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rinseis · 6 months

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RUMOR HAS IT HE’S PUSSY-WHIPPED [ RYOMEN SUKUNA ]

❥ more of best friend!sukuna & dean’s daughter!yn; there’s a rumour going around—that sukuna can’t get off unless it’s with you. but what else can he do when his best friend is avoiding him except to show up at your door uninvited and convince you that you want him too?

word count. 2.3k ♱ content warnings: female reader, nsfw - mdni, modern college au, best friend!sukuna, dean’s daughter!reader, sukuna’s a tad possessive, creampie, pet names (good girl, princess), fingering, lots of profanity.

“Oh god, Suku—”

Immediately, Sukuna’s eyes shoot up to glare at the poor girl, hips stilling while he quickly grows irate at her voice. His discontent shows through his crimson eyes, leaning down to her ears with a warning, “shut up, or I’ll fucking stop right now.”

Nodding her head, Sukuna shoots her a last warning look before slowly looking away, her half-lidded eyes shutting once more as he starts moving his hips again. Now that she’s shut up, all that can be heard is her bed frame creaking under their weight and the sound of skin slapping skin.

The girl’s slowly losing it, her head stuffed into the pillow because Sukuna can’t stand the sight of her, her ass in the air as he fucks her from behind. It doesn’t matter how fucking hot she is or that she’s the captain of the cheerleading squad. Fuck that because all Sukuna can think about since that moment four days ago is how he really just wants to fuck you.

It’s been a whole four days that he hasn’t seen you—and he’d like to think it’s solely because of your final year project, because it’s normal for you to vanish and cram yourself within books until they’re over, but it’s definitely not normal for you to not even respond to his damn texts.

Countless times he’s asked you where you are, whether you wanted supper, or hell he even dropped his pride and asked you to reply him. You’re driving him up the walls and he can’t take it.

In front of him, the girl—he can’t remember her name for crying out loud—is already creaming around his cock, yet he can’t find the mood to spill inside her or anywhere, really, because it has to be you. You have to reverse this shit.

“Cum inside my mouth?” The girl’s already on her knees, taking Sukuna’s cock around her fingers but he’s already pushing her away, telling her don’t bother before he flings the condom away and wears his hoodie and sweats, retreating from her room.

He gets on his motorbike, and fuck the helmet because he has absolutely no patience for it, sets the GPS to your apartment and revs off.

If you’re going to act like that day never happened, looks like he’s going to have to go to you and find out.

When he gets to your apartment, your roommates let him in without question; well at least that looks like you didn’t say anything that bad about him, if ever. People have long since asked you how you tolerated being friends with him, given his perpetual need for getting into trouble and having you bail him out, but it works. They’re butting in unnecessarily for all he cares.

Sukuna’s been to your apartment more times than he can count. Ever since college started, whenever he didn’t have girls over he’d chosen to relegate to your bedroom and annoy the shit out of you. Still, you’d always let him in, studying or not. Maybe that’s why he’s particularly frustrated now, since you’re shutting him out.

The moment the door swings open, you feel the gush of wind hitting your hair. You’re about to give your housemate a snarky remark about it until you swivel around only to find Sukuna there, sharp eyes glaring at you.

Usually you’d make some joke about how he really shouldn’t do shit like this else people would think you’d have a stalker, but you guess his reaction is somewhat warranted. So maybe you didn’t think things through before fucking your frustrations out on him that day. And maybe you’d been avoiding him more than necessary because as much as you know it should’ve been a one-time mistake, it’s hard not to crave more.

Maybe he’s here for the exact same thing.

In an instant, the door swings shut and Sukuna presses you against the wall, minimal distance between your bodies, his thumb tracing your lower lip and his lashes fluttering against your own.

It’s irritating how just these simple actions can make you all flustered, and even more irritating that you can feel his dick under his sweats. He’s hard, hard as you remember that day, that day you can’t forget about even after trying.

“You busy?” Sukuna asks, as if he hadn’t just seen you working on your project right as he trudged through your door.

But it’s Sukuna. He’s the worst at sane relationships and even worse at communication. Of course, it takes an equally fucked up person to know what he means to ask is are you too fucking busy for me that you won’t respond to my texts or pick up my calls?

“Working on my—”

“Found someone else to fuck?” Sukuna asks, your explanation, or your attempt at one, falling on deaf ears.

Right then, you realise what this is all about, and you remember that this—whatever you and Sukuna are—is nothing more than best friends exploring hidden territory, working out the chinks in this… transaction.

You smirk, tips of your noses touching, his hips subtly grinding against yours. “What? Jealous now?” you tease, your hands moving under his hoodie and onto his skin, Sukuna’s eyes fluttering close as he tightens his jaw, the uncontrollable feeling of wanting to take you right here right now taking over.

Sukuna’s hand finds itself around your neck, gently pushing you further against the wall, his eyes slowly opening, those crimson eyes unyielding when he wants them to be. “Answer me.”

When he hears the no leaving your lips, he ignores the relief he feels, because why should he be? Relieved for what? He throws the fleeting thought of not being able to handle it if you said yes out the window too. You’re just his best friend who he happens to think is hot. That’s all.

“Ahhhh—”

Sukuna smirks when his fingers find your clit under your dress, pleasantly surprised to find you already wet. And god you sound better than all those other girls so he’s not going to shut you up for a while. He keeps his face nuzzled against your own, his hand slipping into your underwear, coating your clit with your own slick as he rubs around it because apparently you moan even more like that—and you moan his name, the reverberations and decibels just right.

“I’m—fuck, I’m busy, Suku—”

“Then tell me you want me to stop,” he challenges you, his middle finger plunging inside your wetness, your mouth falling open helplessly. Sukuna’s already winning, and he knows it, and fuck he wants to savour this moment because being the little fucker you are you might avoid him even more if you feel even shittier after this. The reason escapes him, though, because he knows you want him too.

As you feel your knees growing weak, you abandon all your other thoughts. Fuck it, you’ve been craving this since that day and Sukuna’s offering, why resist? So you quickly yank his hoodie off of him, his sweats and boxers shortly after, your eyes dragging across his body, muscles ripped and tattoos for days. He’s a completely different guy from your ex and maybe that’s why he gets your motors going more. If you were with Sukuna, there’s no way you’d be able to wait.

“Whoa slow down, princess,” he chuckles as you push him down against your bed, but his dick print against his pants says otherwise. Even then, as you hover over him on your knees, your hands teasing at the hem of your dress, Sukuna looks at you shamelessly, his eyes savouring every inch of your body that it can devour. When you take your dress off, achingly slow, he swallows the lump in his throat, your lace black lingerie practically begging to be taken off. “Fucking beautiful.”

You sit on top of him, both of you equally aroused, his cock throbbing against your clothed clit and your hips instinctively grinding against him. His hands grip your waist, pushing you down on him even more.

“Someone’s impatient,” you comment, scrunching your nose, the way he’s struggling to control himself underneath you making you giggle. “Have you only been able to cum by jerking off to me?”

You’re really a piece of work, Sukuna’ll give you that. That smug grin and those perfect tits, you should be illegal. Still, he hooks his index finger around your bra, pulling you down to him so you’re face to face.

“That’s right, still gonna make me wait?” Because you’re right, no matter how much he’d rather you weren’t. Jerking off in his room remembering what you looked like writhing under him isn’t the worst, so he’ll admit it.

Just like that, a simple little admittance and you’re already a little stunned, and Sukuna’s a little too frustrated—from both his earlier tryst and the four days of waiting—to wait anymore. Taking advantage of your slight falter, he pushes your underwear to the side, pushing slowly inside you—just because he likes to see your face when he does.

“T-too big—” you squeeze your eyes shut, his cock threatening to split you open.

Sukuna pulls your hair to one side, tucking a lock behind your ear, gentle fingers pulling your cheeks down for a quick peck on the forehead. “Then I guess we’d better make you get used to it, huh?”

You let the uncharacteristically tender kiss fly over your head, too consumed by the pleasure to fully comprehend anything. By the time he’s fully inside you, all you hear is his hushed whispers of good girl and then move. Last you remember, you’d intended to make him beg for it but somehow you’re already listening to him, your hips moving and chasing that same pleasure Sukuna’s looking for. His hands move up to undo your clasp, letting your bra fall off your body and onto the floor.

Looking at you like this, underwear pushed to the side, perfect tits bouncing as he fucks you, your pretty face threatening to break apart—Sukuna can’t help but groan because fuck has he said you’re perfect?

Unlike everyone else, with you, he can feel the high coming. When you move like that, when you clench around him so tight, even just by the sound of your saccharine moans; Sukuna’s already so dangerously close. Why is it so easy for you?

“Close already?”

There you go again, you and your teasingly smug voice, though it’s not irritating when it comes from you. No, when it comes from you, it’s sexy.

“All your fucking fault for making me wait so long,” he hisses through broken moans, both of you drowning in each other.

You take the initiative this time, kissing him just to shut him up, though you’re amused by just how much you managed to get under his skin by doing so little. “Mmm, thought it was more fun that way.”

A total lie, but much better than letting him know that you were vexed about any possible feelings that could come in between your friendship. Probably not from Sukuna, you think, because he has a track record for never being compassionate about any human being ever. Sometimes you think he’s the devil incarnate and that you’re lucky enough to be the one exception to his cardinal rule of being an asshole to everyone.

Sukuna grips your ass all of a sudden, squeezing it tight before releasing suddenly and giving it a tight slap, the sting making you squeal. “Do that again and you’ll get to know just how much I want you.”

There’s something in the way he says that that sounds enticing to you. Either that, or it’s the underlying meaning that you’re not all too sure of. Either way, you involuntarily clench around him and he chuckles upon noticing it, your embarrassment overridden by the surge of emotions you feel as he kisses you again, this time softly, although his hips move the opposite, faster and faster as he tells you “cum with me.”

And you do, his fervent thrusts sending you off the edge, his cum shooting inside of you for the third time this week—a record that the both of you intend on breaking somehow because now that you’ve had a real taste of things, it’s growing into an addiction.

“Ah fuck—you’re still so- fucking tight,” he hisses as you try to pull away, his eyes watching intently as his cum trickles down your thighs, an undeniable fact that right now, that’s where he belongs, between your thighs and no one else’s. Somehow, you collapse on top of him, and it’s nothing new by now—but unlike every other girl, he won’t push you away.

Instead, he lets you lay on top of him, hair a mess and matted with sweat, your underwear stained with his cum and your body melting into his own.

“Thought you were busy,” he reminds you, like the piece of shit he is.

You pinch him on the arm, something that you’re very good at because it actually hurts. “And whose fault is it that I got distracted?”

There’s a low rumbling in his chest, amused by your pouting. It’s at least good to know that he hasn’t been the only one frustrated. Judging by how quick you were to give in to him, looks like you were too.

“Hey, get up,” he whispers, smacking your ass.

You pout even more, tilting your head up to look at him. “What?”

“To shower and clean up, idiot,” he tells you, as if you’re stupid for asking.

But again, you know Sukuna better than everyone else, so you ask him again, “you just wanna fool around in the shower, don’t you?”

And judging by the shameless grin on his face, you have your answer.

#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk smut #sukuna smut #jjk sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #༊ &.writing

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purple-babygirl · 1 month

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in the far corner of the forest V

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 7,790 (you love me)

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: 18+ content, mentions of bruised skin, idiots in love, feels, a little crying, a little angst, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v (don't do that), multiple orgasms. I think that's all.

A/N: this is the longest part so far and no condolences to the jealous (iykyk) i love and appreciate you guys with my whole heart. also i suck at smut so please pretend to be aroused as you wait for the next part, thank you. please enjoy xx💜💜

She wiped her tears away, remembering Bucky’s words as she tried to calm down.

She bit her lip as her chest tightened at the pain she had heard in his voice, deeply regretting her part of the fight.

Did he really think she thought he was without feelings?

She might have seen him as a monster before, but that was in the very beginning when she didn’t know him at all, and she soon came to realize that she was wrong. Very wrong.

Her orc wasn’t a monster by any means. Not even close. If anything, it was the complete opposite. She saw him as a resilient soldier and admired the way he never lost the good things about him at war. To her, Bucky was a warrior; a hero.

Human or not, of course she treasured and cared about his feelings!

Bucky took care of her, brought her gifts without her ever asking, made her feel seen and heard and most of all liked. Loved even. He made her feel like she was some awesome friend worth laughing with and talking to.

She wanted to make sure that she made him feel the same way too. She couldn’t let him continue to believe the words he had said to her.

She opened the door of the cottage and looked outside, but Bucky was nowhere to be found. She sighed, shutting the door again and pressing her back to it as she thought about her next steps.

Life with Bucky was what she wanted, and she wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that truth.

She fetched the cloth she had tossed away before moving back to the kitchen.

She had only known real happiness alongside Bucky and she was going to let him know that. She was going to whip the cream for that cake even if they had to do without berries.

She was almost done smoothing the whipped cream over the cake when she heard the door to the cottage open and close.

She quickly rinsed her hands, ready to go out and make things right.

When she stepped out of the kitchen, however, she was met by the most endearing view she could have ever been met with and it rendered her speechless.

Her large snow orc was standing before her with a blush on his cheeks and a tiny fruit basket between his giant arms.

It was full of mixed berries.

She couldn’t hide her happy surprise as she stared at the sight before her, her mouth opening and closing a few times.

“Bucky?” She finally whispered his name, breaking the silence, her voice soft and laced with love.

Damn, that orc could steal hearts.

“I— uhh— borrowed the basket from Sarah,” Bucky muttered, pushing the basket forward for her to take as he avoided eye contact.

He really sucked at this and he knew it, but he was trying. He desperately wanted to make everything better. He knew he couldn’t take the yelling or the bruising back, but he badly needed to fix what he had so stupidly ruined, and the berries were his best bet.

She appreciatively took the basket out of his hand, hugging it to her chest.

“I’m sorry if they’re not as good as the ones you picked. It’s— it’s my first time uhm— picking berries,” Bucky admitted lowly, gesturing with his hands as his eyes wandered anywhere but on her, afraid of meeting her eyes and finding them disappointed or fearful still.

It was true. It was his first time doing any of this. Bucky was a rough orc. He did hunting, not foraging.

“They’re perfect,” she replied without even looking at the fruits, the gesture itself enough for her as she realized that under all this beef, her orc had hid a heart of gold and a softness to die for.

Bucky only nodded awkwardly, still unable to meet her eyes. He didn’t know how to act or what to say.

He was a soldier. He used to give orders and expect results, he didn’t do apologies or pluck raspberries as gently as possible in order not to squish them between his huge fingers.

She silently took the basket to the kitchen, a smile covering her face as her heart jumped.

Bucky walked in after her, leaning on the door frame and watching as she emptied the berries in a bowl and washed them.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of their earlier argument hanging heavy in the air.

“How’s your arm?” Bucky asked softly, swallowing in the fear of having left some serious damage on her.

Her smile faltered for a second when she remembered the way he had so harshly grabbed and held her, “it’s gonna be okay. Just a tiny bruise.” She reassured still, not wanting him to feel bad anymore.

Bucky’s fingers trembled as he ran a rough hand through his unkempt hair, the weight of his actions weighing heavily on his conscience.

“I hurt you,” he said, his voice thick with remorse. “I shouldn't have grabbed you like that. I really am sorry, little human.” Bucky sincerely apologized again.

Before she could reply, he stepped closer, taking hold of her hand before lowering his lips to her forearm.

The feeling of Bucky’s tusks ever so softly digging into her skin as Bucky left tender kisses all over the abused area made her shiver.

“I’m sorry; I’m a fool,” Bucky said into her skin as he pressed another kiss, “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry.” He pressed one final kiss before letting her arm go, “I will never doubt you again, sweet thing. Please forgive me.”

He stood there with the bluest puppy eyes, silently begging for her clemency as his hands hugged hers.

“I forgive you, Bucky.” She nodded with a shy smile, her own guilt gnawing at her insides as the fire that had rose on her skin in the wake of Bucky’s lips dissipated.

“It scared me when I came home and didn’t find you. I— I thought you were leaving me again.” He confessed lowly, “I didn’t know what to think.”

“I know. I should’ve at least left a note,” she thought out loud, her head down in regret, “I thought I would be home before you arrived so I didn’t feel the need to write one. I’m sorry, Bucky.” She gave his hand a desperate squeeze, “I really didn’t mean to scare you or make you feel like I was running away.”

“It’s okay.” Bucky smiled softly, regretting how poorly he had reacted as he brought her hand to his lips.

She was amazing. His night’s firefly.

“I don’t think of you as someone who doesn’t have feelings, Bucky,” she blurted out, her voice quivering with sincerity. “The kindness you show me... it's unlike anything I've ever known from humans. It's genuine, and real, and it's the reason I wanna be with you.”

Bucky listened in silence, an appreciative smile breaking on his handsome face.

“I care about you, Bucky, and I respect your feelings more than you know. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t.”

“I didn’t want to keep you when you didn’t want to stay, but it still hurt every time you left,” Bucky finally voiced his thoughts, sharing a part of his feelings and fears with her.

“Who—” She stopped to clear her throat, “who said I don’t wanna stay?”

“So you wanna be here for good? With me?” Bucky’s eyes lit up with hope as he intently watched her.

“Well, I made a cake, didn’t I?” She wouldn’t let her eyes meet his as she placed the berries on top of the smooth cake, her heart drumming in her chest.

“Let me hear it, sweet thing,” Bucky begged, unable to believe what he was hearing from her despite everything that has happened.

“I thought I’ve said it before,” she tried to tease, “and I’m wearing your ring, Bucky,” she chuckled shyly, her face hot.

Bucky kept waiting, wordlessly pleading her to tell him the words he so badly needed to hear.

She looked at him and saw passion drawn all over his face and she could only imagine she looked the same.

“I… wanna be here… with you, Bucky, for good,” she said before biting her lip, her own admittance sending a shudder down the back of her hot neck.

The simple sentence hit Bucky like a warm cup of cocoa on a stormy evening as he smiled.

He grabbed her hand and gave the palm of it a long kiss, getting berry residue on his cheek.

Thankfully, she didn’t take her hand away, giggling softly as her orc got his skin stained.

She smiled timidly when he pulled away, wiping his cheek clean with her other thumb.

“I know I haven’t made it easy for you, Bucky, but you’ve got to trust me. I don’t wanna leave you, not now, not ever.”

Bucky nodded, his heart soaring at the reassurance, “I trust you, little human.”

“Let’s eat our cake?” She asked, biting her lip.

Our. It was the first time she has ever used that word.

Bucky nodded with a grateful smile of his own, carefully carrying the cake out to the table outside.

She grabbed plates, forks and a knife and followed him.

Her heart was beating like crazy, yet it was the most relieved it had ever been now that they have made up.

She handed Bucky the knife and he cut through the cake.

She took the chance that he was busy and leaned forward to kiss his cheek, her lips lingering against his warm skin for a fleeting moment, “welcome home”.

Bucky could feel his chest burning up with the love it held for her.

For years, he had believed himself unworthy of love, of kindness, of anything resembling happiness. But in that short second with her lips on his cheek, he felt a twinkle of hope ignite within him, dispersing the darkness that had cloaked his heart for years.

The commotion that happened earlier had made him forget all about his kiss, but she didn’t.

She kissed him and with a smile too.

Bucky was love-sick, her gentle features stirring unparalleled emotions inside of him, softening his rough edges without even trying.

With a hesitant hand, he reached out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against the smooth skin in a silent promise of devotion. And as she leaned into his touch, cupping his hand with her tiny one, Bucky took an oath to cherish her, to protect her, and to love her with every fiber of his being for as long as he lived.

“Is there anyone around left from your tribe that I can meet?” She asked after Bucky had filled their plates with cake, interested to know more about her husband’s life as she handed him his fork.

She couldn’t help her curiosity anymore. She cared about Bucky and she needed to know why he was out here on his own. Where was his clan? Did he even have one? Do they know about her?

“No, just the two very close human friends,” Bucky sighed his answer before slipping a raspberry in his mouth, his thoughts running to his clan; the clan that had rejected and abandoned him years ago.

Okay, but where were the orcs? Now she was more curious and confused.

“What about your family?”

“You’re my family,” Bucky answered without hesitancy and she felt her heart flood with love as she speechlessly stared at his face.

“Where did you see me?” She wondered aloud, her tone hushed as she ached to know how and when he got to choose her.

“At the orphanage,” he started, a smile already spreading on his face as he recalled the memory, “me and Sam were delivering chairs and a few beds for the new rooms they had built.”

She listened, knowing exactly what he was talking about. She was part of the group that was instructed to clean the new building.

“I had just taken a bed down from the truck when I felt something drop on my head and before I knew it, it was raining. I was wiping the raindrops off my forehead.” Bucky’s fork played around with the berries on his plate before he looked up and into her eyes, “and I let my arm down and there you were, breathtaking as a daydream, laughing with another girl as you both ran inside before the rain could catch you.”

“How did I not see you?” She whispered, eyes welling up at the adoration she could see in his gaze.

“You were too busy being scared of the rain,” Bucky teased, “but I saw you.” Bucky’s thumb stroke drown her cheek, “I saw you and I knew I just had to see you again.”

“So that was when you asked the manager if I could be your wife?” She bit her lip, the thought now flattering to her rather than appalling as it used to be.

“No, that was when I intentionally slammed a chair down on the concrete and broke it to pieces so we could be one chair short and I could come again and hopefully sneak another peek at you.” Bucky laughed, remembering Sam’s reaction as he watched the chair he had so carefully put together get smashed down, “Sam wasn’t so happy about me destroying his work”.

“Oh my gods,” she laughed with him, feeling bad for poor Sam.

“Yeah, he didn’t believe me when I said I dropped it, swore he wasn’t coming with me that next time and everything. It was a whole thing.” Bucky shook his head as his laughter faded into a soft smile.

“Can’t blame him.” She shrugged with a grin.

“He was fine.” Bucky waved his hand in the air, “I honestly only cared that I’d secured myself a chance to come back.” He admitted unapologetically.

“And did you see me when you came back?” She asked, her elbow on the table and her cheek resting on her hand, cake long forgotten.

“Yeah, I had to sneak to the back to see you, but I did. You were even more beautiful that day,” Bucky told her, making her blush under his affectionate gaze, “you had a messy flower crown on top of your head and you were taking laundry down from the clothesline. You were so focused as you tried to pull the clothes down without getting on your tiptoes,” he chuckled, recalling how cute she was as she struggled to reach the peg clips.

“Hey! They hung that clothesline way too high! No one could reach it!” She shook her head.

“Yeah, I’m sure they couldn’t,” Bucky teased, laughing at her defensive reply.

“They couldn’t, I swear! Not just me!”

“I believe you,” Bucky said with a provocative smile.

“You’re annoying.” She pouted, digging her fork in her cake slice.

“Nah, you’re just too little, little human.” Bucky teased again and she couldn’t help her smile.

It was all making sense now as she admired his gorgeous grin: the yearning for Bucky’s touch when he wasn’t there, the longing for his presence that had replaced her previous fear or repulsion, and the way she so desperately looked forward to the weekends so they could hold hands as they walked and talked could only mean one thing.

She was in love. She was in love with Bucky and she didn’t want to run from that feeling.

“I— I think I’m in love with you,” she admitted in a tiny whisper.

A smile lit Bucky’s face up before he gave her forehead a long kiss, trying to convey his adoration for her as he held her close to him, “I know I’m in love with you, little human.” He sighed in her hair.

He couldn’t believe she said it and he couldn’t believe she said it first. He couldn’t believe how far they have come and how beautiful life could be.

But he knew now and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Bucky finally had someone who loved him and cared about him; someone he could trust and surrender his heart to.

She stood on her tiptoes, making him chuckle as she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him so close that he could feel her heartbeat.

“They renounced me a long time ago,” Bucky whispered in her hair, feeling brave enough to open up to her about his past.

Her heart sank at the gut-wrenching piece of information.

“What?” She pulled away in shock, “why?”

Her mind couldn’t wrap itself around the idea of a clan having Bucky and willingly letting him go.

“My mother was a human; wanted to name me James, but she died during my birth, heart condition,” he started, closing his eyes to stop his tears from forming, “they eventually did name me James, but I think I never liked it. My grandma gave me the name Bucky, from my middle name ‘Buchanan’. She was the one who raised me because me and my father weren’t close. He could never forgive me for taking my mother away from him, I guess.” Bucky shrugged, swallowing his emotions.

She listened silently, her own tears brimming. What kind of father does that? Bucky had already lost his mother and instead of being there for him, his father made him lose him too?!

“Before I knew it, I’m a teenager and my father had passed away and my grandma before him… I had no one left and my cousins weren’t about to let the half-orc with the human mother become chief.” Bucky sighed as he recalled the events of his youth.

She stayed in his arms, hands on his chest as she listened closely, her heart breaking at the expression on her orc’s face.

“And when I started ‘working with the humans’, they found the perfect reason to kick me out of the clan for good.” He finished with a sad smile, shaking his head as if to shake the memories away.

“That was when you started fighting for the kingdom?” She asked, softly running the back of her fingers down Bucky’s cheek as a tear rolled down her own.

“Had nowhere else to go.” Bucky shrugged with a teary smile, trying to pull himself together.

“But that was where you met Sam, right?” She reminded with a tender smile, her thumb tracing his stubbly chin.

Bucky nodded with a chuckle, “yeah, used to drive me crazy at first, but he was a good soldier; an even better friend.”

“And then you opened your shop.” She tilted her head, her fingers catching the tips of Bucky’s soft hair by his shoulder.

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes, reminiscing at how things have turned out.

“And you started making beautiful furniture that you needed to deliver to the orphanage, where you saw me.” She grinned fondly, a fingertip tracing the orc’s nose.

“Yes.” Bucky sighed, his love pouring out of his dewy eyes as he enjoyed the light touches.

“And now I’m here with you, in our home,” she brought both palms to Bucky’s cheeks, “and I will never leave you, Bucky,” she told him seriously before getting on her tiptoes to hug him again, “I’m your family and you’re mine.” She whispered into his neck.

“I love you,” Bucky whispered into her shoulder, his arm squeezing her to him as if he wanted to meld himself to her.

“Copycat,” she joked, instantly feeling her orcs chest vibrate with a chuckle, “I love you too, Bucky.”

With her in his arms, hers wrapped around him as tight as she could, Bucky could then understand the meaning of safety, of love and family.

And she finally came to realize that she and Bucky weren’t all that different after all. They had both been abandoned by the ones who were supposed to have their backs before and more than anyone. But they have got each other now. She wasn’t going to let Bucky go and she trusted him not to let her go either.

As she leaned in to give Bucky his goodnight kiss that night, a different thought occupied her mind.

Sitting up against the pillows, she crossed her legs, her heart pounding with anticipation as Bucky looked at her with a quizzical tilt of his head.

She slowly got closer to his face, locking eyes with him to gain more courage, but it only made her more nervous.

She took a deep breath and when she pressed her lips, she pressed them to her orc’s mouth instead of his cheek, ever so tentatively getting a much needed taste of his full lips. They were so soft, so perfect.

She had no idea if she was doing this right, but she didn’t care.

Bucky's eyes widened in disbelief, wondering if he was dreaming.

She pulled away after a short second, scared that she might have crossed a line, “I’m sorry. Do orcs not do that—”

Before she could apologize or question her actions further, Bucky silenced her with a kiss of his own, swiftly bringing her down to lay on her back as he hovered over her, his kisses eager and desperate as he tried his best to watch his tusks.

“I don’t care what orcs do. We’re doing it,” he mumbled against her sweet lips.

Bucky allowed her one loud laugh before devouring her lips again, stealing her heart and breath with another tender, yet deep kiss.

In that very moment, time seemed to stand still for Bucky. All he could feel was the warmth of her cheek against his palm, all he could taste was the sweetness of her lips mingled with the faint flavor of berries, and he never wanted it to end.

As she allowed his tongue to gently explore her mouth, a promise of eternity passed between them in a moan, sealing their bond with a promise of a lifetime of love and devotion.

She has never had a real friendship. Rarely had anything to say. She would rather stay silent if she thought she didn’t have anything to contribute to the conversation. She was always afraid that others might find her boring, and was even more afraid that that may be her truth. So she always hid. She hid from others, from herself and her feelings. She hid from problems and fights. She hid from anything that could get her hurt.

But with Bucky it was different.

She didn’t have to hide anymore, didn’t have to be scared because in Bucky she had everything. She had a true friend, a loyal lover and a great husband.

And as she let herself drown in the feeling of his lips, she couldn’t be more grateful for the gods above for drawing her fate exactly how it was.

It felt so good to belong to Bucky and she could all but want more.

She let her instincts run wild, her body hot with need as she hesitantly slipped her hands under Bucky’s sweater, eager to feel his scarred skin under her fingers.

Bucky pulled away from her lips to look her in the eyes, his breath stuttering at her tender touch, “what are you doing, sweet thing?”

“I’m sorry. Was that too far?” She hurriedly tried to pull her hands out of his clothes, but Bucky was faster as he sat back and held his hands on top of hers, keeping them inside his sweater, right on his ribs.

“I’m your husband,” Bucky reminded with a sweet smile.

“I know— I just— I’ve never—” She struggled with her words as heat rose to her face, “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable… but I think I wanna do this.” She confessed shyly, her indexes caressing up and down his abdomen.

“This this?” Bucky tilted his head suggestively, already feeling his cock jump at the thought alone.

“This this.” She smiled, biting her lip shyly as she gave a nod.

“Little human, you better not be playing right now.” Bucky warned, his eyes growing the slightest bit darker.

“I’m not—”

“Because if I start, I won’t be able to stop myself, sweet thing.”

“Then don’t.”

Her newfound courage took over as she brought Bucky back to her with her hands tangled in his pullover.

Bucky kissed her with fervor, savoring the angelic sounds she was making as his tongue tasted hers.

He carefully ran a large hand up her hip, exploring as his lips trailed down her cheek and to her neck.

He could feel her pulse again and was about to stop, déjà vu from their wedding night attacking him, but then she said his name in the softest, sexiest and neediest tone as she squirmed underneath him, his covered cock fitting just right between her legs.

Bucky could all but put his lips back on her, his tusks grazing the sensitive skin as he nibbled on it.

“Can I see you?” He breathed, his eyes on hers as his fingers found way under the skirt of her dress.

She nodded, her face and neck flushed as she sat up and gave the orc her back.

Bucky wasted no time working the zipper down, revealing the back of her bralette to his hungry eyes.

She twisted herself back, seeking Bucky’s blue orbs for reassurance as she pushed her dress down her shoulders. Her heart pounded in her chest when she saw Bucky literally lick his lips at the sight of her.

It felt like it was the first time Bucky was seeing her naked to both of them.

He saw her hesitate with pushing the dress down further and so with a smile, Bucky pulled his own pullover up and off his head, “I got you.” He promised.

She bit her lower lip, pushing the dress down her thighs.

Bucky pulled the piece of clothing all the way down, throwing it behind his back with his discarded sweater. He kept his calloused palms on her shins, caressing the smooth skin while he watched her hands go behind her back to unhook her bralette.

She let it fall from her body, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths as she watched Bucky’s gaze switch from admiration to sheer desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, gently bringing her on her back, taking the bralette all the way down her arms as he pressed his mouth to hers again.

Bucky’s lips traced down the hot skin of her throat in open-mouthed kisses, moving to her collarbones, “can I touch you, sweet thing?”

“Yes.” She nodded and goosebumps instantly rose on her skin as Bucky’s palms cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing her hardening nipples.

“Bucky,” she moaned, her back involuntarily curving as she pushed herself further into her orc’s touch.

“Oh, you sensitive on here, little human?” Bucky asked, biting back his smirk as his calloused flesh thumb rubbed over her nipple again, “’s my touch making your little nipples hard?”

“Bucky,” she whined at the dirty talk, her hands coming up to cover her hot face in embarrassment.

“Hey.” Bucky gently took her hands away from her face, “don’t hide from me, sweet thing. I love that your body is reacting to me.”

Before she could whine again, her husband was bringing her right hand down and between his legs, pressing her open palm to his hard cock, “this is my body reacting to you, my love.”

She gasped, the feeling foreign to her as she felt how big and hard Bucky was.

“This is what you do to me, little human.” Bucky wrapped her smaller hand around his clothed cock, giving himself a squeeze, making wetness pool in her panties at the sound that left him afterwards.

Knowing that she wasn’t the only one whose body was on fire, made her the tiniest bit more confident and she found herself giving Bucky’s cock another squeeze, making his head drop to her shoulder.

“Oh, fuck, you tryna kill me, sweet thing?” Bucky breathed a chuckle on her neck.

“Did— did I hurt you?” She asked insecurely, wanting to remove her hand and bury herself under the bed.

“Gods, you’re an angel.” Bucky shook his head and she didn’t understand until he said, “you have no idea how much your touch drives me mad, do you?”

She shook her head innocently and Bucky only smiled, moving his mouth to her chest, his tusks softly grazing everywhere his lips went.

“It’s something like this.”

“Ohhhh, Bucky!” She arched her back again as her orc wrapped one of her nipples in his lips, softly suckling at the tender nub, making her hand give a tighter pump to his cock.

She really was sensitive there.

Bucky groaned, moving to her other nipple, the vibration driving her crazy, making her squirm harder as her hand massaged around his cock, sliding up his back to unconsciously wrap in his long hair as she pushed her breast into his mouth.

She could feel herself clenching like crazy down there, her whole body aflame with lust from all the new sensations Bucky was introducing her to.

The way the tip of his tongue flicked against her nipples made her crave more.

Bucky’s kisses trailed down her ribs to her abdomen, worshipping every inch until they settled on top of her pubic bone, dark blue eyes looking up at her for permission to go further.

She nodded, aching for her orc’s touch to provide any kind of relief.

A little nervous about not finding her wet once again, Bucky moved closer to her center.

Bucky let his lips kiss her on top of her underwear first, inhaling the saturated fabric as he pressed a long kiss to her clothed core. He swallowed hard, her scent filling his nostrils and making him dizzy with desire.

She smelled so good.

“Bucky, please,” she pleaded before she could stop herself, desperate for him to do anything to help the throbbing between her legs.

“I got you, sweet thing,” Bucky told her again, quickly pushing the tiny underwear down her legs and getting himself comfortable between her legs.

He took a second to look at her, all naked and all his, writhing from and for his touch and his touch alone.

“Wh— what are you gonna do?” She asked uncertainly, not really getting why Bucky was bringing himself lower between her open thighs, eye to eye with her pussy, the position making her cheeks burn up.

“I’m gonna get a taste, little human. Would you let me? Can I get a taste of you, sweet thing?” Bucky asked as he pressed loving kisses to the delicate flesh of her inner thigh.

“You’re… gonna put your mouth there?” She whispered her question shyly, the thought making her want to close her legs and hide.

Bucky just smiled lovingly at her innocence; his untouched, pure little human, “if you let me.”

“Is it gonna feel good?” She asked curiously.

Bucky nodded, relieved she wasn’t scared of his tusks coming close to where she was the most sensitive, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Y—yes. Okay.” She nodded, swallowing her nervousness as she laid her head back.

Bucky knew what he was doing and she trusted him to take care of her.

Her permission was all Bucky needed to put his mouth on her, pressing a longing kiss to her lower lips, glad to find her soaking wet, making her gasp above him. The feeling of his blunt tusks framing her pussy set her heart racing.

He then locked eyes with her as he let his tongue out, licking a slow, deliberate stripe up from her dripping hole to her pulsing clit before wrapping his full lips around it and she couldn’t help the tiny squeal that escaped her as her head fell back on the pillow, her hips pushing down against him

Bucky smirked on her heat before moaning himself. She tasted so good, better than anything he has ever put his mouth on.

He had fucked humans before and he knew exactly what to do, but she was different. Every breath she released, every moan, was making Bucky wild with desire. He has never cared about making someone feel good as he did in that moment with her thighs around his head.

Her delicate hands flew to her orc’s hair and she tugged hard, losing herself in the feeling of Bucky’s mouth on her pussy as she arched her back and pushed herself closer to his lips. Her orc’s touch was reducing her to a moaning, babbling mess in mere seconds.

Bucky decided to test the waters a little, slipping his tongue inside her hole a few times, tasting her sweetness from the source before bringing his flesh finger between her legs. He gently prodded the tip of his thick finger at her entrance, feeling her tense above him with a gasp.

“It’s okay, sweet thing, I got you. Just relax for me.” He reassured and she tried her best to relax her muscles, allowing Bucky to ease the tip of his finger insider of her.

Fuck, she was so tight; the tightest he has ever felt and it made him rut into the mattress when he thought about how tight she was going to feel around his cock.

Her mouth hung open as Bucky worked the thick digit into her pussy knuckle by knuckle, his lips sucking on her clit.

“I gotta open you up for my cock, little human.” Bucky couldn’t help but tease her, smirking when she whined, getting wetter on his finger.

Bucky started moving his finger in and out of her, his movements slow and deep as he tried to explore as much of her as his finger would go.

Her body was feverish with arousal and her mind was drunk on the feeling of being filled for the first time in her life as sighs and whimpers slipped from her lips without her permission.

It was just one finger pushing in and out of her cunt and she was feeling full already, clenching hard with her juices drenching her thighs and the sheets. She clenched harder around Bucky’s thick finger at the thought of how big his cock would feel and how full it would make her feel, the way he was suckling on her clit making a knot tighten in her lower stomach.

She has never felt anything like this before and was starting to panic at the sensation spreading from her pussy to the rest of her.

“Bucky, I— I feel weird,” she whined, yet ground harder on her orc’s thick finger.

“Are you in pain, little human?” Bucky asked worriedly, taking his touch and mouth away from her at once.

“No, no, no, why would you stop?” She whined louder, her glossy eyes opening and pleading him to give her her pleasure back.

“Oh.” Bucky smirked when he looked from her eyes to her pussy and saw her clamp around nothing, “oh, sweet thing, you were gonna cum?” He asked lowly, his index rubbing up and down her sopping hole without going in.

“I— I don’t know.” She writhed, her hips pushing down as she tried to take Bucky’s finger back inside her, “Bucky, please.” She begged despite not really knowing what she was begging for.

But Bucky knew. He knew and he was going to give it to her.

“I got you,” Bucky said as he pushed his finger back into her pussy with ease, “you think you can take another one, little human?”

“Yes.” She nodded, her answer breathy and desperate as she automatically opened her thighs wider.

“Gods, you’re perfect. So good for me, sweet thing.” Bucky took his index out before coupling it with his middle and pushing both fingers into her, stretching her once more.

She whimpered at the careful intrusion, her hand bringing Bucky’s face to her pulsing clit, making him smirk proudly at how needy she was being for him.

If she thought she felt full before, this made her realize she was wrong.

Bucky’s fingers were so thick, so skilled as they massaged and curled against her upper walls, making her squeal when they nudged a specific spot deep inside her.

“Oh, there you go,” Bucky groaned into her clit, knowing exactly what he was doing to her as he kept curling his fingers inside of her, harshly stimulating the spot that was making her thrash.

He could feel her walls contracting harder around his fingers and he wanted to watch as he brought her to her first orgasm ever.

Keeping his eyes on her blissed out face, Bucky replaced his mouth with the heel of his left hand, circling her clit tightly with his cooler palm.

She wailed at the new stimulation, the pressure from Bucky’s hand strong enough to rub both her clit and her lower abdomen.

Her loud whimpers were making Bucky’s cock leak in his pants as her fingers dug into his shoulders.

“I got you, sweet thing. Give it to me, my love. Shake on your orc’s fingers.”

Bucky’s words did it for her.

She felt the knot in her tummy tighten once more and before she could tell him about it this time, her toes were curling and her body was trembling as her pussy clenched and pulsated around the orc’s beefy digits.

Bucky watched with an open mouth, his lips shimmering with the remnants of her arousal as he almost finished in his pants like a teenager at the mere sight of her losing it on his fingers, “there you go, my love. Good job, sweet thing.”

He slowed down the curling of his fingers but kept his palm circling her clit, wanting to keep her convulsing for as long as he could before she gently tried pushing his touch off.

“Sensitive,” she panted and Bucky decided to have mercy on her.

She laid down on the bed, her tired body limp despite the ongoing throbbing of her pussy, trying to catch her breath.

A smile automatically formed on her lips as she felt Bucky climb up the bed again, mapping his way up her body in wet kisses.

“Hi,” she whispered, opening her eyes when she felt him kissing the corner of her lips.

“Hi.” Bucky smiled, more than satisfied with himself at the state he had managed to bring her to as he kissed her lips, making her taste herself on his tongue, “did you like that, sweet thing?”

She nodded coyly, “can I… make you feel like that too? With my mouth?” Her face was flushed, heat spreading on her skin as if she hadn’t just come on Bucky’s fingers.

The orc could barely hold his orgasm back at the innocence in her voice as she asked if she could suck his cock in the purest way possible. He wasn’t about to cum untouched during his first time with his human. Get it together dammit.

“Later, sweet thing. Right now, I need to be inside your pussy or I think I might die.”

“Bucky,” she whined shyly, covering her face with her hands.

He laughed at her bashfulness before removing the rest of his clothes, “look at me, little human.” Bucky urged gently, his touch soft as his thumb stroked her lower belly.

She removed her hands, eyes instantly landing on his huge cock as it stood proudly, leaking pearls of pre-cum down his length.

“Are you ready, little human?” Bucky asked, wanting to make sure she wanted this.

She remained wordless for a second, taking in Bucky’s cock with an open mouth, wondering if it was going to fit.

“You can say no, sweet thing. We don’t have to do it tonigh—”

“Yes,” she interrupted with a nod, “make me yours, Bucky.”

Bucky bit his lip, stifling a groan, trying to stop himself from sliding home and pounding her into the mattress.

“I thought you were already mine, little human.” He growled lowly, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down her soaking cunt, tapping her clit teasingly just to see her shiver.

“I am. But I wanna be yours like this too.” She mumbled, her eyes mesmerized as she watched Bucky lube his cock up in her wetness, “wanna be yours in every way possible.”

“Can’t say no to that,” Bucky growled before carefully popping the tip of his fat cock inside her aching pussy.

Her breaths were coming out in short pants, cunt already clenching around him and he almost doubled over, his knees weak as pleasure engulfed his senses, “fuck, sweet thing, you’re so tight. Pussy’s tryna kill me.” He moaned, unintentionally making her clench down harder.

She looked like she had already been fucked stupid when Bucky proceeded to push half of his fat cock inside her, letting out tiny mewls and whines as she felt every ridge and vein on her orc’s cock, holding onto his arms for dear life.

“Oh, you feel so good, my love. So wet for me,” Bucky sighed as he kept fucking her with half of his cock, wanting her to get used to the stretch before he could give her all of him, “so tight”.

“Please, Bucky,” she moaned, her heart and pussy simultaneously fluttering at Bucky calling her his love yet again, “I can take it.” She promised, opening her thighs as far as they would go for him.

Bucky could all but snarl hungrily as he leaned forward, burying his face in her soft neck before gradually pushing the rest of his cock inside her tight throbbing cunt inch by inch until he had bottomed out.

He took a second to calm himself down, not wanting to burst so fast. Then he was pulling out just enough for his bulbous tip alone to remain inside of her before sliding back into her cunt, gasping into her neck at the sensation of being totally wrapped up in her snug warmth.

She couldn’t help but cry out at the pleasure as he orc fucked her deeply, reaching places inside of her she never knew existed.

She thought it would take longer for her body to get used to Bucky’s girth, but it was like she was made for him, her pussy effortlessly accepting him every time he pressed back home.

The tip of Bucky’s cock easily found her special spot, ramming into it over and over every time he drove himself back into her heat.

“Oh, Bucky!” She squealed, her back already bowing once more as her vision got blurrier and Bucky knew he wasn’t going to last much longer when her nails dug into his skin again.

His breath was labored when he raised his head, wanting a taste of her lips as his thrusts became faster, more desperate. He swallowed her loud moans, leaving the only sound in the empty cottage to be the sound of skin slapping against skin as he fucked her faster.

“Bucky, it’s gonna happen again,” she whined and Bucky brought his hand down to her clit at once, wanting to see and feel her crumble on his cock.

“Yeah? You gonna cum on my fat cock, little human?”

She nodded frantically, her legs wrapping around Bucky’s waist.

“Cum for me, sweet thing. Let me feel your tight little pussy cum on my cock.”

Bucky’s dirty whispers in her ear, his deep thrusts and his frantic rubbing on her sensitive clit were making her lose control; making her lightheaded with desire as she let herself go again, full body tensing before shaking in her orc’s arms.

Bucky could no longer hold back, his guttural growl making her clench hard. He gave a few more thrusts before pushing his cock as deep as it would go inside her quivering pussy, keeping his assault on her clit going to keep her clenching around him. He felt his cock twitch as he emptied his balls inside her. His cock wouldn’t stop throbbing as he filled his little human up with his hot cum.

Before any of them could comprehend it, she was cumming again just at the feeling of Bucky cumming inside of her, making him groan as her walls squeezed his cock, milking him for all that he was worth.

He let himself collapse on top of her for just a minute before feeling the need to pull out because she wouldn’t stop pulsating and shuddering around his sensitive cock.

Bucky didn’t think he had ever cum so hard in his entire life.

A smile spread on his lips as he flipped on his side, watching her chest rise and fall with her slowing breaths.

He trailed a finger up her still slightly trembling thigh, making her open her tired eyes to look at him.

She gave him a sweet smile, biting her lip as she squirmed, timidly closing her thighs and Bucky could see the exact moment she realized that his cum was leaking out of her abused hole, smirking at how bashful she got straightaway.

“Are you okay, little human?” Bucky asked, his finger tracing up her abdomen, around the curve of her breast and up under her chin, keeping her gaze on his.

She nodded, her expression cock-drunk despite the shyness, “when— when can we do that again?”

Her question pulled an astonished laugh out of Bucky as he wrapped a hair strand around his finger, “any time you want, my love.” He brought her forehead to his lips, kissing her adoringly.

Gods, he was so in love that his heart felt like it would burst.

She smiled bigger, satisfied with the answer as she moved closer, settling on her orc’s broad chest and snuggling close to his warmth, “I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, sweet thing.” Bucky gave her lips a deep kiss.

“So orcs do do that.” She mumbled with a sleepy smile against his lips, making him laugh into her mouth.

She giggled a little before pushing her nose further into Bucky’s neck, gracefully falling asleep to his scent.

As she laid in his arms, vulnerable and exposed, Bucky felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him as he pulled the heavy blanket up her naked form, holding her closer to him.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her hairline, vowing to always be there for her. She was his, and he was hers, destined together through a love that defied all odds.

And as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, Bucky knew that he had found his home, his safe haven, in the embrace of this one girl who had so easily stolen his heart.

Part VI

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buckyalpine · 2 years

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I was thinking about pregnant reader and bucky and I saw you wrote something already😂😅

I saw few posts where everyone finds out reader is pregnant before bucky and it honestly makes me angry 😒 it just irritates me. It's always they take one look at the reader and they all know. I just want at least once that bucky finds out first. Like if yn and Bucky were laying down and she asked bucky for some treats that she hid under the bed that she was craving (ofc bucky was on top of her😉) so he gets them and he starts thinking and goes to ask her like what she was craving, her boobs got bigger and what else happens... so in a few days while yn was sleeping he hears a heartbeat and so he gets a little but scared but no running! He starts talking to it and one day while they were cooking together, he asked yn what she thinks about getting married, moving in together babies etc. Maybe she has irregular period so she doesnt even notices (I usually skip few months even a year so ik I wouldn't notice if I got preggo 😂) so he tells her that she is pregnant and he can hear the heart beat so it goes to the tears and blah happy stuff. And when it gets to the dinner with avengers few weeks later she refuses cocktails and vine and when someone asks she is like well I AM pregnant and takes off her jacket just to see a small bump in a tight dress.

Prettyyyyy please with a cherry on top with whipped cream and a side dish to make this happen 🥺🙏🙏 I can even beg on my knees for this if you want

Babes, you do not have to beg when you come up with asks that speak to my weaknesses. Fuck, I love this so much, my whole heart YES.

18+ Minors dni "Buck"

"Bucckyyyyyy"

"Buchanan!"

Bucky snorted, pulling away from where he was kissing your neck, your pouty face looking back at him.

"Can you pleeease get the chocolate covered pretzels I hid under the bed" You smiled sheepishly. It wasn't a secret you had a little stash of snacks hidden in various parts of the room. Bucky discovered that when he went to grab his Henley from the closet and found a bag of m&ms tucked away between his clothes.

"Really baby? Right now?" He playfully rolled his eyes, ignoring how hard he was, reaching over and pulling the bag out, watching your face light up, giving him grabby hands.

"Can't help it, I've been craving sweet and salty stuff all day"

"I'll give you something sweet and salty" Bucky wiggled his eyebrows while you smacked his arm, grabbing a pretzel and moaning at the taste.

"Perv"

"Never thought I'd have competition with a pretzel"

"Chocolate covered pretzel" You corrected, your eyes nearly rolling back, practically whining a the way the chocolate melted. He looked at you quizzically, he'd seen you have cravings before but never this strongly. He wasn't at all jealous a stupid sweet and salty snack craving had cut into his spicy cuddle time with you.

"What else have you been craving baby?"

You thought for a moment, naming a foot long list of colorful combinations and a disturbing amount of chocolate. Some of the foods you didn't even usually like...

You hummed contently after satisfying your craving, giving your attention back to Bucky. He gave you a devilish smirk, pinning you down on the bed, his boner against your panties.

"I'll give you something to actually moan about baby"

3 orgasms later

You snored softly cuddled against Bucky's body, his arm wrapping tightly around you. He pulled you closer to him, his hand snaking up to cup your boob, his favorite way to fall asleep. They felt...fuller. Bucky gave your breast a soft squish, careful not to wake you. He had your boobs in his hands, his mouth, face face at least twice a day, they were definitely a little fuller. In fact, they’d felt a little fuller for quite some time. Hm.

Over the next two weeks your cravings hadn’t ceased. He’d quietly restocked all your little stashes without telling you, noticing tiny changes in your regular routines. You slept a little more. You were a little more clingy (which he loved, carrying his little koala everywhere). You didn’t seem to notice anything, nor did anyone else but Bucky did. And he had an idea of what it could be.

You were fast asleep, curled up in bed in nothing but one of Bucky’s t-shirts, while he gazed down at your tummy. It had to be it, right? He carefully shuffled down, gently lifting your shirt, glancing up at you to make sure you were still asleep.

When he concentrated, Bucky was able to hyper focus on his sense of hearing, courtesy of the serum and all his assassin training. These were one of the few moments he was thankful for it. He laid his head on your belly, hearing the teensiest faint heart beat that he’d never heard before. He wasn’t a doctor but it all added up. Your cravings. The ever so slight softness of your body. How your boobs were fuller. Bucky’s heart and mind raced at the same time. Would he be a good father? Would his baby love him? He’d dreamt of this moment before but now it was actually happening.

"I know your in there" He whispers, narrowing his eyes at your belly. “Mommy might not even know yet, but I do” Bucky’s eyes flick up to you when you stir slightly, but remain asleep. “We’ll talk later, mama needs her rest”

Bucky carefully pressed a soft kiss to your belly before coming up and holding you again, his heart fluttering because even though he was a little scared, this was everything he ever wanted.

It became a regular occurrence. Bucky always made sure you were fast asleep before laying his head on your tummy, quietly talking to the little peanut in your belly.

“Do you care to explain why you make mommy crave ice cream at 3AM” Bucky whispered, rubbing his tired eyes after getting you some Ben and Jerry’s in the middle of the night. You’d fallen asleep immediately after, a content smile on your face.

A number of conversations had taken place that month.

“Mama doesn’t need chocolate covered oreos”

“Do you have daddy’s super hearing? I hope so, other wise I’m talking to myself”

“I understand the ice cream, but the potato chip sandwich was a little weird today, don’t you think?”

“You’re going to be chunky, mommy going to keep you more than well fed”

The entire month, Bucky couldn’t peel his eyes off you, your boobs were a little more plump and they were only going to get bigger. His cock got hard thinking about how gorgeous you’d look, pretty full breasts, your little one drinking from you....

Him drinking from you.

“She’ll keep me well fed too”

*****

“Y/n?” Bucky’s arms wrapped around your tummy, his head resting on your shoulder while you stirred some pasta, “What do you think about getting married?”

“Hmm, I’d say if someone asked me” You giggled, pecking a kiss to Bucky’s nose, not noticing him nervously shuffling behind you, completely abandoning the garlic bread he was making.

“Would you want to move in with me? Permanently?”

“I already basically live with you Bucky, but it’d make it easier if I moved all my stuff over. Might as well”

“W-what about having babies?”

“I’ve always wanted to have two” You smiled to yourself, thinking about your dream family with little Bucky’s running around.

“With me?” He whispered, a part of him worried you wouldn’t want that with him, given his past. You put the spoon down, turning to look at him while he bit his lip nervously. Your hand cradled his face, tracing over his scruffy beard.

“Of course with you Bucky, why would you doubt that?”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded, looking at Bucky curiously while his heart raced, he’d never asked you these questions before but you figured he should have already known the answer would have been yes.

“Why are you asking me all this baby?”

“Because...” Bucky hesitated, while you looked up at him, urging for him to continue. “You’re pregnant baby”

“H-how do you know” You whispered, your heart racing, melting into Bucky’s arms while he held you close to him. You didn’t have your period for a while but you figured it was just coming later than usual.

“I can hear the babies heart beat. When its really quiet, usually when you’re asleep”

Your breath hitched in your throat while Bucky kneeled in front of you, kissing your tummy, tears streaming down both your faces.

“I’m pregnant?”

Bucky nodded, standing again so he could cradling your body close to his, kissing you all over. You wrapped your arms tightly around him, your heart full.

“You’re pregnant angel, my sweet baby”

A few weeks later

“C’mon, are you sure you don’t want any?” Nat smirked, taking a sip from her wine. You’d just arrived after your date with Bucky, the both of you joining the team for dinner afterwards. You shook your head, while Bucky smiled, kissing your temple.

“I can make you a cocktail” Tony suggested, but you shook your head again.

“Why not” Wanda pouted but you giggled, bouncing on your feet, clinging onto Bucky’s hand. The team eyed you both curiously while you took of your jacket, a series of screams and cries erupting seeing your little baby bump under your dress.

“Cause I’m pregnant”

Bucky grinned, his hands cradling your tiny bump while everyone enveloped you both in a giant hug.

“I call God father!”

5K notes · View notes

desperate-gay · 8 months

Note

can i request you write a leah fic based on the song constellations by jade lemac

Constellations

Leah Williamson x fem!reader

SMUT 18+

Leah Williamson has a reputation for sleeping around. People use more harsh terms to describe her, but that feels wrong since you know her. Well, you don’t know her; you play alongside her for the England national team and Arsenal. Once in a while, you both have a conversation, but nothing too deep.

Although, recently, the blonde has been approaching you more and more. Whether it was on the pitch during training, in the locker room, or even at team get-togethers.

You’d think she’d want to get to know more about you before flirting with you constantly, but hey, she’s got that reputation for a reason. She sees what she wants, and she goes for what she wants, and most of the time, she gets what she wants.

Now, of course, you find Leah attractive; anyone with eyes should. That doesn’t mean you’re just going to bend over for her. You never liked the idea of having one-night stands with one of your teammates and going back to training the next day like nothing happened. You also never liked the idea of sleeping around with anyone. It’s exhausting to invite someone into your bed just so they can fuck you and leave the same night.

You have always wanted a meaningful, loving relationship. Sure, you had your fair share in the past, but those obviously all ended up in the dump. None of which made you feel exhilarated. And the fact that the player on the team now wants to get into your pants is quite annoying.

Keira and Lucy always warn Leah to stay away from you. You’re the sunshine of the group that never fails to make someone smile. They didn’t want her to take that spark away from you. Alessia and Ella always glare at the defender’s attempts to flirt with you. You three are considered the gigglers of the lionesses. You guys are usually never seen without one another unless you are with your favorite person in the whole world, Esme Morgan.

If you aren’t with Tooney or Lessi, you are most definitely with the smiley gal. The two of you have the brightest smiles and most infectious laughs ever. Both are the kindest beings anyone could meet on this earth, plus, to mention, you two basically grew up together.

So when Esme found out what was happening, her usual chippy personality turned bitter. She knows Leah’s intentions, and she doesn’t want that anywhere near you. People may call her particularly protective over you, but she just doesn’t want to see you hurt is all.

When you noticed her attitude switch whenever the flirtatious blonde approached you, you assured her there was nothing to worry about.

—

Practice has just ended, so everyone is getting changed in the locker room. You are pulling your shirt over your head when you hear someone approaching you.

“You looked quite fit out there, darling.”

You whip around and see the one person who has enough confidence to say something like that with no hesitation.

“Thank you.” You say, looking down bashfully, never really knowing how to take compliments. The taller girl notices the red that starts to appear at the tip of your ears and smirks to herself.

She places her right hand on your hip before leaning in close to your ear. “You always look fit, my dear.” She whispers before moving your body to the side to walk past you. Your eyes follow her path with your mouth slightly open.

Ella, Alessia, Lucy, and Esme all watch the interaction happen with clenched jaws and piercing eyes. Keira doesn’t have the heart to be angry at her best friend, but she does sigh and look down to continue packing her kit. Leah can feel multiple eyes trailing her, but she doesn’t let it bother her. Overall, it’s your choice what happens between you two, not theirs.

Once you’re done with changing, Esme offers you a ride home so she can hang out and steal your ice cream. You, of course, accept her offer, wanting to spend more time with your best friend. When you get into her car, you plug in your phone to the aux cord and play your guy’s playlist in the background.

“Besides stealing all of my food, what do you plan on doing when we get to my home?”

She hums as a sign she’s trying to think of an answer. “I’m not sure yet; I haven’t gotten that far.” You scoff at her teasing smile and quickly return it.

As you pull into the parking space in front of your loft, you notice a man standing on concrete with a bouquet of multiple different flowers, looking confused. You and Esme step out of the car, and you make your way towards the stranger.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you need help with anything?” The young man gives a clumsy smile and nods his head.

“You don’t by chance know a ughh, Y/n Y/l/n around here, do you?”

"Umm, that, ironically, would be me.” Your face scrunches up in confusion, while Esme’s does the same. The man gently hands you the flowers, saying someone sent them to you.

“You just have to sign here, please, to let the company know you’ve received your flowers in perfect condition.” He exaggerates as you fake solute, asking the blonde next to you to hold the flowers. You sign the paper and say a quick goodbye before moving up a few steps to your front door to unlock it.

“Who in the world sent flowers to you?” She teases, taking her shoes off and handing you the flowers. You place your nose right over the flowers to smell them.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” All you do is shrug your shoulders before moving around to look for a vase. You set the flowers in the center of the table and go to join Esme on the sofa. She grabs the remote and puts on Modern Family. You look over and notice a sour expression on her face. Reaching over, you poke her cheek to make her look over at you. “What’s up, Ez?”

“I bet I know who sent the flowers.” She grumbles with her arms crossed, still looking at the television. After thinking about it briefly, you finally understand who she’s referring to. She wouldn’t have that familiar scowl for just anybody.

“Hey, even if it was her, there’s no need to worry about anything. She sleeps around, and that’s something I don’t like, remember?” She turns her head towards you and has a semi-sad expression.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt. I see the way you blush around her.” Her voice is soft, along with her facial features. You reach over and grab her hand to squeeze it.

“I know you don’t, and I love that about you. Yes, I find Leah attractive, but she doesn’t want anything serious, and I’m not putting myself in that situation.” Esme nods in understanding, and you both turn your attention back to the show in comfortable silence.

—

“Did you see the gift I sent you?”

You’re on the pitch stretching before training starts when Leah comes over to you. You sigh and stand up to turn towards her. "Yes, I did; they were beautiful, but I’m still trying to figure out why I got them.”

“Because a beautiful girl deserves beautiful things.” She smiles without breaking eye contact. You playfully roll your eyes at her and bend down to touch your toes.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

It’s silent for a minute before the taller girl blurts, “Go on a date with me tonight.”

You quickly straighten your posture and give her all your attention. Your eyebrows furrowed at the demand. “Pardon?”

“Let me take you out tonight. I know just the place.” She notices your hesitation, so she places a hand on your waist. “C’mon, dinner and maybe some sex?”

You scoff at her forward statement and start to walk away. “No.”

“Fine, just sex.” She follows after you. No one is near you two, so no one can hear what’s happening. You stop and turn around.

“How about just dinner?”

“Ehhhh.”

“Then no.”

You move to continue to walk away before her hand reaches out to grip your wrist. “Okay, okay. Just dinner.”

—

It turns out you and Leah only live about two blocks from one another, so when it’s time to pick you up, she decides to walk over. The place she has made reservations for is right across the street from your place. Leah let you know beforehand that the place you’ll be eating at isn’t too fancy, so just dress casually.

You’re finishing up the last minor touches on your makeup when you hear a knock at your door. Quickly, you grab your purse, phone, and keys and rush to open the door. Leah looks over, smiling, and offers you her hand to take once you lock the door. She’s wearing a white dress shirt along with tan baggy jeans, while you wear black leggings with a light blue tank top.

The date overall goes great. When you get seated, Leah being the gentlewoman she is, pulls out your seat for you and pushes you in. You both get to know each other better and laugh at the random stories you tell each other.

Your arm is hooked on Leah’s as you both laugh and walk towards your home. You stop right before you reach your stairs and look at her with a smile. “I had a lot of fun tonight, thank you.” The keys dangle in your hand, and then Leah reaches and steals them for you.

“Let me help you with your flowers.” She smiles smugly, keeping the keys behind her shoulder.

“No, we just met tonight.”

“We have known each other for years. We play for the same teams.” Your faces are close together as you giggle.

“We might play together, but that doesn’t mean we know each other. Tonight was our first step in actually getting to know one another.”

“C’mon.” She leans even closer, trying to tempt you. Your eyes wander at her face before you pull back slightly.

“You can’t come up.” You say with all the willpower you have left. She sure knows how to get a girl to swoon. “You have to woo me first.”

You dramatically flip your hair, making the taller girl laugh at your antics. Her laughter dies down, and she places her hand on the small of your back to pull you closer. “I can definitely woo you if you let me up.”

You laugh again and press your hands to her chest. “I don’t want this to be a one-night thing.” You whisper while looking her in the eyes. Pecking her cheek, you take quick action to grab your keys and run up the stairs. Once you unlock your door, you turn your attention to the starstruck girl. “Goodnight, Leah.”

—

Surprisingly, Leah asks you on a second date the day after. Esme doesn’t like the sound of it, but she can’t control what you do, so she just accepts it.

Once again, Leah picks you up from your house, and you both walk to the unknown destination of your date. She said it’s about a 20-minute walk before getting you. On arrival, you see a bright neon sign saying arcade.

“You didn’t.” You excitedly say and smile at the blonde.

“Are you ready to get your butt beat?”

Through the date, you both challenge each other in multiple games like air hockey, racing games, etc. So when it comes down to your tiebreaker, Leah challenges you in one last game of basketball. You both put the tokens in and press the button to play against each other and once the buzzer tells you to go, you both start making shots left and right. Leah looks over and grabs one of your basketballs to palm it and hold it in the air.

“Hey! That’s cheating!” You look at the score and see she has a few more points than you. The taller girl smirks as you try to reach for the ball that's in her hand. With her other free hand, she pushes against your back to pull you closer to her, and she leans down, pressing her lips against yours. You’re shocked at the quick action, but you stop trying for the ball that’s above your head and wrap your arms around her neck.

You pull away when the whistle signals the game is done. Both of your guy’s eyes remain on the other’s lips, still a little hazed from the kiss.

“I win.” She whispers, making you wonder if she's talking about the game or you.

—

The next date is a simple stroll downtown, visiting all the little stores. Your hands stay interlocked while walking up and down the streets.

In one of the buildings you go into, you see a photo booth and beg Leah to go with you. After a few seconds of you pleading, she finally says yes and lets you drag her to the curtain-covered box. The first photo you take is just one of you guys smiling at the camera. The second one is both of you sticking your tongues out and crossing your eyes. The third is a little blurry because of the two of you laughing and moving to hunch over. Then the fourth and final photo contains both of you gazing at each other with loving looks in your eyes. Soon after the last photo is taken, you both lean in for a feverish kiss.

You grab the photo strip from the outside of the booth and smile at the photos. You start to complain that there’s only one strip, but she insists you take it, knowing you want it the most.

After an hour or two more of exploring the town, she walks you up your stairs to your front door. Your hands softly grab the back of her neck and pull her in for a sweet kiss. When you pull away, she chases after your lips with a whine, causing you to giggle. You place one final peck on her lips and whisper, “Goodnight, Leah.”

—

Looking in the mirror, you put on your earrings and step back to look at your dress. It’s a scarlet red dress that hugs your body just right. The back of it cuts low to the lower part of your back, and the front shows the perfect amount of cleavage. The necklace that hangs from your neck fits perfectly with it. Smoothing out the fabric, you hear the familiar rhythm of the knock on your door.

Leah stands there in all her glory in a gray, sleeveless pantsuit. The outfit shows off her toned arms and collarbones perfectly. You let out a breath you don’t know you’re holding, and take her awaiting hand. She presses a kiss to your fingertips and says, “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

You blush at the name and also compliment her back. She walks you towards an unfamiliar car and opens the passenger door for you.

“I figured we should drive this time. I’m sure it won’t be comfortable walking in those shoes.” She points at your short heels. It makes you realize that for all of your dates, you always walked to your destination. You smile at her consideration for your comfort and get in the car. While she drives, she places her hand on your knee and rubs her thumb up and down.

When she pulls up to the fancy restaurant, she rushes to your side of the car and opens the door for you, holding her other hand out for you to grab to help you get out. Walking in, you hear soft orchestral music playing through the building, along with people’s conversations merging and the echoing of silverware clinking together. It wasn’t loud; it was quite relaxing. Leah and you approach the podium with a girl standing behind it with a smile on her face. Leah’s hand stays at the small of your back to guide you and also just to feel you.

“Hello, what can I help you with tonight?” The host asks in a sweet tone.

“Hi, I made a reservation.”

“Sure! Under what name would that be?” The girl taps on the touch screen in front of her to check for the name.

“Leah Williamson.” The blonde nods softly at the host.

“Great! Now if you’d like to follow me, I’ll show you to your seats.” Leah smiles and keeps her hand on your back as you follow the girl. She pulls out your chair for you, just like she did on your first date. “The waiter will be here to take your orders shortly.” The host smiles at the two of you and makes her way back to the front.

You both ordered your desired dishes along with some dessert to share. You’re both laughing when a random girl comes over and places her hand on Leah’s shoulder, making you frown at the action. The blonde turns over and sees a semi-familiar face.

“Hey Leah, I haven’t seen you since that crazy night at the club.” The random girl continues to rub one of her hands up and down Leah’s shoulder as if you weren’t there. Leah just politely smiles and greets her. The girl tries to continue a conversation when you pick up two of your empty dishes and hand them to her.

“Thank you so much; the food was amazing.” Leah turns her head at you with a smile as the random girl gives you a strange look, but walks away with the dishes anyway. You grab your glass of wine and slowly sip it while staring at the walking figure, but you’re interrupted by the laughter coming from across the table.

“What was that?” She chuckles, and you give her a knowing look. She shakes her head with a soft smile displayed on her lips.

—

Once Leah pulls up to the sidewalk of your home, she walks you up to your door and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s not very long, but she backs away and places a kiss on your knuckles. The blonde moves down one stair and turns to walk away, but gets stopped by your hand continuing to grip hers. Her eyes meet yours as you nod your head towards the house.

“Why don’t you come in for a drink? Their wine wasn’t all that good.” Leah nods her head and smiles while you drag her inside.

You both were already tipsy from the restaurant, so adding more alcohol to your systems is like adding fuel to a fire. Hands are roaming each other’s bodies whenever you can, and you both feel just as fuzzy-headed. Music plays on your surround system around the house while both of you find comfortable positions across from each other on the couch, and Leah leans over and brushes a string of hair behind your ear.

“You look absolutely stunnin’ right now. Cheeks all rosy, hair a little messy. So beautiful.” She whispers toward the end because she’s too busy leaning in. Her lips lightly brush against yours, allowing you to pull away if needed. You maneuver yourself forward, pressing your lips together with more force, which makes the blonde smile slightly. Hands fall to your waist and start to pull you in even closer.

“You’re really good at that.” You breathlessly whisper, keeping your hands on her shoulders as she keeps hers on your hips. Your eyes flutter close when the defender moves her nose to touch yours, teasing her lips at the side of your mouth.

“I know I am.” That cocky personality comes back stronger than ever, so before you can scold her, she slams her lips back on yours and glides her tongue into your mouth, causing you to gasp, which allows her to push her tongue even further. She bites down on your bottom lip and pulls it, tugging it toward her before letting it go with a pop. You kiss down her jawline, eventually even further to her neck. Her hands find a place on your ass and guide you to start rocking your hips a little, encouraging you to keep sucking at her sweet spot.

She abruptly stands up with her hands remaining in their initial place, holding you up with her with your legs wrapped around her waist. “Where’s your bedroom?” She asks, breath ghosting of your face.

“Down the hall, last door on the right.”

You attach your lips back to hers as she blindly makes her way to your bedroom, trying not to crash into anything. Once she steps foot into the room, her foot kicks your door closed, and she pins you against it. The music can still be heard from the speakers, making the mood even hotter. The taste of wine can still be found in both of your mouths as you make out against the wooden door.

“How are you so good-looking all the time?” Leah mutters, moving over to your bed and placing you on the soft sheets.

“How are you so good-looking all the time?” You counter back, sitting up so you're face-to-face with the other girl. Her finger slips under one of the straps of your dress, slowly pulling it down while peppering kisses down your shoulder. She repeats the action on the opposite side and drags your dress down your body, still trailing kisses along with it. Once it’s off, she throws it somewhere on the floor and takes quick action to unclip your strapless bra. “It’s unfair that you’re still dressed and I’m not.”

“Well, you’re the one who’s about to get fucked into this mattress.” She rasps, plunging her lips to your neck to start sucking and biting at the flesh. Your hips buck into hers when she finds the perfect spot and nibbles on it. Her hands make work of your breasts, making you jump at the cold feeling of her rings on your warmed-up skin.

Finally, her fingers make it to the waistband of your pants, and she pulls them down as her lips kiss right above the fabric as it’s getting dragged away. Your breath hitches in anticipation as she flings the fabric to meet your dress on the floor.

“Let me take this off, at least.” Your fingers fiddle with the buttons on her top and begin to undo them. Her eyes gaze at yours as you look up at her.

“You look so good under me, baby.” Her voice lowers almost to the point where you can’t hear her. She shrugs off her top and steps out of her pants, so she is only in her underwear. The palms of her hands meet the inner of your thighs, spreading them so she can get a better look. “You’re soaking wet. Did I do this to you?”

You nod your head with a whine, wanting the blonde to do something to relieve your needs.

“Words, doll.”

“Yes, yes, you did this to me, and I need you to do something about it. Please.”

She chuckles at your desperation and kisses your stomach, then your thighs, and finally the place you need her the most. Her tongue draws a line up your slit before sucking on your clit. Your hips buck subconsciously, but Leah puts an end to it when her hands reach your waist and force you down onto the bed. You bite your lip so you don’t make a sound. This makes the blonde stop and raise her head.

“Don’t bite your lip. I want to hear exactly how I make you feel.” She states seductively, returning to her position, lapping up your arousal, and sucking on your bud. The sound of your moans bouncing off the walls, along with music from the living room, sparks the girl up more. Your hand digs into her hair, and your hips start to rock against her face when she moves faster, allowing the buildup in the pit of your stomach to get bigger. Your moans become more frequent and a little louder, showing Leah that you’re close. She pulls away for a split second to whisper, “Cum for me, doll.”

Your back arches further and further off the bed the closer you get; eventually, the coil snaps, making your body shutter and muscles tense, allowing your body to return to its first resting position. Leah’s tongue slowly continues to place soft licks, helping you get all the way through your orgasm. Your hand makes its way to her cheek and urges her to move up by you. Her chin glistens in your arousal, and she drags her thumb over it to wipe it off, then places her thumb in her mouth.

“You taste so sweet.” Your arms wrap around her neck to pull her down and kiss her. As her tongue makes its way into your mouth, you can taste the mixture of alcohol and you.

Right away, her fingertips drag down your stomach and then down to your heat. Testing the waters, she rubs her fingers over your clit which causes your legs to twitch since you’re still a little sensitive.

“Are you going to continue being my good girl?”

“Yes.”

Her smirk widens at your obedience, and as a reward, her fingers dip into your dripping hole, making you gasp at the sensation. Without warning, she plunges two digits into you, chuckling at your whimpers and moans. Her lips make their way back to yours, swallowing all of your little noises.

After a minute or two, her fingers brush against your g-spot and her lips start sucking on your pulse point, leaving a hickey. Your moans grow louder at the repeating strokes that hit your spot perfectly. Compared to your orgasm, this one feels way more intense.

“I can feel you tighten around my fingers, darling. You’re already gonna cum again?”

This time you can’t respond; you’re too breathless, and the whines spilling out of your mouth constantly don’t give you any time to answer her. Your vision becomes spotty, and you feel wetness covering the insides of your thighs. Your orgasm crashes over you but lasts longer than anyone you’ve ever had.

Without your knowledge, Leah pulls away and looks at you with her jaw hanging open. When you finally come down from your high, you meet her gaze with a questioning look. A smug smile takes over her features, which makes you even more confused.

“You soaked the sheets and my arm, doll.”

Your eyes trail down, and you see a big wet patch on the mattress and the blonde's arm soaked. Feeling embarrassed, you cover your face with your hands and fall back against the pillows with a groan. Leah wipes her arm against the sheet you will definitely be washing later.

Leah lays beside you and grabs your wrists to move them from your face. She leans over and pecks your forehead, your chin, both of your cheeks, your nose, and then finally, your lips. Her eyes light up when she sees you smile at her gesture. You’re both lying together for a few minutes before Leah stands up and grabs her shirt.

“What are you doing?” You sit up with your arms holding you.

“Uhh, I’ve got a couple of errands to run in the morning, so I’ve gotta get home.” Her fingers work at one of the buttons of her shirt, and she keeps her head down.

You sigh before saying, “I know you have a reputation for sleeping around, and I know it’s a mess, but you don’t need to hide. You can let me in. So you can either get into bed at the count of three or you can walk out that door and never talk to me again.”

Her fingers stop buttoning up her shirt, and she finally looks at you.

“Three.”

Still in the same spot.

“Two.”

Only moves one step forward.

“One.” You pull your comforter down, patting the spot she was previously in. She quickly takes her top off and lays down next to you. You turn to your side so Leah can wrap her arms around you. Her nose nuzzles into your neck, and she hears you mumble, “I knew you had a soft side.”

The taller girl realizes she enjoys having a body next to her, especially one she’s grown to really like, but then it hits her. She’s never done this. This isn’t who she is. Multiple thoughts race through her head while you sleep soundly right next to her. She slowly removes her arms, making sure you don’t stir, which, luckily for her, you don’t. Quickly, she stands up, gets dressed, and rushes out the door.

—

The sun peeks through the curtains, waking you up. You smile and turn around, only to be met with empty sheets. Sitting up, you look on the ground and see all of Leah’s clothes missing.

The feeling of embarrassment floods your veins as you pull your blanket up to cover your chest. You feel stupid that you actually believed Leah would fall for you. You feel used, as if she just took you on those dates just to have sex with you. And you feel ashamed. Ashamed, you didn’t listen to any of the warnings thrown your way by your best friends.

Tears begin to trail down your cheeks before you even realize it. I guess you’re just not lovable for the Leah Williamson.

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson smut #woso x reader #woso smut #leah williamson #woso #lgbtq

976 notes · View notes

apollyonsdarksecrets · 1 year

Text

Knight in Cowboy boots

Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Summary: emotions and buried feelings are reviled when Joel protects you from a drunk ex boyfriend

Warnings: SMUT (Minors DNI 18+ ONLY), Friends to lovers, pre-outbreak, alcohol, fighting, swearing, blood, fingering, p in v (unprotected), cream pie, pet names, maybe one Y/n I tried not to use any because I know some people don’t like it.

Word count: It’s long boo, lmao.

A/N: Y’all tumblr has some kind of hold on me because I read one Pedro Pascal fic and now I want him to pin me to the bed and have me call him daddy 😭 #hornyonmain if you like this check out my other stories for more spicy fun 🥰

Joel Miller Master List

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I don’t know Sally, I just… how did I not see it? Everything was great, at least I truly thought it was…” You sigh, slumping back further into your friends couch, swirling the wine in your glass.

“I knew there was something wrong with him! He always seemed so sleazy.” Sally scoffs, crossing a long leg over the other, shaking her dirty blond hair.

“Your husband is the one that set me up with Michael.” You retort, propping your chin on your hand with a sigh, you stare out the window, the party in the house was at its peak, people from around the neighborhood mingling, laughing, and sharing a good time as you and your life long best friend discuss your most recent disaster at dating.

“I never said he was a smart man.” You snort, shaking your head when movement outside catches your attention. Your eyes widen slightly, spine straightening as you catch sight of your older neighbor walking towards the house. His hands are shoved into his pockets, head tilted down slightly as he walks. He only peaks up when he reaches the walk way, face illuminated in the moonlight.

Joel Miller. The man you’ve not so secretly pinned for since moving to this neighborhood two years ago.

Your head whips around to Sally, “You didn’t tell me Joel was coming!” You gape at your friend who just shrugs a thin shoulder, taking a sip of her drink with a mischievous smirk tugging at her lips.

“I didn’t?”

Of course Joel would be invited, he’s known Sally and Tim since they moved here and had become fast friends with the couple. You begin to fidget with your outfit, regretting wearing something so basic as you tug your top down slightly, displaying more of your assets. Sally snorts beside you. “To much?”

Before she can answer her husbands loud laugh fills the air followed by the clinking of beer bottles and other guests raised voices in greetings. You turn just as the two men walk through the living room’s archway and smile brightly when Joel’s chocolate eyes land on yours. “Hey there.”

“Hey there yourself, haven’t seen you around in a hot minute darlin’.” His draw makes something inside you tick, cheeks tinting pink as the two men sit in the arm chairs opposite of you and Sally.

“You know me, hard work no play.” Joel laughs at that, tilting his beer to his lips and you force your gaze to your glass, trying and failing to not look like you were checking him out as he stretches his long denim clad legs out in front of him.

“How’s Sarah?” Sally asks, giving you time to collect yourself, the sight of the man almost always turning you into a fumbling school girl.

“She’s good, over at a friends house right now.”

“Oh so it’s just you tonight?”

“Just me.” Joel doesn’t look to Sally when he answers, eyes trained on your flushed face drinking you in.

You all spend the next hour talking about work, life, family, all the minor things in between. It’s great, you’ve missed your friends, work prioritizing most of your free time more often than not, that you never have time for simple things like this.

“I’m going to pour myself another glass, does anyone need anything?” You ask as you stand, a simultaneous no resonates from the group, Joel smiling at you with a tilt to his head that makes your knees weak.

You find the kitchen deserted, everyone either out back enjoying the table top fire or have already left for the evening. You’re humming a tune to yourself, picking through the numerous bottles for something that looks good when an arm snakes around your waist.

Nearly jumping out of your skin you push the offending appendage away and spin around, coming face to face with your now ex-boyfriend Michael.

He definitely wasn’t invited.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You hiss, stepping away only to collide with the counter top.

Michael laughs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. His normally styled blond hair is tussled, blue eyes glazed over as he leers down at you. “Um, partying?” HIs words are slurred and he stinks of alcohol, your nose scrunching at the pungent smell.

“This isn’t that kind of party, and I don’t believe anyone invited you.” You glare up at him, nearly a foot of distance makes him taller and easier for him to crowed into your space when he takes a wobbly step closer.

“A party is always an invite. You know that sugartits.” The nickname makes you cringe, the feeling of being trapped between a drunk and a hard spot making you antsy. You and Michael dated for just under a year, everything was fine, fun, romantic even until his secret habit of getting too drunk and sticking his dick into anything with a nice set of tits came to light.

“You’re drunk, how the hell did you even get here? No no i don’t want to know, just get away from me and go home.” You move to push past him, anger and resentment bubbling in your guts, but the man in front of you has another idea.

“Who the fuck do you think you are talking to me like that?” Michael grabs your wrist, twisting until you yelp in pain. “You’d think after being with me for so long, you’d learn a little bit of respect, woman.” He shoves you into the counter, your side hitting the granite so hard you lose your breath. “Do I need to teach you a lesson?”

Fear takes root deep in your chest, freezing you to the spot as Michael's hand raises above his head, ready to strike you when a booming voice fills your ears, stopping him in his tracks.

"HEY!"

Michael's head whirls around, his grip lessoning, to find Joel and Tim standing in the doorway, Sally peeking from behind their shoulders.

“Back off man, we are having a private conversation.” Michael spits, teetering on his feet. Everything is tense and silent for a second, Joel’s eyes lock with yours, fear so clearly written across your face, and that’s all he needs.

The older man storms forward, arm back, and swings for Michael’s face, a direct hit that sends your ex stumbling backwards, freeing you as he covers his bleeding nose. You run to Sally’s open arms, and Joel doesn’t stop swinging, barely giving Michale time to react before he’s on the floor.

You’re crying, yelling for Joel to stop as Tim and another man rush forward, struggling to separate the two as a crowd forms at the patio door. By the time Joel is hauled away, the man lays limp on the ground, groaning unintelligibly. Joel's face is red, chest heaving, staring at Michael below him, shaking off the two men holding him.

“I see you around her again and it will be the last fucking thing you do.” Joel’s voice is haunting, sending shivers down your spine.

You push away from Sally, grabbing onto Joel's shirt with shaky fingers. He turns to you, the look of hatred melting into concern. "Are you okay?"

"Am- Am I okay?" You ask incredulously, eyebrows pinched.

“I think y’all should go, I’ll get him out of here just…” Tim is rightfully upset, hands in his hair as he stares down at his friend, blood splattered across the white tile of the kitchen, and the rest of the guests are visibly tense.

“I’m sorry Tim… it had to be done.”

Tim sighs, nodding but says nothing more. Joel nods back, flexing his hand by his side, before taking your arm turning you towards the door.

“Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Is… Is your hand okay?” It’s the third time you’ve asked since getting to your house, this time peeking around the bathroom door with a cup of coffee for him. Joel insisted on cleaning himself up instead of your request to take him to the ER, when you saw how bloody and bruised his knuckles were.

“I’m sure darlin’. Don’t fret over me.” He holds up his hand, still bruising but no longer bleeding, wagging his fingers, showing you he’s alright, before wrapping some gauze and tape around it. You lean into the door frame, staring at the steam drifting up in front of you.

“I… I can’t thank you enough for what you did, Joel… I don’t know how I can repay you.” You feel meek and miserable for what happened, that anyone would get into a fight over you. You keep thinking about how you should of prevented it, instead of letting it go that far. “I’m so sorry it got to that point, I should have done something.”

Joel leans in beside you, brushing his fingers against your shoulder, gaining your attention. You glance up, caught off guard by how close he suddenly is, eyes warm and inviting like the heat radiating off of his body, this close you can see the gray streaks starting to pepper his hair and the lines of crow's feet by his eyes. “Don’t talk like you caused any of this. I’d do it again if it meant keeping you safe.”

Your heart flutters, a small smile twitching your lips as you dip your head again. “What a knight in shinning cowboy boots you are.” Teasingly, you poke his chest, unable to bring yourself to meet his gaze. Joel just smiles, taking the cup from your hands and turning to set it on the bathroom counter.

“I thought knights usually get a kiss for saving the damsel in distress.” His hand cups your cheek fully, tilting your head back up until you're forced to meet his eyes, his words sinking into your body, popping off your nerves like fire, setting you ablaze.

“That only happens in fairytales.” You breathe, relaxing into the stroke of his thumb along the apple of your cheek, watching his eyes dance back and forth between your own. Joel leans farther in, noses a hair width apart.

"How’s this for a fairytale?" His whispers all since of thought lost as he press forward, brushing your lips against his in the most tentative kiss that you barely registers it. You smile though inviting and wanting, and his hand slips to the back of your head drawing you deep.

Your eyelids droop, hands coming to rest on his chest, leaning in closer as heat coils low in your stomach, arousal swimming through your blood making you groggy and tipsy. His lips mold to your own perfectly, maybe a little chapped, the stubble of his beard bristling at your skin causing you to whimper. Joel pulls you further into the bathroom, leaning back into the counter bodies flushed as your hands slip to his neck, holding yourself to him.

In this moment it’s just you and him, the party is forgotten, the fight, the fear, the fucking blister on your ankle from walking two blocks in heels, is all forgotten. Joel doesn’t even care when he grips your waist with his injured hand, the gauze pulling tight across the cuts, scratching his palm, irritating and relentless but far out of his mind.

The kiss slowly turns more desperate, your fingers tangling into the hairs at the back of his head, his hips pressing against your own, and when he pulls away for air you’re kissing his jaw, his cheek, his neck, having waited two years you weren’t passing up the opportunity now.

Joel groans softly, eyes pinched, need shooting through his body with every open mouth kiss you place. He wraps his fingers in your hair, tugging your head back gently earning a whimper of disappointment. You look up at him, eyes glazed over, arousal humming through your body so fiercely you think you might cry.

“Let me take you to bed, I ain’t waited this long to fuck you in a bathroom.” Your breath catches on a moan, a glimmer of defiance shooting through you as you eye him up and down. You can never make it easy for yourself.

“The bathroom is where most house hold accident happen.” You snip back, beaming as he rolls his eyes, the corner of his mouth lifting in a suppressed smile.

“Why did I punch a guy for you again?” Your bark of laughter sends him over and he’s walking you out of the bathroom into the hall. “Bedroom.” You point over his shoulder and he’s lifting you off of your feet, wrapping your legs around his middle.

“B-because you were protecting my dignity?” You giggle, grabbing his face and peppering kisses across his lips and cheeks. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Joel smile this much, your heart feeling like it might burst just from the sight.

“Dignity… right.” He stops at the foot of your bed with a cheeky look that makes you raise an eyebrow.

“What are you thinking?”

His response is hoisting you higher before dropping you, unceremoniously onto the bed with a loud screech. “Joel!” You’re laughing, trying to scold him and failing miserably.

Joel climbs onto the bed above you, fitting himself between your legs and caging you, forearms resting on the mattress by your head. Your laughter sticks in your throat, heart rate picking up as the reality of situation settles over the two of you. “I can always take you to dinner first.” He jokes, hoping secretly that isn’t what you’d want.

“If you make me wait one more day Joel Miller I swear I will have a conniption.” You mock threaten wagging a finger in his face. He smiles, taking your hand and kissing your wrist gently.

“I’ll give you what you want baby.” His teeth nip your skin, staling your breath making your thighs squeeze his. “Yeah, I’ll give you what you want.” He breaths against your skin, goosebumps lifting the hairs on your arms.

You whimper slightly, breathy and thin, hooded eyes watching as he kisses up your arm and to your neck, forcing your head back so he has more room. He bites gently at your sweet spot, gauging how you react, which movement, kiss, or bite draws the most noise from your lips.

“Joel… mmmm…” Your hands slip under his shirt nails leaving a trail of red up his back that has his hips bucking slightly, groaning into your ear.

“Gonna be the death of me pretty girl, ya know that?” He asks, voice laced with arousal, leaning back to look at you under thick lashes as he bucks his hips against yours.

All you can do it whimper in response, bringing your lips to his and kissing him messily, all teeth, and spit like you both are horny teenagers all over again. Joel’s tongue slips into your mouth, taking dominance over your own and it makes you let out a noise that will be seared into Joel’s brain for the rest of his life.

He breaks away suddenly, ripping his shirt over his head and you’re following suit, shimming out of the tight material letting it fall to the floor as your hands find the expanse of his chest. He has defined muscles, years of manual labor under his skin that makes your mouth water, his body just a little softer with age but an underlying strength you’ve already witnessed twice tonight. The man is gorgeous.

“Need you Joel… please I need you.” You beg, trailing your hands down to his jeans tugging at the rough material, earning a chuckle.

“We’ve got all night, darlin. No need to rush.” He scolds mockingly, his own fingers working at the button of your skirt, yanking it over your ass and down your legs. He stops to take you in, hands pressing your hips down, thumbs brushing over the elastic of your simple black cotton panties. “Fuck… you’re beautiful.”

And you’re spinning in drunken bliss from those two words, Joel Miller thinks you are beautiful.

“Up.” He commands and who are you to say no? Your panties join the pile, bra following shortly after, until you are laid out, bare and vulnerable before him.

And Joel takes his time, thorough with his exploration, caressing your body with burning hands. His palms cup your breasts, tweaking your nipple gently, watching your reaction for what feels the best before moving on. Hands smooth down the valley of your soft stomach, kneading your flesh, making you shiver and squirm.

“Don’t go running away from me now.” He whispers, cupping your ass and dragging you closer, legs spread wide over his hips. You keen, the apex of your desire pulsing from being manhandled to where he wants you, and Joel notices with a dark smirk.

His hands slip down the inside of your thighs and you hold your breath, desperate to feel him touch you where you want him the most. And when he does, callused thumb swiping through your soaked lips, your back bows, eyes closing as a near pornographic moan flys from your mouth.

“J-Joel…” you gasp, his thumb circling your clit before dipping back down pressing into your opening. “Ah… please… please…” Bucking your hips you search for more friction, whining into the air head pressing into the mattress.

“Such manners.” You whimper louder as the muscles in your stomach tighten, catching your lip between your teeth. “Does that mean you’re gonna be a good girl for me? Do as I say?”

“Yes… yes, I’ll be good, Joel.” You whine, warm embarrassment filling your belly, hands curling into the blankets below you. Joel smiles watching your hips twitch as he swipes his thumb back up circling your clit again before sinking a thick finger into your heat, your slick walls clamping around him. The moan you let out goes straight to his cock, making it twitch and push against the confines of his jeans.

“Yeah… I know you will be.” He whispers, adding another finger, pumping into you slowly, curling his fingers searching for that mark that will have you melting underneath him. “So tight baby, have to stretch you out if you wanna take my cock.” He presses his hand down on your stomach, trapping you as his thumb rubs circles into your clit, his fingers working faster and you mewl and cry his name, punctuated with a few ‘yess’ and ‘please’

Joel hits a spot deep inside your gummy walls that’s leaving you breathless, pussy starting to spasm as he draws you towards your orgasm faster than you’ve ever experienced before. He keeps that same pace, flexing his fingers, hurtling you towards the peak of your orgasm.

“Don’t stop! Please don’t stop!” You beg, eyes shut tight, knuckles white, body flushing with white heat, making your jaw go slack, thighs shaking uncontrollably as you teeter on the edge.

He leans over you, warm breath against your lips, thumb working your clit harder. “Cum for me darlin, soak my fingers. Take what you want.”

And your body obeys, the band snapping in your stomach making you cry his name. He keeps his steady pace, marveling at the pink straining your checks and chest, the clench of your cunt around his fingers, and the way you say his name like a prayer. Joel is completely wrapped.

“Good girl, that’s right baby.” He whispers, coaxing you through your orgasm only relenting when you whimper wiggling your hips to try and get away. He brings his fingers to his lips, sucking your release from his skin with a groan. “You taste so much better than I ever imagined.”

You’re only able to whine a soft response, languid and docile below him. It’s only when you hear his zipper do you open your eyes. “There she is.” He’s kicking off his pants and boxers, your eyes drop to his cock stiff and angry red, your mouth flooding with spit, lifting your head to take in the view before you. He’s big, big and thick with a bed of black hair at the base, a bead of precum already leaking out of his tip and you’re stomach tightens in delight.

“You’re handsome.” Your voice is hoarse laced with ecstasy and foreign to your own ears.

His eyes widen slightly before he smiles, tan skin blushing. You reach for him then, hands slipping behind his neck and dragging him down into a deep kiss, stealing his breath and groaning at the taste of him and yourself mixed together.

Joel’s arm slips under your shoulders, his bandages hand cradling the back your head as his hips rut into your own. You gasp against his lips, the tip of his cock nudging your sensitive clit, your warm release coating him making him groan. “D’ya… do I need to grab somethin’?” He mutters, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I-if you wanna, I’m … I’m on the pill though and I’m clean.”

“Fucking Christ.”

Joel angles his hips, the head of his cock slipping to your entrance and nudging forward. You lift your legs, wrapping them around his hips, nails digging into his shoulders as he pushes forward, sinking into you with one slow thrust that has you breathless and reeling at the feeling of being so stretched, so fucking full.

“O-oh God Joel.” You breath, clinging to him. Joel groans, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, the friction and pull overwhelming and yet not enough. “Please… Please Joel.” You’re begging, you want to wake up tomorrow and know exactly who made you feel so good with each step and wince.

Joel just groans, picking up on the rut of your hips and presses down closer, his weight welcoming and restricting all at one. “Hold on to me.” With that he sets a deep, hard rhythm, the head of his cock bruising your cervix with the snap of his hips against your thighs. Your bed creaking with the force he uses to drive himself into you with, your name spilling from his lips.

“Fuck… So good baby, feel so good around my cock.” Joel moans, burying his face in the junction of your neck. He bites at your shoulder, marking the skin making you whine into the air, your breath being punched from your lungs. You can already feel your next orgasm building up inside you, muscles clamping down on his cock making him groan and stutter in his pace.

“So-so good, d-don’t want you to stop.” You’ve been broken down to a pleading mess, your slick coating not only his cock but dripping down onto his balls, and pooling on to the sheets below you. Your nails are biting his skin, leaving crescent idents on his neck and shoulders that he will proudly wear when they bruise over. “M… I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!”

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you pretty girl.” He grunts into your ear, his hands moving down between your bodies to find your clit, pressing tight circles into the bundle of nerves that has you withering below him, heels digging into his ass. Your lips are in that perfect O shape, eyebrows pinched and breathy moans filling your room. Joel sits back, slipping his arm to your lower back and holding you tight as he pounds into you, your hands gripping his arms for any form of leverage.

You scream his name, the sound bouncing off the walls as your orgasm rips through you, seizing ahold of your muscles and washing over your brain making you go blank and stiff in Joel’s hold. your pussy squeezing and milking his cock just right pulling his own orgasm from him with a low growl. He stills, hips twitching as he spills inside you, milky release filling you, warming you and spilling around his cock mixing with your own release.

“Fuck… shit…” Joel’s panting, eyes closed and head tilted back. “Oh baby… you’re gonna fuckin kill me.”

You pant out a small giggle, coming down from your high, thighs still twitching lightly as your brain slowly comes back to you. Joel pulls out gently, a small his through his teeth as he falls onto the bed beside you trying to catch his breath. Cracking open your eyes you stair at your ceiling for a moment, you reach across your sheets, fingers brushing against his.

Joel laces his fingers through yours, bringing the back of your hand to his lips, kissing gently. “That… that was…”

“Amazing.” You chuckle, curling into his side content and tired, body relaxing into his as sleep clouds your mind. Joel hums in agreement, the steadiness of your breathing lulling him to into his own dreamless sleep.

The end

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #joel miller #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 2 months

Note

Oh but hear me out, frank and a daughter of Aphrodite. The children of the mars and Aphrodite, of war and love. What ares and Aphrodite wish they were. Make poor baby frank feel so loved and appreciated completely unconditionally

⋆⭒˚.⋆ frank zhang x daughter of venus! reader hcs

content: frank zhang x daughter of venus! reader hcs warning: not any that i can think of!! author's note: i know i know you said aphrodite, but we keepin it roman here fr fr hope you don't mind!! also I KNOW IT'S THE SAME PIC AGAIN BUT IDK WHY MY BRAIN DIDN'T EVEN CONSIDER DAUGTHER OF VENUS SHIT AND THAT PIC IS JUST SO PERFECT THAT I CANNOT FIND IT IN ME TO CARE-

how you managed to stay soft through all that camp jupiter put you through, frank had no idea but he loved it

you were badass in a fight but the moment training was over, you were using someone's breast plate as a mirror to fix your hair and lipgloss

that's actually how you met frank

reyna called the end of practice and you turned to the closest person and inspected yourself in their armor, reaching up and dabbing at your lip gloss with your ring finger while pushing away fly aways with your other hand

frank refused to move, standing still as statue while you did this

you realized what you were doing, popping but up into a stand position and offering frank a honey-sweet smile

"oh, sorry! thanks for letting me use you as a mirror," you mused, the attractiveness of the guy not lost on you

cutest mirror ive ever seen, you thought and mentally giggled at

"a- any time," replied frank, sort of lost in a daze as he took you in

"im gonna hold you to that," you joked, winking before someone called your name

you were scampering away, throwing a glance and wave over your shoulder at the boy before leaving the arena

frank waved back but far too late, still caught up in just how pretty you were

from that moment on, frank had a plan

what can i say? son of war?? he's gotta know how to strategize sometimes

his big master plan?? seek you out and ask you on a date

i know i know, it sounds kinda a crazy but you gotta trust the process here guys

frank's just a wild, crazy guy i dunno what to tell you

but everyone wanted him to do this as fast as possible

bc they were sick of his yapping about you

"did you see y/n's block today? yeah...she's so cool...and pretty...and-"

"frank...we know. shut up, please."

"did you see y/n's hair today? she definitely was trying something new. should- should i tell her i like it?? is that weird or-"

"frank, she put it in a ponytail. she didn't revolutionize hair-"

"TO ME SHE DID!!!"

his bunkmates are encouraging him to ask you out, simply because if they hear one more thing about you, they're gonna kill frank

little do they know, you guys dating makes it worse

there is no escape from a boyfriend who loves his girlfriend and loves to talk about her

first date? just walking around new rome with coffee

you judge frank for his straight black coffee as you take a sip of your rainbow swirl, whip-cream-crapped-in-a-cup, with spinkles monstrosity that is like three stories high and has cookies stuffed in it...somewhere

frank just takes the teasing, hiding his blush behind his cup

at some point, you grabbed frank's wrist and dragged him towards something, excitedly rambling about whatever it was

and...you just never left go??? your hand slipped from his wrist to his hand and it just...it clicked and it fell into place and it felt right

and now both of you are blushing for the rest of the date but also refusing to let go

big big big fan of walking on the side of the sidewalk with the cars??? ya know what i mean???

like will literally stop the two of you, walk around you to the side with the cars, and then allow you to keep walking

every time he does it, all you can think is that he would rather die to keep you safe

and then you wrapping your arm around his and squeezing into his side with this mushy-gushy smile

he's your number one fan (stalker but in the sweetest way)

oh did you mention one singular time that you hated a certain kind of lip gloss??

oh yeah, no the store that sells that one looking like a pin cushion of arrows is completely unrelated don't even worry about it

will find out your favorite animal and wait until the second or third date to just slip into conversation that he could turn into it, shrugging like its no big deal

it is, in fact, a big deal

your squealing all excitedly before asking quietly if he'd be willing to do it

bro pretends to think it over like he was gonna say no

bffr

look at his lovesick ass and tell me he's not gonna do it

please, don't lie to me rn

within seconds, he's flying around as a bird, or he's flopping around in a fountain as a fish, or he's rubbing into your side as a dog or whatever else

and you're cheering, reaching out to pet his fur or his feathers or his scales

and he's grateful that animals can't blush or stutter out words

will write you love letters and actually sends them in the mail

he pays POSTAGE for the mailman to walk down the street

that mailman always gets so pissed, grumbling about stupid boys in love and slamming the mailbox shut

that's how you know frank sent you something, which leads to you jumping out of bed and running to the mailbox, excitedly ripping it open and stealing the letter before returning to your bunk

and it's always just the sweetest things anyone has ever said another anyone else

rivals shakespeare and jane austen and all those bitches

and it's for your eyes only

you repay frank with romantic gestures

"what are these?" he asked as you presented him with new arrows

"oh, you were complaining about the weight being off so i whittled them down!" you beamed a smile at your awestruck boyfriend

"y/n, there's like fifty of these-"

you polish his arm, remove the feathers and dog hair from his clothes, press kisses to his cheek at every opportunity

you just gotta make sure your boy knows he's loved

and boy does he know when youre around

tbh, i just know frank was always sort of worried love wouldn't find him

what if he's too much like his father?? too rough?? too war-stricken?? too damaged??

what if he's not enough like his mom?

what if-

then you came, showing up without so much as a 'hello' and began wiping away at these thoughts

you showed him that frank zhang is worth of love, esspecially your love

the son of war and the daughter of love together in the softest way

history is a circle fr fr

they just like their mommy and daddy but so much better

to surmise, just a boy who's in love with love's daughter and a girl who's in love with the softest son of war

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus x reader #frank zhang #frank zhang x reader

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hibiscuswrites · 4 months

Note

Do you write for COD MW2?? If you do, could I have Ghost, Alejandro, Rudy, and Price reaction to coming home to their women after a tough mission with a lot of close calls?? Thanks!

I do! 🥰 I haven’t yet but I’d like to try my hand at them so I’ve added them to my list. I’ve written a few things for practice but I haven’t posted them. Admittedly, I don’t feel like I write Soap very well 🥴 but I’ll keep trying. Hope you like it 💕

Edit: just realized I’m illiterate and put soap instead of price so I added him in at the end 🙈 sorry about that

You can see his shoulders drop in relief as soon as he lays eyes on you

Happy to be home

Happy to be safe

Happy to be back with you

There were a few times he was worried he wouldn’t make it back to you and not that he finally has, he can’t let you go

His embrace is gentle yet secure as he clings to you

“Missed you so much, mi vida.”

He clings to you for days once he’s back

Definitely makes you breakfast in bed with fresh fruits and whipped cream smiley faces on your pancakes

He’ll sit with you on the couch and watch whatever your heart desires

He makes love to you gently

All soft kisses and hand holding

Enjoys for you to ride him and lets you take whatever you need from him

He’s more than happy to lay there and look up at you looking like a goddess as you bounce and grind

Nearly knocks you over with the force of his embrace when he finally gets his hands on you

One too many close calls where he wondered if gazing at the picture of you in his best would be the last time he ever saw you

He’s handsy

Paws gripping at your ass and thighs as he spins around with you

“There she is, my pretty girl.”

Probably trips with you

He doesn’t mean to be rough with you, he just can’t help it that he’s clumsy in his excitement

He goes down on you every chance he gets on nearly every surface in the house

On the sofa

In the shower

With you bent over the kitchen counter

He’s a munch through and through

And stays by your side like a puppy, simply happy to be back with his favorite girl

His embrace feels like it could pop your eyes clean out of your head

It’s tight and desperate almost

One bulky arm wrapped around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head, holding your face into his chest

Before he had you, it didn’t matter all that much if he didn’t make it home

But now that you’re his, he knows he needs to make it back in one piece

He needs to be there to protect you

To look after you

To make sure you eat and drink enough water

He holds you tightly as if you might slip away if he’s not careful

Eyes fluttering closed as you lean forward and press a soft kiss to the bridge if his nose

He allows himself to enjoy your affection and tenderness, whether he believes he deserves it or not

Loves soaking in a hot bath with you, feeling your back against his chest as he just enjoys the safe silence

Just don’t tell any one

He also will go down on you until you cry, hands pushing away at his head and shoulders

Whining that you can’t take any more

But he’s not interested in hearing that

“Sure you can, love. You wouldn’t deny me this perfect pretty pussy now, would ya?”

He devours you as soon as he has you in his arms

His mouth and hands touching everywhere he can get to

He’s barely got the door locked behind him before he’s stripping you

Leaving soft bites and hickies trailed along your body

He knows things could’ve easily gone south and he would’ve never seen you again

And that’s a thought he simply cannot bear

He’s got you in a mating press on the living room floor before you know it

Eyes fixated on your face as you whimper and pant, full to the brim with him

He commits every expression and noise to memory

“Missed me like crazy, huh chulita? My poor baby was so lonely without me.”

He ignores the rug burn in his knees, the very least of his worries

But he’s tender and caring with you afterwards, cleaning you up and cooking you your favorite meal

Planning date nights

Taking you out dancing

Enjoying as much of you as he possibly can before he has to leave again

He encases you tightly

Breathing in your scent

Committing it to memory

He’s missed you like crazy

Gazed at that crumpled picture of you in his pocket just in case it’s the last time

And now that he’s home he just can’t take his eyes or hands off of you

He wants to shower, get the grime off before he taints you

And he brings you with him

Making sure he’s clean before he has you pressed against the shower wall

Showing you how much he’s missed his girl

“Can’t get enough of you, I swear. You’ve ruined me.”

Romance for days once he’s back home

Flowers fresh from the florist

Little love notes scattered around the house

Anything to see you smile

General taglist

@titty-teetee @vibranium-soul @ateliefloresdaprimavera @glimmerglittergirl @hatterripper31 @lilac-tea-time @krysiewithak

#headcannons #alejandro vargas x reader #rudy parra x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #alejandro vargas #rudy parra #cod mw2 #captain price #price x reader

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butdaddyilovehim-hs · 6 months

Text

Obsession Part II

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: older!H, age gap romance

Y/N has been on edge waiting to hear from Harry. She’s decided to let him come to her so she doesn’t text him first. But the wait is proving more difficult than she imagined. Every time her phone buzzes, she jumps, scrambling to see if he’s deigned to grace her with a text. But it’s never him. And to be fair, Y/N is being slightly dramatic because it’s only been 3 days. But still. Her mind is consumed with the memory of his lips on hers and the way his body pressed against her own. Then she lets her mind wander to fantasies. Of what might have happened if Isla hadn’t decided to come home at that very moment. A fantasy of Harry on his knees before her has her clenching in her seat and it’s then she knows that the image… the slight obsession has gotten out of hand. Because she’s in public in a coffee shop and she’s 90% sure that if she’d continued her daydream she would have moaned out loud.

“Y/N? You ok?” Jack waves a hand in front of her face and she jumps slightly.

“I’m… fine. Just thinking, sorry.”

“You’re looking pretty pale. Are you sure you’re- Isla! Hi! What are you doing here?”

Y/N jumps at the sound of the girls name, spinning in her chair to find Isla Styles behind her.

“Hi Jack, hey Y/N. Dad and I are just grabbing a coffee before we head back home. Are you still picking me up tonight Jack?”

At the realisation that Harry is in the same coffee shop, Y/N freezes, her eyes frantically scanning the space until she spots him in line ordering for both him and Isla. He looks so… good. His curls fall in a mess at his forehead and Y/N feels the urge to walk closer and run her fingers through them. Harry’s sunglasses sit snugly atop his head even though there isn’t any sun to be seen outside. He pays, moving to the side to wait for their drinks, before he takes out his phone to pass the time. Y/N simply can’t help herself.

(10:18am) Y/N: Looking pretty handsome over there stranger x

She watches as he reads it, a look of confusion taking over his features before he grins, lifting his head to look around. His smirk widens as he locks eyes with her and Y/N swallows. Eye contact with Harry is exhilarating. There’s something about the way that his green eyes stare so fiercely into hers that take her breath away. There’s something else there too… lust, Y/N thinks but it’s too early to know for sure. So she simply offers him the sweetest smile she can manage before dipping her head back down to focus on her drink. He can come to her if he likes. Jack and Isla are still caught up in their conversation, oblivious as to what is happening between the two.

Y/N plays with the paper that once made up her straw as it begins disintegrating at the bottom. She’s still focused on it, when the air shifts and she just knows he’s standing in front of her.

“Y/N. Nice to see you, what a surprise.” Harry stands in front of them all, holding two drinks. One is a sugar coma inducing whipped cream mountain with caramel sauce that he swiftly passes to Isla and the other is… black coffee.

“Black coffee? Pretty basic don’t you think Styles?” Y/N looks up at him

“What can I say? I like the classics.” He sends her a knowing smile and Y/N fights the blush that threatens to creep onto her cheeks.

“Y/N? Is it alright if Isla and I actually head out earlier than planned? I didn’t realise she would be here, so we can make the most of the day.” Jack asks.

“Dad is that ok?” Isla turns to Harry, who shrugs.

“Sorry Jack but if you take the car now, I won’t be able to get home. You’ll have to pick Isla up later.” Y/N says to Jack who rolls his eyes before muttering a ‘sorry’ to Isla.

“I can drop you home if these two want to head out?” Harry offers.

“Ok sorted, thanks Mr Styles. We’ll be back later.” Jack takes Isla’s hand and all but drags her out of the coffee shop.

“Hold on Jack wait-“ Y/N calls out, but they’re gone. She shakes her head and Harry chuckles.

“What? Don’t want to be alone with me?”

“No… It isn’t that. We just live out of your way. Sorry you’re stuck driving me home.” Y/N looks back down at her straw, which is now an unusable pile of wet paper.

“Here.” Harry passes her a new one out of his coat pocket. “And it’s not a problem. Maybe we can use this time to have that chat.”

“Do you just carry straws around?” “No… I saw yours basically breaking down from across the room so I grabbed you a new one when I was at the counter.”

“That’s… sweet.”

Harry hums in acknowledgement.

“So, you want to chat?” Y/N asks, breaking the silence.

“Mmm. Not here. Let’s go.”

He places a hand at her lower back as they move to leave the coffee shop and Y/N feels tingles run down her spine. His touch is warm and comforting, even through her clothes and she leans into it, just the smallest bit. But Harry notices, his small smirk hidden under the loop of the scarf around his neck.

The ride back to Y/N’s place is silent, the low murmur of Fleetwood Mac playing through the speaker in Harry’s car. Y/N is nervous and another emotion she doesn’t quite know how to describe. She doesn’t really know why. It’s just two people talking. Isn’t it? Harry seems to know how she feels as one of his hands rests softly on her knee as he drives. Y/N decides she likes it when he touches her. She wishes he would do it more often.

Y/N busies herself with making two cups of tea, before sitting opposite to Harry on her couch.

“I wanted this to be over dinner.” Harry confesses, breaking the silence.

“I know.”

It’s silent again.

“What are we doing Y/N?” His eyes search hers for the answers to a question that neither of them know the answer to.

“I’m… I’m not sure.”

“Because there’s something here. This… magnetic attraction. I feel like I’m being pulled to you. I think about you constantly. I want to know what it would feel like to kiss you again. I want to know what it would sound like to hear you scream my name. I can’t make it stop. I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s consuming me.”

“You never texted me.”

“I know. I didn’t know what to say. This is so… real. But you’re so young, I don’t know how to handle that.”

“I don’t think my age has anything to do with it. We obviously connect in ways that aren’t just physical. I don’t have a problem with it and neither should you. If we’re going to do this we need to trust each other Harry. Ok?” She moves closer and Harry takes a breath. He shifts so their faces are inches apart.

“Ok. What do we tell Jack and Isla?”

“We don’t. Not unless this is definitely going somewhere.”

“So you’re my secret?” He smirks, cupping her cheek. “We’re each others.”

Y/N inches forward, moulding her lips to his and Harry groans at the electricity that sparks between them. He pulls her onto his lap, revelling in the feeling of her body pressed up against his chest. His hand trails slowly up her top before he pulls away slightly. Y/N grumbles in annoyance, moving to chase his lips with her own.

“Relax love. We have time. Is this ok?” He motions to his hand beneath her shirt and Y/N nods desperately.

“You don’t have to ask, do whatever you want to me, just do something.”

Harry’s lips curl into a mischievous grin as his hand finds the material of her bra.

“Consent is important darling. And you shouldn’t say things like that, or I really will take advantage. Oh… the things I want to do to you.”

His lust filled expression makes Y/N squirm in his lap as she silently begs him to keep touching her. Then… his phone rings.

The loud disturbance shocks them both out of their haze and Y/N climbs off Harry’s lap so he can reach his phone. He takes one look at the screen and his face goes cold, emotionless. He stares at the screen for a short while, as though he’s contemplating letting it ring, before standing quickly and grabbing his jacket.

“Sorry Y/N, we’re going to need to cut this short, I have to take this and handle some things.”

“Cut this short…? Harry I’m not your business partner. This isn’t-“

“Y/N, I don’t really have time to talk to you about what we are and what we’re not. I have to go, I’ll text you.” His voice is stern and Y/N flinches at his tone.

He presses a swift, barely there kiss to her cheek before racing to the door, tapping frantically at his screen as he calls the number back

“I told you not to fucking call me anymore. I can’t be…” Y/N listens to his voice fade into the distance as he walks away from the house, shutting the door behind him with a slam.

A/N: It's been a ridiculously long time - I have no excuse I'm sorry lol

Tags: @lukesaprince @harryspirate @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lilyrmason12 @styleslover-1994 @stylesfever @kathb59 @indierockgirrl @bxbyysstuff @gills-lounge @lomlhstyles @opheliaofficial07 @behindmygreyeyes @gem1712 @stylesmoonlight12 @babyiamperfectforyou

@velvetballaspark @harrys-flower @macy-tpwk

@mema10 @intimacywithceline @jerseygirlinca

@daphnesutton @rafaaoli @allthelovehes @lovrave

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @namelesssav @hsonlyangelxo @smartcookee @myfavfanficsever

#harry styles #hslot #love on tour #harrystyles #harry styles au #harry styles fics #harry styles fic #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles ceo #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fics #harry styles writings

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danikamariewrites · 25 days

Note

Hi! I’m the anon the asked about the pregnancy request! I’d love to request one with Ruhn. I feel like he would be an amazing dad!

The reader has been having pregnancy symptoms like morning sickness, cravings, etc. she doesn’t even think she might be pregnant and Ruhn doesn’t consider it either because of what the oracle told him. Either Dec and Flynn or Bryce and Hunt (or whoever you want) bring up that maybe she might be pregnant to Ruhn or her. Their reactions are up to you. I just think after Ruhn thinking he would never have kids it would be great. 😅

Baby?

Ruhn x reader

A/n: He would be so happy to be a dad and I hope he and Lidia can have a kid of their own one day

Warnings: pregnancy, mentions of vomit

Ruhn did a double take as he walked past you. “Hey y/n/n, what ya got there?” He raised an eyebrow at the wild sandwich you were putting together. You look up at him, knife in hand floating above the toasted bread. “A sandwich.” You murmur, a slight blush at being caught.

Your mate hummed taking in all the ingredients you have laid out on the counter. “Cream cheese, turkey, pickles, and Solas, I don’t even want to name everything else.” He joked. You throw a pickle at him, “Let me eat in peace asshole,” you giggle.

Throwing the pickle back at you he makes his way to stand next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Ok, ok, make your crazy whatever this is.” “Thank you,” you kiss his lips and shoo him away.

The next morning Ruhn wakes up to the sound of you being sick in the bathroom. He flings himself out of bed to be by your side, knowing how much you hate being sick. Pulling your hair back Ruhn lays a tattooed hand gently on your back, rubbing in soothing circles.

When you’re finally done you lean back against him, your eyes closed and trying to calm yourself. Ruhn helps you stand, guiding you over to the sink to rinse out your mouth. “You ok, baby?” You nod, holding your face under the faucet gulping water and spitting it out. Resting your face in your hands you take in deep breathes, “Solas, that was fucking awful. What the hell did I eat?”

Ruhn bit back his laugh thinking back to the monstrosity you made for lunch yesterday. “And don’t bring up my sandwich. It was good.” You say, reading his mind. Ruhn goes back to rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. Kissing the back of your head he murmurs, “Come on you, lets get you back to bed,”

Leaving you with a few slices of toast, ice water, and a forehead kiss Ruhn leaves you to rest.

Hours later Bryce comes in the house to find her mate lazing about with her brother and the rest of the frat pack. Looking around for you Bryce purses her lips curiously. “Where’s y/n?” Hunt rushes over to her, embracing his mate like he hasn’t seen her all day. “She’s in bed, she was sick this morning.” Ruhn said with a small frown.

“Oh, I’ll go check on her.” Bryce gives Hunt one more kiss before untangling herself from his grasp. Bryce raced up the stairs, gently knocking on the door to Ruhn’s bedroom. “Come in,” you grumble, rising up on your elbows. The sight of Bryce’s wine red hair brings a smile to your face. Bryce plops down next to you, “How are you babe?”

You let out an exaggerated groan, burying your face in your pillow. “I feel like shit. I’ve been sick all morning and I am so fucking exhausted.” Bryce narrowed her eyes at you letting out a small hum. You could see the gears turning in Bryce’s clever mind. “Do you…are you pregnant?” Your eyes practically bulge out of your head at the question. Pregnant? But the Oracle…didn’t she tell Ruhn he wouldn’t have kids or something?

“No. There’s no way. Right?” You say quickly. “Let me call Hypaxia. She’ll be able to help.” Bryce quickly whips out her phone to call Hypaxia.

The Witch quickly entered the house, passing the boys without a word, ignoring Ruhn’s questions about you. Entering the bedroom she gives you the brightest smile. Putting her hands over her heart she makes her way over to the bed. “You think you’re pregnant,” Hypaxia coos at you.

“Yeah,” you say with an equally bright smile, pressing your hands against your cheeks. You move to the middle of the bed, Bryce holding your hand while Hypaxia kneels next to you, holding her glowing hands over your exposed tummy.

Full of worry, Ruhn couldn’t just sit here and mindlessly chat with his friends. If Hypaxia were here, and speeding up to you, did that mean you were really sick? It was rare for fae to get really sick. Was Ruhn missing the early signs of a bad illness? Standing abruptly Ruhn quickly made his way upstairs.

Opening the door he found the three of you on the bed, smiling like giddy school girls with tears falling down your and Bryce’s cheeks. So not severely ill then? Ruhn cleared his throat, all three of your heads whipping toward him. Bryce and Hypaxia looked at you, nodding at them they both slip off the bed walking past Ruhn giving him a knowing smile.

You wave him over and Ruhn wastes no time rushing to your side. Ruhn brings his hand to cradle your cheeks. His vibrant blue eyes scanning your face for any signs of sickness. “I know what you’re thinking, I could feel you through the bond. I promise there is nothing to worry about. Well not yet,” you joke. Ruhn title his head in curiosity. Taking one of his hands you rest it on your still exposed tummy.

Sending a wave of love down the bond you smile up at Ruhn. “I’m pregnant, my love.” You whisper. A joyous laugh leaves Ruhn’s lips, silver lining his eyes. “You-you’re really,” he can’t get the words out. The bond overwhelmed with joy coming from both of you. Ruhn pulls you to his chest, holding the back of your head as he burys his face in the crook of your neck.

Pulling away he gently lays you down, now hyper aware of the little life growing inside you. As he stares down at your still flat stomach he places a hand over his mouth. “I’m gunna be a dad. We’re gunna be parents.” You cover his hand that still hasn’t left your stomach, nodding your head against the pillow. “Yeah,” you whisper, still in disbelief.

#crescent city #crescent city fanfic #crescent city x reader #crescent city fluff #crescent city fanfiction #crescent city ruhn #ruhn fluff #ruhn danaan #ruhn danaan x reader #prince ruhn #ruhn danaan x you #ruhn x reader #ruhn x you #ruhn crescent city

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bellewintersroe · 4 months

Text

Jenson Button x FamousReader!2009

this is like a second part (can be read individually) to THIS. Here’s just some more headcannons of what it would be like when Jenson is in a relationship with a famous British celeb who’s extremely popular, especially amongst the party scene. warnings: mentions of sex, oral sex, nothing too graphic but I just knowww Jenson gets down and dirty. mentions of alcohol and some drug use? not to glamorise it we all know celebs ain’t innocent ok. for this case 18+ 😇

Jenson is a cutie ok, the more he falls in love with his SO the more he finds himself looking out for her in the garage. Whether this be before or after his race, just imagine his head poking out of his car, or he’s fully suited, helmet still on, glimpsing around trying to find her.

lots of cuddles, he’d keep an arm slung around her, especially if they’re in public where there’s paparazzi- in that case he’s keeping an extra tight grip on her.

despises the paparazzi ok- he’s a polite man, pretty tame, but British press in the 2000s were VILE and for his girlfriend, he can’t stand the idea of them even looking at her.

helps shields her eyes when the flashes are too bright.

Taxis home together at questionable hours of the morning, limbs sprawled over each other and getting caught snogging in the backseats.

drunk sex- especially when he wins the championship, he’s so smug and proud, fucking into her with all his energy, cos he’s world champion baby 😏. lovesss seeing her legs pinned up over his shoulders.

thanks his girl publicly after he wins his championship.

as I mentioned in the part prior to this, Jenson LOVES going on holiday with her, like he’s a bit of a perv when it comes to seeing y/n in a bikini, especially after he’d already seen to many shoots of her before even meeting each other.

never admits to being a fanboy of her but the smirk would say otherwise.

getting down and dirty on a yacht, hidden by a beach towel whilst he fingers her, he has his sunnies on and he’s smirking, pressing kisses to her temple and whispering sweet nothings.

“you’re doing so good aren’t you?” “all these people taking pictures of you and nobody has a clue what we’re doing.” “should put on a show for them, shouldn’t we?”

so mf dirty, his British accent makes it 10x sexier too.

sex in the pool of a yacht, and every single room in there, wants to try everything with her, but he isn’t pushy in the slightest- Jenson wouldn’t ever come close to making her feel uncomfortable.

They’d deffo see pictures released of them both the next day and giggle because nobody would have a clue what was happening under that towel.

can be really soft in sex, like stroking her face, talking her thru it -omfg I need him.

Deffo wants to try like anal, and certain kinks- I feel like she would too, idk when they’re both drunk they’d decide they wanna try something and sometimes it’s an utter fail.

other times it’s just giggly, exciting sex where they’re both eating fucking whipped cream off one another or something.

soft, gentle moans from him, especially when the sex is more passionate, when it’s rougher I feel like he’d be quiet but let out some grunts whenever he’s out of breath or gets really into it.

He’s a sucker when she goes down on him, like he’s a mess omg- if there’s one way to elicit moans from him that’s exactly how and she’s soooo good at it- he makes plenty of public innuendos about this.

I feel like y/n would wear the smallest little mini skirts, like she’s a Y2K queen and befriends lots of other wags at this stage- constantly pictures walking around the paddock looking cool asf.

Deffo a trend setter, but they’re the type of couple in 15 years that the younger generation look at and go ‘they’re together?!?’

as they get older they deffo become more private, but not secretive.

can spot each other in a crowd instantly, when he wins a race you best expect him to practically JUMP onto her, sometimes he forgets he’s bigger than her lmao.

The cameras go CRAZY for this and their faces are printed all over the newspapers.

Quiet, lazy mornings in England, especially when it’s cold out and Jenson finally has time off- the two of them can really appreciate the quiet side of life at home.

makes him want to settle down- but I think he’d be worried at first about bringing a child into the world- they’re having too much fun with each other, but I think they would calm down after a few years.

occasional bickers, maybe they both walk out of a nightclub and she’s storming ahead of him with a face like a slapped arse. Jenson would make a comment and y/n would be pissed that all the onlookers heard.

Y/n and Jenson’s relationship on the rocks?!

bitch the next morning he’s on top of her having the best make up sex ever.

Seriously their stamina is insane so they fuck like rabbits.

I feel like because y/n maybe has grown up in the public eye? Or fame came in her teens, her behaviour can be fairly erratic at times- like especially before Jenson the partying and boozing was out of control, but being a few years older he really settles her down in life.

like not that she’s troubled (I’m not gonna glamorise it but it’s real life) but it can’t be easy dealing with everything and fame at a young age, I feel like Jenson would take care of her at times, like if she gets wayyyy to drunk he wouldn’t lecture her, but he’d deffo have this sad look on his face, clearly he’s worried.

she’s ok tho, especially with him and like I said she settles down and matures a lot with Jenson.

She’d probs smoke weed every now and then and idk if Jenson would like it, especially when he’s so focused on racing, but he tries it once or twice and would probs just fall asleep immediately.

I feel like he’s so cuddly at times, like in the middle of the night he’d just snuggle up to her. So cute. On holiday on sunbeds he’d be so cuddly, grabbing at her and it causes for some really cute paparazzi pictures.

not to glamorise droogz and drinking but them two probably party a lot in the first year together.

Jenson is the type to eye his gf up from the other side of the room, nods her over or something sexy.

hand would start on your shoulder and end up on her ass- so many headlines the next day…

But yeah they’re such a popular, attractive couple, you either want to be with them or want to be them.

#jenson button x reader smut #jenson button smut #f1 smut #f1 x reader smut #f1 x reader #Jenson button x reader

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tangerinesgf · 24 days

Note

Okay but imagine Tom Ryder falling for a fan who has ZERO and I mean zero clue on him being famous. Like he met the fan on accident and then was expecting the fan to go crazy when seeing him but the fan wasn’t even interested

And he’s like so into it becuase this hasn’t happened to him before!

Also female reader as the fan!!!

Tags/warnings: nothing I think.. Tom being an ass before being nice.

A/N: this was really fun to write. I'll be honest i had to keep myself from making him too much of an asshole, but i think this is pretty in character. Anywaysss tysm for your request and i hope you like itt<3

Tom Ryder has never met someone who doesn't know him. He's the biggest star of the world, everyone and their mother's knew about him. Or at least that's what he thought.

He was at his favorite coffee shop, undercover with a hat and black sunglasses. Usually he'd love the attention and praise from his fans, but today he wasn't really in the mood.

As the barista hands him his coffee order (a grande Caramel macchiato, 1/3 whole milk, 1/3 almond milk, 1/3 soy milk, 1 shot of extra espresso decaf, whipped cream and caramel drizzle on top), Ryder turns away to walk out of the shop.

Without noticing he drops his bank card which he used to pay with. You notice this while standing behind him in line and pick the card up.

"Oh, sir!" You call out as you rush after him.

Tom sighs and rolls his eyes before turning around to face the girl. "Here we go.." He mutters to himself.

"You dropped your-"

He instantly cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence. "Yeah, yeah it's me I'm amazing and the hottest man you've ever seen blah blah I know.."

You stare at him for a bit while still holding onto his card. "What?"

"What do you mean what?" He looks annoyed, you're wasting his time every second that he stands there facing you.

"I found your card.. what are you talking about?" You hold the card up to show him, your face still scrunched up in confusion.

"I'm Tom Ryder. Did you honestly not recognize me?" He raises his eyebrow at you. Is this girl stupid? He thinks to himself.

"Was I supposed to?"

"Yes. Everyone does I'm Tom Ryder." He says almost baffled that you don't recognize him.

"You keep saying your name but it doesn't ring a bell." You shrug your shoulder

"Tom Ryder." He repeats once again as if saying it for the third time would help. "Action Pact franchise? Hot Earth? Bad Cop, Good Dog? Metalstorm? How about biggest moviestar of the world?" He explains to you like you're a child.

"Oh I did hear about Metalstorm. Isn't that with that actress Iggy? Was that her name? She's cool."

"What no- I mean yes she is in it, but it's my movie. I'm the lead actor." Tom says in an agitated tone. How could you not know him, everyone knows him. Yet for some reason you kept staring at him with those confused eyes. Those beautiful confused eyes..

"Right well- good for you." It's a genuine smile, it's adorable. Why are you smiling at him like that? You should be wanting to jump on him out of excitement. Tom has never felt so confused in his life.

"Don't you watch movies at all?" He questions you.

"Ofcours I do. Indie movies." You say with a soft smile on your face.

Indie movies. Right. Tom Ryder was known for big budget blockbuster films, not smallscale indie stuff. Although now that he thinks about it everything could be a blockbuster with his name attatched to it.

"Right- so my face means nothing to you?"

"I mean.. I guess it looks slightly familiar but no.. not really. Sorry." You smile apologetically.

A strange sensation washes over Tom as he realizes this girl does not care about him at all. It's oddly humbeling even for him. "No it's fine I guess, I just never met someone who isn't crazy about me."

"Well I could still do that." You chuckle and finally hand the bank card back to him. "I'll just pretend to be obsessed with you and then you can roll your eyes at me or something."

"You'd really make a fool out of yourself for me?" He raises his eyebrow at you. Sure he's used to everyone doing everything for him whenever he asks, but this felt nice, less forced than usual.

"Yeah, look." You smile and then turn your back to him. A second later you turn to face him again, your face laced with excitement.

"Oh my god, you're Tom Ryder! I've seen like all your movies and you're so cool and hot and so amazing. Can we take a picture oh and an autograph, will you marry me?!" You say acting like an obsessed fangirl that's in love with him.

"Alright alright.. I get it." He laughs, readjusting the sunglasses on his face. He was starting to like her more and more.

"Really? I can go on if you'd like. There's this whole part where I improvise your part in a movie." Yoi brush your hair back from where it had fallen in front of your face and Tom's eyes can't help but linger at every move you make.

"No it's alright." He chuckles. "But I will say you're missing out. I've won many awards ya know. I'm not just a pretty face." He says with a grin on his face, trying to impress her.

"Never said you were. Maybe I should go see your new film at the cinema then." You tease playfully.

He chuckles softly at that. The idea of you going to see his movie made him excited. He wanted to know what you'd think about the film eventhough he had just met you 5 minutes ago. Then an idea suddenly pops into his head.

"I have a better idea. How would you like to go to the premiere, hm?" He grins

A/N: Tysm for reading I hope you enjoyed it!! Comments and reblogs are so much appreciated you don't even understand. Love you guyss<3

Taglist: @earth-elemental18 @cockete @allaroundjejje (lemme know if you wanna be removed/added)

#aaron taylor johnson #aaron johnson #aaron johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #the fall guy #tom ryder #tom ryder x reader

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greenhousethree · 8 months

Text

Good Enough

100-Word Drabbles for Arthur and Ginny Weasley

Fifteen drabbles written for @thethreebroomsticksfic Weasley Week, Oct 16th: Arthur Weasley. Read below or on AO3.

“You’re joking.”

Molly chews back her smile, shakes her head coyly. The house isn’t quiet, per say, but in a rare stroke of luck the twins and Ronnie’s naps have aligned.

And he’s wedged around the bathroom sink with his wife, giggling like children over a potion that’s just changed color.

“A girl…”

The day she’s born, Fabian is there. Peers over the bassinet for so long, Arthur wonders if he too is counting ten perfect pink toes.

“Shit,” he says to Arthur over a cigar that night, after talking war, “this world will never be good enough for her.”

ii.

It’s his turn tonight, when they hear little feet across the kitchen floor. He’s not surprised it’s her, face still blotchy, hair sticking up everywhere from this afternoon’s tantrum that left her knackered.

She whips around in the pantry doorway, eyes like saucers. “I’m hungry.”

After leftover stew from her yellow paisley bowl, he lays in bed with her. Grants her request for a story on the condition she doesn’t suck her thumb.

“Once upon a time, there was a witch named Ginny who lived in a deep, dark wood…”

“No, Daddy,” she whispers, eyes nearly closed. “I’m a dragon.”

iii.

Molly tells him she cried the whole way home from King’s Cross. By early afternoon, he can still tell— the aftershocks seem to surprise her, those gasping little breaths.

“You know the best part of being the last one left,” he divulges over homemade strawberry ice cream that has yet to do the trick, “is that no one’s here to fight you for your pick of broomstick.”

The rest of her bowl melts on the porch swing. She’s out until it gets dark in the orchard, comes in for supper with leaves in her hair and the biggest jack-o-lantern grin.

iv.

The day they bring her back home, he carries her trunk upstairs and sits beside her on the bed. Apologizes for ever blaming her, even for a second.

She counters by saying something lifeless and self-loathing and broken. Eleven-year-old fingers pick at bruised nail beds— tiny, perfect hands. He still can’t fathom it.

That night, Molly brings her dinner and doesn’t come back down. When he heads up to bed, he sees they’ve clearly emptied all her shelves, stacked every novel and journal and textbook outside her door where they can’t hurt her.

He’s never been angrier in his life.

Since this morning, he’s meant to tell her he’s sorry— sorry they couldn’t offer her anything better on her birthday than this condemnable house-turned-war room. Sorry for the second-hand leather satchel wrapped in faded Christmas paper, even though she wanted a broom; sorry everyone’s thoughts are on tomorrow’s hearing.

After dinner he finally says it, out of Molly’s earshot. Sitting on the stairs leading from the kitchen, plates of fudgy cake in hand.

“Don’t apologize.” She’s still smiling huge, bumps his shoulder. The Flatulence Fez the twins crowned her with slips down over one eye. “I really love the bag.”

vi.

It should’ve been the day that made them proudest as parents, marrying off their firstborn. It wasn’t.

This morning, they boxed up centerpieces and charger plates in the shed, repaired all the furniture, met with the Order. His ears still ring. The house is eerie without those three.

He finds them in her room. His wife is clutching their daughter as she sobs harder than he’s ever seen, inconsolable, wracking herself hoarse. He feels it like a sword to the chest.

In bed later, Molly shakes her head with that look he earns sometimes when he’s being thick. “She’s heartbroken.”

vii.

Friday before Easter, he changes from work robes into something Muggle and tweed and itchy. Platform 9¾ is packed with people avoiding eye contact, and the Express is late. It was late in December, too— arrived without Luna. He waits, terror tightening his throat.

He’s numb with relief when he sees her, one of the only kids lugging a trunk like he advised. She’s swimming in a jumper he’s sure is Ron’s, and that twinges a bit. There’s something different, he notices, walking to the entrance. Colder. Quiet. He doesn’t ask… can’t quite bear to.

Four days later, they flee.

viii.

She’s fighting him. Kicking, clawing.

He holds on with everything he has, arms clasped around her chest, and it’s like he can feel her breaking inside. But if he lets go, he’ll lose her, too. Like Fred.

Like the body they’re all staring at, lifeless at Hagrid’s feet.

Weeks later, when the Boy Who Lived finds him in the shed one night, hedging, guiltier than anyone he’s ever seen, he already knows. For a moment he considers letting the kid squirm, like the father ought to do.

But then he remembers her first year, and wordlessly hands over a screwdriver.

ix.

“One more,” she tells their waitress, pointing at a coaster she’s put in the middle. “For my sixth brother.”

The table falls quiet. But then George chuckles and they all take his cue, except Molly.

Snow collects on the windows as the bangers and pies and chips are served. She laments early-morning practices to them all, pretends she’s already bored of all the travel.

“Knock it off,” Charlie snickers, grinning. “Rookies can’t complain. We know you’re having a blast.”

At the end of the night she beats everyone to the bar, pays their tab. Arthur suspects it’s her whole paycheck.

“I definitely saw you cry,” she accuses. She’s graceful even in smugness, grinning something wicked over her lipstick-stained champagne flute.

He pretends to grumble, but he knows she knows. “Hard not to, with the bloody groom getting all choked up.”

The band calls them up soon after, and he pulls her close. “It’s okay,” she murmurs as her face starts to blur again, inches away. “Just admit you’ve gone soft, Dad. I won’t tell.” He tugs on her hand to spin her, chuckling.

They cut cake, and Harry whispers something that makes her laugh, and she lights up the room.

xi.

Predictably, the stadium loses it when she flies out with a new surname on her kit. Ron rolls his eyes as she lands on the pitch with a bit of swagger.

She flies well today, but he reckons she could miss every shot and the commentators would still talk of nothing else. In the stands, Harry laughs when Arthur leans over to ask how it feels to play second fiddle.

“I’ll never be good enough for her,” he snorts over the rim of his pint. “But I’m sure you knew that.”

She scores twelve goals, and the Harpies clinch playoffs.

xii.

“I’d kill for a drink about now,” she mutters, leaning against the railing. He knows better than to say she probably shouldn’t be out here, either— the venue’s porch, serving as refuge for men who normally never smoke.

He takes a long drag as they watch her boys toddle after their dad on the lawn. “Nearly there, sweetheart.” Treading lightly with his words, lest he incur any of what Muriel’s other well-intended mourners did with their attempts at small talk (“Like a fucking whale, thanks for asking”).

“Hey,” she smirks, “maybe you and Mum can buy a beach cottage now.”

xiii.

The mug Molly poured when they arrived is tepid now, sitting on the table. Shadows lengthen like ghosts beneath his daughter’s eyes; he suspects they’re five days old.

The kids are all asleep, Molly updates them.

Her jaw tightens. At her temple, he notices a couple of gray strands. “I can’t—” she whispers. Squeezes her eyes shut; nothing else comes out. “They need their dad. I’m not good enough on my own.”

“He’ll come home safe, darling. Always does.” And he makes her promise to never say that again.

He takes both of her hands in his, and they’re cold.

xiv.

They’re celebrating Ted and Vic beneath a canopy of fairy lights. Bill’s weepy toast prompts Fleur to frisk his brothers till she finds George’s flask.

She never realizes Ginny’s stowing the bottle.

His children outlast their kids and spouses. It’s one of those nights he can’t let himself miss, tired as he is.

His daughter points a wobbly finger. “Lils has a boyfriend, by the way. Doesn’t think we know. Harry’s going spare.”

He chuckles. “Now he gets it. Imagine trying to justify hating the Chosen One.”

She laughs, nearly tips her chair. “You should tell him that. Might help.”

xv.

It comes in waves. Feels like a lifetime has passed since yesterday; another before that. Molly— bless her— tried to prepare him for it. Tried to comfort him. Imagine.

It feels too big now, their little house on the beach. Perfect for two lives, cavernous with just one.

She finds him in the garden before sunset. Small, warm hands enclose his.

“Look, Dad.”

It’s a delicate, fluttering thing with blue wings, bobbing on the wind. Molly’s favorite.

“She’s found us again.”

He smiles and tucks a silver lock behind her ear, meeting her gaze— precisely the same shade of brown.

#arthur weasley #ginny weasley #girl dad #harry potter #molly weasley #weasleyweek #molly/arthur #hinny #ao3 #fatherhood

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diaryofaprettyprincess · 2 years

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eddie munson x popular!hyperfem!reader where he works at Scoops Ahoy with Robin and Steve. he hates it there, mainly because of the ‘god-awful outfits’ (his words), but he needs extra money on the side and the movie theater wasn’t hiring, so here he is.. (he refuses to wear the hats though--but his hair is loosely tied back so he gets away with it (which steve is jealous of because for some reason he still has to wear them (probs because eddie sold the manager weed for free as long as he didn’t need to wear those dumb hats)).

so, he’s just scooping icecream to little brats, his ringed fingers tired from mainly erica demanding to try more flavors for the past hour before she decides to leave without buying anything.

but, when he sees you come in, he forgets anything. ‘m thinking of that one scene with rachel mcadams in the move ‘the hot chick’ (iykyk) (you’ll understand maybe later hehe)..

your hips sway as eddie swallows thickly, his grip on the icecream scooper making an indent on his palm..god, why did he have to work there?! he’s wearing possibly the most dorky thing known to man-kind, and here you come, your posse and all; short skirts, heels, and lipgloss galore. eddie’s been obsessed with you since middle school, and you know that (you take advantage of it alot (and you admit that he is cute (even with that uniform on))

the girls behind you giggle as they see him, steve hiding in the backroom with robin because they are quite literally terrified (and embarrassed to be seen by such a popular group) of you.

though, your eyes set sweetly on eddie as you smile warmly.

“h-hi,” he stammers, his voice cracks a little and he just curses himself in his head for sounding like a fuckin dork.

you giggle, “hi,” you twirl your hair, “i didn’t know you worked here..”

eddie chuckles nervously, “e-yeah, gotta earn money somehow..”

you smile, knowing what he does on the side, but choose not to comment on it anyway.

“right, well, can i get a strawberry milkshake, please? small. annn’...that’s all!” you bite your bottom lip, bouncing a little on your heeled feet.

eddie clears his throat, “y-yeah, sure.” and you smile, turning back around to talk to your friends.

he turns to face the blender, beginning to make your drink, muttering a small, “fuck,” his eyes clenched shut as he cringes at his lack of game. you chatter away with your friends, most of them fawning over you (because...who wouldn’t?). but you just thank them kindly, or respond with a nice compliment to them back.

that’s what eddie liked about you. you were kinda mean..fiesty-- but never have you made fun of someone that didn’t deserve it. you were nice. nice to his friends in Hellfire, but most importantly, you were nice to him.

once your milkshake is done, he rings the bell on the counter with jest, his arm extended out in front of him. you turn around, and he swears he feels like he’s gonna pass out by the smell of your shampoo that makes him weak. how do you smell so fucking good?

you giggle, biting your bottom lip before you drag your tongue across the whipped cream, humming exaggeratedly at the test.

yeah, he’s definitely gonna pass out. he smiles, a breathy laugh falling from his lips as his eyes watch your glossy lips move.

“so,” you say slowly, “uhm, how much do i owe you?”

your eyes wide, a small flirtatious smile settling on your lips--and immediately, eddie can’t think properly.

“d-don’t worry about it,” he stutters out, and you tilt your head like a small puppy. “’s on the house.”

you smile wide and gasp softly. “really?” your voice is high, and--so so nice.

eddie nods quickly, his eyes flipping from your lips to your eyes.

“thanks!” you say, and your friends laugh girlishly, squealing.

you give him a little wriggle of your fingers as he watches you walk away, his hand waving back slightly.

he’s sick with love until he hears Robin clear her throat behind the break room’s counter.

“shit.” eddie mumbles, turning around to face the smiling girl.

“yeah, ‘shit’, is right; your game sucks, dude.”

“also, you gonna be the one to cover for her order? because, neither of us are gonna be doing that for you, buddy.” steve speaks behind robin, hands on his hips as a shit-eating grin creeps up on his face.

“don’t worry ‘bout it,” eddie grits out, annoyed. “i’ll pay for it,, i got it.”

“good, because i’m not covering for you, man..”

“ah, don’t worry steve, eddie’s gonna be covering two things: y/n’s drink order and the front of his pants..”

eddie quickly looks down, his eyebrows furrowed as he realizes that he has a fucking semi..

jesus, fu--

“sooo.. do you needa take a small bathroom break to fix your..situation?” she smile smugly, gesturing her hand to eddie’s crotch-area. steve’s laugh is boisterous from behind her at the white board.

“fuck, fuck, fuck! i hate you guys, this is all your fault--fuck!” eddie’s hands immediately cover himself, as he pushes the door open to the break room, flipping both robin and steve off when they laugh, as he tries to find the nearest bathroom to fix his...issue.

“God, i love working here..” robin sighs, wiping tears from her eyes. steve nods in agreement, and the pair burst out laughing again.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x bimbo!reader #eddie munson x popular!reader #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #obsessed!eddie munson #perv!eddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff

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dancingtotuyo · 5 months

Text

Kryptonite | Dave York x Reader | One Shot

Rating: EXPLICIT/Mature

Summary: Running into Dave York changes your life and unleashes a new part of yourself.

Inspired by Kryptonite by 3 Doors Down

Tags: dark!Dave York, infidelity, Germany, song fic

Warnings: infidelity, violence and descriptions of violence, death (not Dave or reader), descriptions of blood, murder, self defense, explicit smut (p in v), oral sex (both m & f receiving), heavy groping, choking, smacking/hitting in a sexual manner, knife play, power dynamics, use of “daddy” in a sexual manner (minimal), consensual sex, possible dub con, cream pie

Notes: I wrote this one for the LOML @janaispunk for Christmas 🫶, though you won’t find it filled with Christmas festivities! Huge shout out to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for listening to my ideas, reading through it, and being an overall huge encourager!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PAY EXTRA ATTENTION TO WARNINGS ON THIS ONE

Words: 7160

THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT AND DARK THEMES. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR THOSE UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT

“I took a walk around the world to ease my troubled mind.”

Dave York isn’t a bad guy. If one were to give him a chance, he would explain how he’s actually one of the good guys. He’s simply standing up for those who have been wronged by the fucked up system that abandoned the ones who do the dirty work. It’s all conjecture. How he rationalizes it all away. How he lets himself sleep at night, and go home to his wife and beautiful daughters. He does this for them. He isn’t a bad guy.

Yet, even he starts to see through his bullshit. He won’t admit it, but it’s getting harder to sleep at night. Tonight is one of those nights. That’s how he finds himself wandering the streets of a German city he can’t remember the name of.

The air is just verging on chilly, the breeze whipping at his typically well-kempt hair. He usually keeps to the shadows when he’s managing his side business, worried about being picked up on a camera, but it’s late now. He keeps out of the street lights, the stars shielded by the light pollution.

He inhales deeply. This time tomorrow he’ll be on a flight back to the States and slide into bed next to his wife. He’ll wake up, make lunch for the girls, and take them to school. The perfect all-American family. Dave loves them. His girls are his world. He is doing this for them. Every smile and giggle makes this all worth it. Alice and Molly deserve the world. Sometimes, he wonders if his wife knows. Carol hasn’t said anything, but sometimes he catches her just staring at him. Logic says she just loves him. How many times early on in their life together had he done the same thing? How long has it been since he looked at her with that awe?

If he’s honest, Dave doesn’t give his marriage much thought anymore. It’s something that’s just there like two planets orbiting each other but never intersecting. It’s something that’s just part of the persona of Dave York. The version of him his friends and family know. He is starting to wonder if that man still exists. He’s found himself feeling freer during his “work trips” than he does at home.

If it weren’t for his girls…

Dave can’t finish the thought as he collides with a woman in a blue dress and billowing feather boas wrapped around her neck. You.

“Oh shit!” Dave’s hands shoot out, steadying your form, one on each shoulder.

You let out a soft snort quickly covering it with a giggle. “Oh my god.” You try to sober but fail before another giggle takes over. You buzz with the carefree energy of someone a couple drinks into the evening but not wasted.

Any words forming in Dave’s head die there. Your eyes sparkle with mischief. Your smile leaves him stunned. He’s seen his fair share of women even as a married man, but never crossed the boundary of infidelity. Dave doesn’t label what is about to happen as infidelity because right now he isn’t Dave York from Arlington, Virginia, father to two and husband. Right now, he’s Dave York private gun for hire, or Patrick Smith born in Pennsylvania if you looked at his passport.

“I’m sorry,” you say. Dave’s hands don’t move from your shoulders. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Dave flashes a smile, the same one he used to pick up Carol years ago, but she’s the furthest thing from his mind right now. “I should be more aware of my surroundings. Especially with such a beautiful woman about.”

Your cheeks flush with heat. He has a sneaking suspicion that it’s not from the alcohol in your system. Dave has never been above sweet-talking to get his way during his time with the agency. “You’re American.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Dave winks. You laugh. Dave swears he could listen to that sound every day if given the chance. “But are you with anyone? It’s late. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you out here all alone.”

You tilt your head to the side, life glowing in your eyes. Whether you’re always like this or it’s all alcohol-induced, Dave doesn’t know, but he wants to find out. He needs to know.

“And I’m supposed to trust you, Mr. America.”

He chuckles, looking up at the sky for a moment before bringing his gaze back to you. He can’t stop taking you in. You feel like a breath of fresh air in his stifling life. He smiles, the first time he’s felt fully himself in possibly years. “My name is Dave.”

You glance between his hand and his face, sussing out if he is trustworthy. He seems so, comes across as genuine. He’s a bit older than you, but handsome nonetheless with big brown eyes and the sincerity of a well-raised child.

You inhale deeply, choosing to be a little wreckless for once and jump head first into something. What’s the worst that could happen? You take his hand.

“I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon.”

It’s probably a stupid choice, but Dave gives you his number. His real number. He doesn't have enough time to see you again before he leaves Germany and he isn’t ready to let this go yet. He escorts you safely to your apartment, chatting idly over the 10-minute walk and the 30 minutes you spend on the front stoop. As he goes to leave, you stand on tiptoes, pressing your lips against his. In return, he pushes you against the front door, hands roaming up your sternum. You giggle at him like a smitten schoolgirl and hand him your phone.

Dave has a second number. He could’ve given you that one. He probably should have, but he wants easier access. He risks it. Dave is not a careless man, but he leans into the easiness of it in the moment. He kisses you again before leaving, much more chastely this time. He promises to see you next time he’s in town. He tells you he does business in Germany often. It won’t be long.

His veins buzzed with electricity the whole walk back to his apartment, his body alive in a way that feels almost supernatural. As he crosses the threshold, his phone pings with a text from an unknown number. Dave knows who it is before he looks at the text.

Over the next two weeks, Dave finds himself instantly reaching for his phone with each ping. The time difference is a pain in the ass but sometimes works in Dave’s favor. Like when Carol is sound asleep and you’re wide awake across the sea.

When the call comes through from a contact that they’re ready to move in on a target in Germany, Dave almost jumps up in celebration. He’s never hit the tarmac with his bags packed so fast. He tacks on a couple extra days to visit you.

Those extra days can’t come soon enough. He always prides himself on his ability to compartmentalize. He can tune out the rest of the world, get a job done with the precision of the assassin he is, and return to life as if nothing happened, but this time, he finds himself rushing through the process, eager to get to the finish line, eager to get to you.

However, when the night of the hit comes, he slips right into Dave York The Killer, cold, heartless, robotic. The crew is smaller this trip, the target not as high profile, but still a big payout. He forces himself to stay steady, forces himself not to speed through his progressions. The team doesn’t notice a difference in him. He takes that as a good sign. The target is asleep, alone, thank god.

Dave slides the knife into the victim’s chest. He’s lying if he says he doesn’t find a particular beauty in it. The firm pressure, the slice of the knife, the crimson blood. It’s always a rush, the planning, the practice, the kill, and Dave enjoys it all. This particular hit sends an extra rush of pleasure through his veins.

He takes the train to get to you, fighting the urge to show up on your doorstep in the wee hours of the morning. Dave York is not a patient man, but he somehow manages, pacing his hotel room still as he buzzes with the high of the night’s hit and the excitement of seeing you in the morning. You recommended meeting at a small cafe, but as Dave lays awake with the sun peeking through the curtains, he decides to surprise you at the apartment.

Dave has to force himself not to rush, which seems to be becoming a theme with him. He makes himself a cup of coffee in the hotel room and sits down drinking every drop until he can’t stand to wait any longer, leaving his hotel 30 minutes before he needs to.

Dave could’ve taken time to enjoy the city in daylight. He spends so much of his time in these destinations under the cover of darkness, missing the beauty, but he doesn't. He wants to believe he keeps to his training, keeping an eye out for someone following him and staying out of the view of cameras, but the truth is, he’s completely unaware of it all. His sole purpose is to get to you.

When your apartment building comes into view, he finally slows, aware of how early he is. Hell, he’s supposed to meet you there.

One of your curtains is open, giving him a faraway view into your apartment. Dave has fully accepted that he’s verging into creep territory, but he doesn’t care. It’s been two weeks since he’s laid eyes on you. That’s two weeks too long for him.

He holds his breath, waiting in anticipation for a glimpse of you, patience dwindling within a few minutes of waiting. The anticipation grows into anxiety. Did he come to the wrong building? That’s impossible. Dave never forgets places, even if he did, he would never forget yours. Are you home? Did you forget? He studies the window searching for any evidence of life. Has something happened to you? Oh god, has someone connected the two of you? Figured out his whole facade? He has half a mind to break down the door and go in guns blazing.

His phone pings. It’s the only thing that could break his concentration. Your name pops up, granting him instant relief.

See you in 20?

He smiles, glancing back up toward the window. You are okay. Everything is okay because Dave is a smart man. He knows how to cover his tracks, and you are a sacred treasure he wants to keep all to himself. He will hide you away, protect you from it all.

He catches the subtle flutter of the curtains. The world around him becomes nonexistent as his full attention is pulled toward the window. She moves into view, head whipping around as you search for a specific item. He smiles, all of the anxiety leaving his body.

Instead of responding via text, he hits the call button. The dial tone plays against his ear. She moves out of view, no doubt searching for her cell.

“Hello?”

A smile overtakes his face. Dave can’t remember the last time one did so effortlessly. “Look out your window, Darling.”

His voice sits low in his chest, sending shivers through your body. You pull back the curtain. Dave waves down below. “Are you stalking me now?”

“It’s not stalking if you showed me where you live.”

You bite back your smile, heat gathering in your cheeks. “We were supposed to meet there.”

“I couldn’t wait.”

“Give me two minutes.” You say and the line goes dead.

Dave watches you zip away from the window. The swinging of the curtains is the only indication you were ever there. His chest tightens as he waits. Dave York considers himself a patient man, but he checks his watch for the 5th time in two minutes.

Then your door swings open. You come barreling toward him, a smile plastered to your face. It’s contagious as Dave chuckles, spinning you around like an episode of The Bachelor. His lips are warm against your cheek. “I’ve missed you, darling.”

A shiver runs down your spine as your feet plant on the ground. Dave’s warm brown eyes meet yours. “How can you miss someone you’ve hardly seen?”

“How can someone not miss you?” He laughs, fingers weaving with yours.

“You lie, Dave.”

“I could never lie to you.” He winks.

Dave holds your hand all the way to the cafe. He pays for your meal. He’s engaging, charming, making conversation, desperate to know everything he can about you. You’ve never felt such intention from another person.

After the cafe, you walk through town, hand in hand in broad daylight. The conversation continues to flow as naturally as a river. Dave is captivated. There’s no other word for it. He wants you. He never wants to leave. He thinks he may need you for survival.

You steer your steps toward your apartment. There’s a time and a place for subtlety. Today is not that. Dave picks up on it, catching the dilation of your pupils, feeling the shift between you.

But when you make it to the door, Dave plays the gentleman, asking when he can see you again. You cut him off with a kiss, tongue quickly delving into his mouth. His large hands plant solidly on your hips. You pull him inside. Dave remains respectful, but commanding. You eagerly submit to him. He stays the night.

“After all I knew it had to be something to do with you.”

Dave is losing it. One might argue that’s a bad thing. He’s not so sure as his mind is overrun with flashes of you. He’s quick to check his phone each time it dings. He knows better than to assign you a specific tone, but he wants to, even knows which one he would choose.

His team is building quite the reputation in the gun for hire business. They’re turning down jobs, having to play the cautious game of balancing their time between murder and families. They can’t arouse suspicions. They take turns staying stateside, sending in different crews depending on the job and need. Dave accepts every job within a quick train ride of you. He goes on each one. Sometimes it’s just him. Those are the easiest. He doesn’t even need to tell the team. It makes it easy to slip in, add more red to his ledger, and run to you with his hands dripping, metaphorically of course.

He can never stay more than the weekend, usually no more than a night, but you take every moment. He’s a drug you crave, an addiction you can’t kick. In fact, you don’t want to. It doesn’t matter if you never get more than a stolen night here and there, you’ll take whatever you can get running your hands over his toned muscles, tracing the scars littered over his body, some new and red, some old and faded.

It gives him an air of danger that sends a rush through you each time, like there’s darkness embedded in each scar and it seeps into you. The feeling should unnerve you. It doesn’t.

You want to ask, but you bite your tongue. They seem almost glaring compared to the person you know. Dave is sweet and gentle. The most violence you’ve seen in him is the intense fly hunt you went on last weekend as it buzzed intently around the two of you on the couch. You wonder about the stories behind each nonetheless. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.

He leaves again. He always does with the promise of returning soon. He can’t give you a date. He never can. His phone rings as he walks out the door. You catch the flash of a couple on his screen and a woman’s name drops from his lips. He doesn’t know you see it. Carol.

“But still your secrets I will keep”

You’re drenched. Sweat gathers across your naked skin. Dave thrusts into your dripping pussy, cock soaked in your juices. Your moans marry together, echoing off the walls of your apartment at 2 o'clock on a Thursday afternoon.

You called out of work when he appeared on your doorstep without a warning. He seemed broody, crashing his lips onto yours with more force than you were used to, setting your body ablaze in a new way.

Dave’s hips snap into yours with greater force than usual, his grip a little tighter, but it doesn’t hurt. Not how you expect it to. You like it, this rough side, the way his large hand pins both your arms to the mattress. “You’re taking me so good, Darling. Like a good little girl.”

His words strike a chord within you. Your walls tighten around him. You’re close. You know it. He knows it. His fingers run through your sopping folds, flicking at your clit with skill and precision. Your back arches. You feel like you need to crawl out of your skin. “I’m almost there.”

“I know, baby.” He keeps pace, pushing you closer and closer.

The invisible line snaps as waves of pleasure roll over your body. Dave keeps going, so close to his own release. He’s relentless, prolonging your own orgasm.

“I want to finish inside you. Fill you up like a dirty little whore.” Your cunt clenches around him. You’re not sure why his words affect you the way they do, but you love it. He moans. “Please, Darling.”

“Yes,” You hiss, feeling as if your orgasm has started over. “Please, fill me up.”

“Fuck!” Dave thrusts into you. Once. Twice. And then he buries himself into you, filling you with every drop he has.

Once the high settles to a mild thrum and you’ve cleaned up, you sit on the bed, fresh sheets below you, watching Dave as he gathers his things off your dresser. The sex was different this time, good, mind altering.

Dave has yet to put a shirt on. There’s a scar along his back that disappears beneath the waistband on his jeans. You’ve seen it before. You know all his scars, and you’re gathering his secrets too.

“I hope that wasn’t too much,” Dave says, back still turned to you. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he turns to you, with worried eyes. You saw a piece of him today that no one has seen before. Of that, you have no doubt.

“No, I liked it.” A small smirk quirks your lips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to trying some new things.” Heat pools in your belly again. That same darkness flashes in Dave’s eyes. You want to pull it out and learn it.

He chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind for later.”

He pulls on his shirt, turning his phone back on. Your heart drops, popping the bubble. “You can’t stay.”

Dave sighs. You catch the guilt hanging off of him. “I’m sorry, Darling.”

“It’s okay…”

Dave bites his lip. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise. I-”

“I know you’re married.” It rolls off your lips without a second thought. You’re not sure where it comes from.

Dave’s face pales, tongue going dry as sandpaper. “Darling-”

“And I don’t care.”

The color fills his face again as he steps over to you. “How do you know?”

You shrug, laying back on the bed. “She called you when you were leaving last time. I did my research, Dave York.”

Dave isn’t sure what to think. In his line of work, it’s scary to know you found him on the internet. It’s a safety issue. If something ever happened to Molly and Alice… but he’s trusted you with much more than anyone else.

“You mean it? You don’t care?” He searches your eyes for any doubt, but finds none.

“You’re the one traveling across the ocean to see me. I also think you’re not just ‘working for the government’.”

There’s a deep growl low in his throat. He oozes evil like your favorite book to movie villain, sending shivers through your body. He cups your neck, using force to pull your lips to his. It’s hot and needy like he didn’t just spend the afternoon buried inside of you. His tongue shoves its way into your mouth, fighting with yours. He grabs your ass kneading it in his palms.

Then, he pulls away, voice gravely in your ear. “One of these days I’m going to tell you every single evil thing I’ve done, and you’re going to like it.”

You gasp, toes curling. He keeps eye contact with you, searching for any sign that you might reject him for it. You don’t ask. You don’t scoff. You believe him. You’ve seen the slivers of evil before, felt them. You’re beginning to wonder if they’ve seeped into you too.

Then he’s gone, disappearing like a ghost.

“I picked you up and put you back on solid ground.”

Adrenaline pumps through your veins. Your heart pounds in your ear. You can’t tell much in the dark, except there’s a man in your apartment, clad in black, and it’s not Dave.

You clutch the kitchen knife to your chest, thankful for Dave’s obsession with keeping things sharp. His boots are steady on your hardwood floors, leaving you to wonder if you’re safe huddled in the corner, or if you should sneak up behind him. Dave taught you to attack only if you are sure you can land a debilitating blow by surprise. You’re not a trained fighter. You’re not an assassin. You’re pretty sure Dave is.

Then, you see your chance. A small opportunity where you know you’ll be hidden in the darkness, not exposed by the open window. You know which floor boards to avoid.

You expect it to go by in a blur, but your mind feels clear. The exposed point on his neck calls to you like a beacon. The artery. He’ll bleed out before he knows what’s happening. Dave’s voice echoes in your head.

Your knife sinks into his neck, slicing skin and tissue like it’s softened butter. You pull the knife out, it drips with crimson blood. He tumbles forward, your lamp shattering into a million tiny pieces as he falls forward.

“You bitch!” He manages to his feet, blood spurting out of his neck. He tries to cover it with his hand, but he’s already losing color in his face. He stumbles toward you. You easily step out of his path, sinking the knife into his chest cavity. It’s more difficult, but you know when you hit his lung.

You watch him fall to the floor, air wheezing from him like a punctured balloon as he coughs and sputters. He’s trying to speak, but can’t. You cock your head to the side, watching it happen, watching the life drain from his eyes, listening to his final breaths. You did that. You took down a man bigger than yourself with two quick blows, without hesitation.

You can feel the thick, red blood dripping off your fingers, soaking into your clothes.Your chest heaves. The knife clatters to the floor. You turn your hands over. You should want this off of you, scratching at the skin to remove it. Instead, you just stare in awe.

Dave appears, heart racing as he takes in the scene. He was gone for only a few hours. A quick job in a neighboring town. “Darling?”

You don’t respond, still inspecting your coated hands. He puts a hand on your shoulder, desperate to know that you’re okay. You jump, eyes blow wide.

“What happened?”

“I don't know. I woke up and he was here… I just- I did what you taught me.”

Your eyes focus on him. He’s in weird clothes- tactical gear. He probably killed someone tonight too.

“Are you okay?”

Your eyes snap back down to your hands. Are you okay? You don’t remember getting hit or knocked over, just the steel blade sinking into flesh over and over and over.

“Darling, look at me!” His hand wraps around your neck and your back hits the wall.

Your eyes snap to him. Your heavy breaths mingle together in the deafening silence that coats your apartment. His eyes are dark. Darker than you ever remember seeing them. You think, maybe, there’s a hint of cruelty floating in them.

“You’re okay.” His eyes scan over you to assure himself as well. He reminds himself that blood is not yours.

Your eyes drift back toward the body. The body that used to house a person with a life and family and-

“Look at me.” Dave’s voice is commanding, forcing obedience. The other side of him is coming out. This is not the Dave you know. It’s the one you’ve caught glimpses of. The one he told you about. This Dave is a monster. A monster you should run from.

“You did nothing wrong. He would’ve killed you.” His hand presses into your neck again. “You did the right thing.”

You thought this moment would break you, losing your Dave, but this Dave is yours too. You thought the monster would scare you. It’s everything you’ve ever stood against, but you want the monster.

A thrill shoots through you, unlocking a deep urge. The world should be blurry, hazing like the TV shows when someone experiences a trauma, but it’s buzzing around you instead. Your senses feel heightened.

Dave says your name. You look up at him. Time stands still. He knows you know. It’s a question of if you will accept it. You shouldn’t. You’re too good for him. He shouldn’t tarnish you, but he catches that look. It’s everything he feels after a kill. The adrenaline rush, the buzz of life through your veins. Maybe he didn’t tarnish you. Maybe he unlocked something in you. Your bloodied hands tangle in his thick hair as he surges forward lips colliding with yours.

This is wrong, so wrong. Another man’s blood is literally on your hands as they tangle in Dave’s hair. You should be disgusted with yourself. This is wicked. You’ve run from the wickedness your entire life. Now you feel like you should have embraced it. He bites your lip, so hard there’s a metallic taste in your mouth. It only spurs you on. A familiar ache grows in your core. Your teeth nash against his, meeting each of his tortuous movements.

His hand squeezes your neck just enough to make your head go dizzy. You should hate this. You should despise this, but your cunt clenches again. “You like that don’t you?”

He loosens his hold, the blood rushing back quickly. It’s a new rush, crashing over the edges of your heightened senses. You feel as if every nerve ending in your body is on fire and you never want it to stop.

His rough voice presses to your ear as he caresses your exposed neck reminding you how fragile your own life is. “The little slut likes when I get rough.”

You whimper at his words, your underwear growing wetter with each passing second. His knee presses between your thigh, granting some tension to your aching core. You move your hips against it. “Not so fast, Darling.” He tightens his grip on your neck, pressing you further against the wall. “You think just because you killed him you’re in charge now?”

Another whimper falls from your lips. An involuntary tear seascapes the corner of your eyes, beginning its descent. Dave’s eyes flicker to it, head cocking to the side. His eyes look different- wild verging on insane. You should be scared, but it’s still Dave. You trust him. Then his tongue is against your cheek, wiping it away with a long, slow swipe. Your nipples pearl under your thin nightshirt.

He whispers in your ear. “I'm in charge. Do you understand?”

You nod.

“Good.”

He produces a knife out of thin air. It’s one you’ve seen before. He’s sharpened it at your kitchen counter. He brushes the tip along your collarbone. Your eyes track its every movement. It’s not enough to cut you, but enough that you can feel how sharp it is. Your heart thuds harder, but your hips move against his knee of their own accord.

He clicks his tongue, forcing the knife down in a single swift movement. You cry out, expecting to feel pain, only to find your chest exposed and your nightshirt torn down the middle. He hand gropes your breast, squeezing it like a stress ball. A gasp falls from your lips as his finger runs over your nipple.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

By your neck, he leads you in front of him to the bathroom. He kicks the door shut, pressing you against it. He produces the knife again, running it through your pajama shorts. The scraps fall to the floor, leaving you in the delicate lace pair of underwear you wore in anticipation of Dave’s arrival.

His tongue clicks appreciatively. The tip of the knife traces over the lace. You whimper, eyes falling closed. He falls to his knees.

“So pretty.” Dave presses his mouth to your clothes cunt. He works his tongue over the thin fabric, pulling it between his teeth. It’s just enough to tease and not enough to provide relief.

“Dave.” It comes out so hoarse you don’t recognize your own voice.

He grins up at you, pulling the knife through your underwear with a rehearsed flick of his wrist. They join your shorts on the floor. You’re bared to him while Dave is fully clothed.

You catch the blood in his hair, splattered on his clothes. It’s drying on your skin now. You know you should be repulsed by it, but the thought of what you did still makes you buzz to life.

“Stay right there.” He eases to his feet. “I mean it. Don’t move.”

He turns on the shower, pushing the hot water all the way. As steam starts to fill the room, Dave removes his clothing item by item. He’s not making a show of it per se, but he is commanding, concise. He pulls another knife from his belt and sets it on the counter. Your breath catches and he makes eye contact. A whisper of a smirk plays on his lips. “Standing so still for me, darling.” You squeeze your legs together, feeling the familiar squelching between your vaginal lips.

You eye the knife a moment longer, biting your lip. Something about it calls out your name. You’re not sure if you should grab it and find the nearest person to plunge it into or if you want Dave to use it with you, on you.

Dave catches the glimmer in your eyes as you eye it. A newfound excitement tugs in his belly. A whole new world is opening before him. One where he doesn’t have to hide all this shit from you, one where you might enjoy it too. You’re not shutting down after killing that man, his body cooling on your living room floor. You liked it. He likes it.

He kicks off his boots and socks. His pants follow. Your eyes travel over his body. The scars make sense now. You still don’t know what Dave does, but you know it’s bad. There’s a small band across his ankle that houses another knife. You should hate him for all of this, kick him to the curb. Instead, your cunt is soaking, and you’re not sure you’ve ever wanted him more.

He chuckles as you eye the knife on his ankle. It’s the only thing he wears other than his briefs now. His dick bulges, usually pulling your attention, put you can’t pull your eyes away from the knife.

Pulling off his underwear, Dave comes back over to you, pressing his body against yours. His teeth scrape over the veins of your neck and he bites down on your earlobe as his hand tangles in your hair.

You release a soft yell. You barely recognize the man in front of you, but it doesn’t matter.

He grips your thigh, hiking it over his hip, running his dick through your sopping cunt.

“You like my knives, Darling?”

You nod as pleasure plays like a movie across your body.

He gips your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Use your words.”

“Yes.” It barely comes out.

His brows raise in amusement. “Would you like me to use them?”

“You won’t hurt me.” You say it as a statement.

Flashes of his softer side show before he clamps them down. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Yes.” It’s almost a yell.

Without hesitation, he grabs the knife off the vanity, pressing it to your neck. “On your knees.”

You obey coming face to face with his hard cock. The knife stays against your delicate flesh.

“You know what to do, baby.”

Again, you obey, taking it into your mouth. The knife is cool against your neck, the only reminder it’s still there. You don’t know how it never pierces your flesh either by dumb luck or expert skill.

Dave’s hips thrust forward, almost triggering your gag reflex. Tears fall from your eyes. Curses sputter from Dave’s lips as he uses your mouth. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You breathe from your nose, forcing yourself to nod.

“Shit!” Dave curses, pulling out of your mouth. “I’m going to paint that pretty pussy of yours.”

Your cunt clenches as a small moan tumbles from your lips. He chuckles, hand closing around your neck once more as he ushers you into the shower.

The water is hot, burning against your skin as if it might melt your skin off. Dave holds you under the water. Your breath catches as your body screams out. The water beneath you runs red as the blood washes from your skin.

Your back hits the cool tile wall granting relief from the scalding water. He lathers soap over the parts of your body still stained red, fingers occasionally brushing under your breasts, tweaking nipples.

“You’re so beautiful, darling. Even covered in blood.”

You whimper again, senses overloaded from the trauma, the rush, the teasing. “Dave, please.”

“Please what? You have to use your words, Doll.”

Your walls constrict again, desperate to be around something. Your arms and legs are heavy with need. He’s never used that term with you before. It should be degrading. It is, but it sets another wave of pleasure. You wonder if it’s possible to orgasm virtually untouched. If it is, you’re close.

“Fuck me.”

His tongue clicks as he floats around yours, almost taunting you. He grabs your boob, hard enough it should hurt. It does a little, but pleasure overrides the pain.

“Ask nicely, Doll.”

His finger trails over your collarbone traveling between your breasts and down across your hip. Your thighs squeeze. His palm slips around as he grabs the back of your thigh, kneading it.

“I said.” His words come out like a punch. Concise. Almost sharp. “Ask. Nicely.” He pushes your thigh over his waist, forcing your supportive leg to your tiptoes.

You feel his cock near your entrance, brushing your pussy lips. You moan, hips bucking. He pushes against your neck, running your head into the tiles behind you. “You little slut. You think you can just take it.”

You gasp. “Please.”

“What do you want?”

“I want your cock inside me, Daddy.” It tumbles out of your lips before your brain catches up.

He thrusts his cock into you, sheathing himself fully, hitting the deepest parts of you. Then he’s gone, making you feel empty but only for a second until he enters you again. His hand squeezes tighter around your neck. You come for air as he continuously splits you apart thrust by thrust, pulling out almost fully each time.

Your moans are loud, drowned out by the steaming shower. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes. Dave pays you little mind, shows little care as he continues with a brutality you’ve never encountered, a brutality that only makes you soak his cock. He doesn’t slow. You don’t want him to. He never touches your clit, but you're propelling forward, chasing that high in a way you never have.

The pitch of your voice steps up. The spasm starts in your stomach traveling down to your core as you flutter around Dave’s cock. Your supporting leg shakes. Still, he never eases up, working you through your orgasm.

It hits you like a punch to the gut, a scream piercing the air. Your scream. Dave doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stutter. He keeps pace, chasing his own release.

With each thrust, you yell. You hear the squelching of your sopping cunt against his dick over the roar of the shower. His continuous movements extend your release until he finally buries himself inside you, coating your pussy with his cum. “Such a perfect little doll for me.”

You let out a final whimper as he pulls around, dropping your leg. Your knees buckle. You barely keep yourself upright, legs tingling and shaking.

Dave kisses your cheek. The softness causes a sense of whiplash. He glances over your body, making sure the blood is cleared from your skin and hair. He rinses the blood from his hair as your brain slowly returns to the world. You expect to be exhausted, and you are, but there’s still that low buzz deep within your body.

You killed a man. You took a life. You should feel bad. There’s a fucking body in your living room, but all you can think about is the rush. You liked it. Watching Dave, you wonder if he feels the same way. There’s no doubt to you that he’s taken lives before. You wonder if he knows how many.

The water stops. Dave dries you off with the soft bath towel. He helps you into his soft white t-shirt and tucks you into bed.

“I need to make a call.” He kisses your head and shuts himself in your bathroom. You hear him on the phone, but his words are muffled by the door.

You lay on your back, sheets cool against your hot skin. Staring at the ceiling, you can still feel the blood dripping from your hands, hear the piercing of the knife. You heart rate picks up. What would it be like to do that again? Would you feel the same rush of adrenaline? Would it feel better?

Dave comes out, tossing his cell on the nightstand and sliding under the covers. His hand covers yours.

“What about…?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s taken care of.”

You don’t ask. He probably knows people. His fingers drift over your cheeks and jaw. They skim lower, following the same path down your neck as your arteries. They feel cool against your skin, drawing patterns where you anticipate bruises tomorrow.

“Did I hurt you?”

He’s almost back to the Dave you know, soft and kind, but you still catch the edges of his dark side. He’s more of a blend now. You think you might be getting the real, true Dave now.

“No,” you shake your head. There was pain. You’ll be sore tomorrow, sport a few scrapes and bruises, but it doesn’t feel like he hurt you.

Dave kisses your forehead, fingers tracing your collarbone now. A question forms in your head, gnawing at the corners of your brain.

“Dave?”

“Hmmm?” He sees distracted, entranced as he follows his hand over your skin, skimming the tops of your breasts. Your nipples tighten making you curl your toes with a familiar tug of desire. How are you ready to go again after that?

“What if I liked it?”

His eyebrow quirks. “The sex?” he pinches your hardened nipple making you gasp.

“All of it?”

His palm stops. The pitch of his voice deepens. “All of it?”

You bite your lip, nodding.

“Use your words, Doll.” He cups your breath, teasing your nipple more. His breath is hot in your ear. “Tell me what you like.”

“I-” Can you really say this out loud? Will it blacken your soul? Or is it already charred and damned.

“Tell me.” He smacks your chest like a parent might smack their child’s hand away from an electrical outlet.

Your pussy clenches as you squeeze your legs together. He smacks your other breast in the same manner. You gasp, practically yelling out your answer. “Killing him.”

The air stands still. For a second, you expect a look of disgust to cross Dave’s face. Instead, a smirk grows. “You liked that?”

You nod, not able to say anything else. Dave climbs on top of you, kicking away the covers. He pushes his hand up your sternum, kneading your breast before running it back down. He repeats the motion, rotating between the two. Moans grow in your chest. He bites your earlobe.

“Did you like the way the knife slid into him?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Dave growls in your ear.

“Yes, Daddy,” you repeat between moans. Your sopping hole drips onto the sheets below you. Dave’s motions steadily grow in intensity.

“Did my doll like the way her body felt alive? Like you absorbed that bastard's energy.”

Tears drop from your eyes. You want him again. You need him again. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Does my doll want to do it again?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You practically scream. You should be ashamed of the answer. You should be ashamed that there isn’t an ounce of hesitation in your being.

“Fuck,” Dave says, shoving your legs apart. He pushes his cock inside you again. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll make sure you will.”

Dave moves inside you. It’s not as violent, not as torturous as earlier, but it’s just as satisfying. The promise of more ignites a fire inside of you.

Dave takes you to the brink, pushing you until you pass out from exhaustion, spent, used, and sated.

“I’ll keep you by my side with my superhuman might.”

When you wake up the next morning, the body is gone. The lamp you broke is replaced and a new area rug is delicately placed in your apartment. Not a speck or splatter of blood can be found anywhere. Dave stands in the kitchen gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He cooks eggs on the stovetop and a steaming cup of coffee sits on the counter.

You wrap your arms around him. He hums. His skin is warm beneath your cheek, heart beating against your palm. “I like the rug.”

“Me too.”

“Kryptonite”

#dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dark!dave york #dark!fic #pedro pascal #the equalizer 2

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jedijesi · 8 months

Text

Caught in the Cat's Web

Chapter 1

Felicia Hardy! Reader x Miguel O’Hara

Series Masterlist 🕸 Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, Sexual Tension, she/her pronouns

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Felicia Hardy, Black Cat, endures a nasty breakup with Peter Parker, and now with her new Spider-Powers, she must navigate the Spider society and meet their esteemed leader.

Co-writer: @stclairesplace

A/N: This a Felecia Hardy Self Insert, beyond her classic platinum hair color, no descriptive terms are used! Insert yourselves, loves! This is my first Miguel fic, enjoy!

New York, Earth-194

“No, Peter! I- I can’t keep fighting for us if you’re just gonna run back to MJ every time!” Felicia sobbed.

“We were just talking about our relationship!” Peter yells in defense.

Felicia's hands come up to her forehead, smoothing out her platinum hair back in frustration. “You said it was over, Peter! You don’t need to continue to talk to her, especially not at 8:30 on a Friday in a restaurant! The same restaurant you took me to last week, by the way, for our 6 month anniversary!”

“It doesn’t matter, Felicia! Nothing happened!” Peter runs his fingers through his hair pacing back and forth in frustration.

“No! You- you lied to me, you told me you didn’t have feelings for her anymore.” Felicia breaks out into more tears, blinding her. “I don’t want to be ‘the other woman’ anymore, Peter. I won’t be. I can’t keep waiting for you, hoping you’ll finally look at me the way you look at MJ. I’m done.”

Before Peter could say another word, the sound of Felicia’s grappling hook cut him off. In an instant, Felicia goes back into her Black Cat persona, swinging through the New York Skyline.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been 3 weeks since the breakup. 3 weeks of crying, ice cream, and pajamas. Felicia had never taken a breakup hard, she’d always known her worth, but something about Peter Parker was different. It made no sense as to why it hurt so much. She’s been cheated on before, she’s watched partners come and go, but she was able to brush it off like it was nothing. Then stupid Peter Parker had to come and along, turn her into a hero, and break her heart.

By habit, the sound of sirens outside her apartment causes her to pause her show, and look at the Black Cat suit hidden behind the painting next to the window.

Felicia sighs, unable to decide if she should cry or scream. Ultimately, she decided to continue eating her ice cream, pushing the images of Spider-Man somewhere out there fighting crime.

Despite pushing her feelings away, a tear escapes her, sliding down her cheek. Suddenly, chills go down Felicia’s spine. She looks around the quiet apartment trying to figure out what was happening when her tear begins to slide back up her cheek and into the air. The empty pint and spoon along with various items follow suit, prompting Felicia to grab the gun and knife hidden under the couch.

A bright light emits in the middle of the living room, transforming into a colorful circular object. Felicia’s guard falls, recognizing the multi-dimensional portal.

“Woah! What’s with the guns?” Jessica Drew, questions as she emerges.

“You could have given me a heads up instead of scaring the shit out of me.” Felicia rolls her eyes before putting her weapons away.

“I told you, I’d come pick you up in a month.”

Felicia’s eyes widened in surprise. “It’s been a month since I’ve last seen you?!”

“Ahuh,” Jessica responds as she inspects the apartment. “Has it been a month since you’ve cleaned too?”

“Uh- 3 weeks, actually.”

Jessica whips her head around. “3 weeks?! What the fuck happened, girl!”

Felicia rolls her eyes. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Honestly, she didn’t have to. Jessica could see right through the broken-hearted girl. “You ready to go then?”

“I don’t think I can meet the boss man like this.” Felicia frowns, looking down at her oversized tee shirt stained with ice cream and various mysterious stains from her wallowing sessions.

Jessica nods, “Shower and change. I’ll help you clean up this shit.”

It took about an hour for Felicia to clean up and feel like herself again. After putting on her Black Catsuit, she looks into the mirror, smiling for the first time in 3 weeks, feeling like herself again.

Felicia emerges from her bedroom, finding Jessica standing in the middle of her cleaned-up apartment. “Holy shit, Jess!” She feels like she could cry.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome, hon, let’s go or I'll get a lecture.” Jessica hastily as she creates the portal.

Felicia’s been through multi-dimensional portals a few times before, but it’s still something she can barely get used to.

~~~~~~

Nueva York, Earth 838

Nueva York was bustling with life as heroes of the spider society swung and walked around. Felicia felt both excited and overwhelmed. It was hard walking into a world full of people who dressed, talked, and looked like her ex.

“Cat!” Jessica shouted across the hall to the distracted woman, pulling her out of her trance. “Move!”

Felicia scurried across the main hall, doing her best to weave between spider people. Once she caught up to Jessica, they made their way to the ‘big man’s office’ as Jessica puts it.

The two women entered the dark, grand office. Felicia spots a platform about 20 feet in the air with dozens of holographic screens filled with information and statistics. In the center stood the back of a blue and red man.

“Ahem!” LYLA appeared next to the tall man. “Your newest recruit is here.”

The platform slowly lowers but the man doesn't move. Instead, he touches the holographic screens, causing Felicia’s profile to appear.

“Felicia Hardy?”

Felicia was taken aback by his voice. She didn’t know what she was expecting but it wasn’t that. It’s a low, resonant tone that fills the air and commands respect and attention. It has a subtle vibration that conveys confidence and strength, and it's a sound that Felicia finds attractive and comforting. His voice has the power to evoke emotion and stir feelings of comfort and security.

Jessica nudges the woman beside her, yanking Felicia from her thoughts. “Yes, Sir.” She purrs, easing back into the Felicia Hardy she knows and loves.

“According to my data, you’re the first spider woman.” The platform touches the ground prompting the man to turn to look at Felicia.

She couldn’t help but admire the man’s build and height, thinking that the elevated perspective had made him appear bigger. “The one and only.” She smirks.

“Hmm…” The man thinks for a moment, admiring the beautiful woman in front of him. He’s seen and read about plenty of Felicia’s as they have been a big part in some Spider-Man’s lives. Yet, this Felicia seemed different. Her eyes sparkled and the way she carried herself radiated confidence. “I haven’t properly introduced myself. I’m Spider-man 2099, my name is Miguel O’Hara.” Miguel closes some distance, letting his mask retract to reveal his messy wavy head and stunning brown eyes.

“Felica.” She replies, making intense eye contact with the man.

Miguel slowly walks closer and begins to circle her like a vulture, studying his prey. “ According to your file, you only got your powers several months ago. Explain.”

“Long story short, my… Spider-Man and I infiltrated Oscorp. They were trying to replicate the serum and I ended up getting accidentally bit by one of their patients during the fight, but they’re all dead now, don’t worry.”

“Hmmm..” Miguel hummed as he inspected her suit. “Is this your spider suit?”

“I don’t need one.” Felicia crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow at the Spider-Man.

“If you want to join the spider society you do. What’s your call sign?”

“Black Cat.” Felicia side-eyes Miguel, predicting his thoughts.

“Jess,” Miguel looks over to the woman, now sitting in the corner. “Why waste my time?”

“Waste your time?!” Felicia snaps, turning to look at Miguel. “You need me!”

“Ahuh.” He rolls his eyes as his mask covers his face, unleashing Felicia's three weeks of pent-up rage.

“Listen here Spider-Man! I spent 4 months training my ass off, learning my powers, and proving to your little spider society that I’m worthy. I am not going to let you circle me and make assumptions about me based on my outfit and variants! I’ll fight you right now, and I’ll kick your ass!”

Miguel can’t help but make a small smirk at Felicia’s personality. Miguel steps closer tilting his head down so that his chin practically grazes his collarbone and lets his mask fade. Felica stands her ground looking directly up into his chocolate eyes with fiery determination. She wasn’t going to let some self-appointed leader tell her she wasn’t good enough.

Meanwhile, in the corner of the office, Jessica and LYLA watch the interaction with confusion. “What the fuck is happening?”

“I- I really can’t tell you.” LYLA replies. “There’s something there though.” LYLA pulls out her phone taking a picture of the two for future evidence or blackmail before glitching away.

Still withholding their gazes on each other Miguel eventually snaps out of it only to grumble. “LYLA, take Felicia to the tailor to make a suit.”. A short smirk makes it’s way on Felicia’s face, silently congratulating herself that she got her way. “We’ll start your training with the other spiders tomorrow morning. Bright and early. As for you ‘Black Cat’ let’s get one thing straight here…” Felicia raises her eyebrow in anticipation, her arms crossed over her chest, her cleavage poking through just enough in the black skin-tight suit adorning her body. “You may be used to playing by your own rules and whatnot but here, this is my playground. And what I say, goes.” He leans back against the small table behind him, his arms now also crossed over his chest, making it hard for Felicia not to notice the way his biceps and arms moved with each breath he took. “Do I make myself clear, gata?”

Felicia unfolds her arms and takes a step closer to Miguel, squaring her shoulders as if preparing for a fight. “Yes, Araña.”

“And start thinking of new names,” Miguel said before walking back to his desk with a smirk.

Chapter 2

A/N: Its good to be back! Please let me know what you think💕

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