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puck-luck · 3 days

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not-so quickie | jack hughes

warnings: morning sex, unprotected p in v, thigh riding, dirty talk, jack as a boob guy for SURE, pet names, domesticity, jack x y/n being precious partners fo'eva pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader summary: the one when reader and jack's morning antics leave jack rushing to get to training. wc: 1967

Whenever you wake up in the same bed as Jack, which was more often than not nowadays, his dick is poking the small of your back or it’s nestled right against the curve of your ass. Either Jack is pulling you into him in his sleep or you’re pressing back into him in your sleep, but the way you get into this position doesn’t actually matter because it always ends in the same outcome: you, awake, because Jack has his morning wood. This morning, the tight grip Jack’s hands has on your hip explains the events of the night perfectly.

Despite the closeness between your bodies, you manage to turn to face Jack without waking him up. You trace the line of his nose, the freckles on his cheeks, and thumb over his bottom lip.

Still asleep, Jack sighs at your light touch and pulls you as close as he can, slipping his thigh between your legs. You smile, feeling like a beam of light could erupt from your chest with how fond you are for this boy. His eyelashes flutter and the corner of his lip twitches. You can tell he’s fighting to stay asleep and you don’t blame him– the bed is comfortable, warm, and he doesn’t have to be at his off-season training for almost an hour and a half.

“Jacky,” you whisper, watching as his nose scrunches when he loses the battle.

“No,” he groans, voice thick with sleep. He feels blindly for the hem of your big shirt, the only thing you wore to bed last night, and pulls it up until he can pull it over his head. He kisses the space between your boobs before he relaxes and tries to fall back asleep.

You giggle when his breath washes over your chest, partially because it tickles and partially because you know that if Jack could climb into your skin, he would.

“Good morning, sweet boy,” you say, scraping your fingernails down Jack’s back in soothing movements.

“G’morning,” comes Jack’s muffled reply. “You woke me up.”

When you pull your shirt collar away from your chest to peek down at him, Jack’s got that trademark Hughes pout written across his face. His eyes reflect betrayal, but you know he’s not really mad.

“You woke me up,” you parrot back at him.

Jack lets out a “hmph!” of displeasure at that. “Clearly, one of us is lying. That’s not possible.”

“Your little friend poked me awake.” You poke Jack to emphasize your point.

He laughs and his movements shake you. He adjusts you in his arms so you can feel the press of his, still hard, “little friend” against your hip. “This guy?” He asks.

You hum, nodding. “That’s the one.”

“Poked you awake?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Well, that’s not very nice of him, is it?”

“Not at all.”

“What should we do about that?”

“I don’t think he should get to have any fun for the next week.”

Jack retreats from under your shirt at that and hovers above you. “A week?” He repeats, disbelief dripping from his words. “No, pretty girl, that’s cruel and unusual punishment. That’s against the Constitution.”

You laugh and press a hand to his chest. “Since when are you such a patriot?”

“I know my rights.” Jack leans down to kiss the side of your neck, then blows a raspberry in the same spot.

You shriek and twist away from him, but Jack’s hands keep you firmly underneath him. His thigh keeps you pinned in place and offers some solid pressure to your core. His dick is still pressed against your hip and even though you’re both laughing as you try to evade his wandering lips and fingertips, you can practically feel him throbbing with the contact.

“Jack!” You squeal when he digs his fingers into your sides. You reach down and grab his wrists, trying to stop him from making any more moves, but he easily reverses your grip so he’s holding your wrists instead. He presses them down into the pillow above your head and your breath catches. His eyes are on yours and time suspends, the air thick between you two.

You’re breathing heavily and Jack’s got that barely-there smile on his face. He bites his lip, then licks it.

You’re not even registering how your hips grind down on his thigh until he looks down to where you’re touching. You look too and gasp, remembering that you are completely bare on his thigh when you see the patch of wetness glistening on his skin.

When you look back up, Jack is staring at you with something akin to determination in his hooded eyes.

“Not so upset about being woken up now, huh?” He teases, tensing his thigh and leaning into you.

“Shut up,” you breathe out, tilting your hips up to meet him.

Jack watches you without saying a word for a few minutes, a small smile present on his lips.

Your eyes are closed, your head is tilted back, your hair is loose and falling in a halo around your head. It’s tangled and tousled from your sleep. You’ve got a fading crease from the fabric of your pillow across your cheek. Your shirt has ridden up to reveal your stomach and Jack reaches out to place a hand on it. He spreads his fingers wide and licks his lips at how his hand looks covering you. You’re so beautiful, he thinks, I want to do this with you forever.

“Jack,” you moan, finally opening your eyes and looking into his. You continue to roll your hips against his thigh, so dense and strong and so there beneath you.

“Yeah, honey?” He replies, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “What do you need?”

“Want you inside me.” Your jaw drops when Jack thrusts his leg against your core, and stays there.

Jack looks over at the clock on your bedside table and thinks. He’s got a little over an hour before training, but he’ll have to shower and that could take five or thirty minutes depending on if you join him. He needs to cook and eat, which might take twenty minutes. The drive is fifteen minutes if he speeds (he does every time). He looks back at you and melts at the way you’re staring up at him, begging him for more with just your eyes.

“Fuck, can you be quick?” He asks.

“So close already, Jacky, just want you inside.”

Jack rolls onto his back and shoves his boxers down to his knees, pulling you on top of him. “Ride me. Make yourself feel good.”

You line him up with your entrance and sink down, feeling the breath seep out of you as he fills you up. You move your hips in slow circles, feeling him drag along your walls and press every delicious spot inside of you. You lean forward and stabilize yourself by putting both your hands on Jack’s abdomen. You can feel his abs tense as you start to move up and down on his cock.

He’s staring up at you like you’re a dream. He’s got a hand on your hip and a hand on your thigh, rubbing up and down on your smooth skin with his thumb. The only noises between you are the noises of pleasure that fall from your lips and the strangled breaths that fall from Jack’s. You take him how you want him, deep and consistent rather than fast and hard, and Jack wonders if, maybe, this is how life was meant to be lived all along?

When you pull your shirt over your head, Jack’s hand shoots up to knead your breast. He stares, mouth slightly parted, at the way they move when you continue to bounce on top of him and how they fill his palm, the weight of them causing him to smirk with pride. He’s a boob man at heart, always has been, and these tits are his, you’re his. He starts to thrust up into you once he’s got his hands on your tits, loving the way they feel under his fingers so much that he loses track of the fact that you were supposed to be keeping the pace you wanted.

Not that you mind.

You let him fuck up into you, the tip of his dick hitting your deepest point and making you a mess. “Jack,” you whine.

“Yeah, baby, that’s right,” Jack grunts out, one hand dropping to your side to pull you down into him in time with his thrusts up. “Say my name, tell me who’s making you feel good.”

You’re both sweating, a light sheen of sweat glistening on your bodies as the sun peeks through the curtains. If you looked behind you, you’d see the mess that you left on Jack’s thigh earlier. The messy hair that you love so much is starting to stick to his forehead, clumping up in strands that fall across the skin in the most beautiful way. They’re like that because of you, because of how good he’s making you feel, the effort he puts in, and it’s that knowledge that brings you one step closer to your orgasm.

“You look so,” you say, losing the words when Jack tilts his hips to meet that one spot inside of you. “Oh, fuck, Jack.”

“Gorgeous,” Jack tells you, finishing the sentence that you had started and abandoned. “Everything I ever wanted, my pretty girl, my baby. Wanna see you come, love, wanna see you make a mess all over my cock. C’mon, baby, come for me.”

He continues to urge you as your moans grow in pitch. He continues to slam into you and it’s the tortured whimper he lets out when you clench down on him that sets off your orgasm. You almost collapse on top of him as you move your hips frantically with his stuttering ones. Your hands press on his chest, your breasts dangling right there, right in front of him, and Jack comes.

“Fuck, baby,” he whines, looping an arm around your waist and fucking up into you wildly as he comes. He bites down and sucks on the skin of one of your tits as he comes down, pulling away to reveal a patch of his saliva that will certainly turn red, then purple, then blue over the next few hours.

You both breathe heavily after the high of your orgasms, with you gently rising off of Jack and removing him from the warmth of your pussy.

“Good morning,” Jack says again when you cuddle into his side, your head resting on his arm and your fingertips dancing over his stomach.

“Good morning,” you reply with a smile when his dick twitches at your movements.

Jack throws a glance over the top of your head towards the clock.

“Mm,” Jack groans as he pushes himself up. He kisses you, long and soft, before he gets up to go to the bathroom. “That didn’t go as quick as I needed it to. Now I have to rush.”

“You’re complaining?” You tease.

“Never. Never complaining about getting to spend time with my pretty girl.”

You beam as you hear the shower turn on. You slip on one of Jack’s dirty shirts that he left on the bedroom floor the night before and get out of bed yourself, still feeling the remains of the morning’s adventures on your thighs. Maybe, if you’re lucky, you can cut down on Jack’s time to get ready by making his breakfast for him, and he’ll reward you by bending you over the counter. He can never deny you another round when he sees himself dripping out of you so beautifully. That one, if you can swing it, will actually have to be quick.

notes: hi good morning readers yes here i am back again on a monday morning with more smut (i fear... i be thinking about this topic too much). and yet i am running out of things to write about because i do not want to write about the same three actions (a little fingering, a little oral, a little fucking) in every post because i fear that will get old for y'all. MORAL OF THE STORY: SEND REQUESTS! SEND ASKS! SEND COMMENTS ABOUT YOUR FAVORITE PLAYERS AND PEOPLE YOU WANT ME TO WRITE ABOUT! i need help <3 (yes, @johncena2020 i will eventually get to your Mr. Marino. i will.)

#puck-luck's fics #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes smut #jack hughes x y/n #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #andy writes anything🍄

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nervoussagittarius · 3 days

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furniture shopping + night out

matt sturniolo x influencer!reader

summary: your day in the life vlog ft. your boyfriend matt, request

warnings: fluff, maybe language

“good morning vlog” you said taking a sip of your coffee. the sun was just starting to come through your apartment windows as people filled the streets below. “i have a very exciting day planned today so i thought i’d intro the video now and we can chat for a minute.”

you began to get all of the ingredients out to make breakfast for you and matt while you talked to the vlog about your night. your videos tended to feel like a facetime call between you and your fans. everyone loved how personal and friendly they felt. “matt spent the night here yesterday, and i figured i’d be a good girlfriend and make us breakfast. i convinced matt to go to ikea with me this morning because i’ve been in this apartment for about a month now, and i still have no living room furniture. so we’re going to try to fix that.”

as you continued making breakfast matt finally woke up and decided to join you in the kitchen. “okay guys, be honest do these pancakes look good? i hope so. but i’m going to go wake matt up-” matt appeared from around the corner at this statement. “oh nevermind. hi baby! good morning.” matt, not being fully awake yet, gave you a small groan and fell into your arms for a hug. you returned it, holding him for what felt like hours. neither of you complained though. you and matt could be surgically attached and it still wouldn’t be close enough for the two of you.

you turned your head to the side looking at your counter. “me and my friends talked about last night and what we have planned for this morning while i made us breakfast.” “your friends?” matt questioned since he was the only one in your house. “yeah my friends in the vlog” you said with a ‘duh’ tone, earning yourself a poke in the side from matt.

you picked up your camera again about an hour later while you were in the car. focusing the lens on matt, you began to ask him questions. “how do you feel now that i might actually have a couch after a month?” you asked with a laugh. matt’s smile brightened as he took his eyes off the road for a second to look between you and your camera. “i’m happy that we’ll finally have some place to sit other then your kitchen table. i’m excited to go shopping if you’re excited.” he reached over to pat your knee.

“matt’s not the biggest fan of shopping if you couldn’t tell. or if you’ve seen his house you’d know how unfurnished it is.” you said setting the camera on the dash to look at both of you. “listen, i just don’t see the point in worrying about how my house looks when i can be doing fun stuff with my life.” matt said with a chuckle. he grabbed your hand so you knew he was fully just joking to mess with you. “i think furniture shopping is fun. we’ll see you guys again hopefully when i have a couch.”

you were back in the car when you found yourself filming again. you head rested on matt’s ands your intertwined arms as you sat in the parking lot. “bad news guys. we couldn’t find a couch.” you removed yourself from matt as he started backing out of the parking spot. his hand now rested on the back of your neck as he played with your hair. “so sad. i still have to sit on the floor.” matt remarked. you gave him a discouraged laugh catching his attention. he looked over at you while at the red light. “don’t worry sweetheart we’ll figure it out.” he leaned over quickly to kiss you cheek. “thanks matt. we’ll see you guys later.” you said giving your vlog a small smile.

a few hours had past as you and matt spent some quality time together at your apartment. it wasn’t often that you guys got alone time so you cherished it when you did. no meetings, no sibling, and no cameras. but that came to an end when you realized you had a vlog to finish.

matt was the one to pick up your camera this time. you were in your bathroom getting ready for the prada event you were going to tonight. matt thought this would be the perfect time to try and scare you. he quietly walked through your house, making his way to you. unfortunately for him you caught him in this act. his reflection showed up in the corner of your mirror. “what are you doing?” “no i’ve been caught. i was trying to scare you.” he said with a laugh. “next time, baby” he set your camera on your bathroom counter and came around to hug you from behind. “you look really pretty, sweetheart. do you want to tell them where we’re going?” he asked as he gently layed his chin in your shoulder. he didn’t want to mess up what you were doing.

matt’s comment had made you blush, but you’ll quickly pulled yourself back together. “thanks baby. um- matt did a photoshoot with prada recently, and he looked incredible. so they invited us to an event they’re throwing tonight.” “if we make it there.” matt threw out winking at the camera. you looked at him in the mirror quickly as you threw your arm back to jokingly hit him in the shoulder. “matthew!” you exclaimed. “what? im just saying their might be traffic.” he shrugged acting nonchalantly as you rolled your eyes.

“anyway guys i think we’re going to call it a night. i’ll let you know tomorrow how the event went. i love you and i’ll see you soon.” you smiled picking up the camera as matt starts to walk out of the bathroom. “wait, matt! do you have any last words for our friends?” he turned to you with a slight smirk. he quickly screamed in the camera before running off. “i’m so sorry head phone users.” and you ended the video

an: i’m sorry this is so short but i wanted to make this different from chris’s so i hope you enjoy. i also slightly based this off of the vibe of jules leblancs blogs because i love them 🤍

#nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt x reader #matt sturniolo

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mrsmandalorian · 2 days

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Nonsense

-- pedro x singer!f!reader

a/n: howdy everyone! was inspired by Sabrina Carpenter's Coachella performance to write this. let me know if you guys want a second story to Espresso lol. much love to everyone!! -maddie

Summary: A surprise visitor at your first-ever Coachella performance!

main masterlist

Word Count: 4.5k

Song: Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter!!!!!!

Warnings: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied, smut!!!, and fluff!, drinking, drug use (edibles and smoking), switch sex, p in v, fingering, sexual teasing, pet names (mi amor, princesa, daddy, baby, baby girl, puppy, angel)

Coachella was one of the most famous music festivals a musician could play at. It was such an honor to be on the setlist. It is incredible to perform a night each weekend in a row. This might be the most significant break in your career. Something felt missing.

The crowd started to get excited as the set time grew nearer. The nerves shot through you as you took deep breaths. You were trying to get over the feelings going through your mind.

“Are you alright?” one of the backup dancers asks as they help you with the earpiece. As you look yourself over in the mirror, you see the beautiful outfit that was personalized to fit you wonderfully, with your hair done beautifully.

You were ready.

“Yes, I am ready!” You smiled at your team as you took hold of your microphone. The band starts playing one of your most famous songs. The lights went dark as the band played the first cords of the song. The crowd roared in anticipation. You slowly stepped out into the darkness and started the melody.

The lights pour onto the stage, and the crowd goes wild. They get the first glance at you with your sexy and luxurious outfit. You smirk to yourself at the attention as you scan through the crowd. All the exciting and loyal fans in the crowd as they sing every verse with you. You follow the dance choreography you have practiced and performed many times. Once the music was going, it was hard not to get stuck into it and forget about the hundreds of people in front of you. The crowd was going wild as they sang along to your new song.

You continued the song as you had images of the reason for it, smirking to yourself. Pedro makes you feel like you're on cloud nine, from how he treats you publicly to the bedroom activities. A few songs highlighted the bedroom activities. You had never written such “edgy, sexy” songs before you met him. The secret love affair had made all of you so happy. He still made you content and secured in your relationship even miles and hours away from him.

As you go through the song and move around more, you look into the VIP areas and see many familiar faces. You don’t pay much attention as you have to end the song. You were so busy entertaining your fans that you did not notice who had slipped into the VIP section alongside both of your mutual friends. You were so focused on the choreography and in your element. The show was a big deal and a performance with dances and graphics for all the songs on the giant screens. You were singing your last song of the night, which was Nonsense. It was one of your favorite songs to perform, as it gave the audience the mood for the evening. The song represented something personal to you: your secret relationship with your new lover, Pedro Pascal, the whole internet’s boyfriend. It was interesting to see social media go crazy over who the song might be for. Some had the correct answers, but it was still a new and private relationship.

The lights fall as the melody starts. “I think that you guys will enjoy this next song! I have seen all the tiktoks, by the way.” You joke into the darkness and receive a wild response from the crowd. You take a few breaths and get into position in a very sexy pose, along with the dancers, waving at the sweet fans who can see you.

“No (La-la, la-la) da-ah-ah, ah (Ah-ah, uh, uh, uh, yeah)”

As the song begins, the spotlight shines only on you. You scan over the crowd with a smirk. It was one of the sexy, edgy songs you wrote because of your lover. There are butterflies in your stomach from nerves to play something as personal as this song, especially for such a big and reactive crowd.

“Think I only want one number on my phone I might change your contact to "Don't leave me alone." You said you like my eyes, and you like to make them roll Treat me like a queen; now you got me feelin' thrown, oh.”

The stage lights illuminate the whole stage as you walk around and sway your hips to the music. During the lyrics, you stop and try to sing with your fans as you make your way to the side of your VIP area to see those familiar faces.

“But I can't help myself When you get close to me Baby, my tongue goes numb Sounds like blah, blah, blee”

As you sing towards the area, your eyes linger over your friend group of non-famous friends to Sarah Paulson, which causes you to smile at them. You continue to scan the section until they land on HIM. The person that this song was written about. He was being his goofy and adorable self as he sang along with you. This causes you to mess up with a blush but quickly recover as the next verse comes.

“I don't want no one else (don't want) Baby, I'm in too deep Here's a lil' song I wrote (a song I wrote) It's about you and me (me)”

The eye contact that he held with you as you sang your filthy thoughts of him directly to him with a huge smirk. You continued to perform as you moved your hips a little more to the choreography because of him. In the following verses, you look away as you sing to your fans.

“I'll be honest Lookin' at you got me thinkin' nonsense Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in And when you got your arms around me Ooh, it feels so good. I had to jump the octave I think I got an ex but I forgot him And I can't find my chill, I must have lost it I don't even know I'm talkin' nonsense I'm talkin', I'm talkin' (ah)”

You twirl your hair and sway your hips back to his side of the stage as your dancers follow close behind you. Make eye contact with him to ensure he is focused on you now.

“I'm talkin' all around clock I'm talkin' hope nobody knocks I'm talkin' opposite of soft I'm talkin' wild, wild thoughts You gotta keep up with me I got some young energy I caught the L-O-V-E How do you do this to me?”

You follow the choreography correctly as you hold flirty eye contact with him. Once you go over the chorus again and start to finish the song, you stand in your final position in the middle of the stage. You send him a wink and blow a kiss, then turn your attention to your fans.

“You guys have been absolutely the best! I hope you all enjoyed it and hope to see you again next weekend! I love you, and please stay safe!” You say after you show appreciation to your band and dancers. You wave and bow as the crowd goes wild and chant your name as the lights go down.

As you run backstage with your crew, laughing and smiling, you give all of them well-deserved love and appreciation. Your manager is there with water and a hug.” You did amazing! They loved you!” they say as you drink your water and wipe the sweat. Now celebrate! Not too hard!”

You follow their instructions as you see your friends run up as you exit the backstage towards your tent. They all sang praises and love and hugged you. After a while, you finally met the handsome brown eyes again, but closer this time. You jog up to him in your tight-fitting outfit with a big smile as the two collide in a hug, throwing your arms around his neck. He was wearing a button-up shirt with the first set of buttons undone, dark jeans, and his oversized glasses and baseball cap.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You say with a smile as you look up to him. He smirked as he got ready to say something witty back to you. You interrupt it with a short but passionate kiss on his lips. “I’m happy you’re here! How long have you been here?” Your hands land on his exposed chest, which makes him pull you closer.

He chuckles at you as he sees the adrenaline still pumping through you as you chatter to him. “I just decided to come to see my favorite person perform at Coachella. My schedule can wait two days. I’ve been here the whole time. You were great, beautiful.” He keeps his voice so no one else can hear your conversation. You feel his hands slide down your hips a little bit. “Also, where did you get this little number, and why haven’t I ever seen it?” Letting his thick fingers run over the design against your lower sides.

The compliments give you a confidence boost on top of your adrenaline rush. You bite your lip as his hands wander slightly until they settle on your lower back. “I planned on changing before we celebrate, but if you like it, I can keep it on.” You whisper into his ear, then look back at his expression.

His eyes darkened from your comment, causing him to pull you a little closer. “I like that idea,” He whispers in your ear as his lips graze your neck with a few pecks. Before you both could continue, your friends gathered you into other event areas. The group stayed together as they went to different stages to watch other artists, including Doja Cat and Lana Del Rey.

Pedro and you both socialized and drank with all your friends as you celebrated your incredible performance. There were edibles taken sometime in all the fun. He would occasionally hold onto you as you both danced closely. You both let loose, and as you can see, everyone was far from wasted. You were letting your bodies get as close as possible, hips grinding onto his. His hands would run down your sides and tease you. Stealing kisses from each other, and the sexual tension was through the roof.

The feeling of being watched makes you look around every once in a while. The camera flashes and excited screams from people around you made you realize that your relationship might not be that much of a secret now. Pedro and you interacted with lovely, chill fans who casually recognized you. You had some groups that would call over to Pedro as “daddy” as he played it off like a champ.

“Vamos, mi amor,” Pedro whispers in your ear as he grips his gentle hands around your waist. You meet his erotic brown eyes that make your cheeks burn hard as you squeeze your thighs together. Pedro was very facially expressive because you could read his thoughts whenever you looked into him. His thoughts were highly naughty, and it was time to go home. “I wondered how you felt about calling it for a night and heading back to your room for a nice bath.”

You look around at everyone in the crew and see your friends slowing their nights down, which doesn’t make you worried about causing another upset. Meeting the brown eyes again, you give him an arguing grin as you throw back your head with a laugh.

“I thought you might like that idea, Hermosa. Let’s tell them all good night and get going,” he whispers again in your ear as he gently pulls you towards your group of friends. Both of you take the time to say goodbye to your friends and thank them for supporting you. Pedro’s loud laugh pulls you away from your friends as you meet his warm eyes. He hugs everyone and draws you into his hip with an arm around your waist. “Goodnight, everyone. Safe travels!”

There were plenty of farewells, naughty things, and cat calls as you leaned against Pedro, who turned around with a silly face and middle finger gesture. He helps guide you to the Uber you take to your hotel room for the night. As you lay your head in his lap, the car ride was full of stolen kisses and laughter.

“You were an absolute star tonight, mi amor,” Pedro says as he traces his fingers along the straps of his outfit, letting his fingers run down to his cleavage. That last song was very cheeky. I wonder who that could be about.”

“Thank you. It was about one of my lovers. You might know him,” You joke with him, trying not to moan. His wandering fingers turn into wandering palms as they slowly paw at your breast.

“Oh, you are playing hard to get whenever I already have you smitten,” he mumbles, only where you could hear him. The car comes to a stop as you arrive at your hotel. You quickly get out of the vehicle as Pedro follows closely behind you. You couldn’t keep your hands off one another as you walked through the empty hotel halls. Acting as strangers whenever you encounter a person, you giggle with each other once you come back together.

Once you find your room, Pedro checks to see if the hallway is clear. He uses a little force with his grip as he leans you against your shut door. Letting his hands explore before they landed on your bottom, kneading your ass. One of his hands comes up to cup your jaw as he lines his lips up with yours, passionately kissing yours. His body closes into yours as you let him control the situation as you follow his lead. After grinding bodies and long, passionate kisses, you pull away, trying to catch your breath as you stare up at him with your cheeks burning. “We should get inside,” you say as you turn around the door, fumbling with the door. Pedro stepped back a little and watched as you struggled a bit.

“Why are you so frizzled, mi amor?” He whispers against your neck and presses the front of his body to your back. Feeling his stiff member against your backside along with his hot breath, almost making you moan out at contact. “Let me help you.” He helps you inside as you giggle and follow him.

Pedro and you have been messing around for a while now. You have not discussed a relationship status or anything, but neither of you hooked up with others. He treats you like a significant other the way he respects your boundaries and doesn’t hide his affection towards you.

“Let’s go put that beautiful bathtub you sent me a picture of yesterday to good use,” he teases you as he takes off his baseball cap, which makes his hair go all over the place. He starts unbuttoning more of his shirt as his chest becomes bare. You can’t resist running your hands down his chest as he looks at you with a smirk.

He spanks your ass hard with a groan because of your hands on him. “Let’s go, sweetheart,” he says as he pats your ass to get you to start moving. Once in the bathroom, turn on the large white tub to create a perfect mix of hot and cold. He grips your hips as he runs his hands to the back of your outfit. “Whoever designed this little piece is a fucking genius. It is beautiful and flatters you greatly.”

“Well, thank you, Pedro. I might have had you in mind when I got it designed. I was going to send you some pictures tonight whenever I came back here,” you smirked and winked at him in the mirror as he helped you undo the outfit. He kissed down your body as the fabric went off, making chills run across your body. The time apart doesn’t affect you emotionally, but how your body reacts tells the absolute truth. The way your heart rate skyrockets as his lips make their way to your mound.

You leaned against the counter for support as your outfit fell onto the floor, leaving you only in underwear. You make eye contact with Pedro as he continues to kiss and lick down your lower half. He hooks his large fingers under the top band of your panties as he meets your eyes for approval. You give him a slight nod and grin as his feather-like kisses follow the material as he pulls them down your legs. Throwing your head back as you try not to make a noise as he runs his tongue just above your clit. You make a frustrated groan as his tongue suddenly leaves your skin, leaving goosebumps.

Pedro chuckles softly as he sees how your body reacts to him, pulling away with a smirk on his lips. He stands up as he pushes his body against yours, pulling your hips into his. “You are such a good girl for me. Your body is always ready for me,” he whispers as he ducks his head to kiss your neck. “Let’s go in, mi amor.” He gets in first so you can sit in between his thick thighs. He helps you as you slide in between his legs, back against his chest. His rigid member pressed against your lower back, his hands tease your nipples after you get settled. He couldn’t help but let his hands wander as he settled comfortably behind you. He rubs out your sore body but lets his hands focus on your most sensitive spots.

His gentle but firm hands run on either side of your hips as his kisses lay on your shoulders. He inhaled deeply against your skin, causing you to tense up your back as it chills down your spine. He moves his hands from your hips towards your mound. You used one hand to spread your left leg apart, holding it still with just one large hand. His right hand found its way down to tease your slit, playing with your sweet lips. You felt the member on your back begin to throb as he slightly rubbed himself against you. You let out your needy moans and sounds continuous as he worked his fingers against you.

He kept teasing you and kissing your shoulder and neck with his scruffy face. You had enough of his teasing and rigid member. It was rare that you switched roles, but you were both switches. (You can’t tell me that Pedro is not a switch.) You slide out of his grip as you meet his eyes once you are turned around to face him.

You grasp onto his rigid member, holding yourself up on the sides of the tub. He squirms and lets out a moan as you hold yourself over him. “I’m tired of the teasing, Pascal. It’s my turn,” you say as you ease your entrance slowly onto his throbbing tip. You find a comfortable position for your legs as you keep going up and down on his tip. He lets out a loud ‘fuck’ and moans as he squeezes his eyes close. His hands move to your hips, letting you take control. You start to ride him as you push your breast into his face.

One of his hands moved from your hips to grip your tit, “who gave you permission to touch me?” You whisper almost into his ear as he looks up at you with big brown eyes.

“Sorry, miss,” he whimpers back as your speed of volatile movements onto his cock increases. He leans back and rests his arms on the back of the tub as he lets you ride the hell out of him. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes as he groans out in pleasure. “Fuck, mi amor.”

“You like this, don’t you?” You firmly ask him as you force his face into the middle of your tits. He starts to motorboat your breast as you suffocate him gently. The scruff from his face makes you more sensitive than you thought, riding his member harder. “You start fucking me hard, baby. Thrust your big cock into me.”

He meets your eyes with pleasing brown eyes to satisfy your needs. His pleas make you smirk as you nod. Pedro begins to slam his hips into you, moaning as he does. “Thank you, thank you for letting me fuck you.” He pants as he thrusts deep inside of you, feeling his throbbing member hitting every spot.

He grips your body, and his thrust begins to become more rapid as you continue to ride his giant member. Every thrust has the purpose of pleasing you; his hand works its way back up to your breast. He plays aggressively with your nipple, pinching and sucking on it. His other hand gripped onto your ass as his rhythm stayed deep and hard. The overstimulation of his hands and the member inside of you causes you to scream out in pleasure, “Good puppy.” You whimper as you feel your orgasm coming sooner as he leans up and thrusts into you. Pedro chose the pet name on one of the first nights you had taken control of the action.

Eventually, with his rapid thrust and wandering hands, your body starts to shake as you are overcome with pleasure. “Keep going, puppy,” you whimper as he continues to work out your orgasm. “Such a good puppy.” You whisper as you run your hands over his chest. Your body falls into his as you overcome your orgasm, gripping onto his as he continues to pleasure you. He pulls out and fingers your wet pussy, licking his fingers after you finish.

You both lay in the tub for a while as you overcome your orgasm. He held you as you came down from your high, kissing your head. “Was that good for you, mi amor?” He asks gently as he pulls you into his chest. He moved the hair from your face, rubbing his hands down your waist.

You gently nod against him as the day catches up with you. After a few minutes, you get tired of the cramped space of the tub. “Let’s get out, baby,” you mumble to him as you lean up, earning a grunt in return. The guilt of not pleasuring Pedro silently overcame you as you exited the bathtub.

The sound of a low grunt makes you return to the tub as the broad man emerges. You smile mischievously at him as he glances up to meet your grin. His member is still very much erect as he steps in front of you. The fun part of being switch partners was that it could change in a flash. You give Pedro a knowing look as he meets your eyes and stands before you. His eyes and grin light up on his face as he gently guides you onto the counter behind you. “My turn, princesa,” he mumbles and spreads your legs apart as he pushes himself in between them. He pulls your body towards the edge of the counter so your legs wrap around him.

You lean your back against the counter as he holds your lower half, rubbing his throbbing cock against your slick entrance. He leans over your body, sucking on one of your nipples to get a reaction out of you, which it did as you let out a loud moan. Your body reacted as well as it pushed farther onto his member. You both let out a pleasurable sound as his tongue runs down your chest to your stomach. Your hips start to tease him as they grind against him, which causes him to spank the side of your ass. “No, ma’am, it’s daddy’s turn,” he smirks up at you as he moves one of his hands to your nipple. His fingers quickly fondle your right nipple as you moan loudly. “You let daddy fuck your sweet, sweet pussy?”

You let out a satisfied groan as his hand moved down your entrance, gently rubbing you as his thumb ran over your sensitive clit. After gently teasing your pussy with his fingers, he lubed himself up with his fingers from your wetness. His large member enters you again as he holds onto your hips. He pushes inside slowly as you both let out moans.

“You’re so fucking wet, angel. Did ya miss daddy?” He asks as he grips your hips harder, thrusting inside of you. You give a desperate nod as your hands grip onto the edge of the counter. Pedro takes his time as he edges himself in and out of you, giving you all the praises. He pulls up your upper body so your bodies grind against one another, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other holding your back. “Good girl.”

The friction from the position on your mound makes it hard not to moan and squirm in pleasure. His thrust becomes more rigid and repetitive as his grip holds you gently but firmly. You could feel your orgasm approaching as well from the position. “I’m about to cum, Daddy,” you whimpered as you gripped his firm broad shoulders.

His mouth meets your ear as he groans into your ear. His heavy breathing makes your back arch and push into his thrust more. “Wait for me, baby girl,” he mumbles into your ear as his thrust becomes more sloppy. “Come for me, angel.” He sets you down on the counter as his hands grip your breast, twiddling your nipples with his thick fingers.

Before long, both of you came together with your bodies grinding against one another, along with satisfied noises.

Pedro’s warm brown eyes meet yours before he kisses you. The two of you might not have a title, but the sparks were there every touch. “Such a good girl, angel,” he says as he gently pulls out of you. “Let’s take a quick shower.” He helps you into the shower, where the two of you help wash one another and joke around with stolen kisses in between. After getting ready, Pedro carries you into bed as the two of you order dessert from room service. The rest of the night was full of laughter and heavy makeout. The two of you cuddle up to some cheesy movie and fall asleep midway through it.

These were the perfect nights for you to write a whole album about your feelings for this cheeky, handsome man.

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller x you #din dijarin fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut

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wandasfifthwife · 3 days

Text

make you mine ✩‧₊˚

— hockey!wanda x afab!reader

after finding out that your girlfriend has been fucking you with the strap she’s used on her one night stands the past, you make her buy a new one. when she comes home with the new strap you can’t help but to claim it—and her—as yours

tw: SMUT MDNI, established relationship, top!wanda, bottom!reader, Wanda’s strap is referred to as her dick/cock, strap (r receiving), strength/muscles kink, r’s needy, bondage (w), jealous!reader, wanda used to be a player, packing (w), R sounds a bit possessive, overstim if you squint, NOT PROOFREAD

a/n: here’s that strap fic 🤭

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚1.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

Jealousy’s a funny thing. It’s been settled within you since Wanda came forth with her past, confessing that she used to take girl after girl between her sheets. It was only last night that you met one of them, a curse of living in a smaller town.

A stranger had wondered up while you two were at dinner, asking how Wanda’s been doing. You had stared while Wanda was doing her best to shoo her off, trying not to be too rude. It’s weird to think that this stranger was under Wanda at some point, maybe Wanda even liked her too.

You never found out with how fast Wanda would shut the conversation down, stating it’s apart of the past and knowing what happened would only hurt you. You know she was right, but curiosity eats away at you. How many girls did she bring to bed, and did she ask any of them back, or were any of them good in bed? She kept silent.

The only thing she answered was about whether or not the strap she uses to fuck you was the same one she used with them. You found out that it was, and your reaction was expected. The question came at an inconvenient time, but what you two were doing triggered the thought. You had mumbled it against her lips, hips grinding down onto her thigh. She looked almost nervous when you froze, pulling away from her.

“Until you get a new once, you’re not allowed to touch me,” you said, climbing off her bed. Her reaction was imminent, already setting off the next day to buy one, sending you a text you when she had. Your arms were wrapped around her neck when she came back, pulling her body on yours until you two fell back into the wall.

“Mm, love wait—“

You couldn’t. Your lips had moved back on hers, arms locked around her in hopes to keep her there. She couldn’t either, finding herself engaging in the kiss until you were breathless. Keeping you in that state was the only way she was able to get her words across.

She asked you to jump, hands moving to hold under your legs when you do, wrapping your legs around her waist. She throws you down into the bed, smiling at the gasp leaving you. Your hands grab at hers when you notice how they’ve begun to undo her pants, holding them together.

“I want to,” you ask.

“Want to what?”

“Ride.”

With her help she finds herself on her back, gaze lovingly taking in the sight of you on her. Her legs were propped up, giving you someplace to lean back on. You were a sight to see, hips grinding down onto her clothed length, shivering when it rubbed against your clit.

“It’s big,” you whisper, whining right after you press it into your entrance as far as it’ll go. Wanda leans a bit to mouth at your neck, knowing where to kiss to get a reaction out of you.

“Take these off,” she says into your neck, fingers slipping under your pants to slide them off. You help, lifting your legs to help her slide them off. They come right back to rest on your waist, hovering over your underwear but you hold them still, “no.”

She raises an eyebrow, “no?

You reach into her desk drawer, holding back a smile at the amusement on her face when you pull out a line of rope.

“How long has that been in there?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t found it.”

“So, a long time?”

You shush her, fingers sliding up her arms, guiding them together above her head. Once her shirts been removed, settled somewhere in her room, you’ve begun to tie it like you’ve been practicing. The material is thin, but a bit scratchy against her skin.

“Why’d you choose a light material? I can just break through these.”

She finds your eyes, growing needy herself seeing how her question has your eyes turning glossy, “yeah, that’s the point.”

She’s left bare under you, watching you slide her length between your folds, effectively wetting it. It was fun to watch how her arms jerked, itching to hold you like she usually does. She does good, arms kept above her despite everything in her wanting to break the rope.

“You got this for me?”

“All for you, just you.”

Her words set off a switch in you. Wanda’s hands have found themselves reaching behind her, fingers holding tight against the headboard as she watching you press each inch of her into you. It’s bigger than her other one, pushing your walls out wider than what you’ve grown used to, but it’s perfect.

The wetness grows between your thighs helping to ease the tension and allow you to guide her size through into you easier. You take it all greedily, clenching tight around her once you’ve settled down completely.

“Has a girl done this with you before,” you mutter, breathing heavier at the sight of how Wanda looks under you.

“No, no I’ve never—no.”

She almost moans at the whimper you let out as you move your hips with her still inside to spell out your name—both of your minds feeling floaty after your ministrations.

“Then this dick’s all mine.”

Wanda whines, head tilting back and hitting the headboard, a plea spilling from her lips as you begin to set a slow pace. The room is silent except for your gasps and the sounds of her strap thrusting into your wet cunt with the rhythm you’ve set.

You’ve got a hand sprawled on her stomach, using that and the other you have on her knee to move your body on top of hers. The position at which you’re slamming your hips down adds friction onto Wanda’s, building pleasure in her own body every time you snap your hips down.

“Fuck,” you cry, “you-oh!”

She’s never seen you like this, pushing your hips back on hers with more speed each time, whining nonsense in her ear except for one word—mine.

“‘m close,” you say, tone whiney and airy, “I’m close—ah! So close.”

The second she sees your back check arch and mouth drop open in a silent cry, she’s snapping the band to flip you on your back.

She’s pushing into you faster than the pace you had started, enjoying every sound that escapes with each thrust.

“Ah! Ah!—please, don’t stop,” you grip her back, wincing a bit when she circles your clit.

“Say it again.”

“This cock is mine—mn!”

She hums, “and?”

“You’re mine.”

She angles her hips, smiling when she finds your spot immediately. You curse, coming again around her strap, drenching it and the sheets below you.

“That was hot,” Wanda says from on top, body laid on yours. You welcome it, hugging her close and enjoying the added weight.

“Can we take a bath tonight? I don’t feel like standing.”

“Don’t feel like it, or you can’t?”

You ignore it, “so bath?”

“Sure, only if you answer my question.”

“No.”

She laughs at how frustrated your face looks, the pout drawing no sympathy from her as she lifts you off the bed with no difficulty. The bath water is run warm, you can feel it relax your muscles as you lower yourself into the water. Her skin’s smooth, and nice to lean back against, cheek falling onto her shoulder.

“You haven’t answered it still.”

“Because you already know the answer.”

“Do I?”

You have your eyes shut but if you could you’d roll your eyes at her, “okay, I can’t. Ask one more question and you won’t be able to touch me for a week.”

“I probably can’t anyways because I don’t want to make your limp any worse.”

“Hate you.”

“Hm, but I love you,” she says, pressing a kiss to your forehead, smile growing when you turn your face to kiss her properly.

“Love you too,” you say, feeling special knowing no one before you was ever able to do so.

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚1.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

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ktaerssoi · 2 days

Text

wrestling for attention

summary:

paige bueckers x fem!reader

(509)

not proof read please don't hate me!!

"you couldn't beat me in an arm wrestle."

that's what your girlfriend had said twenty minutes ago when you had made a comment about being stronger than you looked. now, you and her were sitting at the kitchen table doing what seemed to be the thirtieth arm wrestle of the past half an hour.

you smiled as you pushed to make paige's hand hit the table again, not even straining yourself to do so. "P, i think we know who is better, can i please go make dinner now?" you had invited kk and nika over for dinner at your guys' apartment that night and you were supposed to get cooking by 5:45 and it was now nearing 6.

"no y/n. i don't know how your cheating, but there is no way your beating me fairly." you roll your eyes as you get up, now standing behind your girlfriend as you rub her shoulders up and down. "face it, you just need to work out your arms more." she groans as you turn and walk into the kitchen, not accepting defeat. "i will win one!"

"sure you will babe."

you were cleaning dishes an hour or two later when you were cornered by paige, nika, and kk in your kitchen. "how can i help you ladies today?" you dried the rest of the cups, putting them on the rack to dry.

"paige tells us you're an arm wrestle god. we find that hard to believe." nika crosses her arms and kk narrows her eyes at you as you laugh at their competitiveness. "if you guys think you can take me.." you put your hands up in defense as you round the counter to lean on the table.

nika had sat down after attempting to beat your four times, eventually admitting that you really were a force to be reckoned with. kk on the other hand not only made you go against her eight times, but made you switch hands for two of them.

"freak of nature over here." you felt paige's arms snake around your waist as you leaned over the table for the last round against kk. her head was on your shoulder and you rubbed her forearm that was resting on your hip.

"not my fault a bunch of college athletes can't beat some random at an arm wrestle. seriously, should i call Geno and let him know?" kk laughs at your comment and her and nika leave shortly thereafter.

lying in bed later that night with paige's head resting comfortably on your chest, she whispers up to you. "i might actually have to start working my arms more because damn babe, they're sore from wrestling." you let out a giggle at the possible double meaning of the sentence and nodded.

"you're still the arm wrestle champ, i'll tell anyone who askes that today was a fluke." you smile as you kiss her forehead goodnight, thinking about all the other inside jokes the two of you would have by the time you grew old together.

um anyway, the girl i like told my bsf that she likes me so yk, your girl got game or wtvr. i was actually losing my mind but shhhhh..anyway thats all, not proofread, also please give me more CC requests!! - kate

#wcbb #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #kate martin #paige #wlw #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball

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inkdrinkerworld · 2 days

Note

I have a james request !! The morning after an argument with him and you expect it to be kind of awkward but he just comes up behind you and gives you the tightest hug ever :(

there's a balminess to the air that you associate with summer, the hot months where there's not enough beach days and there's a very obvious shortage of ice cream to brace the heat.

except it isn't summer, there is no need for beach days and the heat isn't from the sun, but it remains in small tendrils of the argument you and james had the night before tickling at your feet.

you don't know how to bridge the gap to him and it feels like he's a million miles away and not just in the kitchen.

you want to say, 'i'm sorry for starting an argument over things you can't control. and i didn't mean that you care more about work than you do about me, i was upset and lonely and i felt like we weren't on the same page.'

it's suffocating to not be on the same page with james. you almost always are- except last night. your chest tightens at the thought of james still being upset.

tears prick hot and heavy behind your eyes as you hazard a glance at him from your spot at the footwell of the stairs. you wish he would turn around so you could get a glimpse of his face; just to see how much upset is still there.

just to see if today is the day where james is finally annoyed with you and decides that he's had enough. that he decides he wants to be free of your nagging and your needing him and everything else.

james saves you from any further spiralling when he greets you with a dimpled smile. it fades just as quick as it spread, concern threaded through his eyebrows at the sight of you digging your toe into the hardwood and rolling your bottom lip between your fingers.

"hey, what's wrong, angel?" his arms are open to you immediately, and you hesitate to rush into them. james opens and closes his hands to you and you acquiesce.

"i'm sorry for last night," you say into his chest and james sighs.

"we already apologised to each other angel. we had a misunderstanding and we were being too stubborn to listen to each other,"

"me more than you." you cut him off to say. james tsks.

"arguments happen, m'heart. we work through them and now that we know what's wrong, we can be better yeah?"

you nod. "you weren't thinking that i was being a bitch?"

james laughs, full body chuckling as he buries his face into your hair. "no, lovey. i'm sorry i haven't been at home as much, but this week i'm going to work on it. okay?" james' hands are cupping your neck, thumbs drawing circles just under your chin.

"i'll try to not hold everything to myself. and tell you when it's bothering me." james nods, fully satisfied.

"do you want to come have breakfast with me? i cut up all your favourite fruits and there's even your favourite for breakfast." god how could you ever think this man could ever despise you.

"yeah, but i'm making your favourite for lunch, jamie." he grins, dimple back out in full force, his shoulders slack and his heart full to bursting of love for you.

"whatever you want, lovey."

#jamespotter #james potter #james potter fanfiction #james potter one shot #james potter imagine #james potter drabble #james potter blurb #james potter fanfic #james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter x black reader #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x yn #james potter x y/n #james potter angst #james potter headcanon

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kpopnstarwars · 21 hours

Text

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: ty taylor swift i attempted to base this fic on your song but then i divulged as normal

tw: 18+, smut, p in v, inkpie, oral (both recieving), sub feyd by which i mean feyd is DOMMED, spit, degradation + praise, one spank kinda, swearing, lil bit of crying, mention of evil baron activities so sa + pedophilia, tiny mention of cheating but none actually happens, lmk if there's anything else bc lbr there probably is i just forgot it

wc: 3.9k

Feyd-Rautha has gravely underestimated you.

It is true that you are not strong in terms of Harkonnen definitions, but you expected a man destined to father the Kwisatz Haderach to be able to see past that. What was that the Bene Gesserit were saying about superior genetics? You don’t see even a glimpse of that in his frosty gaze when he regards you - he looks at you as if you’re a delicate vase that may shatter in the lightest of breezes. He thinks he needs to fear breaking you.

He misses how you miss nothing.

You are not Bene Gesserit; you are merely one of their pawns, a genetic machination produced from centuries of manipulations and deceptions, but you can read a man better than the majority of their number.

The seething jealousy in the clenching off Glossu Rabban’s fists is like a monster sinking its venom laced fangs into his heart: starkly evident to you - as evident as the barely repressed, parasitic fear of inadequacy that lurks like a second beast within the first. Just the same, the gazes the Baron sends your husband do not escape you. Nor does the caged, wild look that washes over him whenever you leave his uncle’s chambers: the look of a man who inside is still a boy, relief washing over him that he has left unscathed and untouched for another time.

Even more nuanced than that, you see the vulnerability within Feyd-Rautha. He craves to be loved, the way he should have been as a child, when instead he was desired; all this at an age where the most he should have been doing was playing with carved wooden toys at his parent’s feet.

He believes no one can see the last, soft sliver of his heart that he’s fought to preserve, that wants nothing but to have someone to be vulnerable with, just because he’s buried it so deep inside of him that sometimes even he doesn’t think it’s there any more.

But you see it.

You see beneath it too, to a place that he himself is not fully aware of. A place where he hates who he has become - a wild, savage creature, bleeding from wounds that do not seem to close up, slipping in its own blood when no one can see.

It’s from here, from this place, that the urge to preserve you somehow originates. He thinks you are a flower whose petals will easily be crushed in his heavy, calloused hands, and he is wrong; in a strange way it endears you to him, that he believes that he is too rough to hold you. You do not think it is quite love - not yet, at least, it is only the third month of your marriage - but when you see him fighting to not be the beast that he is before you in an effort to spare you, something that is not just pity stirs in your heart.

You can hear him now, pacing, cursing under his breath in the antechambers. Sometimes he sleeps there, on the narrow sofa, and you’ve come to realise it is those nights when he wants you most. Aside from your wedding night, he has made no other attempts to produce an heir, and you find his restraint valiant, but stupid.

He could try as hard as he liked; he would not get anywhere close to breaking you.

Rising from your seat on the small, ornate stool at the vanity, you push open the door to the antechamber and take a step into the room. Feyd pauses his pacing with his back to you, and you can see the tension in his shoulders and the rigid way he holds his body before he turns around to face you. His pupils are dilated, his eyes dark, and you watch him regard you with something too untethered to be restraint.

‘Am I keeping you awake, wife?’

You shake your head. ‘I had not retired yet.’

You know he expects you to explain why you’ve interrupted him, but you remain quiet - your silence is as much of a tool as your words. He doesn’t speak either, but his eyes tell you enough; they do not leave your frame, hungry, torrid, and his fingers twitch as if they ache to slip you out of the simple shift you wear to sleep and touch you everywhere, to explore the curves and dips of your body.

Tilting your head, you smirk. ‘If you wish to give me your heirs, husband, I would advise another method that differs from staring one into me.’

‘You don’t know what I want,’ he growls, but his face tells other tales.

Stepping forward, you reach out to him but he backs away. Still, the sheer thirst in his eyes sears away at you, even as his actions fight against it, his fingers closing on the doorknob. His hands are steady, his shoulders too, but the tightness in his muscles betrays him as always. Usually, you’d let him go now, but tonight you wish to see how far he will let you push him before he pushes back, so you snare his forearm in your fingers, tugging at him as he turns the knob.

He doesn’t look at you. ‘Don’t test me.’

You smile, cloyingly so. ‘Why not?’

Lightly, you trace your fingers down his chest, straightening the fabric of his black shirt while you gaze thoughtfully up at him through your lashes, lips curving upwards at the indecision in his eyes. He fights it, wrestles with the burning need, but in the end, he prevails, transforming it into a streak of anger that colours his voice as he tears himself from your grasp, recoiling as if your touch ignites pain within him - and maybe it is pain, that he wants you so but fears to indulge himself.

‘Get away from me.’

Feyd-Rautha does not give you a second to do so, because he is the one haring down the dimly lit corridor, his jaw tight, nails digging into his palms. Truthfully, you have never seen him move that fast, not even in the arena, and it almost makes you laugh - the great na-Baron fleeing from his wife and his own lecherous thoughts.

Maybe you did not win this round of tug of war, but he has asked something of you - to get away from him. Over the next few weeks, you follow this to the letter, avoiding him like the plague; you do not interrupt his pacing in the antechambers, nor do you haunt the bedroom like you normally do, asking him questions that he cannot answer. Feyd-Rautha is sensitive to change and you know he will seek the reason for it.

There is a barely cloaked intensity in his eyes when he finally corners you, and under it, you detect recognition: he sees that you are not who he thought you were, and he sees that you are not so different from him - always observing, always planning, and so, mind shatteringly hungry.

You were just dropping by the bed chambers to gather some of your clothes. The night before, you’d relocated yourself to one of the guest bedrooms - you could sense Feyd’s resolve cracking, and you knew that this would break it for certain: coming into his chambers to find them empty, wifeless, your side of the bed damningly cold. Jealousy is clear in his eyes as he backs you against the vanity, filling you with a rising sense of triumph.

‘What has caused this change in your behaviour, wife?’

You raise a brow, faking confusion. ‘What change? I would argue it is your behaviour that has changed, Feyd, you who can barely stand to be in a room alone with me.’

He snarls. ‘Who were you with last night?’

‘I thought you wanted me to get away from you,’ you reply, keeping up your pretence a little longer. ‘I slept in the guest quarters. You do not reciprocate any of my advances.’

‘Advances?’ He echoes, incredulous. ‘You taunt me, wife. It’s like you want me to break you.’

Cocking your head, you regard him coolly for a moment, letting some of the sharpness of your unmasked gaze leak through, letting him see the calculation in your eyes - you see the wariness it incites in him as he realises again that you are not who he thinks you are. Wordless, you lean in close to him, bringing your face to his, hovering there.

And then you let your arm drop and make a swipe for the knife at his belt.

Fast as a viper, he catches your wrist in your fingers, but you smile, challenge in your eyes as you bring his second blade to his neck. You’d slipped it out while he was distracted with your other hand, and he blinks at the cold press of it to his skin.

‘That’s the problem, isn’t it?’ You murmur. ‘You’re not scared of me, you’re scared of breaking me. Who’s afraid of little old me, huh? No one is, Feyd.’

‘They should be,’ he whispers, and when you meet his gaze, it sets you alight.

‘Indeed,’ you reply softly, letting your lower lip brush his.

As he kisses you, his hands seizing your face and locking you to him, you hook his knife’s blade in the collar of his shirt and drag it down, slicing the fabric until it flutters to the floor. Pulling away, you take him in - the moonlight planes of his sculpted chest, the broadness of his shoulders, his roiling, keen gaze. This man whets your appetite in the darkest kinds of ways: you cannot wait to ruin him.

Absently, you trace the outline of the tent in his pants with the tip of the knife blade. A breathy noise leaves him, and he freezes as if he can feel the cold kiss of the metal against his skin; you laugh, delighted that he is so mouldable in your hands.

‘Get on your knees,’ you command, seating yourself on the end of the bed.

It’s captivating, his lack of hesitation as he follows your orders. He sits back on his heels, looking up at you, and you can tell that he’s letting you see him like this, you can tell that if he didn’t want you to have him like this, you wouldn’t, but still, you reach out, gently skimming his shoulder with your fingertips.

‘All you have to do is say, and I will stop,’ you say.

He dips his chin. ‘I do not think I’ll have to.’

You smirk, something savage and powerful and thrillingly depraved rearing its head inside you, awakened by the sight of the na-Baron kneeling at your feet. That will be his last coherent sentence tonight.

Pausing, making him wait, you lean down a little, inspecting his features, the ardour in his eyes. He looks at you as if you hold the universe in your hands, as if you hung the stars in his sky, as if you are a goddess, and he wants nothing but to worship you until he is expended.

You spit on him.

It lands on his cheek, and his eyes widen a fraction. A shudder wracks his body, and he simply stares up at you, breathing heavy, before slowly, his lips part, and he sticks out his tongue, his request evident. You grab his jaw, squeezing so that he opens up wider, and spit in his mouth - the low groan that leaves him as he swallows is fucking delectable.

His cock twitches in his pants when you pick up the knife. Tracing the blade over the shell of his ear, over his cheekbone and over his lips, you marvel at the way he holds still, awaiting what you’ll inflict on him next like a good little toy.

When the metal reaches his jaw, you nick the skin, drinking up his sharp intake of breath and the clench of his fists as the blood trickles down the column of his throat; you catch the droplet of crimson on your tongue, licking a careful stripe up his neck, grinning when you catch his lips in a kiss and he trembles at the taste of his own blood. Feyd is greedy, his tongue brushing against yours as he leans up into your touch, the way his mouth works against yours hot, fervent, pleading.

Planting a palm to his sternum, you push him back, chuckling when he strains to follow you, eyes glazed, lips swollen. You spot a streak of red and swipe your thumb over his lower lip, wiping it off before standing.

‘Get up, strip, and get on the bed,’ you bid him, pulling your own shift over your head.

Feyd scrambles to follow your orders, yanking his pants down, and you take your time to admire his muscle sheathed body; strength ripples beneath his skin, a sweet dichotomy to his weeping cock, rock hard and flushed rosy. He halts his movements, as if he’s pinned down by your appraising gaze.

‘For whom do you wait, husband?’

As he turns to get onto the bed, he’s a little too slow and you swat at his ass. A choked sound leaves him, and you laugh at the way his knees almost buckle. Feyd’s ears run red when he lies down on the mattress, and you straddle his thighs, sneering at the way he twists his fingers in the sheets, squirming beneath you.

‘Pathetic.’

You don’t give him time to respond, instead wrapping your fingers around his cock and pumping up and down fast, and he gasps at your rough touch, his back arching and his hands coming up to touch you - you wave them off you, meeting his eyes.

‘No touching,’ you intone, the hint of warning in your voice enough to render him obedient.

This time, you take his cock head in your mouth. He’s so fucking sensitive, reacting as if the sweep of your thumb down the underside of him and the slide of your tongue over him is mind shattering; it doesn’t take you long to get him teetering at the edge of his orgasm, just for you to pull away at the last moment.

His thigh jolts, weak pleas of your name leaving his lips, gripping the sheets so hard you wonder if they’ll rip. Again, you take him in your mouth, deeper, one hand dipping to play with his balls; you revel in the wretched sound that he makes when you hollow your cheeks around him, your teeth grazing up his length. You toy with him until you think he’s moments from breaking, until he’s writhing upon the sheets, face contorted in pleasure loaded with sweet, sweet agony.

‘Please let me come,’ he whimpers, voice cracking, the look in his eyes crazed, pitiful. ‘Please.’

You decide to give it to him, jerking him brutally fast until he comes; it hits him like a tidal wave - his eyes roll back in his skull, his body tensing, rigid and impossibly taut before he goes boneless, a broken cry of your name on his lips as he spills all over his stomach. A single, ecstatic tear slides down his cheek as his orgasm seizes him, snatching him up and shaking him like a ragdoll.

Lingering at his side, you wait until he’s come down from his high before getting up to retrieve a damp cloth from the bathroom, perching on the bed beside him and cleaning up his come, pressing kisses to the surprisingly soft skin of his hips. One wavering hand comes to rest in your hair, and you glance up at him, biting back a smug grin at the dazed look in his eyes.

‘Feeling okay?’

He nods.

‘Words,’ you chide.

‘Y - yes, na-Baroness. Better than okay.’

You raise a brow at that. You did not specify for him to call you anything, so this is all his doing; he fidgets beneath your gaze, and you note that he’s growing hard again, his cock stiffening between his thighs.

‘Can I…’ He begins, but trails off, thinking better of it.

‘No, little na-Baron,’ you reply coyly. ‘Tell me what you desire.’

His eyes scorch you with their yearning. ‘I want to taste you, na-Baroness.’

You smile. ‘As you wish.’

You lean back against the pillows, letting your legs fall open for him. It’s somewhat comical, the way his eyes widen as he sees your slick cunt, and he swallows harshly - you can almost sense his mouth watering. Carefully, reverently, almost, he nudges your knees over his wide shoulders, bringing his face close to your pussy, admiring you. It’s as if he’s testing himself, waiting to see how long it takes for him to break and taste you.

Lurching forward, Feyd groans, low and deep and right against your clit when he laps at your heat, quickly becoming insatiable as his tongue moves masterfully at the apex of your legs, laving over your clit and curving in and out of you. Bolts of pleasure spear through your body, fierce like crackling lightning at the eye of a storm - he is everything to you in this moment. He shatters you, breaking you and mending you anew.

As he brings you closer, your body begins to shake and your legs close around his head; you suffocate him with your thighs, and you can tell he lives for it from the way he fervently grips your ass in his large hands, kneading the flesh and moaning into your pussy.

Something pulls tight within you, deliciously so, and you cry his name in warning, fingers curling around the base of his neck to hold him still as your hips buck, rutting into his face. Dimly, you can see him grinding into the mattress as you fuck yourself on his tongue - the chafe of his nose against your clit makes you shatter, and you fall apart for him with a ragged cry, nails digging into his shoulders.

You’re still coming down from it when Feyd begins to lap at you again, dutifully cleaning you up, and you twitch with the slight overstimulation, hooking a finger under his chin to see his eyes: his gaze is loaded with the heat of a thousand suns, and yet somehow it is also bleary, drunk. A laugh escapes you, and you tug at his hand, encouraging him to lie beside you.

‘Good boy,’ you hum as he nuzzles into your touch. You can feel him achingly hard against your thigh, and you let yourself catch your breath before reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock. ‘Want to fuck me now, hm?’

He nods avidly. ‘Yes, na-Baroness.’

All it takes is for you to half spread your legs before he’s climbing eagerly between them, hesitating before looking up at you for permission. You dip your chin, smirking, and then he’s sinking into you, burying himself inside you.

Voice cracking, Feyd chokes out your name, and he shudders, gasping at the velvet vice of your cunt as it clenches, bearing down on him. Sharply, you rock your hips up to meet his, and this time, a soft, keening whine leaves him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, biting down hard on his lower lip.

He can barely keep himself from spilling inside you.

‘You can barely hold it, can’t you, my little na-Baron?’

His words come out jumbled, his speech scrambled, mind ground to a standstill by the all consuming heat of your cunt; he babbles out protests, saying that he can, desperate to prove he can, stammering that he wants to make you feel good.

Cruelly, you buck your hips up against his again, and a pained sound looses from his chest, but he thrusts to meet you, hips lurching forward, his arms almost buckling either side of your head. Panting, he pulls out slowly before slamming back in, unable to stifle the whimper that tears from the back of his throat when you rake your nails down his shoulder blades, claiming him, littering his shoulders and neck with bites.

‘That’s it,’ you sigh as he finds his pace. ‘Just like that, good boy.’

A strangled noise tears itself from him at your praise, and he fucks into you, frantic, almost feral. Eventually, his thrusts begin to turn sloppy, and you kiss him in order to steal his breath and taste his fervid moans of your name on your tongue as he comes deep inside you.

Pressing a palm to his lower back, you pin him there, buried snugly within your pussy as you reach down with your other hand and rub your clit hard - it takes but a moment for you to come, and he writhes at the cataclysmic feel of your walls fluttering around him, overstimulating him, his mouth falling open in a silent cry as he comes again with your cunt milking his cock.

Completely spent, Feyd goes limp, and you rub your hand over his back, smoothing circles on his skin with your lips to his forehead. The post orgasm clarity begins to hit him, and you feel him go rigid - slowly, he pulls out, his seed leaking out now that he’s not filling you, and he attempts to get up, but his legs are too weak and he collapses beside you instead, his chest heaving, his eyes still a little hazy, still fucked out, even as he fights for lucidity.

There’s something on his face that cuts at your heart - a look of expectancy, as if he’s waiting for you to get up and leave now that you’ve had your fill of him. Concerned, you reach out, and he leans away from your touch.

‘Feyd,’ you murmur. ‘It was not too much, was it?’

‘N - no,’ he replies. ‘I just…’

Sitting up slowly, you look him right in the eyes. He stares back, bewildered, but you press a finger to his lips, foregoing your own fumbling words to instead recite the pledge of allegiance of a Harkonnen soldier to their general; his eyes widen - you know you have hit home. You’d exchanged wedding vows, of course, but these have a different meaning: you see it in the respectful way it is uttered, a soldier acknowledging his superior’s presence.

You pledge to him not only your heart, but your sword - your service - too.

‘Wife,’ Feyd bites out. ‘Surely you do not mean - ’

‘I mean it,’ you cut in. ‘Every word.’

Again, you reach for him, and this time he does not flinch away, letting you tuck him close to you, his breath coming out shaky. Gently, you tip up his chin, planting a chaste kiss on his parted lips, and he returns it slowly, wondrously, no teeth or tongue, just the gentle brush of his mouth against yours: the innocence of it is bittersweet - has anyone ever kissed him this tenderly?

Carefully, you withdraw, wanting to see him, but he does not let you meet his eyes, instead hiding his face in your neck, his lips at the hollow of your throat. You grant him the privacy of not being seen when you feel wetness on your skin, his hot tears tracking down and pooling in your collarbone - his hands ball at his sides, and you pry open his fingers and lace yours with his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Tightly, you wrap your arms around him, holding him with a hand cupping the back of his head, cradling him to your chest.

Your voice is quiet in the still air, but it carries as if through an arena, a promise arcing through the air like a soaring arrow.

‘You no longer walk this world alone, Feyd-Rautha.’

best believe when i started writing this i did not anticipate the 2x 'good boy's 🧍

dune taglist: @callumsgirl @oh-you-mean-me @insufferablyunbearable

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lowkeyerror · 3 days

Text

The Family Business Ch. 10

WandaNat x Reader

Word count: 3.4k

Ch.Notes: no notes this ch

Summary: Natasha and Wanda have a talk about their feelings for you. After that emotional conversation they meet you at the hospital to visit Dragos.

An: If I were to say things get more real next chapter how would you feel...

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

The rest of the work day drags for Natasha and Wanda. Both women having other things on their mind. However, with Kate and Y/n out of the office on a hectic day like this, they couldn’t afford to dwell too much.

“Sestra, can we call it a day? I've never taken this many calls in my life,” Pietro barges into his sisters office.

“If you want to go home, then go,” she waves her hand dismissively at him.

“What’s got you so snappy?”

When Wanda’s eyes meet Pietro she’s glaring at him, “If you haven’t noticed I’m trying to run the company our father built on my own.”

Pietro raises his brow, “On your own? Discrediting my work is normal for you, but to act as if Y/n wasn’t running this place last night is bullshit.”

“Well she’s not here now,” Wanda mumbles under her breath.

“Why? Where is she?”

Wanda can’t hide the small clench in her jaw, “Kate took her home. She wasn’t feeling well.”

“She’s in good hands sestra if that’s what's worrying you,” Pietro tries to console her.

Wanda doesn’t want to speak about it any further, “I’m going to see papa whenever I’m done with this do you want to come?”

The way that Pietro's goofy features turn serious never cease to amaze Wanda, “I can’t tonight, I have a date.”

Wanda rolls her eye, “You’d rather get laid than see our father?”

Pietro shakes his head, “No, but this isn’t just some girl. I want this to be serious and I can’t afford to stand her up.”

The red head is slightly surprised, but she nods along, “I’ll tell him about it, I bet he’d be glad to hear you taking something seriously for once.”

He chuckles a bit before going quiet. He looks at Wanda similar to the way a needy child looks at their parent.

“Do you think he’ll wake up?”

“He has too,” the words are heavy as they leave her lips. She has a small smile placed on her face as she continues, “Mama will kill him if he doesn't.”

“Don’t work too hard sestra,” he speaks sincerely taking his leave.

“Enjoy your date,” Wanda says as he walks out of the door.

When he leaves she lets out a heavy sigh. For the first time today she lays her head down on her desk, exhaustion starting to plague her.

Thoughts of her responsibilities as the person in charge rain down on her. This was the end goal that she wanted, but never at this great of cost. She wished her father would wake up and reclaim his place because she didn’t feel ready.

She was focusing as hard as she could, but her mind always strays to her brother’s best friend. Your delicate skin pressing against hers in the morning or the strong arms that wrapped around her waist, or those doe eyes that she could sense staring at her.

Wanda debates for a moment before pulling out her cell phone and dialing the girl. It rings for a while before there's finally an answer.

“Hello.”

“Hey, little krolik. I just wanted to check on you. Nat told me you went home today,” Wanda keeps her tone level.

You sigh on the other end of the line, “I’m ok. I think I just got a little overwhelmed. I’m sorry for stepping out, I know that's not how we do business.”

“It’s no different than me leaving yesterday. This line of work takes a toll on you.”

She can’t see it, but you nod, “I’m feeling better now. I still want to go see pa- Dragos. Maybe I could have Kate drop me off and I’ll meet you two there?”

“You’re with Kate?” Wanda can’t stop herself from asking the question.

“Yeah she took me home and decided to keep me company,” you say nonchalantly.

“I could’ve taken you,” Wanda tries to play it cool.

You disagree with her, “I didn't want to bother you while you were working. It was a hectic day, truth be told I didn't even want to leave.”

Wanda’s tone is strong as she speaks, “I will never be too busy for you Y/n.”

“Wanda-”

“I mean it. I know I’m supposed to move past it, but I missed a lot while I was gone. I couldn’t be there for you like I wanted to. Now that I’m back I’d like to be there for you as much as I can. I still want to be the one you lean on,” Wanda let herself be vulnerable with you.

You were taken aback by her admission. It felt like it was impossible for you to come up with a response. It wasn’t like she was saying something you hadn't heard from her before, but her words felt heavier somehow.

“I know you'll be there for me, Wanda . You don't have to prove it.”

Wanda frowns lightly, “I’m not trying to prove anything. I’m just- it’s hard knowing I’m not the first person you come to when you’re in need. I know you've grown out of needing people for the most part, but I don’t know. I’m not making any sense. Nat and I will meet you at the hospital.”

Wanda doesn't give you a chance to respond as she hangs up the phone. She scolds herself about how needy she sounded during the call.

“I think I’m finished up for today, whenever you’re ready to go,” Natasha strolls into the office.

Wanda stares at the computer screen for a moment, “I should be ready in half an hour.”

Natasha plops down on the couch of her wife’s office. It’s silent for a moment until Nat shifts on the couch which makes noise fill the office.

“So, do you want to talk about it?”

“ About what?” Wanda keeps her attention on the screen.

“What I said about being jealous of Kate?”

Wanda’s brow furrows, “Not particularly.”

Natasha strides over to the woman’s desk chair and places herself in Wanda’s lap. Wanda’s arms loop around the woman’s waist holding her in place.

“We need to talk about this moya lyubov,” the spy places gentle kisses on the base of Wanda’s neck.

The other woman whines, “Why?”

“Because we’re married and you’re in love with Y/n,” Natasha states plainly.

Wanda rolls her eyes, “You were jealous too.”

Natasha nods, “I was and I don’t have a problem admitting it.”

Wanda’s face buries itself in the crook of Natasha’s neck, “So what does this all mean?”

“I like her too,” Natasha states bluntly.

“ I don’t want to lose you,” Wanda’s voice is small as she speaks to her wife.

Natasha softly places her hand on Wanda’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet, “You will never lose me Wanda. I married you because I’m completely, utterly, madly in love with you. That feeling hasn’t gone anywhere.”

“I love you too,” Wanda’s eyes shine as they bore into Natasha’s.

“ I think we should think about what it would be like to add Y/n into our relationship dynamic,” Natasha speaks, but it sounds like a question.

Wanda tenses briefly, “I can admit that I have feelings for Y/n, but I don’t know if I can act on these feelings Nat.”

“Why not?”

Wanda closes her eyes, “I’ve known her too long, Nat. She’s the same age as my little brother, not to mention she's his best friend. If she doesn’t feel the same way, this will ruin everything.”

“Detka-”

“I don’t know if it’s better or worst that we both want her. How would we even tell her Natasha? I don’t want to lose anymore time with her,” Wanda begins to get emotional.

Natasha cups her wife’s face in both of her hands, “Baby, I know you’re scared. This is scary, I’ve never been in a situation like this, I don’t have all the answers. All I know is that you love her and I think I could too. We’ve spent so much of our lives sacrificing for others, but I’m ready to sacrifice something for my own sake, aren’t you?”

“I am, but not at the expense of my relationship Y/n. I just got her back, Natasha. I’m not saying I never want to tell her, but I can’t do this now,” Wanda tries to turn her head away from her wife.

Natasha doesn’t let her, but instead places a soft kiss on her wife’s lips. Wanda relaxes under Natasha’s touch, feeling all of the stress of the day seeping out of her body.

“ Don’t hide from me, Wanda. I want you to share your feelings, I won’t ever judge you,” Natasha whispers against the taller woman’s lips.

“I don’t want to disappoint you. I know you’re ready but-”

Natasha shakes her head, “It’s not just about me, it’s about us. I don’t want to push you to do anything you aren’t ready for. If you want to pursue Y/n, I’m with you, but if you don’t, I'm still with you.”

Wanda nods softly, “I want to, but I- I need time.”

Natasha kisses her again, “Whenever you’re ready baby. Now finish up so we can go.”

“You’re not going to move?” Wanda questions her wife.

Natasha lets out an exasperated sigh, “ You can’t work around me?”

Wanda scoots herself into the desk. She slightly pushes Natasha to press into her further. The spy’s head is in the nape of Wanda’s neck.

“I can and if I’m being honest it’s my preferred method of doing work,” Wanda begins to focus on the computer again.

She works diligently with her wife in her lap. Having Natasha there makes her work go by a little faster and feel a lot less stressful. She finishes up within the hour.

Once she’s done Wanda shoots a text to Y/n saying that they were headed to the hospital. The girl replies saying she’ll meet them there.

Natasha drives, one hand on the wheel and the other holds Wanda’s hand. Her thumb caresses the back of the passengers hand trying to provide comfort, knowing that this was not an easy task for her.

Wanda had only visited her father once. She hated seeing him in such a fragile state. It almost didn't feel like he was her father. He couldn’t be the same man that took her to the city fair, the same mam that placed flowers in her hair, the man that invested his entire life in her dreams, it couldn’t be. This wasn’t the man that kept her safe from her nightmares, because looking at him in this state was beginning to feel like one.

When they arrived they went inside the building.

“If you don’t tell me what room he is in you won't live to the end of the week to regret it,” you argue with the receptionist.

Kate’s behind you her hand resting on your shoulder trying to pull you out of the conflict.

“It’s family only mam, one more outburst and I will have security throw you out,” the receptionist said causing a vein to pop in your neck.

“Is there a problem here?” Natasha speaks up first.

“Nothing that concerns you,” the receptionist snaps at the spy.

You interrupt, “You don't talk to her like that.”

Before things escalate any further Wanda slams her hand on the receptionist’s desk with her card under her palm.

“Now tell me what room my father is in, “ Wanda’s eyes look fiery as she stared at the receptionist.

The receptionist looks at the card bestie her eyes go wide, “Terribly sorry for the mix up Mrs. Maximoff, didn’t know she was in your company.”

Wanda peers down at the receptionist, “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. I don't ever want to hear you address either of these ladies in a disrespectful manner again.”

“Yes, Mrs. Maximoff sorry about that. It won’t happen again. He’s in room 286,” the receptionist looked ten sizes smaller.

You can’t help but give the woman a death glare as you head towards the elevator. Kate stops you on the way.

“I’m going to head home are you going to be alright?” Her eyes subtly glance in Wanda and Natasha’s direction.

“I’ll be fine Katie,” you reassure her.

“Ok just checking. Text me later and make sure you're taking care of yourself,” Kate pulls you into a tight hug.

The sound of someone clearing their throat ends your hug with the doe eyed girl. Kate smiles at you upon the release of the hug, she then waves goodbye, leaving you with the married couple.

“And you’re sure you and Kate aren’t dating?” Wanda can’t help, but comment.

You roll your eyes, “Positive, Katie and I are just friends.”

“What did you do after you left work ?”

You all pile into the elevator as you answer, “Nothing really. We just watched some tv and ordered some food. How was it at the office?”

Wanda goes to answer but Natasha stops her, “No work talk out of the office.”

“Well then what are we going to talk to Dragos about?” You attempt to joke in hopes of brightening the mood.

“ You can call him Papa you know?” Wanda takes her time looking at you.

“I know-”

She cuts you off, “Mama too.”

You nod to yourself, “I know, it’s just not my normal.”

Natasha speaks up, “It honestly feels like you’re fighting against their names when you say them. Mama and Papa sound natural coming from you."

“It feels like they are my parents.”

“They are,” Wanda grabs onto your hand as you approach Dragos’ room.

The air feels different when you enter the room. It’s hard to look at him in such a state. He lies still on the hospital bed with machinery hooked up to him. There are less machines than originally, but still too many in your eyes.

Flora sits by the side of the bed with her hand in his. The view is somber, it takes nearly everything in you not to cry. Almost as if she can sense the tension building in your body, Wanda squeezes your hand.

“How’s he been Mama?” Wanda’s moved closer to her mother’s side, dragging you with her.

“The same, but the doctors are saying that's a good thing for now at least,” she sighs heavily.

“And how are you Mama?” You ask looking over the woman’s features.

Flora sends you a small smile, “I’m tired sweetheart, but I’ll live.”

“Have you been going home?” Wanda questions further.

“To shower and change clothes.”

Wanda’s voice takes a stern tone, “Mama, you need to rest.”

The older woman shakes her head, “I can't leave him for too long.”

“He wouldn’t want you spending all your time here,” you say softly.

“It’s not about what he wants for once. If he didn’t want me here he would’ve listened when I told him going to meet Fisk alone was a bad idea,” she glares at her sleeping husband.

“I’ll have his head for this,” Wanda gets agitated at the mention of Kingpin.

“Blowing up the ports wasn’t enough?” Flora comments.

“Power move, just to prove that there are no cracks in our business affairs,” Wanda’s jaw sets.

Flora looks at her daughter, “He’s not going to take this lying down.”

“I know.”

You squeeze Wanda’s hand to reassure her, “ We’ll be ready for him."

Flora lets out a sad laughter, “You sound just like him Y/n.”

“ That’s a compliment for the ages. I hope I could be half of the person he is,” your gaze falls into your lap.

“You already are. You kids have always made us both so proud.”

You desperately want to ask more about Dragos’ condition, but you refrain. The conversation stays light as you reminisce about the man.

Natasha doesn't say much, but her presence does provide someone to share with. She's hearing most things about her father-in-law for the first time. She's getting a good look into the man he is.

She pays attention to the way you and Wanda both light up when sharing stories. It warms her heart to see the two of you looking genuinely happy for the first time in weeks.

When it’s time to go the mood drops a bit, but not too much. It’s when Natasha goes to follow Wanda and Y/n out of the room when Flora stops her.

“You make sure they're taking care of themselves,” Flora hugs the redhead and whispers in her ear.

Natasha nods, “I will Mrs.Maximoff.”

They head home after that, exhaustion finally catching up to them.

A small dilemma plagues your mind when you get home. Part of you wishes to go with Wanda and Natasha into their apartment where you know you can get a good night's rest. The other part of you tells you that you shouldn't make it a habit. It's a lose-lose situation.

Begrudgingly you decide to go to your own apartment.

“I’ll see you guys later,” you try and give a small goodbye.

Wanda grabs your forearm, “You can come over tonight, if you need to. No matter the time. Alright, little krolik?”

Your eyes shift over to Natasha who smile, showing agreement with her wife, “The door is always open for you.”

You struggle to keep your composure, “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”

Your house feels extra empty as you enter. The weight of the day sets into your system. Getting ready for bed seems pointless as you know you won’t be getting any sleep.

Staring at the ceiling seems different, knowing that across the hall was the woman that you had spent your teen years pining over. Yet, knowing that she could love you didn’t make your heart flutter like it was supposed to. It sent an anxiety running through your chest.

You knew that she was probably curled up in the bed next to her wife. Her drop dead gorgeous, kind hearted, Russian spy, wife. A woman in a league of her own, in her own right.

The thought didn’t make you jealous, but it had an adverse effect on you. You wanted to be there, to be involved, to be a part of what they had.

You groan placing a pillow over your head in a dull effort to quiet your thoughts.

Your phone rings on the dresser and you pick it up, and mumble a hello with the pillow still over your head.

“Come over.”

“Natasha?”

There’s a hum over the line, “Yes, are you coming or do I need to come get you?”

You shuffle out of the bed, keeping the phone to your ear, “Is something wrong?”

“Well-"

She’s cut off by her wife, “Come to bed little krolik. I need the extra warmth.”

Natasha chuckles, “Wanda refuses to sleep in your absence. She’s getting a little grumpy.”

“ I’m not grumpy. Tell her to hurry,” Wanda argues with Natasha.

This makes your heart flutter like it’s supposed to, “Are you sure it’s ok Nat?”

“ Lisichka I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you back in our bed.”

You feel a blush take over your features as you exit your home.

“ Ok, open the door,” you murmur and it takes no time for the spy to let you into her home.

Natasha looks exhausted as she grabs you by the arm and drags you wordlessly to the bedroom.

Wanda’s already in the bed and when she sees you she does a grabbing motion towards you. You shake your head before climbing into the bed. She wraps her arm around your waist and snuggles closer to you.

“You sleep here now. It’s better for all of us,” She mumbles against your skin.

“Ok,” you don’t fight her on it, knowing she’d probably forget in the morning.

You look up at Natasha shyly. She still stands over the bed. In a similar fashion to Wanda, you stick out your arms for her.

Natasha grins as she climbs into your arms. You carefully drape your arm over the spy, resting your hand against her flat stomach.

For the second night in a row you find yourself comfortable in their bed. You all think about how you shouldn’t indulge in this feeling, scared it won’t last.

It’s like the couple can read your mind. Wanda’s hold on you tightens and Natasha turns to face you. They keep you safe in their embrace and the thoughts in your head quiet.

No one says anything, but you all feel it. There’s a shift in your relationship and you won’t be able to ignore it for much longer.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader #wandanat #kate bishop #pietro maximoff

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fraugwinska · 2 days

Note

What about the reader found and old radio, they thought the radio was broken but it's not, it's just antique.. when they play it at night time alastor broadcast was heard first they feel something is odd.. but they love to listen to his voice, heck they even like talking to each other, because of this encounter alastor talk about it to rosie, she was happy hearing alastor telling her stories but she feel odd when alastor mention that the person he talks to is a human, Rosie giving him advice to not fall for human because they're different species, and it will make him weak etc.

Alastor feel guilty and agree with rosie advice so he's stop contacting the reader from the radio, he thinks that the reader will be fine but no the reader take it personally.. they thought alastor don't want to talk to them anymore.. it drive them mad and lead to suicide..

So yeah angst :D

Oh Anon. What have you done. I cried while I wrote that - it took two very good friends of mine to encourage me to post it (Thanks to @macabr3-barbi3 and @mysterypotatoink). But I think it's tragic and beautiful, and honestly - I'm kinda proud of it! TW: Psychological Trauma, descend into madness, loss of self care and suicide - please take care of yourself and do not read if you aren't comfortable with any of the mentioned! MINORS DNI Here we go.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Leap of Faith

You carried in the last box from you banged-up minivan. The old thing barely made it to your new home. A little cabin in the outskirts of New Orleans, a little off the grid and surrounded by the peaceful and whirring bayous of Louisiana.

A fixer-upper, just like yourself.

The online auction had intrigued you the second you found it, the photos were a bit blurry and you knew it was a risk to buy a place you've never set foot in, but something in you called you to get it. The price you paid was laughable, barely making a dent in your savings. Moving states sounded scary and impossible, but you felt oddly calm about it. You didn't have a lot of stuff to move anyway. After all, you only lived with your late grandmother, and she never really cared for material things. Your parents left you at her doorstep, never to be seen again.

Caring for her in her last, sickness-ridden years had been a no-brainer - it felt like nothing in comparison to all she had done for you - but it also had been a bit lonely. You had your friends, if you could even call them that, but you rarely saw them - guiding your nan through the last months of her life had been demanding and time-consuming. It had left you exhausted and emotionally unavailable, and after a while, calls and texts ceased, until it was just you and her. You felt lost, as if the world was slowly pulling away from you.

When she finally died, peacefully in her sleep, you felt sad, relieved and drained. Detached from the city you lived in. Lost. So you decided to sell what little you inherited, except for a few sentimental mementos, and move away from it all. To start a new life, a happier one, finally one that was truly your own.

You took the final box inside, setting it on the coffee table and wiped the sweat from your brow. You looked around the little cabin: The roof had some spots that needed a patch, and the wood floors were a bit warped, but it was all yours. No more having to share anything with anyone.

The cabin came furnished, a lot of the stuff was old, but still usable. You figured that would change once you settled in and had a vision of what you wanted and needed to buy. The thought of thinking about no one but yourself made you nervous. But a little excited, too.

The old furniture would do for the moment, but there was a particular piece that caught your eye: an old, vintage cathedral radio, sitting nestled in between a cracked wooden box and a tarnished, bronze candle holder in a bookcase that was a bit out of place in the tiny space. With a tilted head, you stepped closer to inspect it, drawn to it by it's unique character and beauty. It looked as well-loved as it looked well-used, the mahogany a bit scuffed, the knobs a little worn from years of being turned. But there were golden details etched into the front, and you traced them lightly with a finger, strangely touched and intrigued.

You were certain the old thing didn't work, but when you plugged it into the nearby socket, static erupted from the speakers, making you jump back. You had to smile, though. Tonight, you wouldn't be alone. You'd have this little device and a little music for good company.

***

"I'm home!" you announced to no one in particular, as you closed the door behind you, your hands full with overfilled grocery bags full of necessities, waiting to fill your empty cabinets.

The day had been hot, but a welcome breeze of the impending night break cooled the inside of your little cabin a bit. With a quiet grunt you set the paper bags down at the small kitchenette. Your groceries were quickly dispersed, and you put on an apron you saved from your grandmother as you got started on dinner.

You hummed as you cut vegetables and boiled water. It had been a long time since you had cooked, really cooked, your nan wasn't much for eating and had no problem living off of simple soups and toast. When you opened your fridge to get some butter, your glance fell onto the radio.

A little music would be nice, you decided, and you walked over, cleaning your hands on the red, frilly cloth around your waist before you turned the dial. The soft sound of static made you hum in contempt - yup. Still works. A little turn to the left, and the room was filled with a soft jazzy tune, the melody a bit grainy, but you didn't mind that at all. You returned to the stove, swaying your hips to the beat as you worked. The music made you feel at ease, and for a moment, the world seemed to be just right.

Just as the onions began to brown in the pan, the song faded out to a voice. You turned your head to the radio, intrigued by the unusual, eccentric accent of the host. It reminded you of the old, vintage films and recordings your grandmother had been fond of - wasn't it called 'transatlantic'?. Whatever it was, it made you smile.

"Now wasn't that a kick in the head, dearest listener? I sure hope you enjoyed the little musical interlude, but it's time to return to the real show! As usual, my name is Alastor, and you are listening to the best jazz, blues and swing music that Hell has to offer!"

You blinked, a little puzzled and yet amused. "Sure is hot as hell today, strange man in the radio.", you mumbled, chuckling as you stirred the bell peppers under the caramelized onions.

"Today we have a very special guest joining my humble broadcast, it seems. Pleasure to meet you, darling, quite the pleasure!"

"Oh who? Me?" you asked, looking theatrically over your shoulder with batted lashes, shaking your head over your own silliness. You weren't used to talking out loud to yourself, or even really thinking out loud. You were always alone, after all, but the little pretend-play was fun. You laughed a bit, waiting for the host's guest to speak.

"Of course you, little dove. Who else would I mean?"

You gasped, and nearly dropped the spoon as you whipped around, eyes glued to the humming, orange glow of the radio in the dim darkness of your living room.

"What's that? You're surprised, my dear? Don't worry, you're not the only one! This is a first for me, too. Never had a human join my program. I must say, I'm quite intrigued! Tell me, what is your name?"

Your eyes grew wide, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. You took a hesitant step backwards and hit the hot stove, making you curse under your breath. Was the heat finally getting to you?

"Don't be shy now, darling. I'm not gonna hurt you, cross my lil' old, blackened heart."

"I-I'm..." you began, swallowing as your fingers tightened around the wooden spoon. "My name is..."

"Yes?"

"I'm... crazy.", you mumbled, rubbing a hand over your face and chuckling a bit. You were just going insane, that's all. Must be the stress, combined with the intense heat. And lack of a companion, a tiny voice reminded you. Yes. Must be.

"Hello crazy, this is Alastor." The host laughed, together with a canned audience.

"Alastor...", you repeated, realization settling in - this wasn't a joke, or a trick of your mind.

"At your service, my dear.", the voice cooed. "Now, I believe you still owe me your name..."

***

You weren't crazy.

Or if you were, you didn't mind. Not with Alastor by your side - or, to be exact, in the radio on your bookcase.

After two weeks of ignoring the cursed radio after unplugging it in a wave of panic on your first night, your morbid curiosity got the better of you. You plugged it back in, and turned on the dial. Just once, you told yourself, then never ever again.

And that's how the two of you got in contact with each other once more. Alastor was as chipper as the first time you heard him, and after a bit of back-and-forth, he promised once again not to harm you, and you shared your name with him. The rest was history. He was very pleasant company. For a demon from hell.

You wouldn't classify the conversations you had with him as a real friendship in the beginning, but you did talk. Occasionally. Mostly in the evenings, when you cooked dinner: He'd ask you about your day and would pry eagerly for a little bit of gossip or new information about the modern New Orleans. When he let it slip that he lived in this very cabin in the 1920's, you weren't stopping with questions about what it was like back in his days, which he, in return, answered generously and enthusiastically.

The first few times he would try to coerce you into making a deal for your soul, casually sprinkling the offer into his small talk, but with enough blunt refusals and a few more days of radio silence (pun intended), he dropped the topic and seemed content on just talking. You, in return, found yourself relaxing into his charming company, your brain happily engaged with trying to wrap your head around him, or better, you tried to come to terms with it.

Weeks passed, and turning the radio on in the evenings became less of an occasional lapse of judgment but more of a routine you were looking forward to. You could tell the Alastor felt the same, his banter became less tense and acted, and a little more genuine. It made your heart swell in happiness, that someone out there seemed to appreciate your company – even if that someone wasn't human. Apprehension became amusement, and fascination became friendship. Oddly enough, you found common grounds in a lot of things: A love for cooking and good music. Preferring books over films. Red wine over white. A shared aversion of vulgarity, and appreciation for good manners.

Your nights were cut shorter and shorter, you would spend hours chatting on and on, until the deep darkness of night disappeared into a shade of blue on the horizon. Neither of you minded, at least that was what you thought. Alastor never ended the conversations with you. Either you had to say your goodbyes, or you would just fall asleep after hours of talking on your couch, and awake with a pained back to a shut-off radio. Then, after you'd realize that you would have a whole day ahead of you without hearing his voice, the loss would make your chest ache.

Two months into the 'thing', which was still a strange concept you could barely comprehend, the truth of the matter dawned on you: You liked him. Not just because he was a surprisingly amicable voice coming out of your vintage radio, a lively constant in the uneventful life you had made for yourself in Louisiana - he had become important to you, irreplaceable, even. An essential element to your life. You couldn't imagine how you'd gone so long without him, and yet, here you were, lost without him, scrambling through the hours until you could talk to him once more.

"Something on your mind, darling? You're awfully quiet today."

You held your fork and knife still above the salmon you had just been about to eat. It was the first meal of the evening in a long time where you weren't spending the entirety of the preparation time speaking to him, lost in thought about your blossoming feelings. He had gotten excellent at reading you like an open book - you should've gotten used to it after a couple of weeks of him catching on to every little change in your demeanor and knowing just what to say, when you were feeling happy, upset or nervous.

"Oh, um... no. It's nothing Al. Work had me in a wringer today."

"Is it your co-worker Susan again?" You could basically hear his eyes rolling, making you chuckle. "That name must be cursed, every single soul with that name is a menacing pain."

"Maybe,", you muttered, nibbling on a piece of the roasted fish. "This one is mostly just an ornery old bitch."

"Taking the words right out of my mouth, dear." he laughed.

There's was a comfortable pause, with just a gentle background noise of his ever-playing static and an easy, melodic tune coming from his program.

"Is that really all that preoccupies that pretty little head of yours?"

You blushed, picking at the food with your fork. "Bold for a guy who's never seen me to assume my head is pretty."

The radio crackled with pops and feedback. "Bold to assume I can't see you whenever I want, little dove." he said, his voice strangely deeper, tinged with something you didn't catch at the shock of his words.

"You... what?"

"And I can most assure you,", he purred out of the speakers, "pretty is a well fitting word to describe you."

He hummed in approval when your cheeks gained color, as if he knew his comment threw you off guard and made you turn a lovely shade of pink, but it didn't make it any less enticing.

***

"Alastor, if I didn't know better, I would say you have become smitten with this mysterious gal you're blabbing on and about."

Rosie giggled, hitting his shoulder in a playful, friendly swipe. "When will I meet her? Come on now, you can't hide her forever. Or are you afraid she'll like me better?"

She laughed, and Alastor forced a toothy grin. His long time friend was the only one he talked about you with, and he knew she was intrigued whenever she could smell a blooming dalliance, especially with a notoriously abstinent bachelor like himself. Normally, he would laugh at that thought with a healthy dose of mockery, but he found himself to be less and less aversed at the thought - if it would be you. Impossible, of course.

"Nonsense, Rosie dear, nonsense,", he chuckled, taking a large sip from his coffee cup, a heavy hand bringing up a plate stacked with finger sandwiches. "And I'm afraid you won't meet her for a long time, maybe never. Humans seldom traverse to hell in their lifetime, and who knows if the little darling will take on the trip downstairs?"

Rosie coughed in her tea, her blackened eyes wide in shock. "Human? It's a human girl you've been courting here? Oh, Alastor, you old fool."

Alastor scrunched his nose, "Talking, Rosie, talking is all we do. And yes, she's a human. I don't see the quandary in that. It's just a little fun." "Well,", she huffed with a small, thoughtful frown. "I would've hoped for a little more sense in you." The tall demonesse set down her teacup with nimble fingers. "You may not call it courting, but if it quacks like a duck, it's a duck, love." Rosie ignored the indignant look Alastor gave her. "You know as well as I do that such a connection is dangerous to entertain. Humans are fragile and fragile things tend to break. And when they do, the owner mostly follows. You need to break this connection off."

Rosie gave him a sad look as his ears flattened against his head. She would've been more than happy for her oldest and dearest friend to have a partner on his side, someone good and honest who really cared about him, maybe loved him even, as unlovable as he was. But she had to protect him from the silly idea of possibly falling for a living, breathing and supposedly untarnished soul, and the heartbreak that would surely follow. "Don't make the mistake of breaking your heart, dear friend." she smiled, a tint of melancholy hidden in the red of her lips.

"I think it's far too late for that."

She offered a handkerchief, but Alastor waved her off, his smile more faint and close to a frown than she's ever seen.

***

The first day where nothing but static noise came out of the radio, you were irritated but just thought: 'Maybe Alastor has something to do'.

The second day of static you grew concerned. 'What if something happened to Alastor? Was he okay?'.

On the third day, you were panicked. 'Maybe he doesn't want to talk to you anymore! Maybe he met someone in hell, someone that he could talk to whenever he wanted and not through an old, dusty radio?'.

"Please talk to me.", you whispered into the empty room. Your knees were pulled to your chest, and you sat on your couch, eyes fixed on the radio in the bookcase. Your eyes stung with the tears threatening to spill. "Please, Al. I miss you." You shook your head, chuckling sadly. It had only been 3 days, but they'd felt like an eternity. The world had seemed silent without Alastor's constant chatter.

When night fell for the fourth day, you were half asleep, eyes red and burning and tears still staining your cheeks. You talked for hours into the void of your house, the radio now moved to sit in front of you on the coffee table, growing more and more desperate as hours passed. Talking faded into pleading, and pleading into begging.

"Please, I'm sorry, if I did something wrong, I'm sorry...", you mumbled into the wooden furnishing, resting your cheek against the top of the machine, eyes slipping shut with fatigue and defeat. A dry sob slipped past your trembling lips, as your hands desperately grabbed the sides of the antique device.

"Alastor please, don't leave me alone here...", you whispered with the last of your strength, before your body succumbed to your exhaustion, your unconscious mind welcomed the darkness.

If you had stayed awake for just a moment more, you would've, maybe, heard the faint shuddering breath beyond the static rumble. But you didn't. So you had no chance at knowing that, Alastor, listening to every word, saw and heard you at your weakest, and all it did to him was stir the embers and give the blaze an opening for the flames of his anger at fate to rage.

Work had called, again. Susan of all people. Threats were made - either come back to work, or don't come back at all. You smashed your phone. It was useless anyway. What was the point without...

Alastor wasn't here, hadn't answered for seven days now. And you had spent the whole time talking, begging him to show himself, just show himself and tell you what you did wrong, just talk to you one last time and then you'd stop, if that was what he wanted. You became obsessed with the orange light of the illuminated screen, imagining the flickers were maybe signs from him.

You stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped almost anything, you just sat, in front of the radio, unmoving and unwilling to miss the smallest sign of his return.

Every single minute stretched into agony, and every breath that left your lips made a fresh tear roll down your paling cheeks, until your body couldn't produce them anymore. Then, you cried wordless whimpers and moans, even started praying to an unknown entity.

It wasn't as if Alastor owed you anything. It's not as though you thought the two of you were anything other than two kindred souls, one human, one demon, talking to each other. As a result, it wasn't like you had the right to anything from him. It was strange to consider the connection the two of you shared: Something more than acquaintances, something closer than friends, and yet never fully crossing the line beyond it. The unpenetrable boundary dividing life and death in between.

Your eyes fell on a large, old crucifix on your wall, staring back at you with pity.

For the first time in days, you left the sofa, took it from the wall and burned it on your gas stove, watching the face of the nailed figurine slowly melt in the fire.

***

It had been eight days of excruciating, one-sided silence.

Eight days Alastor cursed his cowardice as he sat, red eyed with claws digging into his scalp, as he listened to you plead for him to talk - To answer. To do anything. Anything, but leave you alone, he heard, as if the words were spoken right in his ear.

Eight days of watching you slowly detriment from the eyes of the shadows he was able to manifest above, tugging on the very fabric of the world to move you, to keep your mind from going where it shouldn't go.

He kept telling himself it was for the better. His shadows murmured persistent reminders that he should find entertainment in your growing lunacy. He was the radio demon, after all. He shouldn't care if this wisp of a human were to perish, should laugh at your wails of agony and despair.

But Alastor never felt less like laughing. Your dried sobs and pained apologies for things you never did wrong in the first place filled his head, taunting and gnawing on him with feelings he thought he was unable to feel: Guilt and Regret.

It was as Rosie had predicted - he was becoming weak. But weakness was something that should be avoided. Had to be. He knew. Being weak, being feeble, would make him vulnerable, make him into the prey his cruel from already portrayed to the world he had to inherit. He couldn't allow it. Couldn't let his feelings for you bring him down to the levels of the sinners in hell he would tear apart and laugh while he did it.

That's why he stayed silent. Endured it, all of it, every word, cry and plea. Stayed invisible and silent, waiting for you to move on, forget him, shut off and leave the radio, never to turn the dial again. For your sake and his.

When the connection broke, on that eight day, Alastor could feel your resignation, your peace with which your pale hands gripped the electrical cord at it's base to pull. And he was suddenly filled with the awareness of something horrible, like a premonition. It set his already battered, aching heart in an ice cold grasp of dread.

His room exploded in green light as he expanded into his full demonic form, his limbs threatening to pull and burst at the stitches and his smile splitting his face almost entirely in half. He had to reach out, had to reform the connection to the radio one last time, even though nearly impossible.

You were about to do something he would never be able to forgive himself for.

***

Your car broke down just where it needed to. You took the radio out of the trunk, knocking the hood two times for a goodbye, the key safely in the ignition. Maybe some other poor soul would find and repair it, make happier memories with it.

You clutched the wooden device closer and started to walk. Indigo blue faded into black as you looked up to the sky that was sprinkled with glowing, shimmering silver dust, stars blinking in the unimaginable distance. There, but out of reach. Just like him. Your dry sob stung in your throat, but you didn't really feel the pain. Your eyes were fixed on the path to your final destination, right in front of you.

The Crescent City Connection Bridge was mostly abandoned by traffic at this time of night and provided just enough covered spaces to hide you from some foolish saviors eyes.

You didn't need to be saved.

You didn't want to be saved.

Because you were about to save yourself.

There was nothing waiting for you in the other direction than the one you were going. So, with slow but steady steps, you walked towards the middle of the bridge, settling on a place next to a metal pillar and looked over the railing onto the shimmering waters of the Mississippi River.

Alastor had told you about the river, how he loved to watch the steam boats floating on it from the radio station where he worked at when he was alive. The station was long gone, you didn't even find out where it had been in the first place, but you liked to imagine that you were looking at the same scenery now that he had been looking at when he peered out of his booth in his radio tower. It made you smile through the tears... You were glad the end was somehow connected to him, even if it was most likely just your naive imagination.

It felt like the device in your arms was emitting static energy, prickling over your arms, hands and fingers as you caressed the mahogany wood gently, feeling as though the radio was shaking in your hands, trying to pull you back from the fenced ledge.

A quiet sob escaped your lips, turning into a giggle and into hysterical laughter. You sat down between the railing, and hugged the radio close, trying to breathe as you closed your eyes, resting your temple on the worn, warm wood.

"It'll be okay, Al.", you said quietly, your voice unnaturally hoarse and rough from lack of use and dehydration. "I'm coming. I'm coming to you.”

With one arm around the radio, holding it tight against your chest, you turned to stand on shaky legs, gripping the railing with one arm and, with one final glance at the stars above you you smiled. You heard sirens in the distance, and some people shouting from a sparkling streamliner passing under the bridge. Time was running short, so you didn't wait to put first one foot over the fence, then the other, taking a deep breath.

"I guess doves were always meant to fly."

And, with that, your body twisted, turned and leaped, falling as the light on the radio, firmly pressed against your heart, began to glow in deepest crimson and swirls of green.

Falling like an angel would descend from grace.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angst #trigger warnings #minors d #minors don't look #minors dont touch #yes I'm crying #you're crying too #we all cry here #no judgement #quickf #quickfic

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on-leatheredwings · 2 days

Note

It's not a request, just wanna know your thoughts about yandere masochist Tim?

•́ ‿ ,•̀

> romantic 18+ > twcw: bdsm, yandere-typical behaviors, can be read as dub-con despite reader being the dominant > kinda treated it like a hc/imagine request anyway hahhh it was fun to write!

Man, yandere masochist Tim would be a little bit of a mindfuck. But a delicious one, to be sure! I think the relationship is initially enticing to you because, well, Tim's the one getting dominated here. You're the one with the upper hand.

(He thinks it's very cute of you to assume that. Despite being the submissive, Tim’s definitely the one in control here.)

On a surface-level, Tim would enjoy letting go and putting himself in your hands. The Bats are adept at multitasking, but even geniuses like them get… stressed. Sometimes he doesn’t want to think, Lord knows he does enough of that already. Sometimes, it’s nice to be the pawn in someone else’s game for once, but also be able to enjoy it.

On a deeper level, Tim likes being your sub because it truly means that he's yours and you’re his. He loves when you pull at his hair, nip at him, or bully him. Your anger, your passion, your punishment– only he gets to see and enjoy the darker sides of you that you keep hidden from view during the day. Tim is greedy. Both the pain and pleasure you dish out is for him, and him alone, to take. And the same goes for your softness during the aftercare.

I see Tim enjoying being any flavor of masochist/sub, depending on his mood. And depending on yours as well! He can be a feisty, vexing brat with a smart mouth or a whimpering, pleading submissive. He has nothing if not the range! I think he’d really enjoy spanking or flogging.

His favorite position is head down, ass up. He likes the vulnerability and surprise, and the option to hide his face and mewl into the sheets. He's partial to being blindfolded as well! He enjoys bondage and shibari, too. He could easily escape, but he doesn't - that's him showing his respect, adoration, and trust for you.

Tim's more … possessive qualities will show themselves if you aren’t in a relationship with him, only friends with benefits.

"I may... find another sub, if that's okay with you?" No, it's not okay with him. Only he gets to see you this way. He feels obscenely, viscerally opposed to the idea, but he smiles amicably to your face.

Tim’s requests get more and more extreme to keep your attention. Show you that he lacks nothing, and he can go farther than any other masochist you could find. However, you didn't ask him to perform this way. Sure, you may be the dominant here, but your boundaries still matter don’t they?

“Fine… but this is the last time, Tim,” you say, relenting. You’ll find him nodding, agreeing that of course, of course, just one more time for pity’s sake. That night, he’ll make sure to make the sweetest sounds. His role usually takes and receives, but Tim decides to also give. You can sit and ride his face until you orgasm. In your post-coital glow, you'll lie sandwiched to each other, breathless. He'll have your fingers trail on his skin and trace the bruises and the pretty pink welts you've left.

He'll whisper his agenda in your ear. You've always been easier to convince after loosening up. Okay, so maybe he was more hardcore than usual tonight, but you liked it, too. Why ruin a good thing? What could anyone give you that Tim can't? Maybe you really don't need to find someone else.

And most importantly, Tim will make it seem like you arrived at that conclusion entirely by yourself.

#yandere batfam #yandere tim drake x reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake #yandere tim drake #queue #tw nsft #mine

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angelltheninth · 19 hours

Note

"I want to taste you so badly." Malleus Draconia IM ON MY KNEE'S 😭😭😭

I do want to taste him you're so right.

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, blowjob, teasing, hair-pulling (for Reader), seduction, cum swallowing, flustered Malleus Draconia, feral Malleus Draconia

A/N: What do you think he tastes like? Since his powers are green I would guess maybe slightly minty.

3. "I want to taste you so badly."

"Don't force yourself, darling, this will pass on it's own." So your boyfriend said but his hands tangled in your hair anyway. He didn't have to push your lips close to his cock, you were already pressing little pecks along the underside.

"We have gym class soon. Besides, are you telling me you don't think I can suck you off in a few minutes?" You circled your hand on the base of his shaft, slowly pumping as your lips got close to his cockhead.

Time may have been limited but he was already close, already hard before you got his cock in your mouth, this would be easy. All you needed to do was lick him and he was twitching and pulsing against your tongue.

Malleus held it together pretty well most of the time, only really losing it when his mating season starts and he fucks you day and night for as long as it lasts. His pupils are blown wide as he looks at you, a thin ring of glowing green around them and his fingers massaging against your scalp as your lips open around his tip. A breathy growl falls from his lips. You take him just past the broad head, swallowing hard.

"You are... not exactly helping." If he was in a mating frenzy he wouldn't allow this teasing.

"I need to make sure you come a lot. I want to taste you so badly." With that you glanced outside, seeing other students gather bellow. Luckily you were pretty high up in the school, no one could see you here, which is why it was your favorite spot in the school. You finally leaned all the way down, tasting his full cock.

He couldn't hold his hips still but he also couldn't push his dick any deeper, already feeling his balls pressing against your chin. "You're making me impatient, we're running out of... fuck, that's better."

You bobbed your heads up and down, always lingering around his tip and giving it a little suck.

"You want to taste me? You better drink it down then." He huffed as he pushed your head all the way down as his cock twitched against your tongue. You hummed at the salty, strong taste flowing down your throat in hot burst. As he panted his horns knocked against the board behind him. "I... you don't actually have to drink all of it."

But you wanted to, you didn't let him push your head away until his cock went soft in your mouth. You pulled away with a wet pop, hands quickly going to your mouth to clean the cum away before it dripped to the floor. "I think I got it." Malleus blinked his horny thoughts away, if he started to think too much about giving you more you're not gonna make it to gym class but you'll get a good workout either way.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst headcanons #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst smut #twst malleus #malleus headcanons #malleus x reader #malleus hcs #malleus smut #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia smut #smut drabble

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tcustodisart · 3 days

Text

Because the farm is really Shadowheart's ending I was thinking, what would be Connie's post-game thing (he loves the farm life to pieces, but I was thinking, you know, if he was a companion what he'd be talking about during the epilogue party). And I came up with this idea - he writes and illustrates the very first Guide to the Birds of Faerûn. I don't want to torment you with my words, so if you're interested, the rest is under the cut. It's long but there are some additional doodles there.

About the book:

The book is basically like Collins Bird Guide. Including very detailed descriptions of what sounds the birds make.

Connie's already in touch with a publisher (recommended by Volo)

While Shadowheart does proofreading to see if it's digestible for non-bird-obsessed people, Connie's stepfather and Arnell help him with fact checking.

Connie was consulting Halsin while writing about waterfowl.

The book's dedication reads: "To my dearest wife and our four dogs, eight cats, nine chickens, six pigeons, four sheep, Daphne the milk cow, the odd little squirrel, Buttons and last but not least, our crow."

He thought that dedication was hilarious.

After publishing the book, he's been getting at least one letter every week regarding it.

Thanks to these letters the book gets improved with further editions.

He gets invited to various schools across the country to hold lectures but he almost always declines. (Public speeches aren't his thing and he also doesn't want to leave the farm that often.)(He made one exception for Gale because he asked very nicely and didn't take no for an answer).

Far in the future nobody remembers him as one of the heroes who saved Baldur's Gate. He's being remembered as one of Faerûn's best ornithologists.

Other companions reactions:

Lae'zel genuinely liked the book. So much in fact, she read it more than once.

Tara hates Mondays.

I projected on Karlach how hard it is to read books sometimes.

The scary part of the book was the birds of prey section.

Jaheira didn't even read the book, but she does a bang up job pretending she did. She's still very proud.

Shadowheart read it so many times during proofreading she could recite some parts with her eyes closed. For a week she had nightmares about geese.

Details:

Because whenever I make a drawing with a proper background I like talking about the details I put there. So:

The picture of magpies on the wall is the same one Connie gave Shadowheart in this comic. She kept it in the same book she kept the first night orchid he gave her.

That brigs us to the night orchid next to magpies. It's the same one.

There's a doodle of Shadowheart and Daphne near the window.

As references for all the feathers in this drawing I used feathers from my own collection.

Wooden duck is obviously the one Halsin gives you in the epilogue.

The bird drawings are from this drawing I made almost 3 years ago.

Oof, thank you for reading all that, here's one last doodle:

#bg3 #connecticut tav #shadowheart #baldur's gate 3 #oc:faust #what can i say: brainrot

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puckinghischier · 2 days

Text

Tattoos Together

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary: based off of the song tattoos together by lauv

notes: this idea was way better in my head, but i still think it’s cute and turned out alright. i’m obsessed with this song and knew i just had to write a nico fic based off of it asap. also, i know the timeline is all over the place bc nico is captain in this, and holtzy and dawson are here, but it technically takes place after jack’s rookie season. the beauty of fiction is that literally nothing is real, so let’s just all pretend everything is normal and chronologically correct 😊. hope you enjoy!! :)

[2.7k]

Summer was your favorite season for a number of reasons. First of all, you loved the warm weather. Being able to sit outside and soak up the sunshine was something your body desperately craved during the bitter New Jersey winters. You also loved the overall happiness of the general population that seemed to radiate during the summer months. Your favorite reason, however, was the fact that your best friends were always available to do whatever you wanted them to, because hockey isn’t played in the summer.

You hated that the Devils didn’t make the playoffs this year. You were as devastated as they were during that last game of the season, but you can’t lie and say you weren’t also ecstatic. You knew, the moment they lost the game that eliminated them from any sort of play off position, you were going to get a summer full of sun and fun at the lake house.

You had decided to take the warm season off from any internships or courses, not wanting anything to come in-between you and nearly four, uninterrupted months with your boys at the lake. You had decided to transfer to a college in Jersey so you could spend more time with Jack, not so you could stay in a strange city while all of your friends go to your favorite place on earth.

This year was especially exciting, considering Jack had convinced a group of his teammates to join in on the summer antics. Your anticipation for the warmer weather to arrive was only heightened once you learned a certain hockey captain would also be in attendance at the lake house.

You had been drawn to Nico from the first moment you met him after Jack’s rookie debut. Jack was so eager to introduce the two of you. He had made quick friends with the Swiss player after his arrival in the garden state and he wanted nothing more than his oldest and newest friend to meet one another and hit it off. Nico gave short, but kind, responses when Jack called you over to speak to him outside of the locker room; you assumed he was just tired and wanted to get home, but once you had seen him leaning against the wall in a crowded bar a few hours later, you made it your mission to make a friend out of the quiet hockey player.

You found yourself enjoying his conversation a little too much, basically neglecting Jack on his big night. The two of you talked about anything and everything. Nico had been in the middle of a story about his siblings back home when you suddenly realized the danger you were in. You hadn’t even been around this man for more than a few hours, and you could feel yourself falling for him. His kind eyes, the deep dimples when he smiled, and the care and attention he showed every single person that came up to congratulate him on the win, while also never failing to listen to your stories and stay engaged in the conversation with you, was making you spiral in the best way.

You knew you couldn’t go there, though. He was a big shot hockey captain, and you were only here for school. With the team’s busy schedule, you didn’t know when you would see him again. As soon as the light feeling in your chest had appeared, you forced it to make its exit. You couldn’t fall for him. You wouldn’t let yourself fall for him.

Over the next few months, however, you found yourself in Nico’s presence more often than not. Any team event that Jack dragged you to, you always found your way to where Nico was, striking up innocent, friendly conversation. If you were attending a home game at the Prudential Center, you were always cheering for Nico anytime he made a particularly important or skillful play. When he would come over to yours and Jack’s shared apartment, you always had some excuse for needing to be in the kitchen when they were, or passing through the living room and then planting yourself on the couch between the two ‘out of boredom’.

Nico wasn’t making it easy for you, either. Anytime the captain would score on the ice, it was you he was pointing towards during his celebration (or sending a text to ask if you were watching as soon as he was in the locker room for intermission, if it was an away game). If he had plans with Jack he would always send you a message, inviting you to tag along. Nico had even memorized your class schedule and your coffee order, bringing you your caffeine fix on lecture mornings when he would pick Jack up for morning skate. You found yourself talking to Nico almost more than you spoke to Jack, finding it harder and harder to keep your promise to yourself.

Jack could sense the underlying feelings you had for his captain, being able to pick up on all of your tells from the many years of friendship. He saw the way your gaze would immediately start sweeping any room you entered until it settled on Nico. He pretended not to notice the way you would always come out of your room on the mornings Nico was coming by before practice, hair and make-up already done, sitting in the kitchen to ‘work on homework’ before your lectures. He noticed when you bought his captain’s jersey, alternating between the 13 and 86 jerseys every other game. He noticed the way you would instantly perk up at the mention of Nico’s name in any conversation.

Jack also noticed the way Nico tried, and failed, to hide the feelings he had for you, as well. He noticed the way Nico would skate out for warm-ups and look around the glass until he saw you, waiting a few minutes before he made his way over to the glass where you were standing, pretending to be surprised when he turned around and found you behind him. Jack noticed the way Nico suddenly wanted to always come over to his apartment instead of Jack going to what the team refers to as the ‘captain’s quarters’. He noticed the way Nico would always come back with your favorite cocktail in hand anytime you were with them on a night out.

The back and forth between you and Nico continued for months, neither one of you ever taking the next step to admit feelings for one another. Jack wished the two of you would just get it over with at this point, the inevitable apparent to everyone but yourselves. So, when Jack opened the lake house invitation to Nico, Alex, and Dawson this summer, he can’t lie and say he didn’t have some ulterior motives.

Now, as you and Nico walked ahead of everyone else, lost in your own little world, he knew he made the right decision.

You had just eaten dinner, Jack having made reservations at a local seafood place he was dying to take everyone to, when you announced you wanted ice cream. You had suggested the small ice cream shop a short walk from the restaurant, wanting to stay out in the small lake town a little bit longer. You had sat next to Nico at dinner, staying in your own conversation most of the meal, being brought into the larger conversation happening around you only if either of your names were mentioned. The conversation followed the two of you outside, talking about his upcoming trip home.

“So, when are you leaving this utopia?” You asked him, shoulders bumping as you walked on the sidewalk beside him, a car driving by, causing your sundress to ruffle and flow in the passing wind.

“Not until the end of the month. Why? Can’t wait to get rid of me?” he responds with a playful smile, putting his hand on your back, pushing you over to the inside of the sidewalk, placing himself closest to the active road beside of you.

“Not even close,” you link your pinky with his, a habit you’ve gotten into anytime you’re walking beside him. “Dreading the day, actually. This is your first summer here, and you don’t even get to experience the best part!”

“I thought the best part was that you were here?” he references the statement you made when trying to convince him to make the trip to Michigan for the summer.

“Well, the next best part,” you respond, waving off his words. “You’re going to miss the boat parade on the Fourth of July!”

“A…boat parade?” Nico questions.

“Yes! A boat parade! Everyone decorates their boats and then drives them around the lake. Everyone here goes crazy for it. People don’t spare a single expense when it comes to boat decorations. One family even paid those statue street performers to play Uncle Sam and Lady Liberty on their boat on year,” you explain, earning a laugh from Nico.

“Why do I have the feeling you would have done that if you thought of it first?” he asks in-between chuckles.

“Because I would’ve! I was so mad that I didn’t even think of it. The only year we haven’t won it. Well, other than the years we haven’t been able to make it up here,” you shrug, thinking of all the time you’ve missed out on in the past few years.

“Well, you’ll have to come up with something even crazier this year. To make up for all the lost time,” Nico squeezes your pinkies closer together, knowing how much you hate the summers you can’t come here. “Look, you could go get a tattoo of the American flag, or something. Decorate your body, not just your boat. Really commemorate the summer,” he points to the tattoo shop you’re walking past, laughing at the craziness of the idea.

Maybe it was the heat finally getting to you. Maybe it was all the lake water you had swallowed the past few weeks. Or maybe it was the build-up of the months worth of feelings you’ve had for the man in front of you, but something in you made you say “Let’s go do it.”

“What?” Nico stopped in his tracks, looking over at you like you had three heads.

“I said let’s do it,” you said again, a serious look on your face.

“As in let’s go let you get a tattoo of the American Flag?” he asked again, confirming the idea forming in your brain.

“Yes. Well, I mean no. But yes,” you start, letting go of his pinky you were still holding on to. “I mean, let’s go get tattoos to commemorate the summer, like you said.”

“Like…right now?”

“Yes, right now. Why not? It’ll be fun. At the very least it’ll be a story to tell one day,” you try to convince him, acting as if this isn’t the most out of character thing you could suggest.

“I mean, what would we even get?” Nico asks, the word ‘no’ never coming out of his mouth.

“I don’t know, whatever you want. It doesn’t have to be anything big. Or anywhere where everyone will see it. It can just be something we know we have, y’know?” you continue to try to convince him.

“Hey! Why’d you two stop? The ice cream shop is another block down.” Jack asks as the rest of the group approaches the two of you.

“Y/N is trying to convince me to go get a tattoo with her right now,” Nico tells everyone, earning a collection of shocked faces.

“You two? Getting matching tattoos?” Dawson asks, looking between the two of you.

“They don’t have to be completely matching. Just something to make us thinks of this moment. This summer,” you explain. “We could all get one, actually. As a group!”

“You’re out of your mind if you think any of us are getting tattoos right now,” Jack speaks up, not scared to call you out on your stupid ideas.

“I don’t think it’s that crazy of an idea. It could be fun,” Nico surprises everyone.

“Cap, are you serious? You’re thinking about going and getting a tattoo right now?” Alex questions.

“I’ve been thinking about getting another one for awhile now, so why not right now? Like she said, it’s a good summer memory, Holtzy” Nico shrugs, sounding like he’s made up his mind.

“Of course you would agree to get a matching tattoo with her. You guys are practically attached at the hip anyways,” Dawson says, causing both you and Nico to flush a light shade of pink. “You guys go have your fun, get matching tattoos, but we’ll be eating ice cream, loving the taste of no regrets,” Dawson gives up the fight.

“Just…don’t get each other’s names on your foreheads,” Jack says, shaking his head as he walks away.

Dawson and Alex follow Jack, grumbling about how they can’t believe you’re actually going to do this. Alex slides in a “at least ask her on a date first, cap” as he walks away, Nico praying you didn’t hear the comment.

You turn towards Nico, holding your hand out. “You ready?”

He takes your hand, letting you pull him into the tattoo shop’s open door. “Let’s go get tattoos together.”

An hour later, you and Nico walked out with two fresh wounds on your ankles.

Both of your tattoos were so small you truly had to look for them to notice them. You had ended up getting tattoos that were technically matching, but could have meaning on their own, too. The artist had laid out a bunch of stencils she had ready to go, letting you pick from the pile which ones you wanted. You had found a small heart with devil horns, pointing it out to Nico and jokingly suggested he get it to show his Devils heritage. At almost the exact same time, his eyes landed on a small heart with a halo over it, his eyes lighting up.

He had agreed to get the devil one only if you got the matching angel one. So, twenty minutes later, the stencils were placed and you both sat on the table as two different artists tattooed you simultaneously.

The rest of your small group teased the two of you about it for the rest of the summer. After Nico left at the end of that month, the conversation shifted from teasing about the tattoos, to teasing about when the two of you were finally going to admit your feelings to each other. You waved off their words, sticking to your explanation of you two being just friends, but they didn’t let you forget that, in their words, you ‘basically branded’ their captain.

When Nico arrived home, Nina immediately clocked the small tattoo on her brother’s leg, questioning him about it. He told her it was just a last-minute decision, something to do after the season was over, not wanting to hear any nagging about how irresponsible it was that he let a girl he was even dating talk him into getting a matching tattoo. But, when Nina saw your Instagram post at the end of the summer, the very last picture showcasing a small, familiar looking angel tattoo, she barged into Nico’s bedroom, demanding answers.

“Nico, you better explain to me what the hell is going on here, because last time we spoke you hadn’t even told her you have feelings for her yet,” Nina interrogated Nico in their native language.

“Yeah…well that hasn’t really changed. Just…haven’t found the chance yet,” he avoids talking about the tattoo, choosing to talk about the other half of her question.

“Well after this, what the hell are you waiting for?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. What if she doesn’t feel the same way? What if she moves back home after she graduates next year and just leaves me behind?” Nico voices his fears to his older sister.

“Nico, she asked you to get matching tattoos. There’s no way she doesn’t feel the same way as you. I haven’t even fully met the girl, only having talked to her on your facetime calls, and I can see that she’s head over heels for you,” Nina encourages Nico, causing a warm feeling in his chest at his sister’s words.

“Well, when you put it that way…” Nico trails off, thinking about the events of this summer in full. “You know what, you’re right. As soon as I get home, I’m telling her. What’s the harm? And if she doesn’t have feelings for me, well, at least we’ll always have tattoos together.”

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quokkawritesarchive · 2 days

Text

BLUE SUNRISE — JISUNG.

pairing: jisung x reader(afab) genre: smut, NSFW warnings: sub!jisung, noona!reader, age gap, slight degrading, face sitting, handjob, praising, use of “good boy” a/n: reposting this because my haters reported the original post LOL. also fyi jisung had blue hair for MAMA 2018 awards (december 10th). and he turned 18 in september. so respectfully get a life and fuck off my page

blue hair, a guitar over the shoulder, an earring in the lip and the eyebrow, big scared eyes — that’s what the guy looked like on your doorstep.

“this is jisung.” your younger brother said, pointing behind him.

it was a month ago, in the middle of july.

your brother had just returned from college for the summer holidays and decided to bring a friend with him. why he had to be introduced to the whole family, you still couldn’t understand. but your first thought was that he was going to come out and introduce jisung as his boyfriend.

contrary to the slutty look, jisung behaved very shyly. he hadn’t addressed you directly all evening, stood awkwardly in places, but continued to throw quick glances at you, probably thinking that you didn't notice anything.

inadvertently, you looked at him too, when he turned away. everything about him made you want to watch. sharp jawline that you thought you’d get cut if you touch it, eyebrow piercing with a large earring, vibrant blue hair, dark eyeshadow, but at the same time a beaming smile — the contrast was killing you.

fortunately or not, this was not your last meeting. your brother ignored your initial complaints and gradually you've started seeing jisung almost every day — watching him eat your family's supply of chips, play video game with your brother, stay for dinner and then overnight because it's "too late to go home". you gradually got used to seeing him in your field of vision so often.

but that didn't help the feelings you were fighting. jisung was the same age as your brother, which meant he was four years younger than you. it didn't seem right to think of him that way, but looking at the piercing in his lip, all you wanted was to know what it’d be like to kiss him.

no matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to ignore his presence. especially when he was walking around your house in his swimming trunks and calling you “noona”. you couldn't stop those butterflies in your stomach, and the desire to pinch him under you, make him moan your name. in the past month you realized how much you needed a dick. his dick.

but jisung either didn’t notice how flustered you were getting next to him, or was afraid to overstep the invisible boundaries. he never looked at you longer than he was “supposed to”, didn't come into your room without knocking, didn't even touch you, and barely spoke to you.

it was a game with fire. with such an age difference, if you were caught, you would get beaten up not only by your parents, but also by your brother. that's why all you could do was watch him from the sidelines, memorize his habits and things he liked.

you didn't notice how you learned every little detail about him. his favorite food was chocolate cake, the anime he loved to rewatch was “howl's moving castle”. he could fall asleep in any place and position, but at the same time he liked to do something until the sunrise.

it was the middle of the night when you heard strange sounds coming from the garage. for a second you got scared, because your family used it only as a storage. that's why the last thing you expected to see in this musty part of the house was jisung, enthusiastically playing something on the guitar at three in the morning.

"i'm sorry... did I wake you up?" he let go of the strings, raising his head in your direction. strands of blue hair fell over his forehead and he casually brushed them aside without taking his eyes off you. it was unusual to see his bare face. without a heavy eyeshadow he looked even more like his age.

"no..." and you didn't lie. you really weren’t sleeping, jerking off at the thought of him fucking you raw. you were going to wash your hands, and finally fall asleep, but the noise brought you here. you awkwardly stumbled in the doorway, until jisung invited you in.

that night he sang you what he's been working on. he even showed his notebook — million of neatly written words on paper dedicated to someone. the intimacy of that moment was so unusual and strange for your relationship, it made you feel special. you will always remember it.

after reading a few lyrics, you realized that he was writing about a girl he couldn't get for some reason. the girl he fell in love with at first sight and now couldn’t get out of his head.

and it hurt you to think that somewhere out there, most likely in college, there was a girl he wanted so badly that he even dedicated a song to her. you tried to act casual while listening to him sing. it sounded magical, and you admitted once again how talented he was. even though deep inside you felt like you were ready to cry. why did you even check this stupid garage?

despite your inner pain, your curiosity and desire to get to know him better were stronger. that’s how your musical nights started.

at first you only listened to him, but then you asked him to teach you how to play. and soon the night concerts turned into night lessons.

the dim light of the floor lamp, dusty boxes and an old sofa in the corner, and the two of you in the center of the room — on chairs that should have been thrown away ten years ago. but even under those conditions, you were happy. you finally found an approach to jisung, found that point of contact, what unites you.

the interactions outside of night hours changed too. jisung started to act more calmly around you. the greatest indicator of the changes were his light touches. he’s never touched you before, even when he started teaching you. but now he would grab you by shoulders when passing by, could grab your hands to put them in the right position, and other light skin contact that was putting your body on fire.

jisung was peaceful and focused during lessons, unlike you. it was hard for you to keep cool, after seeing him in pajama pants and a tank top only. his arm muscles were so prominent, especially when he was playing. he also had a habit of licking his lips quite often and playing with his earring. at first you thought he was teasing you, but nevertheless, your eyes kept gluing there.

“bb-dm-c and repeat bb-dm-c.” jisung’s fingers plucked the strings with ease, while you struggled to simply get yours in the right position.

you sighed heavily and buried your hands in your palms. everything was going wrong tonight. it all began with your ruined orgasm, when, for some reason, jisung knocked on your door thirty minutes earlier than usual. so now you were sitting with a puddle of wetness in your panties, trying not to squirm too much. you tried to follow his words, but your wet pussy was making you lose all your focus. your body didn’t even need a light touch from him — his presence was enough to cause a reaction.

"it's okay, noona.” he patted you on the shoulder and gave a reassuring smile. "look at me and try to remember the movements of my fingers, okay?"

the melody of the chorus continued, followed by his soft hums. the truth was — you didn't exactly hear what he said. you only stared at his pretty lips moving, and the way he clamped the earring between his teeth, starting to play. you were so so down bad for someone you’ve only known for a month. he was your brothers friend for fuck’s sake. and still you couldn’t help but stare at his bare face like a lovesick fool, study how his biceps strained when he changed chords, notice his adam’s apple bobbing when he sang.

“got it?” jisung stopped, a bit of shyness still remained in his voice.

“y-yes…” you gulped and instantly nodded to save your ass.

god, why was he making you shutter like this?

“okay.” he put his guitar aside. “then show me what you’ve learned.”

“w-what?! no! we just started on the chorus!” you wished you could scream louder, but it was already past two in the morning.

“sorry-sorry!” jisung immediately surrendered, his cheeks getting all puffy out of embarrassment. his tongue ran over his lower lip and stopped at the piercing, sucking on the metal.

you felt your pussy starting to throb even harder, and clenched your legs, not taking your eyes off his lips.

“i know.” not even a second of thinking jisung loudly sighed and stood up, now looking at you from atop.

your heart started racing as you saw him towering over you. what was he doing? you were ready to apologize for being such a bad student and for wasting his time. guilt quickly took over your body and you gave him a sympathetic look.

“hey, i think we can continue tomor-” you began, but got cut off by his hands on yours bringing you up.

“come here.” he said boldly, while leading you with him on the couch. “sit on my lap.”

“w-what?” your eyes were still on his hands, breathing becoming an impossible task as he shifted your body to where he wanted you to be.

he placed one hand on your waist, pressing you closer to his chest, as the other picked up the guitar and put it over your legs. then he grabbed your hands and placed them on the instrument, seemingly ignoring your flustered state. his breath was ticking your neck, and you could feel his chest rising and falling as he breathed. thankfully, he couldn’t see your red face from behind. a soft hum escaped his lips as he seemingly got satisfied with the position you were in.

“alright. try to remember where i place your fingers, ‘kay?” he said softly and you slightly jerked.

it was the first time you were that close to each other. the wetness between your legs became unbearable, your panties were absolutely drenched by now.

you thought you would be able to sit through it until he placed his chin on your shoulder for a better view and his chest got pressed impossibly close to your back. that was it for you. if you didn’t get out of his lap now, you would end up fucking him right here.

“jisung- stop…” you sighed loudly, trying to get up.

but your attempt was interrupted by his hands going on your waist again and holding you tightly in place.

“what’s wrong? i’m trying to help you.”

did he really not understand what he was doing or was he just pretending?

“can’t you see how flustered you make me?!” you nearly yelled in annoyance, finally turning at him.

“oh-“ jisung froze, blinking at you stupidly. “why?”

you were about to laugh in his face.

“because you are so fucking hot?” the annoyance in your voice mixed with embarrassment. “are you really that dumb that you can’t see how i’m always horny and wet around you?!”

“oh- i-i’m sorry…” he said carefully, looking shyly to the side. “i actually didn’t realize that- i’m sorry…”

his face turned completely red, but his hands hadn’t left your waist.

you weren’t even angry at him anymore, just insanely needy and turned on. the blush on his cheeks was so cute, and the way he avoided eye contact made you want him even more. you took him by chin and forcefully turned his head to face you. jisung gasped, still the most red you has even seen him be.

“not so bold now, huh?” you teased and leaned close to him, so he could feel your breath on his lips.

“i… uh- i-” it was unfair how he looked even cuter like that, all nervous under you.

you would lie if you said you didn’t fucking adore this side of him. it also made you want to tease him more, so you did.

“do you want me to kiss you?”

he stared at you dumbly for a second as if his brain stopped working.

“do i… noona… oh god-” his mouth hanged open as he gulped, and you smiled at his expression. fuck, how was he even real?

the room grew silent, nothing else other that the tense breathing from the two of you. jisung kept switching between your eyes and lips, while you were waiting, searching for a sign of discomfort, for him to say that he wasn’t thinking what you were thinking of right now.

but he didn’t. he was just as desperate for you, licking his lips in anticipation. you could see how nervous he got by he way he kept twitching his piercing again. god, you wanted to feel it so bad.

for the first time in your life, you weren’t afraid to make the first move. millimeters between your faces disappeared as you finally placed your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him impossibly closer to you. his blue hair were soft and he moaned quietly, when you tucked your fingers in them.

the sharp taste of metal mixed with his saliva and his scent, attacking your already throbbing pussy. it was unusual to feel something else other than tongue and lips, maybe even a little disgusting, but at the same time incredibly hot. as soon as you felt jisung’s body relax under you and he started stroking your hips, you ran your tongue over his lower lip and played with the piercing, just like he always did.

jisung’s eyes opened widely and he broke the kiss, groaning like an impatient puppy.

“noona, what are you…”

his shuttering only made you want act bolder with him.

“wanna continue or-”

“yes-yes! please, noona! please!” jisung mumbled, his doe eyes looking at you from below.

“you are so sweet, jisungie…” you chucked, leaning in again to leave a quick kiss on his neck.

jisung joilted under you and you finally felt his eagerness poking your thigh. that only made your realize how badly you wanted to touch him more and you instantly reached down to grab on his dick through the fabric.

and then something happened — jisung whimpered… whimpered! and his expression settled into a mix of pain and desperation. it was an entirely new look on him — the one that you could only imagine in your fantasies before — a vulnerable, desperate side. clearly, he’s never looked like a dominant guy, but still you never would’ve thought you’d hear him whimpering under you. the wave of arousal that rushed down to your pussy almost made you pass out.

“shit, shit!” he groaned, watching you with blown out pupils as you kept palming him through his pants. “ah, fuck! noona, that feels so good-“

“yeah?” you smiled cheekily, satisfied with a state you’ve gotten him into. “want me to touch you more?”

“mhm-“ he whimpered again.

“shh, be quiet or you’ll get us in trouble.” you couldn’t forget about the fact that your entire family was still in the house sleeping. “if you keep whimpering like a horny bitch, someone will surely wake up.”

jisung’s eyes widened at your words and he bit his lip to suppress the sound that crawled up his throat.

despite your rebuke, you didn’t hesitate to pull down his pants and boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock. jisung hissed at the cool air, but still blushed, averting his gaze. the corner of your lips curved into a smirk and you pressed on the tip, watching the precum glistening. jisung let his mouth fall open in a silent scream of pleasure, his eyebrows furrowed together as he kept adjusting to new sensations.

to his credit, he tried to listen, but only lasted for a few seconds. he thought he would actually be able to keep quiet, up until you wrapped your hand around his dick and started pumping him slowly.

it was so enticing; this pace was too slow compared to how much jisung was turned on. but he kept sitting like a good boy, letting you control his body entirely.

he was looking at you from under half-closed eyelids, sweaty bangs tousled over his face, and chest occasionally heaved as he let out the most pitiful sobs you've ever heard. you felt as another wave of arousal hit you and shifted slightly in place, trying to remove the tension between your legs.

you watched how the veins on his dick glisten with wetness, how the skin gathered at the head. the way you started to flick your wrist, with your palm sweeping over the leaking tip, made him cry out even more, moaning your name.

“shh, remember what i said?”

“s-sorry- you hand feels so good… c-can’t-“

his whimpers were too good to your ear, and you couldn’t care less about being caught anymore.

why did he have to sound so seductive saying that?

jisung was moaning and squirming, leaking so much precum that you could feel your entire wrist getting covered in his desire.

“i’ve wanted this for so long.” he suddenly confessed, voice low and breathy. “why did you have to be such a tease, noona?”

his words made you pause for a second, staring down at him with a semi-surprised look towards his confession, until the realization hit you. he really was playing dumb this whole time! this little shit!

you gripped the base of his cock just a little too tightly, and pulled away to snap at him. “i’m not the one who teased.”

“‘m sorry- i just didn’t have the courage to make the first move, you know? i-i’m sorry! don’t be mad at me!” he kept blurting out, his mouth betraying him faster than his mind could keep up. “you look so hot and confident all the time, noona. of course, every guy is afraid to approach you!”

“afraid?” you slowly asked, your hand hadn’t left the base of his cock, only wrapping harder around it. “are you afraid of me?”

jisung whimpered, bucking his hips up embarrassingly.

“n-no, no! i’m just saying that you always look so pretty, and gorgeous, and hot, and i fell in love with you the day i saw you for the first time.” he started babbling, making you smile fondly. “i only hesitated, because you are that much older than me, noona. i didn’t think you would be interested. i even wrote songs about you…”

as you were about to say you forgive him, he mumbled the last sentence in a quiet voice and looked at you with those doe eyes.

oh, you were so stupid! you were about to smack your own forehead. how could you not put two plus two together this whole time? “the girl he couldn’t get and fell in love with at first sight?” of course!

“now shut up or i’ll stop.” you replied shyly, trying to act cool, while a pink shade of blush covered your cheeks.

“no-no, don’t stop. please. i’ll shut up. just don’t leave me here like this.” he said, clearly not shutting up and grabbed your hand in his, thrusting his hips slightly to meet the movements, silently demanding you to continue.

obviously, you wouldn’t leave jisung like this, especially after his confession. he was so stupidly cute, pure and adorable. you also couldn’t wait to see how he looks when he cums. almost as much as he needed to see you naked. you were still fully clothed sitting on top of him.

besides, it would be great fodder for your nights of shameful masturbation at the thought of this boy.

“‘m close… aaghh! s-so close, noona!” the noises jisung let out were beautiful and breathtaking. in that moment you wished you could record some of it for yourself.

despite that, you immediately pulled away, forcing him to open his eyes and pleadingly ask you: “noona?”

“eat me out first like a good boy, ‘kay?” you whispered, sending a shiver down his spine with your words.

as you finally got off from his lap and started undressing you heard his husky voice saying: “fuck- that’s hot.”

you giggled, looking back at him. he was staring at you like a painting in the museum, watching carefully as your clothes flew on the floor, scared to miss any second of it. his breathing got heavier as he watched you reveal more and more skin, his mind flooding with thoughts that he shouldn’t be thinking. but it was too late. you looked so good to him, he could feel his dick twitching, aching for the attention it so badly craved.

“enjoying the view?” you teased as you got rid of last bits of clothing.

jisung blushed, but kept looking. his desire finally overcame his shyness.

a shiver went through your body at the hungry look in jisung’s half-lidded eyes, now focused on the curves of your body.

you pushed him on the chest, signalizing to lay on the back and he obeyed, watching you move up toward his face.

“fuck...” he breathed out in shock, pupils blown wide, lips parted before the corners pulled into a hungry grin. he couldn’t believe his luck.

you looked down at the hearts in his eyes as your thighs come to rest alongside his puffy cheeks. your pulse suddenly quickened at the realization — you were about to let your brother’s friend tongue fuck your dripping pussy.

“you are so hot, noona.” jisung speaked up once last time on the edge of a moan. his voice was rough, thick with arousal.

he wanted to be used by you so bad that he wasn’t sure he could handle holding back anymore. particularly, when your glistening pussy was just above his face.

abruptly, jisung’s palms cupped over your thighs and brought you down to his face. his movements started uncertain at first, almost unnoticeable, but after a few laps of the tongue, he adjusted the pace, making your mind already racing. you even nearly leaped off his face.

“hold still, noona.”

the way he still kept calling you that while being completely crushed under your body made your breath hitch.

his hands gripped your thighs harder, locking you tight onto his face. you were not going anywhere.

all you could focus on was his tongue flicking up across your slick folds. he was eating your pussy like he was starving, paying no mind to your flinching.

he circled his tongue up around your clit. your moans came out hot and breathy, and you grasped at his blue hair, feeling overwhelmed.

“jesus, jisung… what the fuck-“

you could see the smile in his eyes and he only pressed into your clit harder after the praise. he was so damn proud of himself and the reaction he was getting from you.

“you taste incredible.” he mumbled before thrusting his tongue right into your cunt.

“oh- god! holy- fuck, slow down!” your plea was quiet and not convincing at all, especially when you started grinding on his face yourself.

your eyes rolled back in satisfaction and moans were probably so loud, your whole family must’ve been behind the door already. but you couldn’t care less, when jisung was eating you out like this. he was just devouring you. your head fell back and you spread your knees to sink down further on his face. your worries about accidentally suffocating the poor guy have been dispelled as he adjusted his grip and wouldn’t let you back up.

his nose kept touching repeatedly on your swollen clit and you cried out at the pressure. you were starting to lose control, your body threatening to submit to an intense orgasm at any moment… and that’s when you stopped.

“jisung-jisung, wait.” you put all effort to get out of his intense grip.

“what?” the disappointed look on his face made you wanna coo at him. “did i do something wrong? you don’t like it?”

“no-no! of course not!” patting his cheek, you crawled to the bottom of the couch, right where his still hard cock was. “i wanna ride you.”

you could hear how jisung’s breath hitched once again and you put all your effort not to chuckle at him.

you looked at his dick, trying to ignore the way your own breath hitched too. all you wanted right now was to sit on him, feel him fucking you raw. the fantasy you’ve been replaying over and over in your mind.

“wait- before we start…” jisung interrupted you midway.

he propped himself up on the elbows and you watched him with a genuine confused look. but he didn’t stop, ending up with his face next to your breasts.

“didn’t have time to feel them…” he justified himself and you chuckled in embarrassment.

but that emotion left you quickly as he started kissing down your neck, pausing to nip at your collarbone. his hands followed the curve of your breasts and you panted loudly to catch your breath.

the way he looked up at you while sucking on your hard nipple and pinching the other between his fingers, added to the heartbeat thumping between your legs. you breathed out his name shakily and bit into your lip. it was harder and harder to keep quiet.

jisung raised an eyebrow at you and flashed the naughtiest little grin, while keeping on playing with your breasts. you could feel the metal circle touching your sensitive flesh and it made you even more impatient.

“stop looking at me like that and let me ride you…” you scoffed, lightly pushing him in his chest. he sighed disappointingly, but complied. how could he possible be oppose that?

you wrapped your hand around his swelling dick and pumped it a little, giggling at his puppy-like whimpers.

“wanna fuck me?” you teased him, enjoying the desperation painted on his face.

you were absolutely loving this.

“oh shit- yes-yes, noona.” he nodded as he bucked his dick into your grip.

you leaned up and whispered in his ear. “wanna stretch me open? make me scream? watch how my tits bounce while i ride you? is that what you wanna do, jisungie?”

his face flushed completely at your words and he brought his hands to cover his pink cheeks, groaning in frustration. “stop…”

“aww.” you cooed. “is jisungie embarrassed? this is what you get for playing with me for so long.”

“but i apologized…” he pouted.

“correct. this is exactly why i’m still gonna fuck you.” you said, smirking at the way his rosy cheeks darkened.

dick pulsated hard in your hand as you slid it between your wet folds. jisung must have been so sensitive, moaning loud at this simple action, hands gripping on your thighs again. you let yourself sink down slowly, to feel and remember every second, every vein of his dick. a muffled moan came out of you as you sinked down further, arching your back. your heart pounded.

slowly, your walls began to stretch around his thick head. the senses were overwhelmingly delicious.

“noona…”

you were distracted by jisung’s whimpering underneath you. you opened your eyes and looked at his face, which showed a mixture of satisfaction, lust and embarrassment.

“noona…”

“what, jisungie?”

“i-i don’t think i’ll last long, if you are this slow…” he swallowed, licking his lips. “i-i don’t wanna rush you, of course. b-but i’m so fucking close.”

“i’m not even halfway in, and you are ready to cum?” you forcefully raised your voice a little just to see his flush deepen.

“‘m sorry…” he whispered.

“fine.” you sank down on his cock in one motion.

it filled you to the brim, and you both gasped at the feeling. the look on his face was well worth it. his head fell back, bitten lips parted, cheeks flushed, brows furrowed. a ray of sunrise on his face. it was the first time you really noticed how beautiful he really was.

you started grinding your hips and groaning at the feeling of his cock stirring up your insides. his hands switched to your waist, helping you stay in place, and your grip switched from his chest to the arm of the couch as you kept working yourself up and down in his lap. he was so deep inside you.

“good boy, jisungie…”

another needy moan fell out of him and his face looked almost pained by your words.

he didn’t want this to stop. he didn’t want to cum so fast, trying his best to make you slow down, but all he could do was whimper and moan like crazy, which only fueled your desire to act rougher.

it was all just hot. you couldn’t even feel the cold air of the garage anymore, sweat forming on your skin. your head rolled back as you came, feeling the familiar pleasure spreading through your body. jisung came right after you, his cock throbbed painfully as he saw the fucked out look on your face. he came right inside you and you moaned in satisfaction, feeling the thick liquid spreading over the walls.

heavy breathing and hot moans filled the room. jisung grinned when you mouthed a silent “fuck“ at him.

with his dick still inside you, you leaned in, letting your lips connect. you played with his tongue, enjoying the filthy squelching sound. that only made his pretty face to flare up even more.

“you look so cute like this, pretty boy. you can keep going on for me just a little more, can't you?" you said with a sweet voice, looking on his pretty doe eyes, making him feel like he really was the most special.

he couldn’t help but mewl out a little “yes”, while another shade of blush spread across his puffy cheeks.

you still have some time before everyone wakes up.

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syrupfog · 3 days

Text

Sanji who just wants a job as a sous chef but has yet to be hired, but has somehow managed to enter the world of being a private chef for extremely wealthy families.

He hates them they remind him of childhood but he needs the cash.

He starts working for Mihawk.

Mihawk who only eats odd, simple foods. Things that Sanji feels insulted to make. A LOT of toast with cream cheese and jam, honestly.

Sanji’s bored out of his mind (he starts canning the fruit from Mihawk’s garden to pass the time)

Then one day, bursting through the front door come two people his own age, a woman with pink hair and a man with green, DEMANDING to know why Mihawk moved without TELLING THEM, HIS OWN CHILDREN

Sanji immediately pegs them for stuck up assholes. He’s grown to respect Mihawk, at least (he’s better than the Charlottes were). Spoiled rich adult kids who expect their lifestyles to be funded. Ugh.

Mihawk blinks and says that he DID tell them.

There’s a lot more shouting as Sanji quietly pickles beets in the background. They come to some sort of truce around the idea that Zoro (the green haired one) lost his phone, and Perona (pink hair) blocked his number after Mihawk called at 2am about his yams.

They’re good yams, Sanji thinks.

He also learns that they were on a “road trip of self discovery”. He’s not sure what that means. It sounds like rich kid speak for “spending spree”.

They integrate into the household though and, after being introduced to Sanji, Perona demands pink. Anything strawberry.

Zoro says he’ll eat anything. Sanji doubts that.

He tests it.

He makes extravagant dishes.

Zoro doesn’t seem to even notice, eating without complaint.

Honestly it’s good practice. He uses it as an excuse to get back into the hang of the fanciest things Zeff taught.

But he still doesn’t like them. Rich assholes. Mihawk’s simple toasts get him a pass.

One thing about Zoro though is that he seems to spend all his time working out, so he comes looking for food at the ODDEST times. And SOMETIMES Sanji is ASLEEP. He’s got a room in the old servants’ quarters and Zoro will appear at any hour.

After the third time being awoken at 2am, Sanji snaps.

“I’m preparing you a fucking shelf full of onigiri,” he says, pointing with a judgmental finger at Zoro’s chest. “That’s going to be your midnight snack from now on! Some of us need our beauty rest!”

Zoro blinks down at the finger. “Okay,” he says. “I mean. You clearly need it.”

Sanji scoffs in outrage. He’s still half asleep. He aims a kick at Zoro’s head before he can process his one rule (“don’t hurt clients”).

Zoro dodges.

His face breaks out into a grin.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Curls,” he says.

Sanji stumbles. He regains his footing and stomps down the hall, face aflame.

He makes thirty onigiri.

Zoro eats seven.

“There, that’ll last you three more nights,” Sanji says.

Zoro nods. “So what time do I wake you up to get you to fight me again?”

Sanji splutters. “No!!” He shrieks. “It’s three in the morning! I know you’re a rich fuck with nothing to do but some of us have jobs! I’m on call 24/7 here!”

…he regrets it as soon as he says it.

Expects to be fired on the spot.

Zoro frowns. He crosses his arms. “Fine,” he says, tersely. “Go to bed.”

Sanji… does. He avoids turning his back on Zoro as he leaves the room, a bad feeling churning in his gut.

When he makes breakfast the next morning, he’s expecting to be fired as soon as Mihawk arrives, but Mihawk mentions nothing.

Neither do Perona or Zoro when they appear, hours later.

Sanji feels like he’s walking on eggshells until Zoro appears in his kitchen in early afternoon.

“Hey,” says Zoro. “I talked to my dad.”

Sanji hangs his head. “So I’m fired?” He asks, dread pooling in his stomach.

“Fucking what? No, Jesus. I just said you should have a regular work shift. Only like, ten hours on call.”

“So you docked my pay,” Sanji says flatly.

“Now you’re being an ass,” Zoro growls. “NO, you’re being paid the same, you’re just going to have time off when I can’t bug you. That cool?”

Sanji frowns, suspicious. “What do you get out of it?” He asks.

Crossing his arms, Zoro scoffs. “Not getting yelled at at 2am, mostly.”

“You could’ve just not woken me up,” Sanji says.

“You make it real hard to be nice to you, Cook,” Zoro says, running a hand through his hair. “I know you don’t like me, but I was just trying to do something nice.”

Sanji melts a little, but he’s not willing to give in entirely. “Well thanks,” he says. “For not firing me, too.”

Zoro rolls his eyes. “We’ve all had shitty jobs where we want to yell at customers,” He says.

“Now I KNOW you’re lying,” Sanji argues. “I know how rich you are. I know what Mihawk pays me.”

Zoro looks… funny at him. “Did he ever happen to mention that we’re adopted?”

Sanji blinks. Thinks of Zeff. “Uh, no?”

“Yeah,” Zoro says. “Fucking Daddy Warbucks situation. I was seventeen. Trust me, I know customer service. Had to work to eat.”

“Well that’s not fair,” Sanji says. “Now I feel like a fucking ass.”

“You ARE a fucking ass,” Zoro says. “Want to fight when you’re off work? Officially your shift ends at 6 now.”

“Dinner is for seven so that won’t work.” Sanji says. “Shut up I have a chef’s integrity.”

“You’re not turning down fighting me?” Zoro asks, sounding oddly hopeful.

“You spend all day working out so it’ll be unfair,” Sanji says. “But sure, I’ll kick your ass. Winner chooses what filling goes in your onigiri.”

“Spicy salmon,” Zoro says.

“Pickled plums,” muses Sanji.

They do end up fighting after dinner, out in Mihawk’s fancy topiary garden (he maintains it himself).

Bruised and panting, they end up making out behind the large rabbit-shaped tree.

It becomes A Thing.

#zosan #my writing

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ladymunson · 3 days

Text

One 18+

Fic summary: Bucky struggles with his feelings toward you, which he hides by pretending he doesn’t trust you. You get placed on a mission together where trust is essential.

A/N: sorry if this is all over the place, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything so this might be a jumbled mess. Enjoy though!

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral (f rec), fingering, language, unprotected p in v, kissing, heavy petting.

Word count: 5.3k

Not proofread and no beta (apologies for any mistakes)

I do NOT consent to my work being copied, translated or posted to any other platform.

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Dividers made by the wonderful @firefly-graphics and thank you to @jijilaufeyson for helping me make a decision.

“Are you serious?!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, “I’ve been with SHIELD for three years, I can do this mission by myself. I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Yes, you do.” Bucky sneers, you turn your head towards him and glare.

“I hate to agree with Barnes but he’s right, I think you still need someone to keep an eye on you. Your ex was HYDRA after all.” Tony says, as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You throw your head back in frustration, they’re never going to forget about him.

Three years ago, you had come back to the apartment you shared with you boyfriend of two years to find the place swarming with HYDRA agents. He had been assigned to you to eventually recruit you to HYDRA after they had discovered your abilities.

You’d always been able to sense how someone was feeling by just being near them and eventually it had morphed into being able to influence their emotions. You could walk into a party or a meeting and know exactly who to look out for, whether it be because they were vulnerable or someone with ill intention.

It took immense concentration, effort and energy to be able to change someone’s emotions without touching them. Which you always try and avoid, you don’t want to change someone unintentionally, you could ruin things for them. So, you manage to keep your emotions in check most of the time, and don’t accidentally influence anyone.

The moment you realised that Russell was HYDRA, you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, but they weren’t going to let you go without a fight. Luckily, you’d befriended the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, when you’d met her and Wanda Maximoff one night at a local dive bar after Russ had blown you off again. One text to her and they’d both been at your door and helped you get away from the agents and back to the safety of Avengers Tower where you’d been subjected to an intense interrogation from Tony Stark, Cliff Barton and Bucky Barnes.

You’d thought that after all the years spent training and fighting by their sides, they would trust you by now, but obviously they don’t. Or more specifically; Bucky doesn’t. Cliff had decided you were trustworthy the first time he interrogated you and had told them as much, but Bucky wasn’t hearing it. So here you were three whole years later, still deemed untrustworthy by the Winter Soldier of all people.

“You know what…?” You start and Bucky smirks at you, adding more fuel to the fire. “I’m glad you’re doing the recon alone, gives me time to pack.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “This is my last mission, I’m done. I quit!” You turn on your heel and leave the conference room without another word.

Bucky groans and places both hands on the table in front of him, flesh beside vibranium, and hangs his head.

“Well that went well Barnes.” Tony says as he walks over to the door. “Looks like I have to do damage control.” He points at Bucky. “You find something on that recon and figure out a way to fix this. We can’t lose her.” And leaves the room, the glass door swinging back and forth.

Bucky makes a fist and slams it down on the table in front of him. “Fuck!”

You stalk down the hallway, heading to your room, walking past everyone and ignoring them all as they try talking to you. Natasha notices and follows you to your room, the doors are automated so you can’t even slam it to let out your frustration. So, you throw your self face down on your bed and scream into the comforter. Natasha just stands by the door, not saying anything and waits for you to finish your screaming.

“Feel better?” She asks as you flip yourself over to lay on your back.

“I can’t believe he still doesn’t trust me! Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, I quit.” You say without looking in her direction.

“You didn’t quit.” Natasha says as she walks over to join you on your bed.

“I did, straight to Bucky and Tony’s faces. Both of them looked shocked but I don’t care anymore. I’m fucking done!” You say as you jump off the bed and begin going through your closet and putting clothes in a suitcase.

The one thing you want, is to have Bucky’s trust…. Okay there’s something you want more than his trust, but you’re never going to get it. If he doesn’t trust you to be member of his team, there’s no way he’s going to trust you in any sort of relationship. So rather than trying anymore, you’ve picked the nuclear option. Serves him right!

“Buck…?” Steve says as he walks into the conference room where Bucky is still hunched over the table. “What’s going on?”

“What is wrong with me Steve? Why can’t I trust people?”

“You mean y/n?” Steve asks. Bucky groans. “Buck, I think it’s obvious to everyone except you and y/n that you like her.” Bucky looks up at Steve. “In a romantic way.”

Bucky stammers, “N... no I don’t.” Steve raises an eyebrow and smirks at Bucky.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since she joined SHEILD, hell you haven’t even on a date in a year. You like her.”

“You’re right Steve, I do. But… She quit.” Bucky says as his head hangs head.

“What did you do? You know what, it doesn’t matter. Fix it!” Steve says and leaves the room.

You and Bucky avoid each other for the next week, but to be fair he was out doing recon for the mission with Sam, who had been ribbing him about his feelings for you and pissing Bucky off. They had however, been able to meet the mark and started integrating themselves into his world. Your role as Bucky’s girl would come later, and you couldn’t help feeling like he was ruining your chances to prove yourself. You could’ve done the getting to know the mark and maybe brought Bucky or Sam or even Steve in as your man later on.

You hated to admit it but their getting to know him first was the better plan as not many women were in that world.

The mark. Carlo Vizzini is the head of an organised crime syndicate, who deals stolen HYDRA and SHIELD weapons and technology to other members of the syndicate. The goal is to find the times and locations of all the shipments being brought into the city, finding a list of buyers would be the icing on the cake but it isn’t a priority.

Bucky’s role is to present himself as someone new to the area who wants to become a member of the syndicate. FRIDAY has come up with an elaborate backstory for the two of you, created entire histories for you both which you’ve spent the last week reviewing and learning. Your backstory isn’t too far away from your real story, so it isn’t hard to memorise. The problem is pretending to be his girl. How can you possibly work together and be convincing if it’s obvious to everyone that he doesn’t trust you. There has to be a reason why Tony suggested Bucky for the mission and not Steve, you don’t know what it is, not that you care because you won’t be around once this mission is completed.

The story. You and Bucky have moved to New York from Michigan, where was a mid level HYDRA agent who oversaw a warehouse that contained new tech. The place had been breached while he was attending a HYDRA event with you, and they had fired him for allowing the breach to happen (An actual event orchestrated by Vizzini).

You had been together for five years at the point you’re at, and Tony had decided to add the fact that you were recently engaged. So, you had to wear an obnoxiously huge diamond on your left ring finger, which really bugged you. You had both been set up in a brownstone in Brooklyn, sleeping in separate rooms but having to appear all lovey dovey in case you were being watched.

Four weeks later.

Carlo Vizzini has invited Bucky and you to an event hosted at his mansion in the Hamptons, where you will both be introduced to other syndicate members. So, you need a spa day and shopping trip where you can buy a dress for the event and be seen out and about acting like this is a normal occurrence. Tony has also arranged for someone from Tiffany to show up at your house and lend you some jewellery for the event as you’re a simple teeny hoop earring kind of girl.

You find the perfect dress while browsing online so it’s very easy to go and get it without having to actually search in store. Scratch that, Natasha found the dress for you and told you it would be a crime if you didn’t wear it.

The idea is to infiltrate the syndicate event, find the intel and get out without your cover being blown until the weapons and tech have been recovered. If your covers can last beyond that until the entire syndicate has been taken down, that’s even better.

So, you’ve been to the salon and had your hair done and are heading back to the brownstone when you notice the dark SUV you spotted outside the mall had parked across the road and the occupant was crossing over to you. You play it off like you haven’t noticed, a civilian wouldn’t have and that’s who you are for the foreseeable future.

“Excuse me? Y/N” The stranger starts a conversation with you.

“Yes? You answer, turning to face the person who has spoken to you.

“I’m sorry, I work for someone your boyfriend is trying to get into business with and he’s asked me to check that you out.”

You chuckle, “Fiancé.” The stranger looks confused. “He’s my fiancé, not my boyfriend. Does Mr Vizzini think we haven’t done the same the same to him? Can’t be too careful these days, too many con men around, especially in New York.”

The stranger seems a little taken aback by your words, but continues, like his job is at stake. “I have a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind answering.”

You cross your arms over your chest and cock an eyebrow. “Okay?”

He takes a picture out of his jacket and asks. “Who is this man?”

The picture is of Sam Wilson, the Falcon but you answer, “That is Sam, James’s brother, adopted of course. “

“And how long have you been together?”

“Five years, engaged for one. Are we done here? I have to get ready for a party.” You say and turn to the steps of your brownstone, heading up to your front door.

“One more question.” You turn to face him again. “Can I use your bathroom?” You sigh and open the door, directing him the right way and stay in the hallway so he doesn’t sneak anywhere else for a snoop. You hear the cistern flush and the squeak of the faucet, but you also hear the sound of the medicine cabinet being opened. Yep, he’s snooping. A few moments later he steps out of the bathroom and thanks you as he leaves your house.

You head straight into the kitchen and start the coffee machine; you then grab a detector out of the kitchen drawer and head into the bathroom. Using it to detect for a bug, which you find in the cupboard under the sink and leave it there. You have a get out your phone and send a message, one you’ve prearranged with Bucky, telling him about the bug.

‘Can’t wait to see your reaction when you see what I have on under my dress (followed) tonight. You’re not gonna be able to keep your cool or your hands (Suspicious) to yourself’

‘New lingerie?” (Bug?)

‘Maybe (yes), but you’re gonna have to wait and see’

‘Can’t wait’ (Understood)

You’re gonna have to start your charade earlier than anticipated and act like a real couple. I suppose there are worse things in life than pretending to be in a relationship with Bucky. You can’t deny that the dude is hot.

You pretend to use the bathroom by slowly pouring a bottle of water in the toilet, flushing and washing your hands. Then you head back into the kitchen to pour yourself a coffee.

Bucky arrives home a short while later, carrying a bouquet of roses (Sam’s idea) and gives you a kiss. You feel a little twinge in your stomach, feeling his lips on yours. His kiss is light and sweet.

Feeling your lips on his sends a thrill through Bucky, the feelings he’s been trying to hide for years bubbling to the surface and he has to stop himself deepening the kiss.

“There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen babe, I’m going to start getting ready. No peeking!” You say and head upstairs.

Bucky stays downstairs to drink a coffee and makes a few phone calls, all in character of course, before heading upstairs to get into his tux which takes only a few minutes. He’s back in the living room in less than ten minutes, waiting for you join him.

Bucky isn’t downstairs for very long before he hears your heels on the upper landing and stands up to greet you but at seeing you, his breath hitches in his throat.

(This is the dress you wear)

“You’re fucking stunning!” Bucky breathes out, causing you to grin.

“Not too bad yourself James.” You reply as you walk down the stairs and take his outstretched hand.

You arrive at the house in the Hamptons, impressed with the size of the place, hanging on to Bucky’s arm. The size of it is really impressive and you live in Avengers Tower.

Bucky thinks that he must thank Natasha for picking out that dress. He can’t keep his eyes off of you, that dress hugs your curves in all the right places. Bucky knows he needs to remain professional, but he really wants to get his hands on you and bring you pleasure like you’ve never known. He won’t have any problem pretending to be your lover tonight, because that’s the only thing he wants.

The party is in full swing an hour later, you’ve mingled with everyone, hanging on Bucky’s arm, acting like he’s your entire world. And to him, you are his world. It’s not acting, he’s crazy about you and has been since you met.

Another forty-five minutes go by with the both of you all over each other, giving you a reason to sneak off at some point, to find the intel you’re there to get.

Bucky’s arm is around your waist, holding you close to him as you leave the “ballroom” where the party is. You’re acting the part really well, practically hanging off of him, hands wandering. Walking down the hallway, still all over each other, opening doors looking for a place to have some privacy. Some rooms are all occupied, but the one you’re looking for is empty, Vizzini’s office. As soon as you’re in the room and you part ways, straight back to business, heading for his desk and turning on his computer. Plugging a USB drive you take off of your bracelet into it, and copying the files.

“Heads up Buck, Carlo is on his way and he’s not alone.” Sam says over comms. The last file copies just in time, and you attach the USB back to the bracelet and walk back around the desk.

“Shit!” Bucky says. “We’re gonna get caught!”

Your brain works quickly, “I have an idea, but you have to trust me.” You say as you switch the computer off.

Bucky nods. “Okay.” You pull him over to the wall beside the door and lean against it. You reach up under your dress and remove your underwear, Bucky’s eyes bulge out of his head. You throw your panties in the vicinity of the desk and reach down to undo Bucky’s pants. “What are you doing?!” He asks.

“I told you to trust me, I’ll get us out of this.” You unbutton his slacks and bunch up your skirt a little. “Lift me.” You instruct. Bucky catches on and lifts you, so your legs are wrapped around his waist. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him close. “Go with it okay?” You say. Bucky gulps but nods and your lips meet in a searing kiss that makes you both moan out loud into each others' mouths. His hips begin to move instinctively, playing the part of a man who can’t keep his hands off of his girl. Bucky feels an usual sensation, kind of like a happiness he’s never felt before. As quick as he feels it, it goes away again.

You’re moaning loudly, alternating between passionate kisses and heavy breathing when Vizzini opens the door to his office and “catches” you, entering the room with two burly bodyguards. You gasp and fake panic.

“What the…?” He exclaims, his eyes bogging out of his head before he composes himself and continues. “This is my office, not a motel room!” You giggle. “This is not a laughing matter young lady, this is very inappropriate behaviour!” Bucky lifts you and places your heeled feet back on the floor and helps you rearrange your dress before tucking his shirt back into his slacks.

“We’re sorry Mr Vizzini, but when your girl looks like this, you have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself.” Bucky says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“But this is my office!” Vizzini says, exasperatedly.

“We’re sorry but other rooms were occupied!” You say with a smirk. Vizzini nods and the two bodyguards rush out of the room, they return moments later, both red faced.

Vizzini nods again and turns to you. “We will not mention this again and our meeting Tuesday will go ahead.” Vizzini says. Before sitting at his desk and making a choked sound. “I think these belong to you.” He says, pointing to the black lace panties that had landed on the keyboard of his computer. You giggle and retrieve them from his desk, biting your lip as you do.

“Sorry again!” You giggle as Bucky wraps his arm around you and leads you out of the office. You head back to the party, makes it seem less like obvious that you’re involved in espionage.

You both carry on playing the devoted couple, you’re hanging off of him like someone who can’t get enough of their man. Sneaking kisses here and there, selling the bit. Vizzini reappears a little while later and blushes when you and he make eye contact, you smirk back at him and pull Bucky in for a kiss. It’s after midnight by the time your car has pulled up outside and you’ve said your goodbyes.

You’re still all over each other as you get into the car, smiling and waving to everyone as the car pulls away. You keep the act up until you’re on your way out of the Hamptons and on the free way before you separate, in case you were followed. You stay close to each other just so you can snap back together quickly if you noticed someone watching you or for when you get back to the brownstone that is your “residence” at least until this mission is over.

You can smell Bucky’s cologne and it’s been invading your nostrils since you walked down the stairs before leaving in the early evening. It’s lingering on your skin from how you’ve been all over each other all night. You recognise it as Sauvage, one of your absolute favourites. You can’t remember Bucky ever wearing it before, he’s usually a Hugo Boss guy, which is another of your favourites. You momentarily let your control slip (not for the first time this evening) and imagine what it would be like, to have Bucky’s affections and let happiness bloom inside you, but you stop it as soon as you feel it reaching your face.

Bucky has put so much effort into hiding how he feels, he feels like he’s suffocating right now. He feels something again, like a happiness that he’s never felt before. But it disappeared as quickly as he feels it. The truth is drowning him and he needs to tell you how he feels, the thought actually terrifies him though. What if you reject him? What if you don’t feel the same way?

He needs to talk to Steve, find out how to approach this because he can’t lose you before he’s even had you. The car pulls up to your brownstone and you both get out, his arm around your shoulders as you head up the steps. “I need to go run a quick errand I’ll be back soon, wait up for me?” Bucky asks.

“Of course, baby, I’ll see you when you get back.” You reply with a kiss on the lips, smiling at him as you unlock the door and step inside, closing it behind yourself and leaning against the door with a sigh.

Bucky runs to the bodega on the corner and uses their pay phone, making sure that he’s concealed before dialling.

“Hello…?” Steve answers on the fourth ring, his voice scratchy with sleep.

“How do I tell her? After everything, what do I say?” Bucky’s words are rushed out, not even telling Steve that it’s him.

Steve lets out a sigh. “Buck, just say what you feel. Honestly is the best policy. She needs to know what you feel is real and not because of what you’re both living right now. Open up, I think she will be more open than you expect. I’m going back to sleep now.” Steve hangs up and Bucky is more determined than ever.

He grabs a bottle of wine and some other items so it looks like he had a legit reason to be in the bodega, pays and heads back to your brownstone.

He unlocks the door, you’re not in the living room when he gets back so he quickly takes off the jacket of his tux and goes into the kitchen and puts the items he bought away. Bucky rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up his arms, grabs two glasses and opens the wine then heads upstairs.

You’re in your bedroom, you’ve taken off your dress and are wearing a short black silk robe. He walks in with the wine and goes to speak but the words die in his throat. He takes a deep breath and closes the door, you raise an eyebrow but take one of the wine glasses off of him as he pours the red wine into it. He pours his own, puts the bottle down and takes a big gulp from his glass.

“We need to talk.” The words rush out with his breath.

“About what?” You reply.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky says, looking straight in your eyes. “I act like I don’t trust you because it’s easier than admitting the truth, but the truth is what you deserve so here goes…” You look at him expectantly. Bucky takes another deep breath before he continues. “I like you and I have since we met, and it scared me because I’ve never caught feelings that quickly before. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever caught feelings like I have for you, with anyone. I think I…” he stops himself.

“You think you what?” You nudge.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

You look into his eyes and the cerulean blue shows nothing but sincerity. He means it. He loves you. You contemplate telling him how you feel but actions speak louder than words.

You walk to Bucky, standing in front of him. You lick your lips he looks into your eyes, searching for hesitation and finding none. He reaches out for you, his hand grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you closer. His lips brush yours and your breath hitches in your throat. You look into each others eyes and you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him closer and planting a firm kiss on his lips.

Your lips feel like they were made to kiss his, they slot together perfectly, like two halves of a whole. He sighs contentedly as your lips open to allow his tongue access, your tongues dance together, caressing each other as your bodies get even closer.

Something snaps in Bucky and he pulls you towards him, walking backwards until he’s against the wall. He spins you around and pushes you against the wall, breaking the kiss and leaving you panting for breath.

“I need you to say that you want this, please say you want this. I can’t bear one more moment without touching you.” Bucky says breathlessly.

“I want it, I want you.” You say and reach out for him again. He kisses you sweetly, pulls back and sinks to his knees. He plants a kiss on the inside of your knee which makes you shudder. “Fuck!” You moan out as his mouth kisses up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your centre. Bucky lifts your robe and groans out loud, noticing that you never replaced the underwear you removed in Vizzini’s office. He grabs your knee and lifts your leg, hooking it over his shoulder and moving his mouth to your mound, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. “Holy shit!!” You moan out and grab Bucky’s head with one hand and scratching at the wall with the other.

Bucky groans at your taste and begins to practically make out with your pussy, his eyes glassed over as your juices drip down his chin. His uses two fingers on his flesh hand and teases your hole, gathering your slick until he can sink them into you, straight to the knuckle. He’s eating you with such fierce ferocity and fucking you with his fingers so passionately that your orgasm builds quickly. “I’m not gonna last much longer.. I’m gonna…” a long moan escapes your lips as your orgasm washes over you. You shudder and shake, struggling to breathe as you ride the waves of your climax, your cunt pulsating around his fingers.

Bucky’s oral ministrations slow as your orgasm dies down, and your breathing returns to normal. He removes his fingers and your leg from his shoulder, stands and unbuttons his shirt before removing it and using it to wipe his face. He stands there in a white vest, his face flushed and looks at you adoringly. Bucky undoes your robe and lets it fall off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bra. You reach out and undo his pants, pushing them down leaving him in just a pair of black boxers. You can see his erection straining the fabric, you want nothing more than to take what you can tell is an impressive member out of his underwear and show him how good your head game is. Bucky however has other ideas.

“Take off the bra, please. I need to see all of you.” He says, his eyes still glassy. You oblige and he groans out loud, he steps forward and pushes you against the wall again. He takes your left breast in his hand and massages gently, causing you to arch into him. He lowers his head and takes your nipple in his mouth, circling the tight bud with his tongue. Bucky stops and plants a searing kiss on your mouth, it’s sloppy, full of teeth and tongues. He pushes his underwear down as you’re kissing, depriving your view.

You still don’t get a glimpse as he grabs your ass and lifts you, your legs automatically going around his waist as you continue your assault on each others' mouths, it’s like you can’t get enough. Bucky breaks off the kiss as he looks into your eyes, the both of you are heavy breathing already. “Ready?” He asks, you nod. “Words baby.”

“Yes please!” You feel the head of his cock against your entrance, gathering as much of your creamy slick as he can. Before notching inside you, your eyes roll back in your head as he slides into your wet cunt, painstakingly slowly. He wants you to feel every inch, every vein, the way he throbs for you. Once he bottoms out in you, you release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your arms are around Bucky’s shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. You’ve never felt so full, so… complete. There’s a slight sting and burn, you can only assume but there’s a very good chance that he’s big and girthy.

Bucky plants a kiss on your lips before he begins to move, sliding out of you, almost completely before sinking into you again. The air is knocked from your lungs, you feel amazing as his cock slides in and out of you at an agonisingly slow pace. You moan out loud at the sensation.

“Faster!” You groan out, frustrated at how slow he’s fucking you.

“All in good time, I need to feel you.” Bucky moans out, but pretty soon he can’t just revel in the feeling. He needs to move faster, chasing his end. His hips snap up quicker and your moaning increases in volume, that heat in your belly building again with each thrust of his hips.

Bucky takes your mouth again, kissing you with all of him as he fucks into you with abandon. Your moans and tongues intertwined, your heavy breathing entering each others' mouths. Your hands carding through Bucky’s hair, tugging gently on the strands at the nape of his neck. Each time you do it makes his hips thrust harder and makes him grunt. But you have to stop after a minute as the heat blooming in your belly expands more until it can go no further.

It snaps and blooms upward and downward, sending heat to your toes and making you see white. Your climax makes your head roll back and you let out a scream of pleasure. There’s a new sensation as your orgasm hits, the feeling of white-hot heat spreading through him. Happiness, love, every positive feeling ever shoots through him and the spasms of your cunt around his cock, prematurely sets off his orgasm. He has wanted to draw another two or three from you before his end but he can’t hold it back.

He roars out, even the way your climax muffled your hearing you heard him. You’ve never heard anything like that, the sound was primal, animalistic. Your breathing slows and you lower your head to look at him, he’s staring back at you, looking completely fucked out, but so do you.

“You okay baby?” Bucky asks, breathing heavily and pulling your face towards him so he can kiss you. You can’t even speak, you just about nod before he lifts you off the wall and carries you over to the bed. He lays you down and pulls his semi-hard cock out of you, which makes you whine. He goes into your en suite and grabs a washcloth to clean you up, before joining you on the bed. He pulls you close and you snuggle into his warm body, your hand rests on his chest, just above his heart.

Happiness blooms in his chest once more, a content feeling. He realises that you’re projecting onto him with your abilities but you’re too out of it to realise. The feeling is one of pureness, a feeling of love. Bucky realises he has had this feeling before, many times, the first time was the day he met you. He really did feel love at first sight, he didn’t think it was possible but it happened. And now you both knew how the other felt, there’s no way he was going to go back to the way it was. And you’re not leaving SHIELD. Not unless he leaves with you, because from now on, you are one.

THE END?

Posted 23/04/2024

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #ladymunson #Bucky Barnes x female reader #18+ only

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