by the arm
Connor turned to see a unbelievable tall man who was insanely muscular. The straps to his tank top where barely visable between his shoulders and traps, the length of his tank top wasn't quite long enough to cover up his entire torso and his gym shorts looked more like spandex underwear. Connor was both turned on by the sheer size of the guy and turned off, he was clearly a roid head.
"eer, hey man"
"hey bro you look real fit, are you training to get bigger?"
"yeah man, as big as I NATURALLY can" Connor made sure to pretty much shout naturally at the guy, he'd had too many roid heads try and sell him gear in the locker room before but never had one brave enough to try it out the front of the gym
"aw yeah man, nice nice, look I got a sample for you"
"sorry man, Im not into enhancements or roids or whatever"
"you got me all wrong bro, no roids, its free gym gear we are giving out some clothing samples and asking for feedback for payment"
Connor's face turned bright red with embarrassment, now he seemed like some entitled asshole who thought he was too good to even talk to anyone not natural.
"bro I'm so sorry, I just, normally when a guy like you asks me if I want a sample in the gym" Connor began to stumble over his words trying to back peddle realising he basically just called this guy a roidhead without proof
"a guy like me?"
"yeah, eerrrrr, ya know big and..."
The giant man began to laugh and slapped Connor on the back "I'm just fucking with you mate"
Connor let out a sigh of relief
"but hey mate, so you're all about the natural look yeah? but you also wanna be a massive tank?"
"yeah man, look I know I might be dreaming but I wanna be fucking huge, like you, I just don't wanna take any enhancements"
"I think I got something for you mate, here"
The giant handed Connor a small carboard box with the words "Big and Bulky" written in bold black letters and a gift card for $100 Food delivery service stapled to the top.
"Free of charge mate, put em on when you get home and I'm sure you'll be feelin like a freak in no time" The giant man winked.
Connor took the gift and continued to thank him multiple times trying to make up for the fool he'd made of himself just moments before. He got in his car and sank in his chair. He opened the box seeing a pair of briefs, he couldn't exactly try them on in his car, he thought it'd be better to just come back with some feedback tomorrow.
----------------
Connor stepped out of the shower and dried himself off, he began his normal flexing routine in his mirror but thoughts about being staying lean and small invaded his mind fairly quickly. He contemplated if staying natural was worth it if it meant he'll never get his dream body. Pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind Connor slipped on the briefs he was gifted earlier and......they felt like normal briefs. He couldn't work out how these were made special for athletes but at least he got a food gift card out of it.
Connor picked up his phone going to take a photo whilst he looked good in the light when suddenly a golden light began to shine off the waist band of the briefs. It was like sunlight was coming out of the fabric itself. He saw the letters B....I.....G slowly appear and he watched in the mirror as his body began to swell. His shoulders broadened, chest expanded with every breath, his arms began to swell up and soon his pecs and arms were competing for space. His thighs became tree trunks and he had to readjust his package so it didn't get crushed between them, even his feet began to grow outwards. Soon it all slowed down and all Connor could do was stare at himself in amazement.
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Somehow, by literally magic he had swollen up into the size of his dreams. he couldn't help but start flexing and even licking his own bicep. A small noise, like a shop bell interrupted his self worship as a tiny slip of paper was ejected from the top of the box. Connor picked it up...
"Thank you for choosing Djinn.co transformative clothing, the transformative clothes you have chosen will permanently change your body, no need to workout to stay in shape never loose muscle keep the body of your dreams... NOTE: Your attendant for the day was Big Guy Bob he has added extra command words to your transformative clothing, we here at Djinn.co only print two command words on our clothing however your interaction with Bob had him convinced you deserved more"
Connor was amazed, surely this was a dream, there was no way he had stumbled into a pair of magic transforming clothes. As Connor was caught up in this thoughts light began to shine out of the other side of the waist band, the Connor felt his body start to get bigger. A part of him thought he should take the underwear off but he wanted to get bigger, he wanted to be a giant like the guy he met today. Another light began to shine from begin but Connor couldn't see. He flexxed in the mirror looking at the letters B...U....L....K....Y appear on the waist band. He flexed as hard as he could expecting to see his muscles to double in size again.
Connor's muscles became slightly large but nothing really changed. He dropped his arms to his side hearing his stomach make a slight gargling noise.
"awww, is that it, nothing even hap-"
*FWOOOMP
Connor almost fell forward as suddenly his six pack expanded into a loose gut. Hair quickly coated his entire body and he started sweating worse than he normally would at the gym.
"WHA...M...MY ABS...MY SIX PACK WHAT THE FUCK"
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Connor rubbed his new tummy on the verge of tears.
"oh god...what the fuck do I do with this thing"
His stomach let out a loud hungry growl as if almost to respond to him.
He picked up his phone and used the gift card to order some food, as if on auto pilot he spent the entire $100 instantly and even dropped another $100 from his own bank account on food.
Connor just stood in the mirror staring at his new belly disgusted. He had all the muscle he had dreamed of but felt his gut, pecs and ass wobble as he flexed. Soon the doorbell rang and Connor went to go grab his bags of food.
Bringing the bags in from inside and placing them on his kitchen bench his hands instantly dove in grabbed a handful of fries out the box without even taking the box from the bag, without realising he had stuff half the box of fries in his mouth, salt fell from his lips into his new forest of chest hair and he simply wiped his salt covered hand on his brief whilst opening a bottle of off the shelf protein shake. He began chugging it down and could feel little bits slips from his lips and into his new beard. Connor picked up all the bags and moved to his couch.
Connor blinked awake as if from a trance, all around him were empty plasic bottles from protein shakes and soft drinks, multiple empty fry boxes littered the look around him and he noticed his chest hair was tangled with salt, some burger lettuce and dried protein shake, his briefs were also covered in stain from where he had wiped his hands. He slid his briefs off noticing 3 words painted on the ass he didn't notice appear. "SWEATY, HAIRY, SLOB". Connor rubbed his new gut and tossed the briefs to the side.
His stomach began to gurgle and it sounded like a water cooler. He watched as his loose gut started to become firm.
"oh...god...whats happeneing now"
each time Connor inhaled his stomach felt worse
"I....god what the fuck"
A small ding noise interrupted Conners panting and panicing as another small slip of paper magically was printed out of the top of a closed chip box. Conner leant forward and read it.
"Hey man, Big Guy Bob here, today you expressed wanting to become a natural tank, so I made sure you got a pair to turn you into an absolute unit but I know you were worried about people thinking you might be on roids, just look at today you were so quick to think I was on them, so I added some key words to not only turn you into a huge tank but to turn you into a huge slob, enjoy the size bro"
Connor groaned as he tossed the note to the ground.
"FUUUUUUUCKKK IM SO.......BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP"
the pain subsided and his stomach went soft again. Connor stared at his enormous body in the reflection of the black glass of his TV.
"mm...mmaybe i can cut?" Conner said aloud, completely unaware of the cupcake he was stuffing into his mouth as he spoke...
-----------------------------------
I hope everyone who wanted me to write a weight gain story is happy with this one, this is probably as far as Ill every go with this kinda stuff but yall voted on it and I was happy to write it.
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swxxtsxcchxrine · 11 months
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I feel like i need more emphasis on Miguel's level of nasty because he is just messy. point blank period. imagine he's got you on all fours, your face is stuffed into the sheets of your shared bed, he has your arse in the air all the while his face is stuffed right in your pussy. he's sucking and slurping on your cunt from the back because he knows you like it. maybe too much. one hand is laying comfortably on your bum cheek while the other holds your hands in place on the small of your back to diminish any attempts you have to run away. not that you would anyways. his face moves up and down your slick slit, his tongue prodding at your tight hole. he groans in satisfaction as you push your hips into his face and cry out a silly version of his name. his hand squeezes your cheek in affirmation "that's it, bonita," he praises. his words go straight to your sticky cunny as he slurps loud enough for the neighbours and their mothers to hear. he lifted his head momentarily just to spit on your puckered hole: watching as the fat glob slides down the globe of your arse, not before catching it with a finger and sliding it in. he feels you tight hole squeeze as he stares in awe. he lowers his head back onto your throbbing clit and starts suckling on it, drinking up your sweet juices in tandem. he shakes his head from side to side receiving a high pitched sob from you in return. he brings down his heavy hand to slap your soft bum, hard. he rubs the sore spot as his finger continues to work on your ass. he's moaning and groaning, whining and whimpering into your cunt that he loves too much. "Miguel...you have to stop, i need a break PLEASE!" you plead no avail. infact, he pushes another finger into your tight hole. you silently plead he's not hoping to stuff his hefty cock into your puckered hole. it's already too overwhelming for you. he's still playing with your hot pussy while still at it with your rim. he removes his fingers from your asshole and watches it clench and unclench uncontrollably as your orgasm hits like a truck. he lewdly spreads your cheeks apart, mouth agape, watching your tight holes squeeze around empty air, waiting so patiently to be filled by his pretty, long, thick, heavy, pleasurable, delicious, tasty, mouth watering, eye rolling, name yelling, soul snatching, creaming and screaming, sobbing and rolling around the floor, toe curling, earth shattering, squirting fountains, mood lifting, dopamine giving, life changing, powerful thrust, pretty, dark brown tipped - remember nips match tips - veiny all over, a proper 8-9 inches, he's definitely a grower, he grows while he's inside of you so its the most delicious stretch everr, undeniably good, leg shaking, heart wrenching, name forgetting, drooling, mind dumbing, mind breaking, back arching COCK.
i'll glad be on my knees for THIS man. 🥴like im not even joking brooo ill do jumping jacks on the d just for him he can dump ALL the cum he wants in ME, i'll gladly be the mother of his children. i swear, ill be the perfect little wife for him. he wakes up in the morning to freshly made breakfast and coffee. his clothes are washed, dried and ironed to perfection. his shoes are clean and polished, his shower is already running at the perfect temp. he comes home from work? i'll great him with a fat kiss and a home cooked meal. the recliner is out the tv is on his favourite show, when he's getting ready for bed, its ready made, his clothes for tommorrow are out and im waiting for him in bed. i need him so bad he doesn't understand i'm so upset why isn't he real. like...who am i ever going to find thats gonna compare? will i ever find someone that compares, omg imagine if i don't...☠️☠️☠️☠️ see lemme not God forbid🙏🏾
🫨 (ignore that i just wanted to use the emoji ibr)
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kadwrites · 10 months
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a man with a reputation | T.S
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read the next part
or check out the series masterlist
summary ; you cannot talk your way out of this , for the first time in your life, you're given no choice.
warnings ; angst, cursing, mild violence i guess??? , arranged marriage trope.
a/n ; maybe i'll turn this into a series? who knows, let me know what you think <3. also the accent is a mess, but im trying.
_
"no!" your eyes are wide , glassy with anger filled tears "i will not be treated like some piece of land."
"would you listen? your father and i are thinking of your future." you mother is looking at you with a stern face, sitting beside your father as you stand in front of them
"what future do you think i'll 'ave with thomas fucking shelby?" you raise your voice
"do not speak to me like that , i am your mother."
"we're old, i'm sick with god knows how many illnesses." your father speaks, his cane in his hand as he leans against it, still on the sofa
"don't start with that talk" you shake your head with a chuckle, you sniffle and turn your head away
"i don't know if i'll live another day , i am too sick to work, too sick to care for the farm, there is nothing left for me to give you" he speaks slowly with a serious voice, and it makes your heart sink "this isn't a joke or some game, i've survived the war and lived long enough to see all of you grow , but i know that my time is near, i cannot risk dying and leaving you with nothing"
your father never spoke to you like that, he was always jovial , happy.
it seems like it hits you for the first time, how much your parents have aged, how much the illness took from your father, how his sicknesses have changed him.
"celest got to marry who she chose and so did oliver and so did abraham, but i don't get to do that? i dont get to choose my own husband?" your tears start falling, your voice cracks
"i need to know you'll be taken care of , that you'll be in good hands when im dead and gone."
"and you think his hands are the good hands you speak of?" you cant help the humorless smile that graces your face, hot tears stain your cheek "you can't be serious"
"he is the most feared man in birmingham," your mother chimes in
"you are willing to sell your daughter! to some gangster!" you raise your voice again
your mother stands and faces you
"i am not selling you off, i am securing you a future, with a wealthy man, who can give you everything you can possibly want. you'll live like royalty" her words come through gritted teeth "i am not giving you away to some old pig, you're marrying a respectable man, a man with a reputation."
"a reputation? don't you know what 'appened to his first wife ? you are securing me a grave" you come nose to nose with your mother, both of you almost vibrating in anger "you are killing me is what you're doing, you're selling me off to the highest bidder"
the next thing you hear is the sound of your mother's palm against your cheek, the sound of the slap echos throughout the empty house, your head is turned, your cheek stings
your parents never laid a hand on you, even as a rebellious teenager when they caught you sneaking out the window or smoking on the roof.
your head turns slowly, eyes wide as you look at your mother, she looks mortified at her own actions,
you turn and run off and up the stairs to your room, hearing your father yell at your mother for what shes done.
at some point during the night, you had fallen asleep, but not for long. you were awake when the sun rose, your back pressed against your bed frame, looking ahead at the painting on the wall, it was a family portrait, and you were sitting on your father's lap.
you knew your sister was here when you heard the sounds of her five children, running around the house.
she knocks softly but doesn't bother to wait for an answer when she opens the door after a few seconds, she walks slowly, and sees you on the bed.
your eyes stuck on the portrait , your face almost emotionless, your tears have dried and stained your cheeks, she wonders for how long you cried, your back against the wood of the bed frame, no pillow thrown in her direction for waking you up, no annoyed words saying "you couldn't fucking come in the afternoon?" . the curtains are parted, letting the light in, which is very unusual for you.
you hear the bed creek under her weight when she gets on it, laying next to you
"i heard about yesterday" she says softly, her head turned to look at you
you only glance at her , but your head doesn't turn, then you look back at the portrait
"they're doing this for you, they want whats best for you." she's not sure if it is you she's trying to reassure you or herself , this wasn't ever supposed to happen.
her little sister was supposed to marry a man she wanted, a simple man, a man capable of love
you hum, or you make a sound at least , acknowledging her.
"he isn't all that bad, you know."
a weak chuckle escapes you at her words "in what world is thomas shelby not a bad person?" your voice is hoarse , from screaming and crying all night long no doubt.
"he can give you a good life."
"ya 'ave a good life don't you? with the man you chose, the man you love." your gaze doesn't move, still staring at the painting "its not fair, you lot got to be happy, and i don't."
"ya don't know that." her voice is full of sympathy or maybe pity, you didn't want to know.
you finally turn to your sister, "do you honestly think that i can be happy with 'im ?"
your sister hesitates , she licks her lips "he's a powerful man."
you chuckle at that too "that tends to 'appen when you're a gangster."
"i tried with them, i really did." her voice is weak too, it cracks.
your eyes well with tears again, you didn't know you could even cry anymore "i know..." your voice is a whisper
you knew she'd be against it, she wouldn't agree, maybe oliver would tell you to consider it, abraham would too, just to please your father.
but celest wouldn't
"what are ya goin' to do?" she whispers back, her tears start rolling too
"what can i do?" you ask "i dont 'ave any other choice"
she looks at you as if she didn't expect that. you were always stubborn, always talking your way out of anything you didn't want, you always got your way with your parents, thats what she taught you.
but this time, you don't want to fight back.
"you're goin' through with it?"
"i cant live knowing i disobeyed my father's dying wish."
your father was sick, and getting worse everyday. you were a stubborn woman, but the little girl inside of you couldn't bear to disobey her father.
celest wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you to her chest, her hands runs up and down your arm , like she did when abraham would bother you to tears, or when oliver wouldn't let you play with him.
"at least he's easy on the eyes, eh?" she tries desperately to lighten the mood, her lips pressed to your forehead
" hes old." you say with a weak laugh
"hes older, not old." she corrects, with a laugh too.
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reiderwriter · 2 months
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Okay so I have a small req (Honestly this is more of an hc than anything-but I need to share cuz vshvskhbjks) I feel like Spencer is genuinely so perverted when it comes to his girlfriend??? like if you leave your panties lying around he IS swiping them and he is not ashamed like...he may not do much in public but in private he will grab a handful of your ass or tits when he can like.....In the early seasons, I feel like he'd be a little ashamed but s13+? hell no, especially when it comes to him getting caught being a lil perv gfkjk (FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS IF IT ISN'T YOUR CUP OF TEA!!!!)
A/N; Gave this one some ✨️angst✨️ just because I could, but YES TO PERVERTED SPENCER!! YES INDEED!!
Summary; You get to know your coworker well after a decade on the job. You get to know just how much he loves to touch you and just how much you enjoy his hands on you as well. But after prison, something is changed in Spencer Reid.
Warnings: SMUT, 18+ Minors DNI. Masturbation (M, F), oral sex (F), hand job, mentions of somewhat public indecency, groping, grinding, etc, unprotected sex, PinV, creampie, dirty talk.
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Spencer Reid had always been a pervert, and it took you six long, quiet months to figure that out. 
When you'd joined the BAU after years of begging for a chance, you were a team expecting field-hardened agents, and for the most part, that's what you'd got. Hotchner was as bureaucratic as they came, Rossi had been at the institution as long as the concept of the BAU had, and the others had some serious qualifications to their names. 
But Spencer Reid was the outlier. He was a bit timid in front of the others, always seemed to put his foot in his mouth when it mattered most and seemed to be patronized around the office a bit until it came to his intellect. 
And you didn't quite know how to act around him until you got to know him very, very well. 
A case in some state or the other had called for emergency motel rooms, unfortunate as some Nascar show or the other was rapidly filling up hotel room spaces everywhere. So, as the two youngest members of the team (and by far the most eager to please), you'd ended up rooming together in a double twin room. 
“So, Spencer, what do you do at night to wind down? Relax after a case?” The motel door had swung shut loudly behind you an awkward three minutes before you started the conversation, and you needed something to break the awkward tension in the room. 
“I… read, I guess?” 
“You're always reading. What book is it today? Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy? Maybe Dickens?” 
In response, he'd just awkwardly held up the book cover for a minute, leaving you to nod and let the conversation peter out. It wasn't the first time one of your conversations with him died out due to a mutual lack of skill, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. 
Giving in, you grabbed your bag and headed for the small bathroom, a strategic retreat to pass the time without having to acknowledge that the teams resident genius was ignoring you. 
Because he definitely was. 
You'd been on the team for six months, and you couldn't quite figure out why he'd never so much as asked you how your day was. He'd be jovially talking with one agent or the other and would clam up as soon as you joined into the fray. 
Spencer Reid was stuck in his shell, you'd been told. He was someone who didn't open up very easily, especially after his first few, very rough years in the BAU. 
You let each concern roll off your back as you showered and cleaned yourself up after a day of dumpster diving for clues. Your next aim was getting out of the shower, dried, and into bed before you felt the weight of his disinterest in you settle any heavier. 
“Hey  I'm all done now, and I'm gonna hit the hay, so bathrooms all yours.”
“Thanks,” he said and immediately strode in, shutting the door behind him without another word. 
You wished you could shake the man. You weren't exactly used to being so pointedly avoided by a peer, and it was honestly making you feel rather indignant. You wanted to grab his attention and hold it any way you could, so much so that your palms started itching. 
The sounds of Spencer's shower interrupted your attempts to rest, so you set about organizing your things instead. Folding your shirts, you placed them in your go bag, taking inventory on how many fresh outfits you had left and how much laundry you'd have left to do when the case ended. 
It could've been the haze of sleep, or perhaps just an early warning bell, but no matter how many times you counted, you always came up short by one pair of panties. It took another minute of blinking out the sleep in your eyes, becoming suddenly alert again, that you realized it was the pair of panties you'd been wearing before your shower. 
“Fuck,” you sighed, trying to fill the deep pit of embarrassment opening in your stomach before it swallowed you from the inside out. “Fuck.” 
When in doubt, you found it best to curse at least twice. 
And just like that your coherent thoughts went out the window - a morning, afternoon and evening doing manual labor under the guise of a nice desk job would do that to any girl - and you found yourself opening the door to the bathroom without knocking first or even remembering Spencer Reid's presence in the room at all. 
He froze in shock as you came face to face with him, shirt and pants open, his long cock in his hands and his face flushed with erotic shock as he rubbed up and down the length of his cock. 
“Shit, fuck, Spencer I'm sorry I was- are those my panties?” 
Rather unabashedly, your eyes hadn't left his crotch as he froze in fear at your intrusion. 
“I'm not a pervert!” He shouted, still unable to let his dick go, so close to bliss as he was. 
“You're madturbating into my panties, Spencer. What other label would you put on that?” 
“You're really hot. It's hard to ignore. I don't usually do this, but they were in here on the floor, and I thought about taking them back out to you, but then you'd think I was a pervert for touching your underwear and then I imagined you thanking me and putting them back on right in front of me and my cock was so hard and you said you were going to sleep. Did you know most men masturbate eight times a week on average? Me doing this once while sharing a room with you for a week isn't statistically …that …bad. Why are you doing that?”  
You'd been done listening halfway through and had somehow found yourself sinking to your knees. He'd rested his body against the bathroom sink, so you organized yourself in front of him, staring up at him innocently as you wrapped your fingers around his hand. 
“I want to see what it was you were doing with my panties, Spencer,” You moved his hand up and down his length, slowly dragging the lacy material across each inch. “Please let me see.” 
The empty shower kept flowing and the room was thick with steam as you kept up a steady pace rubbing up and downs Spencer's cock. 
A sense of achievement hit you with each moan and gasp he let out. Every time his hips thrust up into your hand, each time his hand stroked your hair in thanks for your copious attention. 
You'd finally gotten through to Spencer Reid in a way that you were about to make sure was mutually beneficial. 
His moans got louder and harder to conceal with a bite of the lip as he got closer to cumming. He really was a pervert, letting his coworker jerk him off in a motel bathroom while on a case. He was practically begging for release. 
“Cum for me Spencer. Make my face pretty, please please please.”
His eyes shot open wide as you stuck your tongue out, just in time to taste his cum on your lips. A few stray ropes hit your chin and cheek as well, with the majority staining the panties you'd come in to search for. 
“Thank you, Spencer,” You giggled, wiping away his cum and standing yourself up to come face to face with him. 
“Y/N, it won't-” You cut him off with a kiss that he eagerly returned hands, falling all over your body in his haste to feel every part of you. His tongue pressed into your mouth like he was a cartographer mapping out its caverns, desperate to learn each soft caress you returned off by heart. 
“If you were about to say it won't happen again, I suggest you think again, Spencer. I want this to happen again. Regularly.”
You shut off the shower and turned on your heel, walking back out to the bedroom and out of the heat for a few minutes. 
“You want to jerk me off?”
“Yes.”
“And I'm the pervert?” 
“You were using my panties and your hand like a fleshlight, Spencer. Yes, you are a pervert.”
“I'm a pervert but you still want to jerk me off?” 
“Yes.” 
“Okay.”
That's how it began. Your decade-long escapade with Spencer Reid. It wasn't that you dated. He was still unsure about how to approach you for another few months after that, but there was nothing like the relaxation of a few orgasms to really help you warm up to somebody. 
For the first few years, a case didn't pass without one of you slipping into the others motel room for some late night entertainment. 
You knew just how deep his fingers could hit inside you after only two weeks. You became obsessed with how well his cock could stretch you out, how his hands would gently rub around your clit in circles while you bounced up and down on his length. How he watched your breasts bounce with untold wonder in his eyes. 
You most of all loved that his tongue was as eager to taste you as you had been that very first time to taste his cum. 
Half the times he let himself into your room, he'd satisfy himself by eating you out lazily for hours on end, making you moan his name while you came on his fingers and tongue. Every flash of violet that he caught a glimpse of - that first pair of panties - drove him crazy. 
Motels and hotels and once the back seat of an SUV after a long drive became your time to get closer to your coworker. You never once thought of bringing this physical relationship home with you, though, and it wasn't a continuous thing. 
You'd had to take it easy when he got shot in the leg, not wanting to hurt him anymore. And again, when he'd gotten shot in the neck, though a few times he'd begged you to close his hospital door and help him out still. 
And you'd both distanced yourself after Emily's death and miraculous resurrection. Surprisingly enough,  you'd found your heart slightly twisted when he'd begged the team for help rescuing his girlfriend from a stalker. 
But you always found your way back in his bed with his tongue pressed against yours and his cock buried as deep into you as far as it could go. In the decade you'd been sleeping with the secretly perverted and somewhat insatiable Spencer Reid you'd never gone longer than three months without his body in your bed. 
Until he went to prison. 
The weight of your grief at losing him was unparalleled. You'd been heartbroken when Emily had died, but it paled in comparison to the thought of his isolation. Penelope had to remind you to eat, Luke had to engage you in conversation to keep you talking. 
Emily slipped a spare key to Reid's apartment to you somewhere around the three week mark, and you'd let yourself into a place you'd only ever heard described. You slept in his bed to feel his scent wrapped around you, touched yourself there to remind yourself that you were just feeling the loss of a sexual partner and friend and nothing more. It was lust and sexual frustration driving your depression. That was all. 
Spencer came out different. Everyone did. On the surface, he was still kind, still a little bit nerdy, and he still wasn't the best at reading social cues, but there was an intensity to him that wasn't there before. 
On cases, he'd wrap a hand around your waist and push a hand just slightly under your shirt while you introduced yourself to local detectives. He'd hug you at the end of every work day, breathing in your scent and telling you how tired he was. 
His hand would firmly cover your thigh and not move the entire duration of any car ride, team dinner or family event, and he'd kiss the back of your neck and grope your breasts each and every elevator ride you took alone together. 
Spencer Reid hadn't been able to keep his hands off of you for six whole months, and yet he hadn't actually touched you.
Every time you'd knocked on his motel door, he'd not opened it, and he hadn't once come to yours. 
You'd expected him every day for a week after he'd first gotten out and had even explicitly told him so. You texted your address, invited him over, and sent him pictures of you in those infernal panties that you really didn't wear that often anymore. 
He desired you still, you knew enough from brushing past him and feeling his semi push against your ass, you knew in every hug where he touched you just enough to know he wanted more but still had the control to pull away. 
You knew that he only kissed your neck, because if he kissed your lips his tongue would wander all the way to your cunt and he'd be on his knees between yours making you scream his name in pleasure. 
Spencer Reid wanted to avoid you, but he still wanted you, and after six months of celibacy you were tired of waiting around for him to finally crack. 
Emily had never asked for the spare key back. With 10 years of dalliances under your belt, you were sure the entire office had caught on, if not before prison, then certainly after his hands took possession of your body after his release. She wasn't going to ask for the key back because that was like asking a question she probably would sleep better without having the answer to. 
Spencer started his professorial work, and you finished some nights before he could manage the commute home, so it was easy to let yourself into his apartment for the confrontation. 
When Spencer finally turned his key in the lock, he found you there  on your knees on the floor in a matching violet set of lingerie. Not your originals, but certainly close enough - smaller, though. 
“Y/N, what are you doing here?” 
“I'm just sitting here in my underwear for fun, Spencer. You should try it sometime.”
He frowned at your sarcastic reply but stepped closer to you, topping your head up to meet his gaze with a quick flick of his finger. 
“I mean it, Y/N. Why are you here?” 
“I…I want you to touch me again.” 
“I touch you plenty, Y/N. I touch you here,” he traced your lips. 
“And here.” His fingers fell to your neck, sweeping some hair off your shoulders. 
“And a lot here, too.” He cupped one breast in his hand and gave it a squeeze, and you let your head rest against his thigh as he slipped a finger into your bralette. 
“I want you to touch me more, Spencer.”
“How? How should I touch you? Be a little pervert for me and tell me, Y/N?”
Your breathing faltered for a second as he pinched your nipple and you bit your lip before you told him exactly what he wanted to hear. 
“I want to feel your dick buried deep in my pussy. I want to cum on your tongue. I want you to stretch me out with your fingers and I want you to fill me up with your cum. Please, Spencer, I miss you so much.” 
He said nothing but withdrew his hand from your chest and distanced himself slightly, turning his face away from you. 
“Spencer, please, what's wrong? Did I do something-”
“Do you miss me? Or do you miss fucking me?” The words would regularly send you into an indignant stomp, and part of you was still begging you to let out a shout of “what the hell is that supposed to mean.” 
But Spencer was frozen still in the doorway of his house, almost statuesque as a melancholic look overwhelmed his features. 
Your courage drained your body as you stood up and pulled the shirt you'd earlier discarded back on. 
“Spencer? Look at me, please.” 
He did reluctantly, and that blank expression still filled his eyes with gloom. 
You grabbed his hand and pulled him to the couch, sitting him down and wrapping yourself around him. 
You say there, head pressed into his neck, legs straddling him as his arms slowly came up to pulling you back in. Your heart beat harder by the second, and you counted down the minutes as you worked up courage.
“I missed you so much I drove myself insane. I had to sleep here for a week straight after they told me you were put in solitary. Every day, I thought of your hands on my body and how much I missed seeing your fingers flipping through a book on the jet. I missed asking you what you were reading, and I missed convincing you to put the book down.” 
You pulled your head up to meet his gaze and slowly let your mouth fall to his lips. It was slow, soft. An innocent peck in the context of your usual caresses. It spoke the words I miss you more effectively than your voice could, and neither of you seemed to want to part from the warm embrace. 
“I missed you, Spencer Reid.” You spoke, cutting off your kiss as you grew more impassioned by his touch, breathing harder and speaking faster and faster now as you kept on. 
“I missed you when you came back because you kept your hands on me. You let yourself enjoy my body in public but wouldn't let me share your bed in private. You hugged me, but you wouldn't let me hold you, and you have not once spoken about how you feel, you have not once told me that you are okay now or that you are not okay and you need my shoulder to cry on.”
He was silent until your tears sprung forth, and then he was everywhere around you, kissing the drops from your face, shushing you and whispering words of encouragement and thanks and love into your ears while he placated your breaking heart.
Because somehow you fell in love with the pervert who stole your panties and now you were sitting in a room with a mostly broken man, begging him to use you to feel whole again. 
“I love you, Spencer. Please, please let me touch you.” 
“I love you, too,” he whispered against your lips, hands finding your hips again as he finally pushed his tongue into your mouth. 
His nails bit into the skin at your thighs as he forced you not to move, instead grinding up into you after another heated kiss. 
“It was hard, but you kept me going. Memories of you, your mouth, your scent your wet cunt wrapped around my cock, you kept me alive in that place.” He worked you up with each dirty confession as his hands pushed the shirt back off your shoulders and bared the lingerie to him once again. 
“Then I was out, and you were still the same as I remembered, but I was different, and I needed more from you. But I couldn't take more, and I didn't want to ask you to give more because I could not beg one more person to love me.” 
“You don't have to beg, Spencer, I love you already, I love you I love you I love you.” 
“Y/N, you don't understand. I am completely enamoured with you. I want to possess you, I want to keep you in my room, I want to have a hand on you at all times. I want to put a bullet in any man who looks at you because you are mine. I'm not a pervert, I'm a monster, and I'm going to hurt you.”
“Possess me, hurt me, keep me, Spencer, do whatever you want to me, I will let you. Just please don't leave me.” 
Your teeth clicked together in his haste to recapture your lips again, his cock hard and already sprung from his pants thanks to two pairs of quick working hands. 
He pushed aside your panties, and he was inside you, pressed to the hilt recapturing the place that was home to him. 
“You picked this color for me. You wanted me to lose control and fuck you and you got what you wanted,” he whispered in your ear as you locked your ankles together behind his back. 
“I did.”
“Good. I'm going to rip them shred by shred from your body so nobody else can see you acting like such a desperate wet cunt ever again.” 
You let out a gasp at his words, and his tongue dropped back down your throat as he rutted into you ferociously. 
“Spencer, yes, fuck me. FUCK!” 
Your hips met his in a furious clash, his hand making their way around to your butt cheek as he aided your thrusting, pulling you up and down the length of his cock. 
“That's it, look at your boobs bouncing for me, sweetheart. Your body knows when it's being fucked right, it knows when I'm here, and I'm the only one who can make you feel this good, right baby?” 
“Yes, Spencer. Yes!” 
His hand came back up to your clit as you met his hips more enthusiastically than before, fucking yourself on the length of him. 
“You're going to cum on my cock. Show me how much you missed me,  missed this.” 
“So much, missed you so much, Spence….need your cum inside me, fill me up Spencer, please."
It took both of you only a few more desperate thrusts to reach the climax you'd waited half a year for. You convulsed on his dick, shuddering underneath him as he filled you with rope after rope of cum.
But when you had both caught your breath, you still didn't let go, still holding on to him desperately as of he'd vanidj in another second despite your confessions. 
“Y/N…” he cooked into your ear as you buried your face in his chest again. “Y/N, we need to get you to bed.” 
“I'm not leaving.” 
“No, you're not. But you're not sleeping on my couch either.”
You pulled away just enough to watch his face as he dipped down for another sweetly chaste kiss. 
Lifting himself up, and pulling his cock out of you, you whimpered a little at the loss of his warmth, but after rearranging himself in his pants, he pulled you up next to him and wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug as he slowly walked you back towards his bedroom. 
“You really slept at my apartment?”
“I slept in your bed. I'm sorry, I know it was overstepping, but you were gone and I-”
“Missed me, I know.” His hands traced your spine again before cupping around your bare ass and hooking it under to touch your soaked cunt. 
“How much did you miss me, Y/N? How did you spend your nights here?” His fingers once again hooked under the panties, but instead of pulling them to the side, he quickly pulled at the seams, and you heard a ripping sound aa his eyes demanded the answer to your question. 
“Close the door, and I'll shoe you exactly what I did here, Spencer. I'll show you everything.’ 
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starlessea2 · 8 months
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The Dawn Watch (Astarion)
Pairing: Astarion x Reader [Baldur's Gate 3]
Summary: As dawn breaks the morning after the tiefling party, you find a vampire basking in the sun. In the daylight, all of his pretty words start to unravel. (Act 1 spoilers).
A/N After a week of feverishly playing (and completing) BG3, here's my first Astarion writing. Part 1/3 of a WIP mini-series called the Sunlight Chronicles.
Masterlist
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Sunlight was warm on your eyes. It coaxed them open and made you blink: once hard, twice fast. Your lids were heavy, yet you could hardly remember closing them in the first place. Neither could you recall dozing off in a pile of leaves. 
As you pressed yourself into the ground, the forest floor rustled beneath you. A cacophony of dried foliage and bark, made somewhat comfortable by the mossy overgrowth. It took you a moment to understand your surroundings.
The tiefling party had bustled on into the early hours. It was the first reprieve you’d allowed yourself since being plucked from Baldur’s Gate and thrust into this new adventure. But, perhaps you had overindulged… 
There was a fire in your belly still, laden with mead and lingerings of lust, and it had led you here: stark-naked and alone on the outskirts of camp. 
A chuckle sounded behind you. “I was starting to wonder whether I’d drank you dry.”
You sprung up to your elbows. Not alone, you suddenly remembered.
Your head whipped around, settling on the figure bathed in the light of the low sun. “But alas, you were just making good on that beauty sleep. Morning, pet.” 
Rubbing the bleariness from your eyes, you found Astarion. He was radiant. Rays of dawn had snuck through the trees, dappling between branches onto his pale skin. And his hair... Caught in that glow, it looked like leftover starlight. 
The only thing letting him down was his smile. It was utterly charming, as always. But it was more obvious in the daytime; that smile was well-practised.
“Umm, good morning,” you eventually croaked back.
Your eyes locked with Astarion's, too nervous to wander over his body. He noticed, of course, and so he paced before you—a small strut, hands on his hips to invite your appraisal.
You looked away. Even in the warmth of the sun, you could feel the man’s contribution to your cheeks. It incited a laugh from him. 
“Oh now don’t pretend to be coy, my sweet,” he said. “Not when there was hardly any of that last night.”
You turned your head; any liquid courage you’d gotten from the party had long since worn off. But now sober, Astarion made your heart ache. His falsity was clear as day. He uttered the words you so desperately wanted to hear, but delivered them on the back of a deceitful voice. 
A sigh escaped you; perhaps the only time he hadn’t lied was when he’d called you naive. 
Awaiting your reply, Astarion became indignant. "What?" he asked. "Disappointed at the lack of morning cuddle? If you ask nicely, perhaps I’ll come back to join—”
"No," you said. "I just..." His eyes watched your every move, red and calculating. You took a moment to collect yourself. "I'm surprised that you stayed at all," you admitted. "Didn't take you for the type." 
His hand fell over his chest. "Oh, how you wound me! I try to do the gentlemanly thing, and yet you accuse me and look at me like that."
You cocked a brow. "Like what?"
Astarion let out an exasperated sigh. "Let’s just say it’s easier to know what you're thinking when your eyes are shut.” He made a face, mortifyingly reminiscent of one you’d likely pulled the night before, and your mouth fell ajar.
If you’d been wearing shoes, you would have hurled one at him. But embarassed and barefoot, you instead dug your palms into the soil, more than ready to depart.
Astarion was roused into action. "Oh come on, my dear," he said softly. He sunk to the floor beside you, coaxing you to stay. "All in good fun."
You deliberated for a moment, watching him in your peripheral. There was a smile on his face but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Somewhere in the depths of your mind, a pang of hurt made itself known. You quickly squashed it down, hoping Astarion had not noticed it in his.
Whatever feelings had bubbled over last night were absent this morning, you could just tell. Perhaps he no longer found you interesting now that he'd conquered you. Maybe he'd pursued you just to break your heart, or gods forbid, he'd been put off after sleeping with you—
“It’s just so warm.”
The words left Astarion, quiet as a whisper. But then his eyes widened and his lips formed a taut line—as though they'd never intended to let anything escape at all.
"What?" you started. But with one small glance at the man, you realised; he was talking about the sun.
For a moment, you watched him, basking in the glow like there was no place he'd rather be. You hummed in agreement. “I guess it’s something we all take for granted here.” 
He nodded. It became obvious then; he hadn’t stayed for you, but for the sunrise.  
“Astarion, I–”
He snapped his head. The look in his eyes cautioned you—told you the two of you weren’t that close. But something behind that almost dared you to try.
Against your better judgement, you proceeded. “You might have already guessed, but I’m no early riser." A chuckle instinctively followed. “I know Lae’zel told us not to question the shifts she allocated, but..." you paused, "who wants to take watch at the crack of dawn? Certainly not me.”
It was silent for a moment—save for the soft lilting of birds and the occasional breeze. Yet even then, the morning dawned so quiet that your breaths felt loud.
It took a few seconds for Astarion to reanimate, but when he did, it was with a smile. “Oh, my dear... If you’re struggling that badly, you could’ve just said." He sat up, readjusting to meet you straight on. “It’s not a bother swapping with you—if the night shift is more to your taste.”
Your heart felt warm. Truthfully, you liked the dawn watch, but you had a feeling it would be better appreciated by him. “That would be wonderful, thank you."
You had an inkling that Astarion recognised your ploy, but but if did, he wasn’t making a show of it. His hand wove its way into yours, and pressed it into forest bed. “My pleasure," he said. Then he leaned forward with a grin.
You anticipated a kiss, but he stopped before your neck, tracing the bloody bruise he'd bestowed with his lips—worrying last night's sore between his teeth. “It's the least I can do...”
As he mumbled against your skin, a shiver sparked through your shared connection.
“I’ll be more gentle next time." His breath fanned hot over your ear. “Both ways.”
You let out a gasp. "It's okay, we don’t have to—” The words ejected from you, all flustered and not at all how you pictured them.
Astarion offered a smirk in return, but it was accompanied by an expression you now recognised.
He thought you naive.
“Precious,” he said beneath his breath, before returning your crumpled dress to you. “Now come. We best not keep the others waiting.”
And so you followed his lead and quickly dressed: smoothing your hair and attempting to rid your cheeks of their flush.
If anyone asked, you'd say you were sun-kissed.
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Note
I have something fluffy to give you🥰🩷
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Bucky sees Single Mom!Reader at the local grocery store and Bucky being the gentleman he is offers to help her with her crying baby🥺
"Guess I'm Just Good With Them"
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PAIRINGS: James "Bucky" Barnes x SingleMom!Reader
WARNINGS: Bucky being good with babies.
WORD COUNT: 867
*not proof-read*
ENJOY!
"Leila, honey. I know, but- Shh, shh," you pull your cart over to sit next to the toy aisle as you bounce your, now wailing, one-year-old girl on your arm.
"My love, I know, I know. But we gotta keep quiet," you wince as you feel the glares of the other ongoing shoppers on you and your child.
Being a single mom has its ups and downs, the ups are the highlights of your life. Witnessing the mini-you walk for the first time, saying "mama" for the first time, seeing her give you that gummy smile you love so much.
The others aren't your defining lows, but they hover in that range. The late nights, the screams, the tantrums, the picky eating. You had to do it yourself because your ass of an ex left you immediately when you said that you were pregnant.
"Leila, baby. Mama doesn't know what you want, honey," you have tried everything, but your girl wouldn't calm down to anything and nothing works. Your anxiety just increases as the number of glares doesn't stop rising.
You're on the verge of tears when suddenly you feel a tap on your shoulder.
"Ma'am, do you need some help?" a rough voice says behind you.
You turn and see this big, broad man with this sheepish look on his face, and the bluest eyes.
"I- uh," you stutter unsure what to do, you can't randomly dump your baby on some random stranger.
He shifts his weight from side to side, looking at your baby with a small smile. Leila whines harder and it slightly pierces your ears, you cringe and bounce her quicker than before.
The man picks out a Piglet stuffed animal from the toy aisle and shakes it in front of Leila. Her wail quiets down, and she reaches for the stuffed cartoon character.
Soon, it's just her flushed puffy face and dried tears on her cheeks as she holds the toy close.
"I-oh my god, thank you," you tell the stranger, he gives a tight-lipped smile and nods at your words.
"I can hold on to her and follow you around, while you do your shopping," he suggests, and you hesitate slightly but give in eventually knowing that this won't go anywhere if you don't take action now.
You hand Leila to the man, and he softly coos at the little girl. Leila seems fascinated by his gold and dark green metal arm.
"What's her name?" he asks, looking at you. "Oh uh, Leila," you say, pulling your cart closer to you. "And your's?" You blink at his question, before offering your with a timid voice.
"I'm James," he smiles softly.
-----
You finally paid for everything in your cart, and the tension in your shoulders seems to ease at the idea of you finally being able to get home.
Putting everything in the trunk of your car was easily done, with the weight of your child in James' arms.
Turning back to James, you see Leila still holding the stuffed Piglet.
"Leila, no, we didn't pay for that," you try to reach for the toy, but your stubborn little girl refuses to budge.
James chuckles, and he shakes his head, "it's alright, I paid for it. She can have it."
You're silent.
You're gobsmacked.
Did this man, this random stranger buy your child a toy?
That's more than your ex ever did.
"I-huh?-wha- James, you didn't have to do that," you quickly reach for your wallet, adamant about paying him back.
He grabs your wrist with one hand, his metal one carrying a tired Leila, "really, you don't have to."
You sigh and smile tiredly at him.
Sometimes, you underestimate the kindness of strangers. And as a single mom, you really are grateful for anything that comes your way.
You take Leila back into your arms and she's whipped. She immediately finds comfort in your arms and closes her eyes.
"Well, I guess we should get going."
Why did you say it like that?
Why did you say it like you didn't want to leave yet?
Like you didn't want to leave him yet.
You can see a sadness flash through James's face as he nods slowly, "yes, guess I should go too."
You both nod but remain standing at the Walmart parking lot.
"I should really go," you nod your head over your shoulder.
He nods as well.
As you turn to leave, he calls out your name.
"Is there a chance that I could grab your number?" He scratches the back of his neck. "I would like to see you and Leila again."
You blush at his words.
He wants to see you again?
You nod slightly and type your number into his flip-phone, you laughed when he first pulled it out.
You chuckle unable to wrap your mind around the idea of this gorgeous man wanting to ask for your number, "I still don't have a clue on how you managed to get her to quiet down back in there."
He laughs lightly and saves your name with a small heart next to it, you don't have to know that he did that. "Guess I'm just good with them."
💌💌💌
ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS PROMPT, BABES!!!
Bucky + children = me being super horny
I just wanna have a life, where this man is really 😩😩
Till' then
Stay Coquette-y,
Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀
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spiriteddreams · 7 months
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waited around, I should've known you wouldn't show / and I'm just a fool who spent her birthday all alone — maisie peters (birthday) cw: angst
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neuvillette, who has to go to the courthouse on your birthday. he says, "the law demands that i be there.” and who are you to argue against the iudex. justice waits for no one, not even you. and you’re only left to wonder if he even remembers if it's your birthday or not. he leaves you with a kiss on the forehead, so brief and chaste that when you step out for the day, the wind seems to wipe it away as if mocking you. and you count the minutes from the moment you wake, as balloons are inflated and then float away, as wax melts down candles one by one and as the day comes and goes. and neuvillette doesn't show. 
and when he returns, house cold and curtains drawn shut, he is greeted by the silence of burnt out candles and opened gifts, none of which are signed by him. the gift that he has brought feels heavy in his hands. guilt guides his figure as he navigates through the hallways once filled with warmth, now devoid of any light, just remnants of a party that he didn't attend. 
and as the clocks hands drag closer and closer to midnight you sit there alone, still halfway hopeful that he'll show. so you can only wonder if he remembers, or if he even cares. actions speak louder than words, and the silence of your home reminds you that to neuvillette, the law stands above all else. and that selfish part of you wishes that for once, he would make an exception for you. for your birthday. because while it is wonderful to spend a special day such as your birthday with your closest friends, there is a small part of you that wishes that if anyone, neuvillette would have remembered, he would have come.
as you drift off to sleep, you miss the sound of the door opening and closing. you miss the sound of footsteps padding across the floor. you miss his guilty eyes, clouded with the dull throb of an aching chest, and the unmistakable shudder of his breath as he steps closer to your tired figure. you’ve pulled the sheets closer to yourself, as if trying to comfort yourself, tugging whatever lingering warmth he might’ve left you with in the morning.
he wonders, how long will you stay like this, how long will you allow him to show up to every moment of your life late, to only crawl beneath the sheets to savor your comfort and warmth in the middle of the night. because it’s unfair to you, neuvillette thinks to himself, and he must be the most selfish man of all to still crave the softness of your heart and hands, a special spot carved out for him. he is selfish, he thinks to himself. selfish and cruel and undeserving of the welcome of your embrace.
and yet you turn around, seemingly in tune with his actions and thoughts. he sees the hurt in your eyes, the dried tears and puffy eyes, the slight part of your lips with angry words ready to spill. but you say nothing and instead untangle yourself from the bedsheets and hold them open for him. you take in his hesitance but still don’t say a word, and neuvillette wonders if the silence is hurting you more than it is him.
“i’m truly sorry,” he rasps out. his voice wavers, fingers tremble and yet you stare at him in the dim light of your room. “i don’t deserve your forgiveness, but—“
“come to bed.” your voice is stern but still kind. for a moment he hesitates again, but finds himself moving towards the bed, towards you, without thinking. your warmth is comforting and familiar, daresay he considers it forgiving. 
“thank you for coming home.”
the clock strikes 12, the sign of a new day, and he finds that he's forgotten to wish you happy birthday.
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reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated
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