#someone's gotta go up to them and shake them on their shoulders
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Sukuna hates how petty you can get when you’re fighting.
There is a part of him that loves your stubbornness, sure, like when you huff at him and make him work for your affection, but right now, you’re on day three of the silent treatment, and he’s losing it.
You enter a room and he’s already in it, you leave. You’re talking to yuuji and he comes in, you stop talking immediately. You haven’t been staying the night anymore, and you haven’t given him a kiss goodbye any time you’ve left. Even his ma is questioning what he did wrong, and he can’t give her a concrete answer.
He’s losing it.
Hes spammed texted you, he’s been trapping you in rooms by leaning in the doorframe, he’s been trying to get yuuji to be his messenger, but nothings working. You’re not biting.
“You’re over complicating this,” yuuji shakes his head and thumbing through channels. “Literally just apologize.”
“At this point I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for!”
“Well they’re on their way over, thinking you’re going to apologize, so you’d better figure it out.”
“You’ve been an immense help, thank you, asshole.”
As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door, and when Sukuna takes a deep breath and answers it, you nearly spin on your heel to leave.
“Oh I don’t think so,” he snips, grabbing your hand and pulling you in the house and trying not to focus on how you’re not even fighting against him, and that’s how indifferent you are to him. “We’re talking. Like it.”
“Hey dawg!” Yuuji cheers, clicking off the tv and waving. You wave back, your streak of not talking in front of Sukuna continuing. The younger chuckles, “I’ll let the adults duke it out. See ya!”
The room fills with silence as yuuji leaves, making Sukuna immensely uncomfortable. The way you’re looking at him has him uncomfortable, you’re making him so uncomfortable, and he just wishes you’d toss your pride to the side and talk to him and cuss him out or something.
“You look… good.”
Nothing.
“I’ve missed you.”
Nada.
“I made out with someone else because I got sick of you ignoring me.”
You scowl at him.
“Okay, I was lying. I was hoping you’d cuss me out.”
No dice.
“You’re acting like a fucking child!” He takes a deep breath in to try and ground himself, and you merely watch him with a hurt expression.
Okay. That didn’t help his situation.
“Fucks sake,” he grumbles, making a move to guide you backwards. He’s got you backed into a wall, hands on your shoulders while your arms stay nonchalantly crossed.
“I don’t get why you’re so mad at me; what did I even do?” He snaps, leaning close to your face threateningly.
You blink unamused.
Oh.
You’re gonna speak alright. He’s gonna make sure of it.
“Speak.”
You merely look him up and down and turn your head.
“Talk! Now!”
You let a tired exhale through your nose pass.
“I said i was sorry, and i know you know that was hard for me, why am i still being punished by you?” It’s bait to make you mad and talk, he knows he hasn’t apologized to the most sincere of his ability, but he hasn’t done anything wrong.
“Maybe I’ll tickle ya, how about that?”
That, does, have your eyes widening but you still don’t spare him a breath. He smirks, “I’d bet you’d hate that, huh? Holding in all that laughter and begs for me to stop, knowing I’m not going to until you talk to me… and I’ll do it too. You know that.”
You merely cross your arms over your chest tighter.
He shrugs, “you asked for it.”
And he’s gotta say, he’s impressed with how little you’re fighting back from him scooping you in his arms and tossing you on the couch, straddling you, even taking your two wrists in his massive paw and holding them above your head. Your lips wobble in anticipation, and he’s got you booked now. “Any last words? A quick ‘I hate you,’ maybe?”
You blink, bored, almost calling his bluff, and he comes up to smack his face in frustration. He wasn’t actually bluffing, he did have full intentions of making you scream, but he was so sure you’d crack under his gaze, even a quick kick to him as he was adjusting your body.
No dice.
With a shrug, hands come down quickly to tickle the meat of your ribs, settling in the dips and scratching at the bones maddeningly. He sees your lip become wobblier, and he smirks down at you. “Nothing? Not even a giggle? You must be pissed at me.”
You screw your eyes shut to ignore him and he clicks his tongue, “now you can’t even look at me? That sucks.”
He leans down to nibble at your neck and ear, whispering little words against your skin to make you squeak. But it isn’t until he cheats and uses his mouth to blow a raspberry on your sensitive neck, an area he’s so used to pressing loving kisses to, that you finally crack.
“YOURE SO CHEAP!” You scream, followed by a flurry of laughter and struggling from his tight hold. Your laugh is whiny and desperate, feet digging into the couch while his fingers merely slither up and under your arms.
He smirks against your skin, “gotcha.”
“Fuck off!” You squeal, tugging as hard as you can in his grasp. “Stohop it!”
“Are you gonna keep ignoring me?” He asks. You shake your head back and forth, but he cocks a brow. “Is that a no? Are we going to talk about your issues with me, or am I going to have to tickle you for the next few hours?”
“HOURS?!” You howl.
He shrugs, “you ignored me for three days, least I deserve is to tickle you until you sob.”
“I wasn’t-“ you’re cut off by a flurry of your own giggles. “This isn’t-“ a few more yowls of your laughter when he digs in more. “FUCK OFF!”
“Nah,” he snickers. “This is more fun.” He does, however, stop his torment and pulls back, but he does look down at you impatiently. “Speak,” he echos from earlier.
You let out a few more titters slip past your lips, but you do sober up slightly, “you don’t even care that I was mad at you.”
“Uh, I was about to tickle you until you died, I think I cared too much-“
“No, Sukuna. You just didn’t want me to be mad. You never apologized and you never even bothered to try and make it better…”
This, oddly, has Sukuna’s heart twisting, squeezed with emotions and realization that he did mess up, pride couldn’t save him now and if he wanted to fix this, he’d have to prove it.
He sighs in truce, “I’m sorry, babe.”
“….”
“What?”
“That’s it?”
He rolls his eyes, “what else do you want me to say?”
“I want you to care that I was hurt!” You whine, raising on your elbows. “I want you to understand I was hurt, that you messed up! Not be so prideful and not admit it!”
“Alright, alright, jeez,” he groans. He locks eyes with you, and he knows you’re not going to like it, but he leans down to kiss you, using his two hands to cup your jaw, letting his thumbs stroke your bone lovingly. “I’m sorry. It must’ve sucked having to deal with my shitty ass apologies before. I never should’ve pulled that shit, and I hated not having you by my side.”
This, has you softening.
He presses another kiss to you, “I missed your laughter. I missed you scolding me. I missed you being sarcastic… don’t pull that silent treatment shit again, will ya?”
You hum happily, “don’t piss me off and I won’t have to.”
He blinks unamused, and as the thought of tickling you again crosses his mind, you lean up to kiss his lips giggling softly in the warmth. “I’m kidding. You and I both know you’re not going to stop pissing me off.”
“Love when you answer your own demands,” he chuckles.
The tightness in his soul loosens as you submit to his affections, and he does make a mental note to never piss you off so bad again where you go back to happy to never talk to him again. He hates it more than even he knows, drags him down and he feels like he’s missing a crucial part of himself.
But it is good to know he can get you back out of that funk.
#sukuna#sukuna fluff#sukuna x reader#sukuna x gn!reader#sukuna x reader fluff#sukuna imagine#sukuna jjk#sukuna ryomen#sukuna ryomen fluff#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader fluff#sukuna ryomen x gn!reader#sukuna ryomen imagine#sukuna ryomen jjk#jjk#jjk fluff#jjk imagine#jjk x reader#jjk x reader fluff#jjk x gn!reader#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk x yn#jjk x y/n#jjk x you
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we (8 billion people) are begging for dom fem reader and coryo dynamic. Why she always gotta be sub like my dom ass would slap the shit out of him ong
ʙᴇɢɢɪɴ’ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴋɴᴇᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ !
Synopsis: Coriolanus will do anything to get to the top, right?
Content warning . power dynamics, loss of virginity, face riding, multiple orgasms, marking, sub!pussydrunk! Coryo, dom! Reader that’s a lil fucked up
notes: me when coryo has hair real . This kinda sucks I’m sorry
When you see Coriolanus Snow, you see a desperate man.
A boy, actually. You see a boy. A desperate, handsome, power hungry boy. You can see it in the way he towers over his peers in a sort of fake dominance, the fauxness behind his sugary sweet words directed to anything or anyone in a higher position— some even directed towards you, when that blush isn’t flushing his cheeks with a feral intensity.
As the daughter of Dr. Gaul, it’s quite easy for you to advance some of your friends in their studies. You are not only her daughter, but in a position of power yourself. You know people— and Coriolanus knows that. You aren’t dumb. You can tell by his eyes, the empty, icy blue orbs not quite telling the truth.
Coriolanus, in a way, is just like you.
Maybe that’s what intrigues you so much about him. Besides that pretty smile, or those golden curls or those muscles that make you drool, you admire his determination. You know about his poorness (not all know, but some do, as Dean Casca Highbottom once quoted to him), and you know one will go far to satiate their own greed.
It’s just a matter of how far.
—
Coriolanus walks into your lab crying, one day.
Not obviously. It’s subtle, as you demand he sit down and take off his shirt so you can stitch up his wounds. Your hands graze it softly, and he winces.
“Does it hurt?” You ask him, even though you already know the answer.
He lets out a shaky breath, his hands clenching at the seat.
“Yes.”
An honest answer. He must trust you.
You hum, beginning to work on his wound with taught precision. Looking at him now, his jaw is clenching tightly and the boy is shaking so much you fear he might break.
“I killed someone.”
He states it in a remorseful tone, the tone of someone weak and pathetic.
“Someone in the games, if I’m correct?”
He turns to look at you in surprise, as if you didn’t have access to your mother’s decision of allowing him to walk in there and save his friend Sejanus. He says nothing, then. He sniffles, and cries silently.
“You know,” you state, beginning to stitch him. “I’ve killed someone too. Someone I needed to kill.” You smile, remembering the one time a student who was threatening to take your place mysteriously fell into the pit of snakes. “It was necessary.”
Coriolanus tries to stay nonchalant, but you can see the way his shoulders tense. He doesn’t say a word, so you continue.
“Was it necessary to kill the person you killed?”
He looks down at his hands. Caked with blood, knuckles drawn taught. You want to bite them.
“No,” Coriolanus answers slowly. “No, it wasn’t.”
Maybe there’s more darkness to the boy than you originally thought.
You speak to him in a much lower tone now.
“Maybe it was. You just don’t know it.” And then, “There are a lot of things certain people can do to get to the top, Coriolanus.”
Your insinuation doesn’t go unnoticed. He moves his head to look at you.
“And what would that be?”
Typical. Someone so power hungry that his head turns at the mere mention of an opportunity. You’ve got him right where you want him.
You finish up his stitches. You move around to his front, your short red skirt all of a sudden incredibly suffocating as he looks up at you with something utterly pathetic in his gaze.
“How far are you willing to go, Coriolanus?”
And that’s when, a few moments later, you get your wish: that skirt, oh so suffocating, is strewn on the floor, Coriolanus’ big hands massaging the skin of your thighs as you straddle him. Your lips press against his in a hot and heavy kiss, your tongue massaging his lips with fervor. He may be doing this for advancement, but the blonde wants you nonetheless. You can see in the way his hips grind up, the way he lets out desperate whines as you lick up his tears with your tongue. Pulling away from him, your cunt clenches when he tries to push your body down onto his crotch.
“No, Coryo,” you demand, though your voice is desperate. “I want you on the floor, okay? You’re going to taste me first.”
He hesitates, his eyes darting to your lacey panties and then to the colorful tiles.
“… the floor?”
He seems nervous, jittery. It’s not as if he’s afraid of getting dirty, or something.
No, this is something else. In the way he nervously twiddles his fingers, the way his bottom lip catches in between his teeth. It’s not as if he wants to stop— it’s more so that he’s inexperienced.
And then it hits you.
Coriolanus snow is a virgin. This big handsome boy, beautiful and delicious, has never done had sex before. He’s never felt the touch of a woman, never eaten pussy or got his dick sucked.
And for some reason, that makes you want him more.
“Oh,” you coo to him, soft. “Coryo, you’ve never done this before, have you?”
His face turns dusty pink, but he tries to deny, deny, deny.
“What? No! Of course I’m not. I’m just..” he looks at the floor, his lie clear on his face. “The tiles are cold. Dirty.”
“You’re caked with blood and sweat, sweet boy. I’m sure the tiles will be fine.”
He looks away from you, his lips drawn up into a pout.
“I’m not a virgin.” He states, merely to himself. You raise a brow, an amused smile playing on your lips as you move farther away from him.
“Then why don’t you come and eat my pussy, baby?”
His cock strains against his zipper, and you swear you can see it twitch from where you’re standing. He gulps, and with a submission you would’ve never expected, the boy drops to his knees on the tile and makes his way towards you. His shirt, unbuttoned, shows the pretty lines of his chest and his rippling back muscles, and when he gets to you, he stops at the front of your still standing knees. Satisfaction wades through you when his hands move up to the waistband of your underwear and yanks them down with shaking hands. Your smell hits his nose, makes his head tilt back as he lets out a throaty sound in the back of his throat. His tongue laves over the skin of your inner thigh, his hands going around the back of one of your knees to pull you close. You spread your legs to allow him access, your pussy lips drenched with arousal as his breath laves over you.
“Go on, Coryo,” you urge. “You want me to put a good word to my colleagues, yeah? So you better do a good job.”
He moans, his tongue finally slipping in between your folds as he tastes you. He’s messy, sloppy, and it’s good but it’s not good enough.
“God. I thought you were experienced? Huh, Coryo? Don’t you wanna make me feel good? Are you even fucking trying?”
He pulls away from you, shame in his eyes as you scold him. He pleads, his lip wobbling, his arms holding onto your legs.
“Please, I’m sorry. ‘M so sorry. Teach me, please…”
He tries to press a kiss to your cunt, but you kick him away with your foot. He falls to the ground, helpless.
“Lay down—I don’t care if it hurts your back. Don’t make me tell you twice.”
He does as he’s told, all sweet and sweaty and bloody. His back hits the tile, injured but he ignores it when he watches you tower over him. You move down, pressing your knees on either side of his head. He grabs your thighs to place his mouth back on you, but you grab his golden curls in your hands and yank him back. He groans in pain, his feet kicking in a sort of pleasured resistance.
“You use your mouth when I tell you to, coryo,” you scold, watching the way his eyes flutter and only focus on your dripping pussy. “You do what I say. If I guide your head, or press myself down at a certain spot, you go along with it. Do you understand me?”
He nods, desperate to get his mouth on you, his cock thrusting into the open air.
“Good. Now, go slower. Stick out your tongue.. wider… therrre you go, baby.” His eyes focus on that one spot, his tongue hovering right over your clit. He must have read up on this a time or two. You press him closer, shoving his face into your heat as his tongue hits the swollen bud. “You see that? That’s my clit. Yeahh, stick your tongue right there…”
He groans, the taste of your sweet slick making his eyes roll back. His palms splay across your ass, digging crescent moons into the skin. You move your hips in a circular motion, giving Coryo the impression to move his tongue that way. He’s a smart boy, so he knows exactly what you’re communicating to him. His tongue moves in slow, languid circles, your slick already dripping down his chin. You can’t help but give into the pleasure he’s giving you for a moment, riding his face like your life depends on it before slowing down and stopping.
“Good, coryo. You’re being such a good boy. But you need to move your tongue down. You don’t want to play with my clit too much, because I’ll cum quick if you do.”
He makes a noise of understanding, moving his tongue down to your hole. It’s much funner this way, he thinks. The tip of his tongue can gather up the awaiting slick that’s spilling out of you, it makes your taste all the more prominent. You give him some room to experiment now, letting him move his tongue in between your clit and your hole. He catches on, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was experienced now— he’s a natural learner. Your hips grind down into him, and when he tongues your hole you use his strong nose to grind lazily against. Coryo can only breathe in your slick, his brain becoming fuzzy from his lack of air. But it’s okay. It’s okay because he’s doing good.
You can feel yourself getting close, the languid strokes of his tongue making your legs shake. You hump against his mouth, your head thrown back.
“Gonna cum,” you say to him. “Gonna cum on this slut mouth.”
He groans, his jaw working even harder now. He focuses on your clit more, save for the few times that he slurps up the slick from your hole. Your orgasm is fast approaching, your body drawing up tight.
And finally, you’re cumming on his mouth, moans spilling from your lips and Coryo’s. He’s desperate to catch all of your cum onto his awaiting tongue, his legs still moving around as he consumes you like a man starved. Your eyes roll back and you grind your hips against him as you come down from your high. Coryo pulls away once he’s satiated, looking up at you with his chin coated in slick.
You sigh, pulling your hips back to give him some air. You move your body off of him, going to your knees to watch his pussy drunk face still follow your cunt as you move. You want to return the favor, now. It’s only fair.
But looking down, you notice a wet spot soaking through Coryo’s pants.
He lifts himself up on his elbows, looking from his crotch to you. He flushes, apologies spewing from his wet lips, shaking his head.
“I tried not to. I really, really did. ‘M so sorry.”
He tries to reach out to touch you, but you just move away and down to his crotch. You unbutton his jeans, and he lets you. You look down at his red briefs, watching the white stain peeking through.
“Oh, baby. You just couldn’t help, it could you?”
You mock him, your hand palming his shaft. He lets out a whimper, his head falling back against the tile. He knows it’s too much, but he isn’t stopping you. You pull his briefs down, and boy is he big. Thick and long, all pretty and red with cum dripping down to his balls. Your mouth waters, but you figure that can wait another day. His seed can be used for other things.
You flutter your lashes at him, your hand wrapping around his shaft, jerking him to hardness again. He’s got this look, contorted and pained and pleasured at the same time. You straddle his meaty thighs, your cunt lips brushing over his cockhead, and he gasps.
“W-Wait—“ he starts, choked. “It’s.. ‘S too much—“
“Then why are you hard again?” You tilt your head at him, your movements paused because he didnt give you full permission. “Don’t you want my warm, tight pussy? Don’t you want to make it to the top?”
And that gets him going, his arousal for you and power and riches. He nods, eyes rolling back as you sink down on him. The cum from his last orgasm coats your walls and makes it easier to fill yourself up, warm white streaks dripping down his cock again.
“Oh.. oh my god,” his mouth drops open, and you’ve never heard a boy so vocal. “Please… I want it, I want it!”
You know what he’s asking for. Your stilled hips are non moving, letting him stretch you and sit heavy inside your cunt. You smile, moving your hips just a bit, letting him feel your gummy walls sucking him in. His mouth is in the shape of an o, his hair messy and disoriented. He tries to grab your tits, your hips, and with a surprising force your palm strikes his cheek haughtily. He cries out, his thighs shaking, his hips thrusting up.
“No touching,” you demand. “You don’t get to do that. Give me your hands.”
He lets you take them, and you push them far over his head as you begin to work your hips harder, faster. His balls make plop plop plop-ing noises as they hit your ass, quivering and begging for you to let them empty inside you. You move down to his neck, leaving purpleish bruises over his skin, marking him as yours. You let go of his hands so you can rest your hands on his torso, and his hands move up. Not necessarily to touch, but to hover over your tits bouncing through your tight fitted shirt. You give him permission, just a moment, to squeeze the soft skin in his hands, give them a teasing, bold little slap. You breathe shakily, his cock filling you up in ways no other has. You watch as Coryo’s head tilts back, and you know he’s close.
“Gonna cum?” You taunt, your nails scraping against his chest. He groans, nodding. “Gonna fill up my tight little pussy? Cmon, give it to me, I know you want to.”
And when he spills into you, rope after rope of warm, hot cum filling you to the brim, you let out a cry. His fingers find your clit— he’s thought this through, hasn’t he? He rubs you until you’re seeing stars and clenching around his overstimulated cock with a loud sob. He moves up to kiss you hot on the mouth.
“Did I do good?” He asks.
You smile, your hand threading your hands through his hair as you both relax against each other.
“You did very good, Coryo. I’m so proud of you.”
He breathes out a chuckle, shoving his face into your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and he winces. His wound has been withstanding a lot of pressure.
“You probably want to put some ice on that.” You suggest to him. He shrugs.
“The tile was cold enough.”
#coriolanus snow#Coriolanus snow x reader#Coriolanus snow x fem! reader#Coriolanus snow smut#sub! Coriolanus snow#Coriolanus snow fanfic#Tom blyth#tbosas#the ballad of songs and snakes#the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic#thg#thg fanfic#the hunger games#hunger games#hunger games fanfic#Coriolanus snow tbosas
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“Cool spider…” // Tattoo artist Chris
Warnings: sextape / colleague relationship / favour for a favour trope / riding / petty Chris x reader / nose piercing!Chris / spanking kink / mommy kink / slight breeding kink / tattoo!Chris / praise kink / ownership kink / degradation kink / ‘good girl’ / creampie / unprotected sex / hair pulling / exhibitionist kink / scratch kink / tit play / overstimulation
Summary: you and Chris both work in a tattoo & piercing gallery, and your toxic ex just won’t leave you alone… so Chris decides to shut him up and put him in his place.
Author’s notes: I’m baaack. someone’s seriously got to stop me from making up fics on stuff that I’ve just randomly yapped about and blogged for fun. Me: posting about tattoos I’d think Chris would look good with. Also me: ‘-now hang on a sec that’s actually given me a great idea…’ *pulls out a notebook and starts vigorously writing shit down*.
“Gotta know, I ate her, she's so sweet, now or later. I want that all the time, all the time I'll make you all mine” - Toes Down, Loukeman
. ♱ .
You sigh, checking your phone once again before flipping it back around to face the desk. You shake your head and put it into your hands to rub it slowly in exhaustion. This is the fifth time he’s texted you today and your patience with him was slowly thinning.
‘You good?’
Chris mumbles absentmindedly from his hunched over position at the counter. He has his shirt off - as he usually does - to keep himself cool as the ceiling fan whirls above your heads. You look at his back, and the way his light wash blue jeans wrap around his lean waist lowly.
His right arm moves languidly as he sketches out a stencil for one of his clients, the graphite of his lead pencil scratching against his favourite sketchbook soothingly in the otherwise quiet atmosphere of the tattoo parlour.
You admire the jet black ink adorning his torso, that stretches from the bottom of his spine to cover the expanse of his shoulder blades in jaggedly aggressive patterns, the back tattoo attractively sat over his otherwise soft skin.
The muscles wrapped around his shoulders move as he draws, and you can’t help but swallow thickly at the sight of them.
‘Yeah… I’m fine’
You reply, not at all convinced by your own weak attempt of trying to mask your obvious distaste for the sight of the messages on your Lock Screen whilst you shuffle about trying to clean a needle gun.
‘Oh really? Cos’ I’m hearin’ a great deal of sighing for your corner of the room and not alotta action…’
Chris sarcastically snorts back, his voice containing buckets of care masked within the joking manner. He doesn’t even bother turning his face, far too absorbed by the current drawing of a tiger he was doing on someone’s chest in a couple of weeks time whilst he expertly shaded in the small black stripes of its rippling body.
You pause for a minute, debating on whether or not you should actually tell Chris about what’s been going on. It’s your ex. And Chris doesn’t like him at all. So how is he going to react when you tell him he’s been quite literally harassing you for the past couple of weeks?
Not well is your guess…
Even though you two are co-workers, you share an extremely close relationship and tell each other practically everything, which sometimes readily blurs the lines between your strictly professional work ethics.
‘Ugh fine, it’s Max, he’s just sort of been bothering me lately…’
This catches Chris’ attention, and his head perks up. Craning his neck he looks back at you with narrowing eyes of suspicious icy blue.
From this angle over his shoulder you can see the gleam of his silver nose ring, and his torso twists just enough to reveal a new tattoo. One that you actually did on him yourself.
It was a delicate but bold patchwork tattoo of a large black widow spider, its long spindly legs stretching across the expanse of his ribs and looking like it was using them to scale up his chest. You struggle to hide a smile at being able to remember doing it on him so well.
You can easily recall the faint buzz of the needle gun and Chris’ soft occasional groans as you punched in the bulbous back of the widow’s body onto his skin that rose and fell to the rhythm of his exhales.
It must have been a sensitive part of Chris’ body because his breathing had been raggedy and his eyes had been squeezed shut for a majority of the tattoo. You had faintly mumbled ‘cool spider… you draw it yourself?’ To which he had responded with a grunt and an affectionate ‘duh’.
Whenever his eyes had opened to look at you they had been dilated heavily, with either pain or pleasure, you’re not quite sure.
He glares over at you and shakes his head. ‘Not this fucking idiot again… what’s he done this time?’.
Chris’ patience for Max has never been there, and he’s often one to be petty about every single move your ex boyfriend makes.
Chris has never liked him and so rejoiced when he heard from you that the break up had been messy on his side of the bargain.
Max was trouble, and so you had done the right thing when breaking things off with him. However, Max wasn’t one to easily let go, and he had been pestering you to take him back ever since.
‘Just being his normal asshole self I suppose’.
You’re deliberately vague with Chris, because you don’t want him to get all riled up like he usually does. He had given up his sketch now and had fully turned to lean his back and elbows onto the counter, knowing that you telling him this information was far more important than the task at hand.
His eyes then flick to the door of the studio, where the welcome sign hangs in the centre of the glass window pane. All around the door are frames of hundreds of different tattoos, all in the different styles of each of the employees that work here. No one else is working today though, it’s just Chris and yourself maning the store.
Chris is a primarily black work realist, and so his designs take up quite a lot of time, their lifelike splendour forking cash loads of money into his bank account whenever a piece is completed.
Multiple clients of his have been here for months as Chris prefers to take his artwork in sessions so the healing isn’t as tenuous.
Quite a few of his previous works have been photographed and framed about the waiting area, just to showcase his impressive ability.
Your area of speciality is more in line with fine line tattoos, you prefer delicacy over all else and likewise, some of your bigger works have been photographed and framed about the shop.
‘You got any more scheduled clients with appointments today?’ Chris spontaneously enquires, and you can tell simply by his face that he is pondering some form of idea within his head that makes you nervous. You hesitate with your response.
‘…Emm- no, I don’t think so?’.
Chris nods mischievously and smirks with his mouth open and his tongue pushing against the side of his teeth playfully.
‘I’m gonna need a little bit more of an explanation than just ‘he’s being an asshole’ then, cherry…’ Chris sing-songs as he pushes himself from off of his slouched position and starts to exit from behind the counter.
The nickname ‘Cherry’ had caught on fairly quickly between the two of you, because Chris had thought that you honestly looked way too sweet to be working in a downtown, grungy tattoo shop. After his first usage of the fond name it had just kind of stuck and now always sounded like molten amber honey dripping from his mouth.
He puts ‘he’s being an asshole’ in knowing quotation marks because he already knows how much of an asshole Max is. He’s experienced it before whenever your ex has decided to show up to your place of work and be a nuisance.
You’re pretty sure you almost had to hold Chris back from planting a right hook into his jaw one time because he had knocked over a bunch of new inks the store had just purchased for everyone’s clients.
Chris’ jaw had clenched immeasurably and you had quickly veered in front of him to plant your palms onto his collarbones after he had taken a large stride towards Max.
You had held him back gently, telling him to take several deep breaths and keep cool whilst you dealt with it.
Well… your version of dealing with it was calmly escorting him out of the shop and reassuring him that you’d see each other later before meekly returning back into the reception area to face a fuming Chris who immediately rolled his eyes and spat a quick ‘I’m gonna ban that bitch from coming in here next time he shows his ratty lookin’ face…’
You had simply sighed, shook your head, and tenderly patted him on the shoulder.
At the present, you squirm nervously when you see the way Chris walks right up to the door, before twisting the heavy duty lock on it and flipping the welcome sign to the side that displayed a big ‘closed’ on the front that was visible to passing strangers.
‘Chris it’s not that big of a deal honestly!’ You try and laugh it off as Chris spins back around. He then walks right up to you.
Grabbing one of the other chairs at the desk you were sitting at, he turns it around so that he can comfortably straddle it.
‘Uhh, well that’s where you’re wrong because it just so happens that my favourite girl’s ex is bothering her, and if she’s gotta problem with it… then so do I’ he sassily bites back, referring to you in the third person as he rests his taut forearms onto the spine of the chair, which gives himself something to lean on.
You have to ignore the way your stomach flips when he calls you his favourite girl, and you shyly flit your eyes to the floor whilst still fumbling around with the tattoo gun.
‘Well um… he just- he just keeps uhh’ you start, stuttering and having to sigh in utter frustration at not even being able to articulate your words properly.
Suddenly your eyes feel hot, and they sting a little. You are not going to cry in front of him. You panic when your voice wobbles and try to regain your composure as Chris looks at you with a worried expression.
‘Hey- hey… s’okay cherry, s’alright. Take your time, I’m here’.
Chris notices your flustered state and coos gentle reassurance at you whilst stretching one of his hands out to softly stroke the ball of your shoulder, right on the section of naked skin where the fabric of your top straps don’t quite reach.
You want to say that Chris is just being friendly, but somehow, the way he touches you tells a different story. It could have just been a harmless pat, but instead he had curled the knuckles of his hand and used them to soothingly skim up and down your skin, slowly, repetitively… almost sensually.
Chris liked any excuse to touch you. You were so soft and supple, a major contrast to his own skin. And he hated seeing a man like that crumple you up like a simple ball of paper and toss you into the trash.
You take one last stuttering breath before continuing.
Gazing at Chris’ soft smile and focusing on the calming gleam of his nose piercing, you find yourself relaxing once again as you take your time to look at each of his individual statement pieces whilst relaying your story.
His silver nose ring, his two lobe piercings that were decorated with spiked metal hoops, and his helix piercing, that came in the form of a small snake charm. It shone in the natural light of the room as it slithered up the expanse of his cartilage and provided a nice distraction for you.
‘I don’t know… h-he’s just saying these disgusting things about my body, and- and how I’m never going to find someone that will treat me better than him in bed. Just general filthy shit like that…’ you mumble, feeling absolutely humiliated and degraded at having to tell Chris about what Max has been saying to you as you sniffle and rub your nose.
As you explain yourself, the motion of Chris stroking your arm slows up significantly, and his little smile fades with every word you speak to him. His eyes narrow, something you noticed he does whenever he’s seething with rage.
‘Gimme your phone, I wanna see these texts’ Chris quips demandingly, using the hand that was once rubbing your skin to unfold itself and silently ask for your phone.
You sigh and hand it to him without much of a fight. You know that there’s no use in trying to argue with Chris when he gets like this. He’s driven, and once he has an idea there’s rarely anything you can do to deter him from it.
He unlocks your phone, already knowing your password, and starts to scroll through the endless shower of sexually abusive messages. You bite your lip as you look at him reading them over.
He sits on the backwards chair with his jean-clad thighs casually spread out, still one arm resting on top of the spine whilst the other one holds the phone and vigorously scrolls downwards.
You then flick your eyes to his face, and the way his rosy lips wet themselves as they quietly announce some of the words that he reads back to himself. The further down he goes the more furrowed his brows get.
Suddenly he shakes his head with an angry tick and slams your phone face down onto the table. You jump slightly at this, and blink at a Chris that had immediately shot to a stand.
‘That’s it, m’not dealing with this shit anymore. If he can’t leave you the fuck alone then I’ll make him.’
You look at him in confusion.
‘What’s that supposed to mean…?’ you shyly trail off but your question is shortly answered as soon as Chris bends down to level with you and seamlessly digs his palms into your thighs so that he can pluck you up from off of your chair.
You yelp a little in shock, your heartbeat thrumming against your ribcage before you quietly recover as Chris curls your legs around his hips. Upon touch, your hands instinctively fly to grip onto the back of his neck, his skin being warm and tepid.
The scruff of his long hair feels like satin tickling over your fingers and Chris groans in achievement as soon as he feels your thighs tense against his waist.
He’s been waiting for an excuse to do this.
‘Max is tellin’ you that you’re never gonna get a better fuck than him? Well I’m about to prove him wrong, s’that okay with you, cherry?’ Chris asks, not really expecting no for an answer as he starts to walk over the squeaking floorboards to the backrooms of the shop.
He knows exactly where he’s going and something deep within your core flutters at this assertive kind of attitude.
Chris has always been the extremely blunt and forward type of guy- if you looked pretty that day, he’d tell you, and make it obvious that he was attracted to you.
Today was no different, you could tell he had every intention of fucking you and making it extremely clear to Max just how good he was going to do it.
‘Y-yeah’ is just about all you can muster in your shaky state.
As you look down at Chris’ face, his chocolatey waves tussle in a rather wild-looking way whilst nestled about his pierced ears. Your fingers timidly skim about his neck, and one of them draws nervous patterns over the black bat tattoo situated behind his right ear that he had gotten for his brother a year ago.
‘That’s my girl’ he praises cockily as he barges through the beaded entrance way into one of the client operating rooms. There’s a black leather stretcher in the centre of the room and a stool sitting idle right beside it where the artist sits.
Chris goes straight for the client table though.
He smirks a toothy grin as he plops you down onto the spongy leather and you find it within yourself to crack an equally as excited smile. He nudges open your legs so that he can stand in between them and weighs his hands down onto your hips, pressing his thumbs into your bones and rubbing them fondly.
‘Did Max kiss you at all when you two fucked?’ He asks breathlessly with his cerulean eyes lilting down to your lips hungrily.
He’s itching to get all over you. He’s been dying to taste your tongue on his for ages and it just so happens that this posed as the perfect, sneaky way to do so.
‘Well, hm… not that much, but I guess a-’ you start to explain, but ‘not much’ is enough of a pathetic answer for Chris to fall forward and engulf your lips in between his before you can finish anyway.
Your little muffled whine of shock is swallowed by a Chris that attaches himself to your bottom lip quickly.
Winding one of his hands behind your back, he uses that - and the other one gripping your hip - to yank your body towards his. You two stay flushed together, and you can feel Chris’ throbbing prick against the seam of your pants already. He’s hard, and clearly pent up for you behind his low-waisted jeans.
‘That’s not good enough’ he mumbles, almost in a tongue-drunken stupor against your lips, criticising Max so that he can subtly defend his choice to kiss you.
Really, he had no need to, but fuck did he want to.
You don’t complain, in fact, you simply sigh at how close Chris is. You can feel his nose delicately skimming against your cheek the more he twists the side of his face to gain better access to you, and you can’t help but lust for the way his dewy lips wrap around your own.
The contrast between his cold fingertips brushing against your body and his hot tongue leeching out to slip into your open mouth makes you shiver.
‘N-no you’re completely right… that’s not good enough’ you coquettishly add on to the conversation you two have in between kisses. As you shit talk Max together, you only encourage Chris to take further jabs at him.
‘And what about these pretty little things here…? Did he touch these enough?’.
Chris’ nose trails down the line of your jaw to dip and run along the jugular vein of your neck whilst he pants desperately. He holds your sat figure into his standing leant one with one hand gripping your ass whilst the other one trails up to squeeze against one of your braless tits.
Wanting Chris to play with them, your blushing figure shakes its head and you swallow thickly. ‘No…’.
Chris hums a casual ‘huh’ in playfulness before the hand playing with it decides to slip itself under your shirt for better access. You heavily hiss and arch your back as soon as skin on skin contact is reached and Chris gingerly touches your peaked nipple.
‘You make me feel like such a pervert when you don’t wear a bra to shifts we do together because I stare at them all the time…’ Chris confesses as he gently kneads one of them within his big palm. Whilst he does this, his face buries itself into your neck to pepper sprinkles of sloppy kisses all over your skin.
‘What if I told you I do it on purpose… I like it when you look…’ you breathe with your head knocked back in pleasure. Chris stops his assault on your neck to gaze at you with raised eyebrows of shock.
‘Fuck. Max was an idiot for fumbling you…’
This makes both your heart flutter and your core drip. You like Chris’ praise a lot more than you like Max’s degradation, and make sure to let Chris know this by giving him another kiss.
‘S’mommy gonna let me suck on her tits?’ He ponders in a feigned babyish voice against your lips, the sweet lilt of his sensual tone almost making you melt into the client’s table.
Your needy reply of ‘yes’ is soon followed by an immediate response from Chris, who slowly reaches into his back pocket for his phone.
He slides it out and then presents it in front of your face with his brows raised.
‘And is mommy gonna let me film it so that I can send it to Max and let him see me having my treat?’.
Your eyes flick to the phone, then to Chris’ expectant face, absolutely drowning in lust at the thought of Chris wanting to film himself sucking on your tits. You nod without hesitation, and Chris smirks in victory.
He’s definitely using this to touch himself later.
Chris quickly fumbles around with his phone in excitement, scrubbing his home screen into his camera roll before he’s pressing the small red button to record himself propping it up onto the counter right next to where you were sitting.
You watch within a trance as Chris feeds his hands into the bottom of your top to sensually slide it right up your ribs. He then runs it over the top of your tits and leaves it to rest above them with a purr of ‘good girl’.
You feel your knees get physically weaker at the sight of Chris veering his face down into your tits, his mouth almost feathers against them as both of you look at the camera at the same time.
Chris has a little victorious smirk on his face, that he smugly flashes to his phone before turning back in and gently kissing your nipple.
He can’t stop his conniving smile as you seal your eyes shut and throw your head back, whimpering with your fingers combed into the back of his hair and tugging on it. Chris makes a show of poking out his tongue and licking you before he fully kisses one of your tits into his mouth to suck on it.
He moans a little starved whimper at the feeling of your soft flesh in his mouth whilst his tongue rolls and his teeth clamp down onto you.
His hands get grabby as you pant, listening to the way the microphone of the camera absorbs the sloppy sounds of him sucking on your skin whilst he kisses and licks wherever he can.
‘That feel good huh?’ Chris mumbles into you, and you whine in response with a stuttered ‘so- so good’. He nods cockily, eying the camera with your second tit already in between his teeth. ‘Yeah? This the best mouth you’ve ever had?’.
Struggling to fight off his smile at the comment he completely stole from Max, he knows it’ll make your ex’s blood boil, especially when you reply with an instantaneous shout of, ‘fuck- yes, I- I need more baby!’.
‘You want more?’ He drawls temptingly, pulling away from your chest that was now red and glistening, some sections littered with subtle teeth marks and some with purpling hickies.
‘I’ll give you more baby’ he laughs through his teeth before pressing his fingertips onto your core.
‘Hope you’re soaking for me, you’re gunna need it’ he quips before lightly trailing his hand up to the button of your zipper.
Your core clenches again when he pops it open, the insinuation that you need to be extra wet for him because of his size making you want to pass out in horniness.
He opens the front of your jeans before feeding his hands underneath your thighs so that he can pull you towards him and also force you onto your back to tug your jeans down.
After that, he watches the way you squirm when he sticks his fingers into the side of your sheer panties. In view of the camera, the pad of his thumb swipes up your slit as he checks your sensitivity himself.
‘Awe angel you are soaked… what a good girl for me’.
His sweet praise melts over you in the best way possible, and you can’t help but get shy and cover up your eyes to smile.
Sometimes you forget that the camera is there, but Chris never does, and he glances over at it constantly to smirk as if Max is already watching on the other end of the line before turning his attention back to admire you.
‘I’m gonna make that pretty pussy feel so fucking good momma’ Chris boldly states as he starts to fumble around with his chunky and glamorously rhinestoned belt buckle. The leather of it flaps and his buckle gives a metallic jingle whilst he undoes it, his hair falling in front of his eyes because of the downwards slant his head holds.
‘Please- I really need you’ you mumble breathlessly, spreading your legs even further in reaction to seeing the stretch of his cock against his white Calvin Klein boxers as soon as he lets his jeans drop to the floor with a heavy crumple.
From here you can see his thigh tattoo of a crooked spiders web, done in extremely fine ink, delicate but dark.
‘I know you need me baby I know- be patient alright?’ He shushes you with a reassuring coo, before sliding to the side of you and hopping up onto the table himself. He positions himself right in front of his still recording phone so that he can get the best angle for this.
‘Why don’t you go ahead an’ take off those panties for the camera sweet girl… do it for me?’.
Chris’ whiny sounding voice is just so sugary and compelling. You’re pretty sure you would do anything he asked if it really came to that extreme because along with his voice, his lips and eyes really did the trick for you.
Chris stutters a breath as soon as he pushes his hand down his boxers to take ahold of his hot, silky cock, it’s skin already wet with precome at just how divine you had sounded whilst he was attached to your tits.
He tightens his fist to squeeze himself and throbs in his hand, his mouth dropping open and his shoulders heaving as you slide off the table and strip from your clothes fully.
As soon as you’re done, you can feel your wetness trickling and sloshing about your folds, and so you squeeze your thighs together when looking at Chris for his next instruction.
Chris hungrily gazes down to your panties that lie in a messy heap on top of your jeans. ‘Gimme those?’ He commands and gestures for you to grab a hold of your panties and give them over to him, which you do obediently and without question.
Chris grasps ahold of them and balls them up into his fist before smirking at the camera once again. ‘These are mine now… so’s your pussy’.
You turn red at this low and beastly remark, trying hard not to pounce on top of Chris for saying it. He talks so smoothly. It’s as if every word his mouth forms puts you under a lemony haze of pleasure and you just can’t get enough of it.
You just don’t understand how he can keep this up when you yourself already look like a fucked-out hot mess.
‘I’m all yours Chris’
You practically flee into his awaiting arms, and he hoists your bare and pink centre over his lap.
Kissing your tits again, he grips onto your fleshy thighs and moans a whimper whilst side eyeing the camera in ultimate possessiveness, just to make a show of it being him who’s sucking your tits, and not Max.
He’s going to feel so smug and proud of himself as soon as he sends this his way.
‘Can I have your cock Chris, please?’ You beg, stroking his waves of hair once again to butter him up - not that you’d really need to work all that much to have his cock in the first place…
‘Of course you can Cherry, you’ve been so good for me’ Chris replies as his fingertips stroke against your stretch marks, before he leans in and whispers ‘help yourself…’.
You glance down to the tent in his boxers with your lip bitten and a giddy little smirk on your face. After Chris invites you, you waste no time in pulling his weeping cock from out of the restraints of his boxers.
The hip tattoo he has of a Cupid with angel wings, a halo and a winking face soon makes itself known to you after you tug his underwear down a little further. The ink of the little boy’s heart-encrusted bow and arrow cheekily point right to the base of Chris’ cock, and so you crack a smile, shaking your head fondly at Chris’ inappropriate but witty humour.
He’s thick and throbs in your hand, his tip sticky and slick as it pulses a light pink taffy colour whilst a thick blue vein pokes itself out from the side of his length to travel right down to his base. ‘Fuck’ you breathe. Chris looks at you cockily and is very much pleased with your wanton response.
‘Want you to sit on it till it hurts and you can’t no more precious girl’ he mumbles as he hitches your hips up into his hands and lifts you above him. You nod with a little ‘Uhuh’, your stomach flipping and oozing to feel the stretch of him. He’s bigger than Max, and the thought makes you careen in pleasure.
You almost forget that you two are both supposed to be at work, because all of this feels so private and intoxicating, and the implication of Chris making it into sex tape gives you life.
As soon as you’re placed on top of him, you hold his base so that you can sink down properly, and both of you choke out whines at how fucking amazing it feels.
‘Shit… still tight honey… has Max really been using you properly or is his cock just that small?’.
Chris can’t help it. He gets off on criticising your priggish ex boyfriend because he truly fucking hates his guts. And damn does it feel good to be fucking you with the intention of letting the man himself know through the recording of it.
‘Fuck, I feel so full’ you speak into the air.
You then have to bite your hand so that you don’t draw tears because of the burning stretch Chris gives you. It’s almost unbearably uncomfortable for the first minute of bottoming out.
But then it stops being uncomfortable and starts making you squirm again at needing some form of friction to move yourself.
So you do.
Lifting your hips slightly, you slip back downwards and grind forwards at the same time whilst Chris looks up at you with star-ridden irises. They twinkle in the light and he pants heavily after every time you move.
He soon starts to naturally move himself, needing to respond to you in some sort of way.
He loves watching your tits bounce whilst you rise and fall onto his cock, the sticky slickness of it slapping within his ears and making him want to come all over your insides already. You squeeze him so fucking well, and he equally stretches you out to the limit.
The rough skin of his prick steadily rubs against your walls and ignites an explosion of sensitivity within your centre whenever Chris pushes himself far enough to hit your g-spot. He’s so big he almost bulges from your stomach.
‘Who owns this pussy, who does it belong to?’ He barks as you squeeze your eyes closed and scrunch your nose up, having to slam your head onto his shoulder because of your overstimulation in pleasure.
You stutter out a quick ‘ugh- y-you’ as you feel Chris’ fingers grab onto your hips because of their slowing roll. He digs them into your skin and starts to move you himself at an even faster pace which makes you whine even louder.
‘Sorry… not quite sure Max heard you- can you say that again for me Cherry?’ Chris meanly rebutts and makes your cheeks flame red after he actually takes his palm and harshly swats it against the side of your thigh. You yelp at the brash cracking sound the sweaty skin-on-skin contact creates, but nevertheless still cry a humiliated ‘you!’.
Chris praises you immediately after with a soothing ‘that’s right… good girl’, before starting up his sly and conniving antics once again.
‘And whose name are you gonna be screaming from now on hmm?’.
Chris’ little taunting hum is fucking petty. But also, just what you need to finally cum.
‘Yours Chris! Fuck- all yours!!’.
You’re almost shouting as you arch your spine and throw your head back in ecstasy whilst your legs quiver and an almighty wave of euphoria rushes over your whole entire being.
‘Awe baby… cumming already? I was just getting started…’ Chris coos cockily as he lets go of one of your hips to soothingly stroke against your back with a pretty pout on his lips.
However that pout doesn’t stay for long because it struggles to fight the smirk that quickly overtakes his facial expression at the thought of how quickly he had made you cum.
He glances at the camera once more, to admire the position the both of you were in with dilated eyes, before focusing back onto you and speedily forcing your hips up and down a couple more times to finish himself off.
You squeak and claw at him in overstimulated pain, whining for him to slow down, but all he does is gently hush you in comfort. ‘I know shhh, I know. Wanna make sure I fill you up nice and good though baby’.
His voice is so gentle, and in lulls you into a drooling stupor with tears in your eyes as you claw at his tattooed back with your sharp nails. That’s going to leave heafty scratch marks.
Chris is tempted to wipe them away, but doesn’t have enough time before he’s groaning loudly and his tip is uncontrollable squirting out thick ropes of cum.
He bounces your hips a couple more times to get rid of as much as he possibly can. He wants to see it practically leaking from out of your abused hole. After he thinks you’ve milked him dry, he lets go of your bruised waist and you crumple back down into his embrace.
He rubs your back as you try to desperately regain your breath with your core raw, stinging and slimy with Chris’ cum.
‘There’s my good girl… taking all of me like that. Swear I’ll give you my babies next time you take me that well.’ He absentmindedly praises you for the last time, and you find it within yourself to laugh in disbelief, shaking your head before you slap his shoulder and lean upwards to look at him in the eyes once more.
‘Okay… you’ve proved your point. Now stop recording so I can kiss you a little more.’
Your thumbs stroke the bags underneath his eyes, and his smile is so sunny that you’re sure it could have opened up flowers on a dewy spring morning.
‘Yes ma’am…’
. ♱ .
Later that evening, Chris had sat alone in the tattoo parlour.
He had told you that you could go home early and that he’d sanitise the rooms and lock up as a special treat for you.
You had done as you were told and left a while ago, which left Chris to watch back the sex tape that you two had made earlier with a mean and satisfied smirk slapped over his lips.
He had rewatched it about 3 times, admiring the way both of you had moved with the volume all the way up to listen to your heavenly sounding whimpers. He had replayed his favourite bits a great deal and was fucking obsessed. He couldn’t help himself.
He had then exited the camera app and went straight into Instagram, searching up Max’s account profile to slide into his DMs.
With one final smirk, he had bitten his lip victoriously and selected the video of you and him together before attaching it and typing one final thing before clicking the send button and locking his phone.
Might wanna think next time you make bold allegations about how she’ll never find a better D x
. ♱ .
Author’s notes p.2: guys I’m actually so sorry for disappearing off the face of Tumblr for fuck knows how long without an explanation. Truthfully there isn’t really much of an explanation apart from the fact that I’ve simply been too busy to write (and have also had major writers block atm- hence me and @luv4kozume collab taking so long lol). BUT I’m back with something that has actually turned into one of my favourite pieces of writing on this blog, so I hope it’s been worth the wait!! I love all of you guys for asking where I’ve been and equally as much for missing me. I’ve missed writing for you guys so much and am absolutely obsessed with tattoo artist!Chris, also don’t worry you guys, you’ll get cherry popper 3 one of these days lmao… Anyways, until next time cherry pies!! 🍒
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CLOWN THRONE & BALLOONS | LA!Buggy x fem!reader
Summary; You like kneeling for Buggy while he’s on his silly chair.
Warnings; Descriptions of Buggy being hot on said chair, fucking Buggy on said chair; Oral (m receiving), p in’ v, fem terms, you ride until you die.
LIVE ACTION ONE PIECE SPOILERS
A/N; FanFic writers please hurry on this I need this man carnally. Gotta smash the clown fear out of me. Also I’m not a fanfic writer but we need someone to jumpstart it, so if this isn’t up to your standard: my bad, I’ve never written and published before especially NSFW.
p.s: If it gets out that the actor doesn’t like his portrayal to be used in this type of way, I’ll be deleting this out of respect. Until then, Enjoy.
Masc!reader here! <- not made yet.
Under a harsh spotlight that only lights a tiny portion of the carnival tent, you’re kneeling in front of your captain. Right, in between his legs, with your head resting dangerously on his thigh, staring up at him.
Buggy had laughed Cabaji out of the tent when he had reported back from Shells town all before you came in.
He’s ‘relaxed’ on the wooden carnival chair, his hat hanging from on top of the back bar of the seat, with one of his legs propped up on the armrest and foot swinging lazily really helps encourage the imagination.
his brows crease his paint, shoulders are tense as he giggles at his speech.
Recounting the way Cabaji spoke of someone—and not him—had taken the Grand Line chart, you almost feel sorry for Cabaji.
The way Buggy speaks of this sounds as if he finds this amusing, you’re sure a part of him does but you can tell that he’s all but relaxed.
Buggy’s pride is flashy tales of himself, finding pure enjoyment from his endeavors so he can showcase them to the world. So, when some nobody ‘pirates’ haphazardly steal a map he planned to steal himself? He laughs.
But it seems all too forced.
"Captain?.." You ask.
He still wears his white and red striped bandanna however it does work as intended since you can still see fray blue hairs that linger around his face.
You wonder, if you asked, if could he put his blue hair into a ponytail. But you shake that thought away.
Buggy grumbles in thought, rubbing his forehead with his fingers, minding his clown paint. You frown at the sight of him and gently stroke his thighs in an attempt to soothe him.
“What will we do?” His eyes snap down at you, sending a thrilling chill down your spine. He giggled, almost too giddy for this situation.
He hums while cocking his head down at you and grinning mockingly. He sits upright, putting his leg down with a loud thud, trapping you in between him, and making your breath hitch.
“The map is mine.” He states tucking a fray hair behind your ear causing you to try and lean into his hand.
However, he snaps his gloved hand to your chin, pulling your face and bringing you closer to him. The wood floor creaks and your knees are a little chafed from kneeling for too long, but you pay no mind- too focused on Buggy and how his face is ever so close to yours. Your noses almost touching.
“And I’m gonna get it back.” He brushes his thumb over your lip, smudging your clown makeup to the side, making you nod up and down at his own words. “No matter who I have to kill.” He lets you go, pulling back against the chair again, you let out a breathy sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.
You can tell that he’s stressed, that he’s angry since he spent months planning only for it to be for nothing.
A light bulb lights above your head.
Looking around the tent, you and your captain are the only people present as the other ‘freaks’ of your crew must be perfecting their ‘performance’ or taking care of the ‘audience’.
You muster the guts to carry on rubbing his thighs while gradually moving your hands upward along him.
You again place your head on his thigh while feigning innocence. You feel up the striped tunic and then tug at the hem of his pants. He swiftly grips your wrist and causes your breath to catch.
“What are you doing?” He eyes you.
“I..want to make you happy,” You continue, trying your best to not show how worried you are, worried that you step a bit too close to danger with your intentions.
He bends forward and looks at you in the eye. His stare makes you even more nervous, aren’t able to determine if he is angered by what you are doing from the stoic way he stares.
You’re about to apologize but to your surprise, he presses a kiss to your wrist almost too affectionate.
He lets go of your hand and grabs the back of your head, pulling you into one kiss. You let out a moan, heat rising to your face both in shock and rosemary-colored lust. He pauses to look at your face, his hand entangled into your hair with a vice grip.
“You want to take care of your captain?”
He asks tightening the grip on your hair and making you bite back another moan, but you nod on your own this time.
He leans back casually, chuckling at the sight of you. His red paint had smeared over your mouth, you must look stupid, pathetic even: You knelt in front of him hair ruffled and face paint mucky but he found humor in your messy appearance.
“Show me,” Buggy purrs with a wave of his hand for you to continue, a lustful glint in his eye, you nod.
You’re now set on a mission, and that mission is to give your jolly captain the most mind-numbing head. And maybe more if you’re lucky
With his consent, you continue with newfound courage, you unlace his tan trousers as he spreads his legs for you, giving you more room.
Your heart pounds against your chest.
You want to please your captain.
You glide your hand down and graze his crotch, a prominent bulge in his pants all while he watches, hissing at your touch.
Finally, you pull his pants and underwear down to his mid-thigh, his cock throbs against his abdomen.
Buggy, who still has a hand in your hair, tugs you closer, nervously you take his heavy cock into your hand and give an experimental stroke.
With a flat tongue, you follow a long vein, giving a lengthy lick from the underside of his shaft to the pinkish tip, his chest is heavy as he breathes, trying not to roll his head back and keep his eyes on you.
He wants to watch you do this.
“Such a good girl..”
Needing more praise from your flashy clown captain you continue.
Your mouth is on the mushroom tip as you suck down, taking him halfway to not trigger a gag reflex.
You clench your thighs together at the groan he makes desperate for any friction, you bob your head on his cock while giving rough strokes on the part you can’t fully take.
However, Buggy forcibly pulls your head down on him making you grab his thighs and gag slightly, he waits only a moment for you to recover, your nose buried into his bunched tunic.
You give him a light tap and he has you moving your head again along his cock, you slowly learn to breathe out your nose and hollow your cheeks as you take him.
You’ll most likely have a sore throat after this.
Your eyes tear up a bit as you take him, his dick hits the back of your throat rhythmically and ruthlessly. Letting you moan around him, and making him buck his hips at the sensation.
“Fuck . . . you’re doing so well,”
Fuck, you want him to talk more, you’re positive that your nails have dug into him as you feel a shock of arousal pulse through your cunt.
You need relief, and Buggy notices that.
He pulls your head off him, a long string of saliva from your mouth to his dick. He pulls you up by the collar of your shirt to make you hover in his lap. Your knees are now on either side of him.
He wastes no time though, a hand under your skirt and a long drag of his fingers from your cunt to your clit over your panties.
You instinctively cry out, but Buggy is quickly on you, drowning out your moan. The kiss is sloppy, but you and he don’t mind.
“You’ll need to be quiet, you don’t want someone from the crew to get curious about the beautiful noise coming from here.” All you can do is nod, and try to not make much noise by biting your lip.
He’s experienced but rough with the circles he rubs on your clothed clit. He pulls your panties to the side but frustratingly rips them and throws them to the side-, and checks how slick you are with another long stripe.
You’re unsurprisingly ready without much touching from his end which he smirks at, he places his gloved hands-that have damp fingertips- on the divot of your hips.
You place your own hands on his shoulders the fur of his coat nestled between your fingers as you grip it.
You slowly lower yourself onto his cock, the pink leaky tip at the entrance of your cunt, you can feel it already throbbing.
You are about to fully go down but Buggy beats you to it, a bit impatient he bucks his hips up into you. Your legs around his thighs tense and shake at the sudden intrusion, keeping his words in mind you bite your lip, and you bite hard.
He groans at how tight and warm you are.
He begins to bounce you up and down, and once you follow the rhythm you’re both panting and groaning, hard to stop yourself from doing so when take the opportunity to explore your body.
His gloved hands tail all over your figure, teasing your chest through your shirt.
You take the time as well, to gaze at him, every part of him and then, you decide that; you want to bite his neck.
And you do.
He’s caught by surprise when you pull his ascot to bite and suck on his neck, so much so that he gives you a whiny moan when you do so.
At the noise, you feel your walls clench around him, making him hiss and buck his hips up into your sopping pussy.
Determined to have his dick mold your cunt in his shape you start to move faster and deeper, still leaving purple and red marks along his neck -and clown paint, at least you aren’t the only one who looks stupid now.
You can feel the build-up in the pit of your stomach, a tight coil forms ready to snap at one extreme movement.
Buggy’s also close having the same overwhelming feeling.
He enjoys having you rubbed up against him, your teeth biting at his neck trying so hard to keep your mewls down but they’re right in his ear.
Throughout this, he wasn’t ever suspecting to have you at his feet licking stripes on his dick nor have your slick tight pussy bouncing on him and dirtying his clothes, and to be fair he’s quite enjoying himself.
He’s a goner once he hears the next moan.
“Buggy. . .”
Fuck, your whine did something.
However he doesn’t want to cum before you do, so he holds back for just a bit so he can tail his hand in between the both of you to map tight circles on your clit.
Now your body trembles as the coil in your stomach snaps in half, and your walls clench around him
He finally lets himself roll his head back, muttering intangible swears, riding his hips up into you, his whole body tenses.
His cum jerks into your spasming pussy, you whine at the feeling too dazed to worry about any repercussions of this.
He rocks your hips along him, riding out the final moments of your orgasm before slumping back on the chair.
Both of you are breathing heavily, but you find that your ‘mission’ was a outstanding success as you see a genuinely but hazy grin from your now completely relaxed captain.
Maybe those nobodies stealing the map weren’t so bad.
#opla buggy#op buggy#buggy smut#buggy x reader#fem reader#one piece#one piece smut#one piece x reader#buggy nation#Here ya go you filly animals ((i love you))#I am embarrassed to post this#opla#opla smut
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How JJK Characters React to You Describing Them as Your Type When Todo Asks
Warnings: none
A/N: pretend you’re in a huge group with all of the students present when this question was asked :) also, I went with the anime adaptation of the characters rather than the manga, just fyi!
Yuji:
“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”
“Yeah y/n, we wanna know!” Yuji said, excitedly. You figured there was no harm in sharing, Todo and the group were just looking for fun to distract them for a little bit.
“Okay, well I like guys that are average height, not too tall or short. Super strong, of course, with a cute, goofy smile. Oh, and colored hair is always fun too!”
“Oh man, he sounds so cool! If I find any guys that look like that, don’t worry, I’ll send them your way!” Shaking your head and laughing, you got into a conversation with Megumi while Nobara yanked Yuji out of your earshot.
“Yuji! Don’t you realize what y/n said?!”
He rested his chin in his fingers, deep in thought for a few moments before he answered.
“No? Should I have?”
Nobara didn’t hesitate to whack him on the top of the head.
“They literally described you, idiot! Don’t you own a mirror?!” Yuji’s mouth opened in a big smile. This was great news since he had a big crush on you!
“Y/n! I have to talk to you!”
Megumi:
“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”
You sighed. You didn’t want to join Todo’s antics but you had no choice.
“You don’t have to answer him. It’s a stupid question anyway.”
Megumi’s voice came unexpectedly from behind you. You smiled inwardly at his protectiveness.
“I appreciate that Fushiguro, but I might as well. Let’s see. I like moody boys on the lankier side with dark black hair and dark blue eyes. He has to love animals too.”
You looked at Megumi to see if it registered that you were talking about him. All of a sudden, he sported a deep blush and excused himself from the group. Todo gave you a hearty smack on the back for your response.
“I’m proud of you for baring your soul like that to the one you love,” he said, tears rolling down his face. “Y/n, go get your man!”
You turned to look at your friends who all just shrugged their shoulders. Looks like you’re off to find Megumi then!
Nobara:
“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”
You had no hesitation answering this question, you loved to talk about things like this, gossip and crushes and the sort. Besides, it was time Nobara knew how you felt!
“I thought you’d never ask! I really like short girls with short hair. If it’s a vibrant color, that’s a plus. Spunky personalities are the best and I need someone who’ll keep up with me when I go shopping.”
Looking over at Nobara, you saw her jaw drop and you knew she understood what you were getting at.
“Y/n! You liked me and you never told me?! This whole time?!” she shouted, running towards you. You didn’t know whether she was going to hit or kiss you so you took off running as well. Gotta love the feisty girls!
Maki:
“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”
“This stupid question again?” grumbled Maki. You were a bit nervous to reply to Todo. You had a huge crush on Maki but she was, well, intimidating, to say the least. To be fair, so was Todo, and you heard what happened to Fushiguro so you went with the safest bet.
“I like girls who are on the taller side and insanely strong. Light eyes, dark hair. Straight to the point, always. And uh… glasses.”
Maki hadn’t moved a muscle and you cringed, fearing the worst. Best case scenario, she would ignore you ever said that. Worst case, she’d beat you up. When she came over and grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, you gulped.
“Y/n. We’re talking about this somewhere else.”
(Spoiler alert: when you were somewhere else, you kissed🤭)
Inumaki:
“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”
Todo was on your last nerve. Sure, he seemed nice enough, but why should you be expected to tell everyone your personal business like this? In front of both schools’ students, no less! When you were filled in on what happens when you don’t answer truthfully, you resigned to the fact that you were exposing your true feelings to everyone today, whether you liked it or not.
“I like shorter men, preferably with medium length blonde hair, and bright purple eyes. He doesn’t talk much but more than makes up for it with his top tier sense of humor.” You noticed that Inumaki never broke his gaze from you as you spoke. You shuffled over to where he was sitting to explain yourself, but this time it was you who couldn’t find the right words.
“Mustard leaf?” Inumaki broke the silence first, basically asking you what was wrong since you marched over there and hadn’t said a thing.
“Look, Toge, I’m sorry if I—”
He tugged on your sleeve, stopping you. In his hands was a note that read, “I like you too” with a little smiley face at the end.
Yuta:
“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”
You weren’t sure how to answer Todo. On one hand, you didn’t want to expose your crush on Yuta. On the other, would be it so bad for the truth to be out there? He was a kind person that wouldn’t drop your friendship if he didn’t feel the same way.
“I really like average height guys with longer dark hair and big, dark blue eyes. Personality wise he has to be extremely loyal and caring. Oh, and good with a sword.”
“Sooo… Yuta?” questioned Panda, and you nodded in agreement, your face warming with a blush.
“Wait, me? Really?” Yuta’s eyes lit up as he broke out into a hopeful smile. You nodded again.
“Oh man, that’s great!” he exclaimed, and then sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve liked you for awhile too and I just thought maybe you didn’t feel the same but you do! Which is amazing!” You laughed softly at his rambling. This school year just got a whole lot better!
Gojo:
“Y/L/N sensei! What kind of man is your type?”
“Todo, isn’t that wildly inappropriate to ask your superior?” you answered, a joking tone present.
“Maybe, but we’re curious! Please, sensei?”
“Yeah, sensei! It’s just for fun” Yuji chimed in.
“And it’s a team building exercise to know something so personal! You’re always saying we need to communicate better,” added Nobara. You rolled your eyes playfully.
“I meant that to be an exercise among you children, not me. But I will entertain this for only a moment, so listen carefully,” you told the group and they cheered like their favorite baseball player hit a home run. As you were about to spill your secret, you spotted Satoru leaning against a wall, clearly interested in the secret you were about to spill.
“I like super tall men who are lean but extremely strong. He has to be very funny and goofy but with a kind heart. White hair and striking blue eyes are also a must.”
Maki’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets as she exclaimed, “You like that blindfolded idiot?!”
As the kids clamored at the newfound information, Gojo took that time to approach you and the students.
“Excuse me everyone, but me and my new lover must depart,” he announced, taking your hand dramatically while leading you away to laugh at what just happened.
Noritoshi:
“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”
You groaned. You really didn’t want Noritoshi to know about your infatuation with him. It was no secret that he had more important things to deal with than schoolyard crushes so you were afraid to confess in case it made him uncomfortable—or worse, dislike you!
“You don’t have to answer the immature question, y/n,” Noritoshi spoke up when he noticed your discomfort. You were grateful for him but you wanted to keep the peace among your classmates and judging by the death glare Todo sent to you two, you’d better start talking.
“Thank you Kamo, but I value harmony among friends so I will answer this for Todo’s amusement only. I like tall men with a bit longer dark hair and gray eyes. Having an honorable character and being good with a bow is the way to my heart.” You felt Noritoshi tense up next to you and you refused to look at him out of fear of rejection. He took you by surprise when he leaned over ever so slightly to whisper to you.
“I was caught off guard by your confession but I can’t say I don’t feel the same. Can we discuss this later?”
Todo:
“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”
Your eyes went wide when Todo’s booming voice reached your ears. You were super into him but no one knew. You knew you couldn’t fool him with a fake answer, though, and if you were going to feel his hand for the first time, you’d rather it be from holding it with your own than having it curled in a fist and connecting with your face.
“Um… I like men that are extremely tall and buff. Dark hair, tan skin. And passionate, of course.”
“Hm! That’s a great answer! He sounds hot,” replied Todo, smirking, “but unfortunately for that perfect fake man, I’m taking you on a date first because you’re my type!”
You definitely weren’t expecting this!
Mai:
“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”
You rolled your eyes. This big oaf is going to jeopardize your friendship for sure. You really liked Mai but you figured she wasn’t into dating and all the lovey dovey stuff.
“Do I have to answer?” you asked, praying Todo had a change of heart.
“No, y/n, we all wanna know. What’s your type?” Mai chimed in, a sly grin on her face. You gulped.
“I… like women that have short, dark hair and dark eyes. If she’s taller than average that’s cool, and I love a snarky personality.”
“No way!” exclaimed Momo when she realized who you were talking about. You refused to look anyone in the eyes out of embarrassment and fear. What you weren’t expecting was Mai grabbing your hand and leading you somewhere else. Hopefully it was to talk and not get beat up!
Momo:
“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”
You huffed in annoyance. There were always some sort of antics with this guy! You had liked Momo for awhile now but she was like an enigma to you. You could never get a good read on her so maybe telling her how you felt outright would be a good thing?
“I really like girls with blonde hair and blue eyes, and short, too. Having a cute personality is a plus as well,” you answered, hoping that was straightforward enough.
“Wait a minute, that sounds exactly like me!” Momo exclaimed, blushing slightly. You sheepishly nodded your head.
“Because it is. I have a crush you.”
The whole group erupted in a chorus of “aww’s” and “how adorable.” You were nervous that you had accidentally made her uncomfortable but your fears disappeared as she came over to sit next to you. When the students were distracted by another topic, you felt Momo’s hand rest over so slightly on top your own and you knew you made the right decision to confess.
Miwa:
“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”
Before you spoke, you met eyes with Miwa. It almost seemed as if she was anxious to hear what you had to say!
“Girls with dark blue eyes and are average height are my type. I also really like girls with kind hearts and are down to earth. Blue hair isn’t too bad, either,” you finished, smiling nervously. Both of you were blushing messes while Mai scoffed “Get a room!” Your classmates were just happy that the secret was out in the open—they were tired of you two dancing around your feelings for each other!
#jjk headcanons#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#noritoshi x reader#gojo x reader#yuji itadori x reader#megumi x reader#nobara x reader#aoi todo x reader#miwa kasumi x reader#momo nishimiya x reader#maki zenin x reader#inumaki x reader#mai zenin x reader#yuta x reader
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Sin Summer (Ghost)
Rating: E (MDNI)
Words: 3.8k
Tags: Ghost x f!reader, tinder au, oral (f!receiving), piv sex, fingering, dirty talk, meet and fuck, pwp, reader sleeps around and no one blames them
Summary: You finally meet up with your faceless tinder guy and he quickly takes the number 1 spot on your hookup list.
a/n: When I say nothing is abandoned I mean NOTHING.
Part 1, Part 3
You're a little nervous when Saturday rolls around, but not any more nervous than you usually are. You're meeting in a public place, and if things break bad you can always scream. Hell if things break good Ghost promised to have you screaming. So one way or the other you get to be loud.
You don't even know who you're looking for, standing outside the bar and waiting for someone to... grab you? Usually you have a photo and can look around but Ghost was insistent that wasn't going to happen. You stare at your phone, at the open tinder dm and the promise from Ghost that he'd find you. He better not be a catfish or you're going to have to do some serious soul searching on your ability to be fooled on this app.
A large firm hand touches your shoulder and you quiet your startle response to something more reasonable for someone camped outside a bar.
"Easy love," his voice is so deep and rough, you pray this is Ghost, because you have to hear this voice dirty talk you. You have to look up to meet his eye. Which is just about the only thing you can meet since he's wearing a mask. You recognize the bottom of it, sort of, from one of his pictures. If nothing else the skeletal jaw print sort of lends itself to a name like Ghost.
"Ghost?" You ask hesitantly, if it's not him you'll sound like an idiot but the way his brows raise at your question give the same answer his voice does.
"The one and only."
"Faceless in person too, huh?" You really don't know what to say, never know what to say at the initial meeting. You both know what you're here for, but it's not like you can really say it.
"Try to be. Still got a mouth under here though, don't you worry." You feel the heat bloom over your cheeks at the same time you notice his eyes crease at the corners. You think he might be teasing you.
"You pull it up to drink I guess," you fish for something to say. Ghost shakes his head.
"Only comes off for one thing tonight sweetheart, and it's not drinking." His voice, God his voice, you think he could read the ingredients on a shampoo bottle and you'd get off on it. Your stomach clenches, eyes darting to his army fatigues. You really hope those are just for fashion.
"What the fuck are we at a bar for then?" You ask a little breathless. Ghost stares up at the bar sign.
"Gotta at least pretend I'm a gentleman," he tells you, "you said we were near your hotel, yeah?"
You grab his hand and very nearly drag him back to your hotel. Fuck it. If he is army you're not getting fucked in a barrack when you've got a perfectly good mattress at the hotel. You're sure he'd appreciate a shower with just the two of you in it as well. If he even wants to spend the night... do you want him to spend the night? If it means morning sex then absolutely.
It turns out Ghost's mask goes up for more than one thing, though you're given very strict instructions to keep your eyes closed for at least half of them.
Eyes closed when he kisses you. His hands are so big, rough with scars and callouses when they cup your face and tip your head back. You think you feel scars on his lips too, the softness of them cut with a raised lines of something, but you can't bother paying too much attention to them. His kissing leads you to believe some very promising things about his head. Lips sliding against yours firm and hungry before you try to get a breath in and he doesn't let you, deepening the kiss with an insistent tongue that makes your head spin from more than just lack of oxygen.
You love a confidant man. A man who kisses you like you're all that he wants, that he needs. You both know you're more than willing, but he still kisses you like you need convincing. His tongue slides against yours, licks into your mouth; he groans when you suck on the wet muscle. Ghost makes a quiet noise into the kiss, soft and a little desperate. You don't know if you'd considered how much he might want you when you'd started this.
"Ghost," you sigh when his lips leave yours and attach themselves to your neck. He hesitates, like it's the first time he's heard his name said like that, before diving in to bite you, hard. You tip your head back further with a gasp, the ache of his teeth against your skin makes you squirm, makes heat pool between your legs. You shiver as his tongue rolls over the bruise, his hands tugging at the bottom of your tee. You're careful to keep your eyes closed when he lifts it over your head. "Pants too," you hum.
"Don't gotta remind me," he tells you, fingers already skimming your belt. He barely gets it undone before he pushes his hand into your pants. His tongue clicks admonishingly, fingers skimming your wet panties. You do your best not to follow the firm strokes. "You're really desperate for me, aren't you?" His low tone hits you right where his fingers do. You're glad you're looking at the ceiling and not him, the way he makes your skin heat.
"You're my type," you tell him honestly, hips following the rub of his fingers. Screw it, if he's going to tease you, you're going to enjoy it.
"You should get better taste." You wish you could argue with that, but considering who you brought home he's probably right. You settle on humming, not willing to make a solid noise of agreement or disagreement when he's got his hand down your pants.
You close your eyes when he moves, when he hauls you up to position on the bed. His hand covers your eyes, warm and calloused, and big. It's firm, steadfast, you're almost enjoying the makeshift blindfold situation. Ghost's lips latch onto one of your nipples, sucking and rolling his tongue over the hardening bud. The heat of his mouth makes you squirm, the bite of his teeth just at the edge of too hard. He sucks and laves his tongue over you like he can't get enough of the feeling. You let a whine slip free and he moves his attention to the other one.
His fingers rub you through your underwear, working you up to soaking with practiced precision. Three firm fingers dragging up and down your slit, stopping to circle your clit with each stroke. It's warm pressure that makes your hips cant, chasing the movement. He's teasing you, keeping you just at the edge of eager while he enjoys himself with your breasts. You squirm a little and his touch slides further up to occupy itself with the waistband of your panties. You pull your legs up to help him get them off.
Ghost seems to switch gears as soon as they're gone. His hand leaving your eyes to grip under your knees, settling your legs on either side of him and pushing them up towards your chest. He trails his mouth down your stomach, nipping and licking at the soft skin, leaving his mark against your hip before he slips between your legs.
Keeping your eyes closed makes it hard not to flinch when his tongue drags over your slit. Broad strokes as he tastes you, his fingers spread you open so he can wiggle it between your folds and you press your hips into his touch. The hot drag of his tongue as it circles your hole makes you squirm, which makes him chuckle, deep and dark.
"You want me to hold you down?" He offers, the sound of his voice making heat rush over your skin. You shake your head and feel his broad shoulders shrug, you slide your legs over them and squeeze your thighs around his head. You feel him turn and bury his teeth in the soft flesh of your thigh.
It distracts him, you think, when he releases his teeth he runs his tongue along your skin, kissing and sucking at your thigh. His lips are appreciative, even when you squeeze him again. He's teasing you, he's so close to where you want him, working you up without ever touching your pussy. Your stomach jumps, warmth from his breath ghosting against your wet cunt. "I know baby," He groans, "gorgeous-" He cuts himself off, his lips pressing against your leg again before they leave you.
You almost open your eyes again when he fastens his mouth over your clit. You're so on edge waiting for him to touch you that you curl into his mouth, your fingers gripping his short cropped hair. His tongue rolls over your clit sending shocks up your spine. Your stomach jumps and you gasp as he sucks at your cunt, tugging at your clit and kissing your slit. He stirs heat in the pit of your stomach with each stroke of his tongue. Ghost's mouth is like a furnace, one that seems desperate to avoid parting from you. You hardly get a break from his insistent tongue, the sucking kisses, and the groans of deep satisfaction.
Ghost doesn't stop for a second, and the constant attention winds itself tight in the pit of your stomach. You whine, tug at his hair to pull his mouth closer, to keep that delicious suction that makes you want to writhe. He hums around your clit as you feel pressure build quick, before you can even warn him. Your whining grows more insistent as everything goes tight then spasms against his tongue as you come. Ghost doesn't give you a break, tongue stroking your clit as you clench and shake under him.
You jerk your hips when you feel his thick finger circling your hole, and his mouth leaves you. Only long enough to click his tongue and settle a hand on your stomach. He pushes your hips down against the bed, and eases his finger into your still fluttering cunt. "Gotta open you up love, relax." He tells you.
His finger is thick, thicker than some of the guys you've slept with, and you let out a soft noise at the gentle stretch. Ghost hums his encouragement, pumping his finger in and out of your cunt. He kisses your thigh again; you tip your head ever so slightly down and he clicks his tongue again. "Eyes up," He reminds you. You tip your head back, though you ache to get a look at the mouth that so expertly took you apart. The mouth that seems to still be trying to take you apart, because as soon as your head is back he's licking your clit again.
Your too sensitive, you have to force yourself to stay still, though his hand holding you down helps. You can hear the wetness between your legs, from his mouth, from his fingers, from your drooling cunt. Ghost hardly gives you a moment to adjust to the feeling, crooking his finger to stroke against your walls while he sucks. You clench around his finger and feel his tongue lap a broad stroke over your cunt in return. He waits for you to relax again before easing a second finger into you.
The burn of the stretch, just a bit too soon, is perfect. His fingers tug at your hole, sliding slickly in and out of you. It's just enough to make you feel full without filling you. Fuck it's good. Ghost strokes your walls, his fingers easing the stretch with gentle movements. He presses up against your soft spot and you let out a breath. You can hear the smile in his voice when he mumbles,
"There she is."
It's the only warning you get before his fingers are thrusting into you with a purpose. Short, quick, and precise, hitting your sweet spot with every stroke. Your stomach jumps and you clench around his fingers. He sits back, his hand leaving your stomach to hold your legs up, keep you from gaining any leverage as your back arches and you moan. He seems to have a direct line to your pleasure center. Each stroke of his fingers tightens in the pit of your stomach and makes your hips squirm to try and get away from the unrelenting jab of his hand. He's quick and experienced, and your legs shake over his shoulders.
You suppose it should be a relief when he removes his fingers just before you come a second time, and settles your feet on the bed. "Wanna watch you squirm," Ghost's voice is rough, deeper than you've heard it before. His fingers are the same, only this time when you try to get away from them he follows you. You were already on edge but this pushes you over. You buck and squirm, forcing him to fuck his fingers into you harder and faster until you shake apart with a shout and a flood of wetness. It coats your thighs, you know it coats his hand. It makes him groan. It doesn't make him stop. "Again," He tells you, his fingers still working you up quick. You don't have time to recover, your legs only pull up against your chest, desperate to curl in on yourself as the pleasure turns to pain and then pleasure again.
You come with your head thrown back and your fingers gripping the sheets. You shudder as it rips through you without warning, and once again coats Ghost's hand. He draws his fingers from you, and you hear him suck them clean. Somehow the sound makes you shiver.
Catching your breath takes priority over trying to sneak another peak at your partner for the night. You're sticky with sweat, three orgasms in, and you haven't even been fucked yet. You're buzzing just at the edge of enough. A good dick would make your night. To your side you hear the rustle of fabric being discarded. Ghost getting undressed you assume.
"Can look if you want," Ghost's voice is ever so slightly muffled, and when you do tip your head to find him he has his mask on again. You must look confused, because he shakes his head with a chuckle, and glances down to unclasp his belt. "Wanna look you in the eye," He explains, "Hard to do that with your eyes closed."
It's hard to look him in the eye anyway when he looks like that. Your eyes scour over the swell of well maintained muscle and the soft layer of fat that covers it. There are scars too, a whole host of them. They cover every inch of him, slashed over his chest, stabbed in his side, bullet holes in his shoulder and thick biceps. If you had any doubt this man saw combat it was gone now. He must be military, maybe special forces, it explains the mask.
Ghost pushes his pants down and you... well you need to rethink some things.
In your experience men who are criminally good at giving head are making up for something. Men who know how to "open you up" even more so. You swallow looking at the cock hanging between his legs, so long and heavy that it didn't spring up when he shucked his boxers. His fingers wrap around it, giving it a few good strokes with your slick as lube, and you watch the motion hungrily. He's not compensating for anything, he's just a great lay.
"How do you want me," You ask, eyes focused on the movement of his cock as he bends to grab a box from his discarded pants. He hums, tugging a length of condoms out and ripping one off.
"I'll move ya," He responds, rolling the rubber over his dick. A little shiver rushes down your spine, you like a man who knows what he's doing.
Ghost does, in fact, move you. He grabs your hips and drags you to the edge of the bed, the movement so quick and self assured it makes you giggle. His eyes crease at the edges, he's smiling you think, and he keeps smiling as he settles a knee on the bed next to you. You're quick to wrap your legs around his hips, and he's just as quick to pull them off and settle them over his arms. His big hands knead at your thighs, the extra leverage lining you up perfectly with his cock. Despite the angle, you're not using any muscles to hold yourself up, that's kind of him. Less kind when he positions himself at your entrance and tells you,
"Need you to be a good girl and take it," You gasp as he pushes into you, splitting you open more than his fingers could ever hope to, "Think you can do that?" You nod quickly, warmth dripping like honey to pool in the pit of your stomach. He didn't stretch you enough, but you think that might be the point. The ache of his cock stretching you open lets you feel every fat inch of it, every vein that drags against your walls, eased by the slick of your orgasms. Your eyes roll a little when he stops and pulls out a little. You whine, clenching to try and keep him inside, to keep that delicious stretch. Ghost groans, swears under his breath and shakes his head.
You should have anticipated him thrusting the last few inches inside. The hard thrust slapping his hips against yours forces a moan out of you. You arch in his hold, shivery, and glance between your legs as he gives you just a moment to adjust. The thick curls around his cock brush against your overworked clit and you do your best not to squirm. Not that you have much opportunity to squirm when Ghost fucks his weight down onto you. Each deep thrust hitting something achingly good inside you that makes you moan and claw at the arms holding you.
Your brows draw together looking at Ghost, he holds your gaze, his eyes piercing, dark and hungry. He's almost daring you to look away as he pounds into you. You're pinned under him, your legs forced back as he leans over you and treats you to a fountain of praise: "squeezin' me so good," "takin' it so well," "pretty little whore," "made for my cock." Your eyes roll back, the hot punch of his cock against your cervix almost too much for you. He told you to take it, you can be good for him, let him use you after he got you off so many times. That doesn't stop your legs from shaking or your voice from screaming.
There's something covetous in his eyes, something animalistic in the way he fucks you. This round is just for him, and you can take it. You tip your head back, trying to arch your back. Ghost releases his hold on your thighs and grabs you by the back of the neck, folding you back onto his cock. "No, no, sweetheart," He rumbles, leaning to press his forehead against yours, "told you, you gotta take it. Show me how a proper slag gets fucked."
Somehow this angle makes his thrusts more precise, and you truly cannot move to try and escape. You can hardly breathe, his cock fucking all the air out of your lungs. His pace just keeps getting faster, and you can see the way sweat sticks to his brow. You dig your fingers into his biceps, his thighs, anywhere you can try to get a grip as everything starts to hurt too good. You let out a squeak as the heat compounding in your stomach drips out of you. A slow trickle of orgasm that breaks into a flood on the next stroke of his cock.
It's worth it the way he growls when you clench and flutter around his cock. Ghost's thrusts becoming sharp and uncoordinated as he groans out his own orgasm. He rocks his cock into you more gently, letting your greedy pussy milk him before he lets you go to pull out. You feel like a rag doll, the way you drop and splay on the bed to shiver.
You turn over onto your stomach in an attempt not to slide off the bed as you get your bearings. Ghost is quick to scoop you up and deposit you against the pillows, the condom tied off and tossed towards the trash. You're once again moved, positioned how he likes so Ghost can pull you against his chest. You sling a leg over him and cuddle close. He smells like sweat, musky in a way that makes you want to drag your tongue along his collar.
"Twenty minutes," He tells you roughly, "I'll talk about anything but work." You hum, occupied with dragging your fingers over his squishy pecs. He flexes a little and you tip your head to look up at him.
"What?"
"We still got a dozen condoms, no sense takin' 'em home." He raises a brow. You think you're getting better at reading him, you think he's smiling. The offer is light, but sincere.
"Long as I can walk in the morning," You smile. He tips his head, like he's thinking about it.
"We'll see."
When you wake up in the morning it's to a pounding at the door. You grumble and sit up to check the time. You're alone in bed, but the shower is running. Good, he hasn't left yet. Around round six you decided you were getting Ghost's number in the morning, maybe asking him out to breakfast, perhaps even dinner. The clock says six but your brain says it's ass o'clock and whoever is banging on the door needs to gtfo.
You drag yourself out of bed and swipe Ghost's tee from the floor. A souvenir, and a nasty habit you've picked up. You root around for a pair of panties and manage to tug them on as the shower shuts off. You're making your way for the door when Ghost pops out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. You don't have time to admire the way drops of water trace over his back, or the way his hair sticks up at odd angles. He opens the door and leans against the jam.
"Dinnae dae that," Another low voice fills the room, there's something familiar about the accent, "Ya ask for a wakeup call, ya dinnae get ta glare at me."
"You're early," Ghost grumbles.
"Aye, was just so eager to see yer face LT." You pad behind Ghost and peak around his shoulder at the man in fatigues and an army green tee. You could recognize those eyes even if you didn't still feel his smile like an arrow through the heart. Icy blue in a way that makes you think he's from a different planet. Though you know it from your time in Glasgow.
"John?"
#cod x reader#x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#simon riley cod#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost cod#ghost mwii#ghost x f!reader#x f!reader#f!reader#Sin Summer#john soap mactavish#cod smut
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I know places E.M.
Warnings: 18+, smut, reader giving Eddie a blowjob, bullying, Jason being Jason.., reader is a popular cheerleader
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: You cheer Eddie up in a special way.
Word count: 2k+
Author's note: this is inspired by this Steve smut when reader mentioned her past moments with Eddie... this is only one of them, there's more coming. @mysticmunson thank you for inspiring me to write this hehe
stranger things masterlist
-
The cafeteria was bustling, loud voices, laughter and giggles sounded through the large room, the cheerleaders were gossiping, the jocks were laughing loudly about something, the nerds were already doing their homework instead of eating and you were observing.
With a hand under your chin and a pointed look in your eyes, you were looking around, searching for him. You always looked forward to his dramatic speeches, you loved watching him, how he’d get on the table and come up with theatrical words as he insulted the jocks and the rich popular kids, he knew he would only get shit for it later on, get another black eye or a flat tire, yet it never stopped him, he only came back with a smirk and do it all over again.
You were waiting but he didn’t come.
“Hey, are you okay?” Chrissy asks, nudging your shoulder.
You nod but your brows are furrowed. His friends were at their usual table but he was nowhere to be found.
You turn to look at your friend, noticing that her boyfriend wasn’t here either.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m gonna go to the restroom, gotta fix my hair.”
“Your hair looks fine,” she mumbles as she eyes your ponytail, raising her hand to brush it back, “pretty as always.”
You smile and suddenly her eyes widen, “wait, are you trying to impress someone, oh my god, who is it?” She gasps, raising her hands to cup her cheeks as her eyes flash with excitement.
“No one,” you chuckle, shaking your head.
“Tell me everything!”
You get up, rolling your eyes at her excitement, “there’s nothing to tell, I’m just using the restroom,” you say as you step away from her.
“I still don’t believe you.”
You only shake your head at her with a small chuckle before you walk away. Just as you’re about to walk into the hallway, the door opens and in walks Jason with his asshole friends, they are laughing about something and you already know what they are laughing about.
Rolling your eyes and clenching your jaw in anger, you push past them and step into the hallway. You find Eddie standing by his locker, his back pressed against it. He sniffles as he holds his aching nose. His fingertips are painted red from the blood that is seeping out of his nose.
You clench your fists in anger, contemplating going back to punch Jason and break his stupid nose but instead you focus on Eddie, making your way towards him.
“Eddie?”
His head snaps up at the sound of your voice, glassy eyes meet yours, they flicker with surprise when he finds you looking at him with soft eyes.
You step closer to him, frowning at the state he is in.
He stares at you with wide and curious eyes, blinking, his lips are parted in surprise. He looks confused.
“You’re bleeding,” you mumble as you stop in front of him, eying him for a moment. You take his hand, pulling it away from his face, your eyes widen, “fucking Jason, I hate that guy.”
Why is the popular cheerleader talking to him?
His breath hitches in his throat when you press yourself against him to check for more wounds on his face.
“I’m okay,” he whispers.
Eddie can smell your sweet perfume, intoxicating. Your glossy lips are set in a pout when you raise your hand to touch his chest, “can I take care of you?”
“W-What?”
You chuckle at the expression on his face, his red cheeks and the dumbfounded look on his face.
“Can I take care of you? Clean you up?”
He blinks, raising his brows.
What the fuck did he do to get you to even talk to him?
You bat your eyelashes at him, giving him a small smile.
“Is this some prank? Am I about to get jumped by your friends?”
You frown at him, smile falling a little. Yeah, you might be mean and a bit of a bitch to certain people but you are not a bully and you would never do this to someone, let alone him.
“No, I just wanna help.”
He swallows nervously, slumping back against the lockers, he eyes you up and down, the way he always does. Eddie has never really talked to you but he holds the door open for you every chance he gets, giving you cocky smiles when you walk past him, he wasn’t exactly subtle when he would check you out but you liked it, your giggles gave it away.
“Can I help?”
He licks his lips, staring at your soft exposed skin, your beautiful eyes, your lips that curl into a smile when you catch him checking you out, yet again.
He almost forgets about the pain that Jason has caused him.
He doesn’t have to answer your question, you know the answer already, you take his hand in yours, wrapping your fingers around his calloused ones. Leading him through the hallway, you make your way to the restroom.
Eddie stares at you, ignoring the way his stomach flutters when he feels your much smaller hand in his.
He looks down at your little cheer skirt, watching the way it moves softly, your hair bouncing. He clenches his jaw, gripping your hand tighter.
He has dreamed of this way too many times. Getting you alone, flipping your skirt over your ass, pulling your hair as he fucks your tight little hole. He spent too many nights fisting his cock and fantasizing about fucking you in his little cheer uniform.
Crushes never lasted long for Eddie and he wasn’t into any other cheerleaders but you? You were stuck in his mind, you nestled your way into his head, infesting him. You haven’t even touched him, you haven’t even talked to him and yet you were all he could think about.
When you step into the restroom, you slam him against the wall, for a moment he thinks that you will kiss him but instead you turn back, leaning over the sink to reach for the paper towels.
Eddie almost growls at the sight of your skirt moving up. He could just bend you over the sink and take you. God, he feels like a perv. You are being nice, trying to help him and he is here, having all these thoughts about you.
You step in front of him again, brushing his curls back, you grab his jaw and bring the towel up to his face, cleaning the blood off gently.
Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat, his eyes widen yet again when he feels your chest against his, your gentle hand on his face, your soft eyes.
“You poor thing,” you whisper, “he got you good, huh?”
Eddie blinks, “I-It’s not that bad.”
You frown, shaking your head, “you’re bleeding.”
“I’ve had worse.”
He fights the urge to grab your waist.
Your lips look so kissable, so perfect. You are so very beautiful.
“This is bad.”
You’re bad, pressing yourself up against him, acting all innocent. He knows you know what kind of an effect you have on him. He knows you can feel his hardened cock against your lower stomach, you know that he wants you.
“Can I cheer you up?” You ask as you throw the paper towel in the trash without turning away from him. You place one hand on his chest and the other in his hair, playing with his curly hair as you bat your eyelashes at him, “can I make you feel good, Eddie?”
His heart starts racing, a shiver runs down his spine, “w-what?” He knows exactly what you mean but he has to hear you say it.
“Can I cheer you up?” You repeat.
“I– how?”
A smirk tugs at your lips, “you know how,” you purr, sliding your hand down his chest and his stomach, your fingers graze the cuffs on his belt and he already whimpers, you haven’t even touched him yet and he is already whimpering for you.
You place your hand over his clothed dick, palming him.
“Oh, f-fuck.”
“Can I suck your cock, Eddie?” You ask as you stand on your tippy toes, leaning closer and placing your lips on his jawline, “please?”
“You want to suck my cock?” He asks in confusion, why would you want him?
“I always wanted to suck your cock, pretty boy,” you giggle, watching the way his eyes widen and his cheeks flush red, “so… can I? I wanna make you feel good, I wanna take your pain," you say as you caress his cheek with your manicured fingernails.
He shivers, loving the feeling of you against him, touching him like this.
In what world would he ever say no to this or to you? He grabs your waist and walks you back, pushing you into the tiny stall, he locks the door behind him and turns around to look into your eager eyes, cupping your cheeks, he mumbles please.
“Please what, Eddie?” You tease, eyes glinting with amusement.
“Please suck my cock, sweetheart.” He whines, eyes staring back at you with neediness in them.
You slam him against the wall, murmuring good boy as you latch your lips onto his neck. You could see the way he looked at your lips, the way he chased after them when you got close enough, he wanted to kiss you but you will save that for another time.
“You’re adorable, Eddie,” you giggle as you lean in to kiss his jaw again, hands reaching down to unbuckle his belt.
Eddie is breathing heavily, his eyes are still wide, he is still in shock, feeling like this is nothing but a dream that he will wake up from any moment but no, you are here, eagerly sucking at the skin on his neck as you shove your hand into his pants.
You moan against him, “I've thought of this so many times, Eddie.”
He moans and gasps at the same time.
You have dreamed of this?
"I touch my needy pussy and think of your big cock inside of me."
Holy fuck.
“Fuck baby, can you show me?” he pants, tilting his head to give you more access to his neck. You lick and bite and suck on his sensitive skin, marking him up, giving him the hickeys that he always wanted from you. You giggle, the sound shooting straight to his heart.
You giggle, "you wanna see how I touch myself?"
He nods eagerly. You clench your thighs together, sighing as you pull back to look at him, "maybe next time."
Please, don't let this be a dream, he thinks to himself.
“Yes, I– fuck… please.”
You tease him with your hand, holding his cock in your much smaller hand and fuck, does it feel good, it feels so much better than his own hand.
“P-Please,” he whimpers, “if you keep this up, I’m gonna cum in your hand.”
You giggle again, pulling your hand out of his pants, you pull them down in one swift motion, licking your lips as you drop down to your knees, in front of him. The shocked expression on his face, the lustful gaze, the parted lips– god, he looks so fucking good.
“You have such a pretty cock,” you say to him as you wrap your hand around him, pumping him a few times again, earning moans from him. Pre cum is already leaking out, rolling down his length. "So big... are you gonna fuck me sometime, Eddie?"
"Please, fuck yes, I wanna fuck you so bad, baby." He whines.
Your stomach flutters and you can feel yourself getting wet.
You kiss his tip, almost laughing at the gasp he lets out. You keep your eyes on him, staring at him through your lashes as you swirl your tongue around him a few times, watching his reaction closely.
“Oh my– fuck.”
You smirk.
And finally you wrap your lips around him and take him into your mouth, fully. He hits the back of your throat, you bite back the gag, your eyes water but fuck, you love it. You continue to tease him with your tongue as you begin to bop your head.
“H-Holy shit,” he gasps, panting above you as he stares down at you in awe. He reaches his hand down to grab your ponytail, pulling roughly. “Your mouth feels so fucking good,” he moans as he tries to stay still.
“Mhmmm,” you moan around him, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him off.
“Baby… baby,” he whimpers, “you’re taking my cock so well, fuck… you’re such a good girl.”
His moans are loud, echoing through the restroom, he doesn’t even care if anyone is gonna walk in, all he cares about is you.
"W-Who would've thought the pretty cheerleader is a little slut for me?"
You moan and whimper as though it brings you pleasure to suck him off, to choke on his big dick. You look up at him, there’s arrogance in your eyes but also adoration? What the fuck? What kind of gods have blessed him this day?
“You’re such a filthy slut, fuck.” He grunts as his dominance takes over, he grips your hair tighter, pulling out whimpers from you.
His words make you whine, pressing your thighs tighter together. He wasn't supposed to make you feel like this.
Eddie stares at you in awe.
Who would’ve thought that this would ever happen? Maybe he should thank Jason for punching him, maybe he should let him do it again if that means that he would get you like this again.
His words only make you moan even louder, sucking his dick more eagerly. You are desperate for him.
“P-Please don’t stop.”
Your eyes are filled with tears, saliva is dripping down your chin and you are moaning like a bitch in heat. You love this just as much as he does.
He bucks his hips into your mouth, gripping your head tightly causing you to choke around him.
“Shit, I’m sorry–” he whimpers as you interrupt him by hollowing your cheeks tighter around him. Bringing your hand up to play with his balls.
Eddie is in fucking heaven.
This is not a dream, this is very real. You’re here, on your knees, sucking his dick and worshiping him.
His throbbing dick twitches inside of your mouth, prompting you to get more desperate.
“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart,” he whimpers, trying to keep his eyes open because he wants to see you.
Your eyelashes flutter and you look into his eyes eagerly.
“Fuck…. fuck.” He grunts, “I’m– cumming.”
Eddie cums hard. His vision blurs as he spills inside of your mouth. He feels as though you sucked the life out of him. Despite the dizziness, he manages to keep his eyes open, looking down at you, he watches you swallow his cum.
“Holy fuck,” he whines, “you’re so fucking hot.”
You giggle, not bothering to wipe your mouth. You tuck him back in his boxers, helping him put his jeans back on, you fix his belt and get back on your feet. The shocked and fucked out expression on his face makes you giggle.
He is speechless, staring at you in awe.
Eddie’s heart is still racing, his legs feel like jello. What have you done to him?
You brush your fingers through his curls and wipe the sweat off his forehead, leaning in, you press a kiss to his cheek and smile at him.
“If you ever need someone to cheer you up again, you know where to find me,” you wink, giving him pat on the cheek and one last kiss before you make your way out.
Eddie doesn’t even manage to make a sound, let alone form a sentence, he just stares at you, watching you leave.
Only as the door shuts, he comes back to his senses. Staring into blank space as he breathes heavily. A smile tugs at his lips.
“Holy shit.”
He thought that he was blessed that day, that it was just a taste of something he would never have again, not knowing that it was only the beginning of it all.
He didn't know that he would get you again, in open yet secret places.
He didn't know that it wasn't just him who wanted more but also you.
-
tagging some faves @littledemondani @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @mysticmunson @bimbobaggins69
#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson imagines#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson blurb#stranger things smut
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First time ~ LN4
Fluff
Summary: It's Y/n's first Grand Prix as Lando's girlfriend.
Lando x Shy! Sainz! Reader
It's been three months since you got together with Lando. Since Carlos approved it and let his little sister date his best friend. Even though Lando already assured him, Carlos knew that your shyness wouldn't lead to public PDA or other crazy stuff, something he never wanted to witness.
Lando was always at your side, convincing you to go do various new and fun stuff, without making people think you are dating. At least not until his home race. As you passed the three month milestone, making sure the relationship will last, you decided to make it official by going with him to the British Grand Prix.
You went to Britain earlier to have a few days to rest and meet Lando's family. They were very kind and loving people, especially his parents, and because of their request, you and Lando ended up staying with them.
You stayed in his old room, not wanting his mom prepare and clean another guest room. You stayed with them, doing lots of fun things during each day and cuddling in Lando's surprisingly comfy old bed at night.
The days passed quickly and Sunday came in the blink of an eye. You woke up really early to get ready and went with Lando to the circuit. You arrived there, holding Lando's hand, trying not to panic. As you were crossing the hospitalities and other paddock buildings, several fans were approaching Lando asking for photos, autographs and giving him various gifts.
You were approaching the McLaren hospitality when a little girl came to you, gave Lando a bracelet and asked him for a photo. You moved a bit to the side, and the girl dragged you in the camera frame. "Wait, are you Carlos' sister?" "Yeah..." " Why are you with Lando?" "Umm..." You looked at Lando and he nodded approvingly. "I'm his girlfriend." You responded, blushing.
The girl took the photo and left, leaving you alone. You finally went to McLaren's garages, Lando took you to his driver's room, you sat down and put his gifts in a box as he changed into his race suit. Then you went out, in the main garage and Zak took Lando to the side to discuss, leaving you alone to admire the car.
As you were inspecting the car's livery, someone tapped your shoulder, taking you out of your thoughts. "You came with Lando here, so you must be Y/n." He spoke. You looked at him, confused slightly. "H-how do you know my name?" The mechanic smiled. "I'm Will, Lando's race engineer. He talks all the time about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." He raised his hand for a handshake. You didn't shake his hand, embarrassed. "Um... nice to meet you..."
Will noticed your shyness and embarrassment but didn't say anything, as you continued talking about a lot of things, and didn't know when the time for lando to get in his car came. Lando sneaked behind you and hugged you. You turned around and hugged him back, kissing his cheek.
"I see you met Will, princess. I gotta go now, gimme a kiss." You kissed his lips softly. Then he turned to Will. "Take care of her while I race." "Yes sir." Will responded.
Lando got into his car and went to the grid, whilst you were given a headset and will took you in front of some monitors to watch the race. You stayed there, too shy to talk to anyone, and watched the race.
The race ended with Lando getting his first win, Carlos second and Oscar third, thanks to Max's engine having issues, resulting to him DNFing. You followed the rest of the team beneath the podium to cheer for him. He approached you and kissed you hungrily infront of everyone, leaving you all red and flustered.
After he got off the podium, his trophy and a bottle of champagne in his hands, it was time for the team photo. The whole team gathered infront of the garages and got ready for the pic, waiting for Lando. You waited next to the photographer, when a hand dragged you in the camera frame, the camera clicking to take the photo.
A while later, as you were in Lando's driver's room, scrolling through Instagram, you swore you saw the photo of lando dragging you to the camera frame. This was gonna go viral.
Taglist: @pinkswaet @thef1diary @dilemmaontwolegs @changetyre
#f1#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1 fanfic#formula one#lando norris x reader#lando x y/n#lando x reader#lando norris#lando norris fanfic
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HELLO HELLO I HAVE ANOTHER ONE BUT ITS A 2 IN 1????? ALASTOR AND READER REACTING AND HELPING ONE ANOTHER DURING A PANIC ATTACK??????? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
I GOTTA DO IT I JUST GOTTA-
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
TW: Panic attacks
Description: ☝️⬆️
SO-
It's really REALLY difficult to get Alastor to honestly open up to you about ANYTHING, even as his S/O
He will keep everything to himself, not out of any maliciousness but because he's not used to letting his guard down
Hides most of his fears behind his smile and quick wit
But you don't land The Radio Demon himself by not knowing him and his inner turmoil by not seeing the signs
You can see the cracks in his persona before even he can, knowing when he's about to break down
You try to talk to him about it beforehand, but he always brushes you off, telling you that he's fine
He tells himself that he's fine that everything is under control
It's always a little thing that sets him off, the last straw that broke the camel's back
Doesn't even realize that he's losing it until there's tiny tear pricks in the corners of his eyes and he's gripping his head so tight that he's hurt his scalp
Just repeats to himself that everything is fine, everything is okay, he's got everything under control
Breaks your heart when you see his painfully tight smile and watery eyes, shaking like a leaf
"Alastor..? Oh honey..."
Flinches when you place a gentle hand on his back, surprised that you snuck up on him
Tries to lie to you, bottle his emotions back up and may even try to seduce/fluster you depending on how frazzled he is
But you see through it, you always see through him
"Hey no...it's okay to be upset..."
Reluctantly leans on you, letting you hug his head to your chest until his hyperventilating stops and he's soothed by your heartbeat
Will put all of his strength into not letting himself cry, digging his claws into you as he grips you tight
His shaking finally stops once he relaxes into your hold, accepting your comfort
Don't make him explain himself, just help him ride it out until he can be himself again
When you two pull away he'll try to go on as if nothing had happened, springing up with renewed energy
Please don't comment on what happened, he's already embarrassed
"Alastor, come talk to me next time...okay..?"
"...I appreciate the offer, my dear."
That's the most you'll get out of him but he does start listening to you when you tell him to take care of himself
If anybody tries to pry into it then he'll just try to scare them off or redirect their attention
It's hard being so evil
You on the otherhand-
Whether you follow your own advice or not, everyone has a panic every once in a while, it's natural
It sneaks up on you and hits you like a tidal wave when it does happen, you hardly register your body crumpling to the floor
You feel so sick-even the air tastes bad
You can't breathe-where is the air???
Your body is white hot and ice cold all at the same time and your thoughts keep racing and-
You're in someone's lap suddenly, curled into their chest as sharp hand soothing the back of your neck
Your mind is so fuzzy from panic that you can't even recognize who it is, only instinctively leaning into their scent
"Y/N, whatever has you so upset, I promise we can face it together..."
Alastor-
He lets you throw your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder, only holding you tighter in response
Pretends that this is just a normal conversation the entire time, talking endlessly about his day and what he did
Somehow it works and you find yourself calming down, becoming invested in his story
Before you know it, you're laughing at something Alastor said Niffty did and you've forgotten that you were ever even having a panic attack
Alastor doesn't let you go even when you move to get off his lap, unwilling to part with you after seeing you so vulnerable
"Let's just take a little time to be with each other, shall we?"
If you want to talk about it then he'll listen while keeping his lips pressed to your temple, giving you reassuring squeezes
If you don't want to talk about it then that's fine, he's not going to force you or even bring it up again
Either way, the moment you two part ways then he's back to his witty, snarky self and he expects you to be yourself too
If anybody asks, he'll just lie and say you two were playing twister
Charlie two years later: They weren't playing twister...
It's a horrible lie but he doesn't care, he dares them to question him and his precious S/O
I HOPE THIS IS GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!! I wanted it to be soft 😭
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oscar piastri after care
Someone tell me why i have NOT written for op in like YEARS? Guys its a crime
One Lucky Man (OP81)
Summary: After care with OP!
Warnings: insinuations of sex obvi, language, Oscar being lewd
Oscar’s chest heaved up and down as he flopped to the side of Y/n’s body. There was a flush to their faces and sweat clinging to their skin as they turned their heads, smiling softly at each other in the post-sex haze.
“I’d give that a solid 10 out of 10,” Oscar stated, a smirk on his face as he leaned over the mattress and picked his boxers up off the floor, slipping into them and sliding off the bed.
Y/n giggled, “Did you just rate the sex we just had?”
Oscar nodded triumphantly, “Yes, of course, I did. Gotta give credit where credit’s due.”
Y/n, jaw open, scoffed, “I assume you’re referring to crediting yourself.”
His feet stopped him just as he was about to step fully out of the room. He turned around and caught her gaze with a mischievous glint in his, “I did make you come like five times.”
Y/n wasn’t given a chance to respond, Oscar having run down the hall and away from her the moment the sentence left his mouth. She rolled her eyes at his attitude, not genuinely upset seeing as he did make her come five times. When he returned only a few minutes later, in his grasp a granola bar and water, he helped her off the bed.
“Why are you making me leave the cozy bed?” She gave, her hand clutching his as the soreness in her legs threatened a fall to the floor.
He chuckled with a shake of his head, “You have to go to the bathroom, Y/n. Come on, we’re responsible adults, right? Practicing healthy and safe sex, right?”
Y/n grimaced, “Oscar, stop talking like you’re some well educated physician. It’s freaking me out. Plus, we are very much not responsible adults. You just tried to hijack Lando’s car last night and almost crashed it into a pole because you got too excited and hit the gas pedal too hard.”
At the mention of their chaotic dinner with Lando the night before, Oscar let out a guttural laugh. He helped his girlfriend into the bathroom before closing the door, the sound of his chuckles being heard even on the other side of the door.
When she was finished and opened the door back up, Oscar pulled her into his arms again. He laid a kiss in her hair as he dragged her back to bed. Falling onto the heap of blankets, he practically forced the snack and water down her throat.
“Oscar! Oscar! I’m eating it, goddamn.” She laughed as he shoved it into her hand, wrapper somewhere on the floor from when he’d thrown it over his shoulder.
He smiled widely as she chewed, feeling uneasy as he stared at her eating a random granola bar. They passed the water to each other between sips, kisses being shared in the midst of it all as Oscar sidled up next to her.
He lightly pushed her back down to a lying position, tugging her into his side before pulling the comforter over them. Her head stuffed into the crook of his neck, Oscar laid kisses in her hair. His hands ran up and down her back as he started mindlessly talking to her, “Do you know how beautiful you are? I mean, seriously, when I first introduced you to Lando, he pulled me aside and asked how I had managed to even get your number in the first place. It’s cheesy and you’ve probably heard it from guys millions of times before, but I genuinely don’t think I have seen anyone more beautiful than you. I don’t even think words can describe how beautiful I think you are.”
He felt warmth against his neck. He smiled at the blushing she was enduring in the midst of his words, “I don’t care how many times you try to argue me on this. I will never let you win. You’re just… I don’t know. I just love you a lot.”
Y/n pecked his neck in a kiss, “I love you too.”
Oscar shook his head, “Nah, nah, nah, but I love you more.”
Y/n scoffed, “Oscar, no-”
Oscar interrupted her, “No fucking way, Y/n. I love you more. End of discussion. There is absolutely no way anyone could love anything more than I love you.”
She shrugged, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, baby.”
“You help me sleep at night,” He murmured, another kiss to her hairline. She moved away from his body just enough to stare up at him.
She smiled, “You’re a great boyfriend, you know?”
Now was his turn to blush, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You’re just, like, a goddess, so you just deserve it.”
Y/n laughed, “Osc, I’m not a goddess, but thanks.”
He kissed her sweetly, “Sure, tell that to the millions of people online who continuously ask how you ended up with me. I’m one lucky man and everyone knows it.”
#mclaren#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#oscar piasstri#oscar pia#oscar piastri fanfiction#oscar piastri imagines#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri x reader#mclaren formula 1
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Cold!reader accidentally letting a laugh slip after someone tells a joke (preferably Spencer) and the team is just a little shocked
CHECKMATE [ONESHOT]
/ˈtʃɛkˌmeɪt/
morgan and spencer just cannot agree on whether or not chess is actually a fun game to play, dragging you and emily into their debate in hopes of gaining a majority vote.
WARNINGS: fem!reader, playful arguing, chess slander
spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff || 1.1k || series masterlist!!
a/n: do people actually like chess? personally i think it’s really fun but my brother seems to disagree
main masterlist!!
“You play chess in your spare time Reid, at least my hobbies are interesting,” Morgan rolls his eyes with a laugh, leaning against the back of his chair with a confident smirk on his face.
“Chess is interesting,” Spencer furrows his eyebrows slightly at Morgan’s comment, frowning like it was a direct insult to him and not just the game.
It was nine o’clock in the morning, and Spencer and Morgan were having a debate about goddamn chess. What did you do to deserve such torture first thing on a Monday?
Letting Spencer sit opposite you probably, but sometimes he’d basically do your work for you so you suppose it still had its benefits sometimes.
Sometimes being the key word.
Today was not one of those times.
“Interesting to eighty-year-old scholars maybe,” Morgan scoffs at the mere idea that chess could be a fun and intellectual game at the same time.
You didn’t mind chess per se, you wouldn’t choose it as a way to satiate your boredom, but if someone - that someone being Spencer Reid because he was the only one in the office who actually played chess regularly - asked to play a match with you, you wouldn’t turn it down.
“Actually, the average age for competitive chess players is thirty one in the United States,”
Morgan presses his middle finger against his nose bridge like he’s pushing up an imaginary pair of glasses, pointing the index finger of his other hand upwards. “Actually-”
Spencer serves him with a hard push against his shoulder. “Shut up-”
The movement causes Emily to give a little snicker from her own desk, and Morgan takes it as a sign of his victory, clasping his hands together and bringing them to rest behind his head as he crosses his left ankle over his right knee.
“Alright, chess consensus, ‘fun’ or boring?” Morgan throws his arm out to you and Emily as a gesture for your responses.
“Not for me,” Emily’s answer, whilst definitely leaning in Morgan’s favour, is objective enough so that it doesn’t unintentionally insult Spencer’s entire lineage by suggesting that chess can’t be fun.
“Alright, Ice Queen, final vote’s up to you, you can make or break the final verdict here,” Morgan tilts his head dramatically in your direction with his hands outstretched.
You look up from your desk with an exasperated sigh, looking at him through your eyebrows in a clear indication that you don’t want to be involved in the conversation.
“Awe come on don’t look like that, this is very important stuff here,” Its like every word that leaves Morgan’s mouth is just to poke fun at Spencer’s love for playing chess, and as you glance in his direction you can see his eyes on you.
He wanted the answer too. Great.
With an exaggerated groan you lean back in your chair and shrug your shoulders. “It’s fun depending on who you play it with,”
“Oh come on, what kind of half-assed answer is that?” Morgan shakes his head, crossing his arms. “You gotta pick a side here,”
“I’m entirely right,” You mirror Morgan as you cross your arms over your chest. “If you have a shit opponent then obviously it’s going to be boring,” You enunciate your answer as if it applies directly to Morgan himself.
“I am not a ‘shit opponent’,” Morgan rolls his eyes in feigned indignation. “I just get bored half-way through,”
“Because you’re shit and don’t actually know how to play,”
“Not true-”
Spencer’s nodding calls Morgan’s defences insignificant.
“Hey-” Morgan pushes his hand against Spencer’s shoulder. “Don’t agree with her, I’m not bad at chess I just don’t like chess,”
“People who aren’t good at certain activities have a three times higher chance of disliking said activity,” Spencer doesn’t back down from his stance, shrugging lightly with a nonchalant expression.
“Okay, you’re teaming up on me now I’m calling favouritism,” Morgan waves his hands with a shake of his head. “Prentiss back me up here, she is so only siding with Reid because they’re secretly in love with each other,”
“Oh 100%,”
You scoff at Emily’s answer, rolling your eyes. “You’re just defensive because we’re right,”
“Chess is a very intellectual game, maybe you’re just not smart enough to understand it,” Spencer shrugs again as he shoots Morgan down, and a small snicker leaves your mouth at the combination of Spencer’s burn and the look on Morgan’s face as he computes it.
You cover up the tail end of it with a cough, hiding your mouth behind your hand, but it’s not enough to actually cover it up, and Morgan’s face moves from shock to horror as he blinks in your direction. “Am I tripping balls right now or did I just hear a laugh from the robot herself?”
“What? Am I not allowed to laugh now?” You scoff at Morgan’s apparent shock of you being able to experience positive emotions, immediately falling back into your naturally icy demeanour.
“There you are, you got possessed by a spirit of joy there for a second,”
“Shut your mouth,” You throw a crumpled up piece of paper across the desks to hit him square between his eyes and your three coworkers all burst out into laughing fits of their own.
Spencer’s laughter was much quieter than Morgan and Emily’s but it seemed to dominate your ear canals nonetheless, quashing your frustration for Morgan’s attitude under the waves of his voice and again leaving you, as Morgan had so nicely put it, ‘possessed by a spirit of joy’.
He was in a similar state, a small sense of pride flowing through his veins not only because you’d taken his side in his little debate, but also at the fact that he’d managed to make you laugh.
Him. Spencer Reid had actually managed to make the most emotionally guarded person in the whole office actually laugh.
Score one for Spencer.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid fluff#mgg#asks 🫶
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idk if you’re familiar with teen wolf but could i request a fic with loser!Luke who’s similar to Stiles stilinski and aphrodite!reader is similar to lydia. No one sees that reader is more than a pretty cabin 10 girl and idk i think it would be cute if luke recreates the “hi y/n, you look…like you’re gonna ignore me” ugh loser!luke just gives me too much in my feelings
𝒫ℴ𝓅𝓊𝓁𝒶𝓇
I LOVE LOSER LUKE AND TEEN WOLF AHHH
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
“Has she even looked your way?” Chris asked, listening to his brother's fantasies. The two walked through the woods, bags slung over their shoulders.
“A few times. She talks to me when we spar.” He shrugged, “and when we check cabins together.”
“Mmm… right, and in those few times she’s become interested in you? You have to make some sort of effort.”
“Why wouldn’t she be?” He joked; Chris chuckled.
“Because she’s Aphrodite’s favorite, she’s the most popular girl at camp, almost every guy wants to be with her, and every girl admires her. She beats you in sword fighting from time to time and she’s a God at archery.”
“I still gotta chance. And she does not beat me in sword fighting.” He shrugged, a small smile on his face.
“Mhm..”
He nudged Chris and asked him, “what about you? You got your eyes on anyone?”
“Nah.” He shook his head.
The two continued chatting and walking, when Luke saw someone coming up quickly in the corner of his eye.
Chris nudged him this time, raising his eyebrows.
“Hey y/n, you look…” Luke began to say, but you just walked past him, not acknowledging him.
“Like you’re gonna ignore me.” He mumbled to himself, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment as Chris laughed at him.
“Shut up.” He groaned, rolling his eyes at Chris.
And it was just his luck that you were heading to the same spot as him.
The ocean was a common spot for campers to get away and escape. It was a long walk there but it was worth it, it was beautiful and it was quiet.
But today was Sunday, most kids would be having fun with their friends and taking this day off. You were heading there to practice.
Soon, they had reached it and they saw you already there, ready with your bow in hand. There was a few targets on the trees. They watched you, looking like dears in headlights when you turned to look at them.
“Can I help you..?” You asked them, slightly annoyed.
“No. No. Sorry.” Chris said, grabbing Luke’s arm and dragging him as far as possible and onto the sand.
“She’s so…” he mumbled to himself, as he took off his shirt and turned back to face you. He took off his jeans, his shorts underneath.
You furrowed an eyebrow as you saw him, he messed up your shot as you turned to look at him. Jesus, he was ripped. You thought.
“You have it bad, you know that? She’s not even using charmspeak.” Chris replied. “Turn back around, you look creepy.”
Luke obliged, turning to look at Chris now as he took off his own shirt and jeans, his swimming shorts underneath.
The two raced to the water, jumping in. Luke had won, the two laughing.
You focused on your shooting, however. Trying your best to ignore the pair. They swam around, racing each other while talking loudly. They then sat down on the sand, shaking their heads and wet curls.
You sat down against a tree, downing your water. Chris began talking but Luke wasn't listening. He watched you, and Chris smirked at him.
"Go talk to her."
"What?" he asked, as if it was the craziest thing he's ever heard.
"Go talk to her, man."
"About what?"
"Just talk to her." he shrugged, softly pushing Luke.
"Alright, alright." He said, standing up. and slowly walking towards you. You glanced at him, and he gave you a small smile and sat next to you. You took in a deep breath.
"Hi." He said.
"Hi..."
Now that you were looking at him more closely, he wasn't bad looking, not at all.
"It's uh, y/n, right?"
You nodded. But you knew that he already knew that. "Its Luke, isn't it?"
Holy shit you knew his name. He was trying to contain a smile, his heart raced. He nodded slowly, and you laughed quietly as you noticed him staring at you.
"Well? Did you need something or just my name, gorgeous?"
He swallowed the lump in his throat, and his eyes went wide. Oh my God, you called him gorgeous. He didn't know what to say. You smiled and tilted your head at him, waiting on a response.
"No, sorry." He cleared his throat. "Just... Yeah, I'm gonna go, it was nice talking to you." He said, standing up, and almost tripping as he ran back to Chris.
What an interesting boy, you thought to yourself as you stared at him, and when he turned back you gave him a small smile, a pink tint on his face.
#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan#pjo#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo tv show#pjo fandom#pjo series#charlie bushnell x reader
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would you consider writing headcanons for percy and a mortal reader? like maybe someone he can’t help but fall for even though he’s afraid of putting them in danger given the differences in their worlds? i love your writing by the way!
⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x mortal! reader hcs
content: percy jackson x mortal! reader hcs
warning: language, mentions of death and blood and all that gross stuff
author's note: i thought this one was gonna be a pain in my but to write but it was actually so cutesy???? also the last line is brutal i know but i couldn't help myself. so good, love love love. hope you guys like it too!!
you guys met in school, obvi
percy was struggling to read the board and you could tell, silently sliding your notes over to him and pretending not to, just to save him the embarrassment
"thank you for...ya know," percy muttered once the teacher turned her back.
"of course. my eyes bug out sometimes too. we gotta look out for each other," the girl mused back, a soft smile on her face as she playfully winked at him.
his stomach instantly became an olympic athlete, doing flips and twists like nobody’s business
he knew it wouldn't work out though
she was, probably, just another mortal and he wasn't willing to put her life in danger
even if she was super cute
and sweet
and caring
did i mention cute? okay, just checking.
but, he indulged a little bit, allowing side conversations during class and sharing of lunches
but no more, he promised himself
and then he kissed her
yeah, that promise didn't last long
it was fine and he lied...a lot.
"oh, cute necklace! is that from like a summer camp or something?"
"something like that, yeah."
"you've got so many scars, percy. you must be like super clumsy."
"sooooo clumsy. ha..."
"you mind if i borrow this pen real quick? i just need to-"
"NO NOT THAT PEN- sorry, sorry, here’s another one. that ones, er, special."
he didn't want to lie, really, but he also didn't want to hurt her.
to know is to put her in danger
and he couldn't have that
she’d met his mom, obviously she was the most important thing in his life
not just anybody meets mrs. sally jackson
and then, while riding the subway on the way to the aquarium for a date, it happened.
becuase of course it did.
percy was holding onto the pole, his free hand firmly resting on her waist and holding her close and away from the creeps of the new york undergrounds
"percy...why's that guy staring at you like that?" the girl whispered up to him.
percy's eyes instantly darting in the direction she nodded to, ready to scare off anyone who dared to look at his girlfriend in the wrong way
but then he faltered, his shoulder's sinking and his brain working double time to figure out how to get her out of here safety and deal with the monster.
"peresus jackson. i think this is your stop," the man hissed, standing up from his seat and shoving aside new yorkers as he approached.
percy pushed y/n behind him, taking a protective stand as he dug riptide out of his pocket
"nope. we're going all the way madison today. nice try," percy replied, uncapping riptide.
"percy?! is that a sword?" y/n asked in her panic, causing percy to turn to her with a furrowed brow.
"you can see this?" he holds riptide up for emphasis
"yes! obviously!"
"hold that thought," he said before swinging at the monster.
all the other new yorkers quickly scrambled to one side of the train, whipping their phones out and recording.
y/n slapped these phones down with a glare, shaking her head at them. 
she wasn’t entirely sure what was going on but she wasn’t just gonna let them record percy with a sword. That would surely land him in juvie.
percy, once done with the monster, quickly grabbed hold of y/n wrist and pulled her out of the subway just as the doors slammed shut behind them.
he dragged her with him, running all the way until he found a secluded ally to duck into, his eyes rapidly looking around for more danger.
"percy, what's going on?! where did you get a sword?! why do you even carry that on you and why did that man want to kill you and-"
"are you okay?" percy whispered through her worried rant and she stopped, nodding up at him.
"y-yeah, i'm okay. are you?"
"i've fought worse."
"percy...what do you mean? be honest with me...please," she all but begged and percy hung his head, hoping to avoid this moment for his whole life.
"it's gonna sound crazy."
"tell me anyway."
so he did.
he told her everything, correcting every lie he told her, every half-truth.
she listened, nodding along and asking the occasional question, but mainly listening
"so, yeah, that's everything."
"what i'm hearing is my boyfriend is a total badass."
"that's what you got out of that?!?! not the whole 'half-god' thing?!?!?"
"i kinda already figured that. i mean, look at you-"
"shut up."
a few weeks later, while they were hanging out in percy's room and sally was making cookies for them, is when the reality of it all hit y/n.
"percy?" she whispered, causing the boy to pull his eyes from the movie that was on and look down at her.
"yeah?"
"am i...am i gonna be in, like, danger? with you?"
"honestly? yes. every second you spend with me is probably another year you lose from your life."
there was pause, percy swallowing thickly before opening his mouth to give her permission to leave, he'd understand. hades, he'd do the same.
"okay," she replied with a shrug, cuddling closer.
"you sure?" he pushed, thought he really didn't want her to change her mind.
"thirty seconds spent with you is worth thirty years without you to me. easily."
#postcards from covey ౨ৎ#all my love ౨ৎ#percy jackson#pjo#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo fandom#percy jackson x reader
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Chaos - Bucky Barnes
Authors Note: terribly written but I'm clearing out my drafts
Warning: mentions of abuse
Word Count: 2340
Part One Here
Enjoy!
“What the hell happened?” Cho snaps, moving to the gurney being pushed in and surveying the amount of blood that was spilling. “Back up! I need room, someone page Stark immediately!”
The lights of the tower flicker under the storm, and Steve watches as Cho’s team wheels the gurney away quickly, his hand shaking heavily. Panic claws at his throat as the scene from earlier unfolds in his mind once more, turning slowly to the redhead beside him.
“Steve-” She starts before he shakes his head.
“Nat, this is not a conversation you want to have with me right now.” He sighs, bringing a hand up to pinch his nose before he realizes it’s coated in blood and pulls it back sharply. “I need to shower.”
He storms off, shoulders squared as he thinks about all the reports he is about to fill out.
-
“We won’t have much time, in and out as fast as we can. Everyone has their tasks?” Steve asks, making sure everyone nods back to him before making eye contact with you. “Y/n, I know this will be your first mission-”
“We should go before the storm gets any worse.” You interrupt, fixing your headset and moving to the bay of the quinjet, grabbing your bag before being the first to leave the ship and rushing to leave them behind.
“Slow down Y/n.” You hear Bucky warn in your earpiece, and normally you would turn around to wait for him. But he wasn’t your partner on the mission today, so you didn’t turn and kept the same pace. They could catch up if they wanted.
Bucky stops in his tracks when he sees you march off, not bothering to turn to him, his heart thundering in his chest. Normally you would slow down for him, normally he would have your back during missions.
It was a slow realization that you would be alone.
“Maybe we should-” He starts, feeling like a fool as Sam turns to look.
“We gotta go, come on man.” He mumbles, watching as Nat takes lead.
It was going to be a simple mission, in and out, Bucky reminds himself. Taking a deep breath before following the rest.
-
“We need a report,” Tony sighs, tracing through the footage of the mission, eyes widening at the fight. “I’ve never….”
“Tony, I’ve never seen it before. And it’s my fault.” Nat sighs, rubbing her hand across her face. “I got involved.”
“How?”
“I got in Bucky’s head a bit. I was just worried-”
“Worried about what?”
“About Bucky and- I just remember coming out of the red room and being so attached to Clint. I had no family, no story, no morals. I was just pain. I was in pain myself and I inflicted pain onto others.”
“You went through something terrible-”
“THEY WENT THROUGH SOMETHING TERRIBLE! Bucky went through 70 years of it and the experiments they ran on Y/n….. I just wanted them to safe. I didn’t want them to get hurt.” She sighs, picking at her hair. “I love them both and I just wanted them to take a break. Maybe they would see how much they needed each other, and they would finally admit it to each other.”
“You should know by now that Barnes never thinks the way we do.”
“He thinks he is going to ruin everything he touches.”
“I know someone like that.” Clint interrupts from the door, giving Nat a small smirk. “Let’s just take a night to rest, Cho will update us if need be.”
-
It had turned into a mess too fast, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The rain covered most of your vision as the walls of the compound seemed to be closing in quickly, the others screaming over the intercoms as they had been ambushed.
You had been tasked to get the files from the lower levels of the compound, and you had planned to get it done quickly. You had not planned, however, to be locked in the basement as it began flooding.
“GUYS!” You should, tears springing from your eyes as you cling to the door, the water reaching your ankles at the top of the stairs.
“They blew up the dam-” Sams voice cuts through, half static half radio. “Steve, to your right-”
Gunshots could be heard in the background, Natasha cursing and you truly did not think they could hear you at all anymore. “Shit.”
Instead of clinging to the door you turn to survey another way out of the room, eyes scanning over every inch of space to find your exit. The intercom in your hear rumbles with static before your name breaks through, Bucky’s voice sounding panicked. The next thing you know the intercoms have a sharp ringing through them that makes you gasp out and tear it from your ear quickly, dropping it in the water and diving in to find a way out.
-
Bucky curses as he tears the intercom from his ear, dodging a bullet quickly and diving behind a wall as Nat stays covered by her own, making eye contact for a second as she tears her own comns out.
First the heavy explosion that shook them down, the dam breaking and water beginning to flood, Hydra soldiers attacking them and now their comns were down. Worst of all Bucky could not find you.
Heart thundering through his ribs as he bites at his tongue to keep from grunting in pain when he realizes he had been shot, but right now that doesn't matter. He had to find you.
“I have to find Y/n!” He shouts, watching Nat nod before he dashes to the exit that you were supposed to use. Just as he reaches the metal door something loosens in his chest, knowing you would were near and he could find you. He would never let you go he swore to god.
He pulls the door, desperate to get to you, only to find it sealed shut. So his metal hand takes charge, bending into the metal as he grunts out, doing his best to get it off. A shout of pain fills the air as Sam comes into view, moving to help Bucky tear the door off.
They make eye contact for a moment, the rain beating down on them before a blast of light blows them to the side, heat covering their bodies as they ram into the wall.
Bucky’s head slams into brick, he hears Steve shout and Sam scream out in pain before it all goes blank.
He would never see the chaos erupt.
-
Steve is up the second the sun filters through the curtains, happy to finally get to leave his room and check on his friends' health.
Nat is already waiting for him in the front hall of the med bay, a nervous look on her face as Steve walks past her to speak with Cho.”Any update?”
“He’s breathing.” She sighs. “And he was so lucky Y/n was there.”
-
You could hear the explosion from under the water, and in a panic you swam back up, only to find that the water had flooded to the roof and your face was pressed to the ceiling to catch your breath.
Taking a moment to breathe as you hear Sam scream in pain, there was a pain in yoru chest that you couldn’t explain. It felt like a panic attack but worse, you couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t stop crying.
“PLEASE!” You scream, hands pressing to the ceiling as the water gets worse.
“Stop crying!” A voice breaks out, and you whip your head to find your old boss, the man that had thrown you into your first cell. The man that had ruined you.
He was standing in the center of the room, and you had to blink for a moment to realize that there was no water, and you were completely dry.
“W-what?”
“Stand up!” You listen to him immediately, just as you used to, the tears still streaming down your face as you look around the room. It was different now, when you had come in it had looked like a simple office, now it was your cell.
Or had it always been your cell?
Who was screaming?
“I SAID STAND UP!” Doctor Cornell shouts, stomping forward to drag you up himself, a slap tearing across your face as you cry out.
“Where’s Bucky?” You gasp, the pain in your cheek fading away quickly. “I want to find Bucky.”
“You think he wants you?” Cornell laughs bitterly. “No one wants you, I’ve made you a fucking freak.”
“I want b-” Before you can finish your sentence you remember Bucky ignoring you, avoiding you….. And then you realize why. Cornell was right, he had made you a freak. You were a monster.
A sob racks through your chest, and the painful feeling explodes.
You try to scream out, only for your lungs to fill with water and more panic to take place.
-
Steve could not believe his eyes, holding Sam's abdomen tightly in an attempt to stop the blood, watching as vines burst from the basement and travel across every surface faster then he ever thought possible.
“Is that……” Steve starts, looking to where Nat was trying to get Bucky up.
“Y/n.”
Sam gasps out as the vines wrap around him, tightening around his wound and glowing a deep golden color as some of the blood stops, the vines traveling further and wrapping around the Hydra soldiers tightly to stop them all.
Now that Sam's wound is being taken care of, Steve dashes to dive in the water, swimming down to try and find where you were. Only you were nowhere to be found, whatsoever.
By the time he comes back up he is panting for air, watching as Bucky kneels by the water with blood leaking down his face and panicked eyes looking at his friend. “Where is she?”
“She’s not down there.” Steve gasps.
“STEVE WHERE IS SHE?!” Bucky snaps, the water reaching his waist as Nat moves to snatch him back.
“The vines are dying, Y/n can’t hold them off forever. We gotta go.” She rushes out, snatching the back of Buckys vest.
“NOT WITHOUT Y/N-”
“Bucky. Y/n is holding them off but we have to get Sam out of here. Please.”
-
“Any word on Y/n?” Bruce asks, coming into the surveillance room where Clint is deep diving into the footage.
“I can’t find her.” He admits, eyes never leaving the screen. “I would love some help.”
“You got it.”
“Lock the door before Barnes comes in and bothers me again.” He sighs, watching Bruce lock it. It was a joke, but he knew that Barnes was hurting. He could understand that.
-
Bucky woke up in a startled panic, reaching to your side of the bed quickly, sitting up to find you when he doesn’t feel you. “Y/n?”
His voice is scratchy, a mix of all the screaming from yesterday, and he slowly realizes you aren’t there as the memories resurface.You weren’t here, you were gone. They weren’t able to find you yesterday.
A knock sounds at the door and Bucky jumps up, excitement filling him as he rushes to answer, hoping to see your face on the other side of the door, only to find Steve on the other side. His heart plummets to his stomach as his friend looks at him softly.
“You found your way to her apartments then?”
“I think I came here immediately yesterday.” He answers truthfully, letting Steve in before looking around the room, seeing all the dead plants. “How did her plants die in a day?”
“Buck…..” Steve starts, and Bucky tenses, fists clenched as he turns to his friend. “It’s been…. It’s been a week.”
“What?” Bucky laughs, flinching as Steve turns on the light.
“It’s been a week. You came here the night we brought you back and you passed out, I think because of the head injury-”
“If it’s been a week then where is my doll?”
“We…. we can’t find her Buck.” Steve sighs, rubbing between his eyes. “I think it’s time you and I talked about some things-”
“Talk about things? I can’t talk I have to go find her Steve-” He moves to pass his friend but Steve shoots his hand out to catch him.
“I think it’s time to admit you love her.”
-
Freak freak freak freak freak.
Your mouth was dry and your feet hurt, this was the only thing you could comprehend.
The lady in the market was staring at you wildly, looking terrified as she reached a hand towards you, concern flashing through her eyes. “Are you okay?”
She had a heavy accent, one that reminded you of someone, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. What was it…..russian?
“Do you want me to call someone?” She asks, rubbing your shoulders. “What’s your name?”
“I…..I’m….” Who were you? You blinked slowly, trying to remember who you were. All you saw was a flash of someone with a metal arm before you were met with a bald man in a lab coat. “I… don’t…. Who am I?”
-
Bucky finds himself in the med bay the next morning after a long lecture from Steve, staring at Sam as his friend runs on the treadmill.
“I… I am so confused. Steve said you were in critical condition?”
“He was.” Cho answers in amazement, reading the stats that Sam is sending through the tech pad in her hands. “But he is completely healed.”
“How?”
“Y/n, there were traces of her vines left in the wound. It’s completely healed now.”
“Her…. she’s never done that before.” Bucky mumbles, a tight feeling in his chest. “What do you think it means?”
“I think we need to find Y/n, as fast as we can. That was way too much energy used.” Cho answers, a grim expression on her face.
Bucky could do that, he would tear apart the world to find you.
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Blood Sugar
England Lionesses x Teen!Reader
Summary: You have a hypo during a match
Your sugar levels were fine at the start of the match.
You'd checked them before you went out. They were fine and it's not like your diabetes were a new thing. You knew how to control them.
"Looking good?" Alessia asks as you press your monitor against the patch attached to your arm.
It takes a few seconds for it to flash up but you nod.
"Good."
She grins, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "Excellent. Can't have one of our midfielders out of it. Who else will feed me balls?"
You roll your eyes. "Don't act like I'm the only one doing my job."
Lessi pinches your cheek. "But you're my favourite! Look at you! All cute and tiny!"
"Leave me alone!"
You try to shove her away but she just holds onto you firmer.
You'd known Alessia for years. You used to live next door to each other before she went to college in America and she'd been obsessed with you ever since you got placed into her arms as a baby.
She'd been overjoyed to see you on the team sheet for the Euro's and then now for the Finalissima. It helped, of course, that you and Alessia had racked up the most assist to goal pairings on the entire team.
"Leave her alone, Less," Leah says with an eye roll," We need her in tip-top shape, not looking like a tomato."
Alessia huffs as you put away your glucose monitor and dart around her, taking refuge with Keira and Lucy. You stick your tongue out at her as you pass.
You feel good during the first half, feeding the ball to Tooney, who scores. You feel good during halftime too, though you forget to check your glucose monitor.
You'd had it in your hand ready and waiting but Mary had caught you in conversation for the entirety of the break and it had completely slipped your mind.
Things took a turn for the worst about halfway through the second half. Your arms suddenly felt too heavy for your body and your mouth had gotten very dry, very quickly.
You sway on your feet and just manage to get the ball out from under your feet and to Keira to run up to Brazil's half. You stumble a little bit.
You're sweating now too, badly. You're sweating too much even for someone who has been on the pitch for nearly ninety minutes. You can feel your legs shaking too and you have to back up to keep your footing.
"Hey, what's going on? Is something wrong?"
The thick scouse accent from behind you means you've bumped into Alex and you practically go limp against her. She notices that too and immediately makes sure you stay upright.
Your head flops back like your neck can no longer support it. It's probably for the best because your vision has gone blurry and your head is swimming.
It takes all your concentration to move your lips in some semblance of words even though it comes out all garbled and slurred.
"'m goin' to pass out soon," You manage to say," Low sugar, I thin'." You draw in a ragged breath. "Meds have got...got..."
"Hey!" Alex shakes you. "The medics have got a...?"
"Gotta gluca...a gluca-"
You don't get to finish your sentence because you got fully limp now. Alex lays you on the ground, gesturing wildly to the medics and to the ref and to everyone who will see.
Leah's the first person to come skidding in, her hand immediately going to your pulse.
"What happened?!"
"I dont know!" Alex replies," She suddenly went all funny. She's sweating buckets! Er..." She shakes her head as she tries to clear her thoughts. "She said something about the medics having a...a gluca-something? I don't know. She passed out before she could finish."
"A glucagon injection," Alessia says as she comes running in as well," Fuck, her sugar levels must have tanked."
"She's right," The first medic says, shoving a glucose monitor onto your sensor," These are low. It's a wonder she didn't pass out earlier."
No one's really listening to him, least of all Alessia, who's rummaging through the first aid kit in search of something. Another medic is waving for a stretcher and a third one is pulling up the bottom of your shorts and cleaning off the top of your thigh with a cotton swab doused in alcohol.
"And she didn't hit her head?" The fourth medic is asking Alex, who shakes her head.
"No. She stumbled a bit but I caught her. She didn't hit anything. Just passed straight out in my arms."
Leah doesn't really know what else to do but stare. The whole team has joined them, forming a huddle around your unconscious body to block the cameras from seeing.
It's a pretty severe thing happening because the officials have even let Sarina on the pitch and she has joined the huddle with the rest of the staff to keep your privacy.
When Leah manages to tear her gaze from you, it lands on Alessia. She's at your other side, ripping open a small plastic box in a hurry. She uncaps a small glass bottle of powder and stabs a syringe into it, pushing all of the liquid into it.
She shakes the bottle a few times before turning it upside down and drawing it all back into the syringe.
"You need to roll her over once it's in," She says and Leah and a few of the medics immediately grab parts of you to pull on.
"Alessia," The first medic says," Do you need me to do this?"
"I've done it before!" Alessia snaps," As soon as I take the needle out, roll her in case she throws up. Okay? One. Two. Three!"
The needle finds a home in the top of your thigh, the area that had been disinfected. Alessia jabs the needle in and pushes down. As soon as she takes it out, Leah tugs on your shoulder to get you on your side.
"I need to come off," Alessia says to Sarina as you're carefully loaded onto a stretcher," I have to be with her. She'll be disorientated when she wakes up."
"Go," Sarina says," Be with her."
The match ends in a penalty shootout but everyone seems to be in the same mind because the medal ceremony is delayed until after you've been checked.
You're looking a lot better when Leah and the others burst into the physio's room. You're sitting upright with Alessia by your side, forcing a sugary drink down your throat.
It's clear that this has been going on for a while because there's another empty can of your favourite nearby and a packet of haribos in your hand.
"You scared us," Leah says.
"Did we win?"
"No talking!" Alessia snaps," Drink! All of it!"
You flash an amused smile at Leah but do as you're told.
"We won," Mary confirms," Penalty shootout but we did it. Could have done without the scare though."
"Sorry," You say with a wince," If it helps, I didn't plan it."
"Thank god for that," Alex mutters," Because that wasn't fun, kid. I thought you were dying."
"Just a bad hypo," You say and Lessi swats you.
"Stop making fun of dangerous situations," She scolds," I don't like having to give you injections so often."
You roll your eyes. "You've done it twice in my entire life!"
"Three times now! You're going to give me a heart attack one day."
"Well, can you have that heart attack later? We've got medals to collect."
#woso x reader#engwnt x reader#engwnt#england lionesses x reader#england lionesses#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso
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Disillusioned
Summary: Every time I tried to take a step closer, he took a step back. Falling in love with Bucky Barnes was easy, but the distance he kept between us was torture.
Pairing: Bucky x female!Reader
Genre: Angst, happy ending(?)
Warnings: Smut! And minor character death
Length: 3.5k
A/N: My love for Bucky/Sebastian Stan has inspired me to write again 💕 Enjoy (I hope)!
He was having a nightmare.
Bucky didn't often agree to stay the night - I suspected this was part of the reason why. I woke up to sounds of grunting and the loud grinding of his jaw, my bleary eyes adjusting to the view in front of me.
Moonlight illuminated his profile, his eyes shut and brow furrowed, a thin sheen of sweat on his face. He was still asleep, his fists clenching the sheets as I slowly extended a hand.
"Bucky," I whispered, my voice hoarse. I cleared my throat, touching his naked shoulder gingerly. "Bucky," I repeated louder.
He stirred then, eyes snapping open. He almost looked shocked to see me in bed with him, as if he'd forgotten where he was. He pushed himself to sit upright with a sharp inhale, jaw still clenched.
"Are you okay?" I asked, propping myself up with one elbow, concern laced through my voice despite the exhaustion.
"M'fine," Bucky replied in a tone that told me he was most definitely not fine. He wasn't even looking at me, his blue eyes looking at the wall, distant, as if he was recalling an unpleasant memory. Or as if he just didn't want to look at my face. "I gotta go."
"Now?" I glanced at my alarm clock. It wasn't even 4am.
"Yeah." Bucky stood up, and I blushed despite myself at his naked form. My cheeks burned further as I recalled the particularly heated session we had just a few hours ago, both of us collapsing into a sweaty mess. I had whispered a Please, can you stay? to him before I was lulled into sleep, surprised when he had simply grunted and stayed by my side.
"Wait, Bucky - " I reached out instinctively and held onto his right hand, which felt colder than his vibranium one when he almost instantly snatched it away. I faltered, biting down onto my lower lip. "Can we - what's the rush?"
This happened all the time. Whenever I was lucky enough to have Bucky fall asleep by my side, more often than not, he would wake up from the nightmares and just leave, no matter what the hour was. We had never even slept through a sunrise together.
"I have things to do," was his response, his eyes never once meeting mine.
I clutched the sheets against my torso, feeling the all-too familiar cold, creeping feeling in my chest. That feeling of rejection, the feeling of unhappiness when I remembered that Bucky and I weren't really anything, not really. Not quite friends, not quite lovers, and definitely not a couple. He had made that clear.
"Can we just talk for five minutes?" I asked quietly as Bucky hurried to get dressed, his clothes flung haphazardly around my bedroom.
"About what?"
Anything, I wanted to scream. What do you call it when you are so unbelievably in love with someone, so desperate to keep them in your life that you are willing to just be someone that they came to whenever they wanted some casual company, a warm body, some fun? The word I was searching for was "pathetic", probably.
"Do you want to talk about your nightmares?" I asked, picking my nails nervously. I watched as Bucky paused pulling on his shirt for just a millisecond, almost as if he was caught off guard by my query.
"I don't talk about them," Bucky said after a moment, shaking his head.
"Don't you think you might feel better if you -"
"Look," Bucky said sharply, turning to face me. His stern expression softened ever so slightly at the sight of my face, which no doubt looked as torn and pitiful as I felt in that moment. I knew that I had no place to act as if I could help him in any way - what could I possibly do for him?
Bucky's lips formed a tight smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"I appreciate the concern. But there's nothing you can do to help me."
Right. Just as I thought.
For some reason, this statement almost made me want to cry. It was another subtle reminder of that tiny spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, I had some small weighting to Bucky's life. Maybe I wasn't just a girl that Bucky came to when he wanted to let off some steam. A spark that was always being snuffed out like a candle.
Bucky left quietly and without so much as a goodbye. The room felt so much emptier without him in it.
Sometimes, I felt that Bucky might genuinely care for me.
Whenever he came to see me, it wasn't always just sex. Sometimes we would spend time together doing things like a normal couple might do - he would help me with random errands, have dinner with me, sometimes even tell me stories from his past, a glimpse into his history.
But it was hot and cold with him. Whenever I dared to let myself believe that Bucky was opening up to me, he would suddenly slam the door shut and leave me out in the cold again.
Bucky Barnes made me weak. I was so willing to give my heart to this man who didn't even know what to do with it.
We were in my apartment on a Sunday afternoon as he tinkered about with the plumbing in my bathroom, offering to help me fix it when he saw that it was leaking. I watched with a small smile on my face as I handed him various tools, watching his face scrunched up in concentration.
My phone lit-up, chiming suddenly with six consecutive notifications. Bucky saw my grimace as I glanced at the screen and switched it to silent.
"What's that?" He asked, grunting as he inspected the bathroom pipes, turning his back to me.
"Um." I paused, my tongue darting out to wet my lips. "This guy that my sister is trying to set me up with. She gave him my number and he's been pestering me." I tried to keep my voice light hearted, but the words fell out like lead. My statement was true, but I couldn't care less about this guy - I couldn't even remember his name. I was just playing the childish tactic of trying to make Bucky feel jealous.
Bucky's hands stilled, just for a second, before they resumed their movement. He couldn't have sounded less interested if he tried when he responded, "Give it a go."
I blinked, my gut twisting.
"What?"
Bucky shrugged. "Maybe dating someone will do you some good."
My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach. I didn't know why I was always so keen to self-inflict this pain. It was as if I needed to constantly remind myself that Bucky just didn't want me in that way, until I would get the message.
"Yeah. Maybe."
When Bucky fucked me that night, he held me tighter than usual.
His forehead pressed against mine, our lips pressed together in an angry kiss, his tongue wet and hot in my mouth. He thrust inside me again and again and again, hips snapping as his hands circled themselves around my wrists, holding them above my head.
His mouth opened and he gasped, my back arching with pleasure as his cock continued to slide in and out of me, searching for release.
He came inside me with a moan, his mouth latching onto my neck to leave a hickey, marking my skin, his chest shuddering on top of mine as he came down from his high.
As usual, he left shortly after despite my quiet request for him to stay.
When my friends asked me how I would be spending my birthday, I lied and said I just wanted to spend it alone. Alone with Bucky.
I was delighted when I asked Bucky if he would have dinner with me on my birthday. He nodded and promised he would be there.
I sat in my apartment, clothed in a little red dress that I was sure Bucky would like. I was bouncing on my feet in excitement when he finally knocked on the door, and I beamed at him when I answered.
He was dressed in dark jeans, navy shirt and my favourite leather jacket of his. He looked me up and down, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smile.
"You look pretty," he said unexpectedly, his voice sincere.
I blushed, my cheeks on fire. "Thank you."
This was exactly how I wanted to spend my day. With Bucky, having dinner in a tiny little French restaurant that we had both discovered one day months ago, walking along the river afterwards as the sun set. I wanted to hold his hand so much, wanted to cling onto his arm, but I knew better than to do so.
"I need to tell you something," Bucky said solemnly as I smiled. I felt so unbelievably happy with him in this moment. This was one of those moments I managed to tell myself that I could accept being his not-quite-a-lover-and-not-quite-a-friend as long as he was by my side.
"What is it?" My smile faded slowly as he met my eyes, his expression stoic.
"I want you to be happy," he said carefully. "You deserve it." The words hung in the air as I waited for him to continue, not even daring to guess what he really wanted to say. "I know how you feel about me."
"How do I feel about you?" I challenged softly. I had never said the words out loud, but I knew that he knew. I just wanted to hear him say it.
"I know you love me," he said after a long pause. The sound of the water filled the silence as I looked at him, unsure of what he would say next. "I want you to be happy, but you know I can't give that to you."
There was a long, strained silence. "Why not?" I asked, my chest tightening. I knew I was being stupid, pathetic even, just by asking the question. "You never even gave us a chance."
I don't deserve one.
"You knew from the beginning that this could never be anything more than what it is," Bucky said, his tone gentle but his eyes hard.
"Why?" I repeated, frustration bubbling.
"Because I don't do relationships," Bucky retorted, voice now sharp. His words stuck themselves into me like needles. "I want you to be happy, really. Truly. But I can't give you a happy ending."
Why did it feel like he was breaking up with me when there was no relationship to break in the first place?
"So now what?" I whispered, trying desperately not to cry. Not in front of him, please. I wanted to know if he ever felt anything for me. I wanted to know if there was ever a time where he might have considered loving me back.
"I'll be leaving the city tomorrow. For good."
I had no right to ask him to stay. Bucky Barnes was his own person, and he would do what he wanted to. I was inconsequential, a nothing. I had let myself become so caught up in this fantasy and my stupid hope, setting myself up for failure.
"Okay."
Love was such a fucking trap. Bucky had tried the whole dating thing in the past, naively thinking that maybe, he could actually find someone and get a taste of normalcy. Before he met her, he had dated a few different girls, but something never felt quite right.
And then she exploded into his life, all smiles and positivity and everything that Bucky might actually need and want.
It fucking terrified him.
He fell in love so quickly with her. It felt so easy, so right. But as soon as he made that realisation, he also knew - love was dangerous. She was so delicate, so trusting, Bucky felt like he wanted to be around her to protect her always.
But having her meant that she would always be in danger. There would always be a threat, lying dormant, until one day something would happen to her. As long as Bucky cared about her, she would always be something to lose.
Sam said he was being dumb. That he was hurting her by teasing her with Bucky's presence and yet always being just out of her reach.
Bucky was selfish. He just didn't want to let her go, even if it meant that every time she took a step forward, he would take a step back and watch her heart get crushed.
But it wasn't sustainable. He knew he had to bite the bullet and leave eventually.
He just told himself that he would do it the day after. Or the day after. Or the day after that.
He just always wanted one more day with her.
Bucky had left two months ago.
Those two months passed by like my own personal hell. The calls left unanswered, the texts left unread. I felt so pathetic as I stared at our WhatsApp conversation, my words being fired off despite telling myself that I shouldn't.
Wed 7 Dec - How are you?
Fri 9 Dec - Where are you right now? Thinking about you.
Mon 19 Dec - I know you won't answer. I don't even know why I bother you text you these. I just want to know if I ever meant anything to you.
Sat 24 Dec - I think I was so stupid to love you.
I don't know what else I expected. He was the famous Bucky Barnes, one of Earth's mightiest heroes. He was busy saving lives and doing dangerous shit, and I was - what? Some random girl who just happened to be there at one point in his life. If it wasn't me, it would have been someone else who had ended up as his fuck-buddy.
The realisation was heart-wrenching. He could easily take off and leave, never answer the phone or my messages, because I was never anything important to him. He could write me out of his life, because I was just a page in his novel. To be forgotten about.
I heard about Sam's death half a year after Bucky had left.
It was plastered across the newspaper headlines. Sam had been killed on a mission in Siberia, a mission headed by himself and Bucky. The moment I heard the breaking news on the radio, my heart stopped, the grief threatening to crush me.
There was a public memorial in Washington, D.C., near the National Mall. I attended alone, travelling there alongside hundreds of thousands of other people, strangers, all wishing to pay their respects to the Falcon.
I didn't expect to see him there. I was so confident that he would be mourning him privately, away from the public eye, away from all the people.
I thought I was hallucinating when I saw the dark figure leaning against the passenger side of my door, cap on his head, leather gloves tight around his hands. I didn't even need to meet his eyes to know it was him.
There were no words exchanged. He got into my car silently as I did the same, barely daring to breathe lest he suddenly dissipate into the air like an illusion, as I was convinced he couldn't be real.
It wasn't until we got back to my hotel that he snapped. The door closed and he was there, crumpling into my arms, his own wrapped around me tightly, his face buried into my shoulder.
His tears wet my skin, ragged breathing loud and in agony.
"I'm so sorry," he moaned in a pained voice, his arms squeezing me so hard that I could barely breathe. "I am so sorry."
"Bucky," I whispered, feeling his warmth against me as I finally dared to accept that he was really here. He was really, truly here. "I got you. It's okay."
"No," he gasped, his tears soaking my shirt. I had never seen him cry before, and the vulnerability broke my heart. "I can't lose you too. I can't lose you."
His knees buckled, dragging me onto the floor with him as he cried, his arms never once letting go of me. My hands lifted to stroke his hair as his chest heaved with painful sobs.
This was the sound of a broken man. The sound of someone who had lost Steve, and now Sam, and the floodgates had finally broke.
He lifted his head to look at me, eyes bloodshot and his hands raised to cradle my face. I felt so overwhelmed by all the emotions in my heart - grief, confusion, love, relief, sadness. Everything all at once, crushing my ability to think straight. Everything felt surreal, happening at a pace that I couldn't keep up with.
"I don't deserve you," he whispered. "I wanted to keep you safe, wanted to keep you - keep you alive, want you to have a normal life, and I ruined everything. I ruined everything." The words streamed out nonsensically to me. "I had to leave, had to go before things got too bad, but I was so stupid. Being so fucking stupid. I can't lose you too. I can't lose you."
"James, breathe," I said gently, staring back at him and trying not to reveal just how worried and perplexed I was.
"You knew, right? You had to know how I felt about you, deep down," Bucky asked, pleading. I didn't answer as he continued to sob - I simply held him, letting him cry against me.
Nightfall came, and Bucky had quietened. You were both lying on the bed, fully clothed, his hand clutching yours tightly. The feeling felt unfamiliar and right at the same time.
"I have always loved you," Bucky said quietly, his eyes staring up at the ceiling.
My breath hitched. He's lying, the voice of doubt said, loudly and clearly in your mind.
"I fell in love with you. How could not?" He continued, his voice pained. "But it terrified me. The feeling of being in love, of having something to lose. The knowledge that I am what I am - someone with a history, with blood on my hands, knowing I've done unspeakable things that I am so afraid for you to find out about."
I turned my head to look at him, not quite daring to believe what he was saying.
"You have no idea." He looked at me finally, his eyes still wet and tortured. "I wanted to let you know how much I loved you. I wanted to be happy with you. But I couldn't."
"Bucky..."
"But I'm tired of running away," he said quietly, shaking his head. "Leaving you was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I don't think I can survive without you." He laughed suddenly, humorlessly. "Is that selfish?"
"No," I replied instantly. My stomach swirled, and I knew he could see the doubt in my eyes with just one look.
"You don't believe me, do you?"
I remained silent for a long minute before I finally answered. "I just don't understand how you could love me."
I flinched at the rage that flashed across his face. Not quite anger at me, I realised, but fury at himself.
"I made you think that I didn't love you back," he said tersely, fists balling up. "And I will never forgive myself for that. I was playing hero but actually I was just being stubborn. Being so unbelievably stupid."
He rolled over to position himself on top of me suddenly, eyes fixed on mine. He propped himself up above me with his hands on either side of my head, eyes pleading.
"When I met you, I had no idea I could feel this way for anyone. The way you smiled at me, the way you understood me, the way you made me laugh and the way you cared. When you fell in love with me, I could feel it. I felt so special to be the one you chose.
I told myself that I couldn't let you in. I couldn't let it get too far. I couldn't tell you about myself, about my childhood, about the terrible things I've done, about the good things I've done, about the hopes and dreams I had for the future. I told myself that if I let you in, it would be too real. You would be someone that I could lose, and if i lost you, it would kill me."
"So you would rather just leave me?" I whispered, my eyes welling up at the memory of the long six months I'd endured without him.
"I thought I was keeping you safe," he replied, eyes closing briefly as he gritted his teeth.
"You broke my heart," I said simply. The statement wasn't made to hurt him, but rather just a declaration of the truth.
"I don't know what to do," Bucky said, shaking his head as his eyes revealed the conflict in his mind. "I don't want to be apart from you anymore. But I don't want to risk putting you in danger. As long as you're with me, you will always be in danger. I don't know what to do," he repeated, looking so anguished that I wanted to cry all over again.
"Please just stay," I pleaded. "Please stay with me."
Bucky kissed you finally, his chapped lips against yours, melting into you as soon as they met. He sighed shakily, as if he was finally home after a long day.
"I'll stay. I'll protect you with everything I have. I promise."
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