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#that was the job I still have a scar on my arm from
penguinbuttcheeks · 2 days
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Power - König x reader
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summary: you’re a combat medic tending to könig’s wounds. könig can see the strength beneath the timid surface of your personality and decides to take the lead in helping you embrace it.
pairing: könig x medic!reader
cw: smut (MDNI!!), dominant könig, soft könig, afab anatomy (reader), fingering
word count: 2,378
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as an afab person, i’ll probably be writing most smut (unless drabbles) with afab anatomy.
i don’t have the experience, nor knowledge to write mlm fics with amab anatomy and don’t want to contribute to harmful stereotypes due to my lack of knowledge- so any smut will be non specified on anatomy or female.
ALSO !! never written smut before this is SO out of my comfort zone lord help me
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Gentle strokes and tender fingertips graze along the scarred flesh of König’s arm, steady in their movement, precise and confident.
It’s unusual that the giant before you was in your office to begin with, rarely allowing the medics to tend to his wounds. It was something that König usually cared for himself, preferring to rely on his own skill rather than the help of those around him.
It was just his luck that the wound requiring stitches was so awkwardly placed - the back of his bicep - too out of reach for his own hands to tend to.
You stood at his side, finishing the last remaining stitches while he sat silently in his chair, barely flinching each time the needle pierced through his flesh.
König's breath catches in his throat at your tender ministrations, the gentle caress of your fingers sending a shiver down his spine. He found himself captivated, his piercing gaze fixed on your face as you tended to his wound with such care.
"You have a... gentle touch," he murmured, the tender words sounding unfamiliar on his lips. Clearing his throat, he shifted slightly in the chair, his eyes darting away as if suddenly self-conscious. "Not what I expected from a field medic." Comes his now gruff voice.
You chuckle quietly, shoulders shaking ever so slightly.
“My hands were never made to bore blood. I’m much better with a stethoscope than I am a gun, though I admire the skill you possess on the field.” You explain softly, voice hushed as you focus on the task at hand.
“It’s something that I’ll never become quite as good at compared to my medical skills” you continue, voice still low in concentration as you finally tie the finishing knot to his stitching, turning to grab some medical gauze to begin wrapping it up.
König's brow furrows slightly under his sniper hood as he listened to your words, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his features.
"Ja, well..." he rumbled, his gaze falling to your hands as you began wrapping the gauze around his arm. "Different skills are needed for different tasks."
His eyes lingered on you for a moment, something almost akin to admiration in his expression. "But yours are just as valuable, medic." The gruff edges of his voice seemed to soften ever so slightly.
You pause momentarily, looking up at him before offering him a kind smile.
“Thank you” you thank appreciatively. “A lot of the time we get overshadowed. We may not have as intense a job as the soldiers, but we’re just as important. We tend to get forgotten in this line of work” you tell him truthfully. “It’s nice to hear that from time to time” you grin, stepping back to let König rise from his seat.
“You’re free to go now- I’m all done” you inform him, handing him a small capsule of medication.
“Take these if you start to feel any pain from your wound” are your final instructions before he silently leaves, nothing but a curt nod of appreciation sent your way.
The next time you see König is on your way to the KorTac mess hall a few days later.
You catch sight of the man as you see him walking in the other direction.
“Colonel König!” You call out to grab his attention, jogging to catch up with him. “How’s the arm?” you ask kindly, peering over at the bandaged area.
König paused mid-stride, his broad shoulders tensing ever so slightly at the sound of your voice. For a moment, he considered simply continuing on, but something in your tone gave him pause.
Turning to face you, he regarded you with a guarded expression, his piercing blue eyes sweeping over your form.
"It's healing," he rumbled, his voice low and gruff. Glancing down at the bandaged limb, his brow furrowed ever so slightly. "The stitches are holding." There was a hint of begrudging...appreciation in his tone.
You nod, a smile on your face at the news.
“I’m glad. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to check over it sometime to replace the bandaging and ensure that it’s healing well” you inform him, asking for permission to do so.
König felt an unfamiliar twinge in his chest at the warmth in your tone, your concern for his wellbeing catching him off guard. He cleared his throat, gaze shifting away momentarily.
"Ja, that would be...acceptable," he mumbled, the words sounding almost reluctant.
The hesitance in his voice makes you feel slightly uncertain in yourself, as if you’re overstepping a boundary that you shouldn’t be with the colonel.
You nod, giving him a tight smile.
“I’ll stop by sometime this evening when you’re not busy” you tell him, sending him a small nod.
König's eyes narrowed slightly at your reaction, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face.
"As you wish, medic," he rumbled, his tone layered with a subtlety that belied his true nature.
Turning on his heel, he strode away, his steps purposeful and his bearing commanding, but as he walked there was a slight tension in his shoulders - one that had not been there before.
That evening, as promised, you made your way to König's quarters. The door swung open at your approach, revealing the imposing figure of the Austrian colonel. He stood there silently, his piercing gaze sweeping over you, sizing you up.
You’re startled slightly when König opens the door, neck craning as you lift your head to meet his gaze, his imposing figure towering over your much shorter one.
"Come in," he said gruffly, stepping aside to allow you entrance.
You step inside timidly while König closes the door behind him.
Unlike the other soldiers who were assigned to shared bunks, König was given a private room, his sleeping quarters merged with his office. A private luxury given to those of high status within KorTac.
König's leering gaze swept over you as you stepped into his private quarters, his eyes narrowing slightly. There was an intensity to his stare that was almost unnerving, as if he were silently assessing you.
"Sit," he commanded, gesturing towards a sturdy chair positioned near his desk. His tone left no room for argument.
Moving to comply, you couldn't help but notice the subtle interplay of muscle beneath the tight confines of his uniform. There was an undeniable power and grace to his movements that was both intimidating and oddly captivating.
"Well, Medic," he rumbled, his voice low and tinged with an undercurrent of something you couldn't quite place. "Let's see if your handiwork has held up."
As you settled into the chair, König moved to stand before you, his towering frame casting a shadow over your form. Wordlessly, he began to unwrap the bandage on his arm, exposing the angry red sutures that you had so carefully tended to the previous day.
König's eyes narrowed slightly as he scrutinized the wound, his weathered fingers gently probing the area. A low hum rumbled in his throat as he examined your handiwork.
"Hmm, not bad," he acknowledged almost begrudgingly, his gaze flickering to meet yours. There was a faint gleam of what might have been approval in his steel-blue eyes.
He swiftly sits down across from you. Leaning back in his chair, he regarded you in silence for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
He watches as you retrieve your small medical pack, gathering the materials you needed to redress the wound and sanitise it thoroughly.
"Tell me, Medic," he murmured, his voice low and rough-edged. "What else other than medicine have you learned in your time with Kortac?"
You stand, walking over to him to inspect the wound yourself, once again finding yourself in the same position a few days before in your medical room.
“I’ve seen you in training. I’ve learnt not to get on your bad side” you muse light heartedly, earning a quirked brow of amusement from König - not that you would have been able to see underneath the fabric of his mask.
“Ah, so you’ve learned that much at least” he rumbles, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. He continues to study you as you clean and dress his wound, silent gaze penetrating and unwavering. “And what else have you learned?” he presses, his tone low and almost…. Curious. “About yourself perhaps?”
His fingers drum against the arm oh his chair, the motion betraying a hint of restlessness. “Working with KorTac is no easy feat. It takes a… Certain kind of person to thrive here”
You nod in agreement, fingers gently brushing over his skin as you finish cleaning the wound, reaching for the fresh gauze to wrap it again.
“It is.” You quietly agree, eyes never leaving your hands as you continue your ministrations. “I realise now that my role as a medic is much better suited to me than that of a soldier. I found it challenging to be the one causing the destruction rather than healing it.” You confess honestly.
König’s eyes narrow as he listens to your confession, an unreadable glint flashing in his eyes.
“Is that so?” He murmurs, voice low and contemplative. Leaning forward in his chair, he studies you intently, now finished with his redressing and packing away your materials at his desk. “What is it you find so… Challenging about destruction?”
His finger trace the edge of his bandaging that you had so carefully wrapped around his arm, the touch almost deliberately sensual.
“Perhaps you haven’t found the right motivation.”
You pause, eyes watching carefully as his large finger traces the white gauze.
“I’m not sure I could ever find the motivation to encourage causing harm” you confess slowly, gaze never leaving his subtle movements as he fidgets with the dressing of his wound.
“Is that so?” He responds, a hint of challenge in his tone. Slowly, he rose from his chair, towering over you as he moved to loom over your smaller frame. “Perhaps I could show you” he breathes, face mere inches from yours.
Your eyes widen ever so slightly, stepping back as König raises to his full height.
The intensity of his gaze was overwhelming.
“What it truly means to be strong… To be powerful.” His large hand reaches out to trace the outline of your jaw, mimicking what he had just done with his freshly dressed wound.
“Show me how to be strong?” You repeat unsurely, wide eyes looking up at him with uncertainty.
König’s lips curl in to a predatory smile, his finger grazing your cheek once more.
“Ja, mein kleine” he purrs, voice low and soothing. “Let me show you the true meaning of strength.” His fingers move from your jaw, thick finger grasping at your chin, tightening ever so slightly.
“Power is not something to be feared liebling,” he hums, eyes scanning over your face to gauge your reaction. “It is something to be embraced… To be wielded”. Leaning in closer, he fixes you with an unwavering stare, gluing you in place where you stand. “I can teach you how to do that” His gaze drops down to your lips momentarily before flickering back up to meet your eyes. “If you’ll let me.”
That’s how you found yourself in your current situation, sat atop König’s waist - straddling him. Your legs rest on either side of his large body, his hungry eyes sweeping over your thighs that tremble, clenching down against his hips, his fingers buried deep inside you.
He curls them with deadly precision, making you cry out as you continue to ride his fingers.
“That’s it, mein süße" he purrs, low and rough. “Take what you need”
His thumb circles your sensitive nub, slow, agonising strokes, his piercing gaze locked on your face - watching intently for your every reaction.
“Show me how you pleasure yourself” he commands, voice thick with dark promise.
You whimper and mewl, hands planted flat against his chest for support, an embarrassed flush creeping up your neck and darkening your already red face.
You gasp and shudder increasing your tempo as you slowly gain confidence, slowly find a rhythm.
His thumb presses harder against your clit, rough, callous padded fingers sending delicious jolts of pleasure through your body.
“Don’t hold back” he commands. “I want to hear every shameless cry.”
You lower your head, eyes clenching shut as you continue to fuck yourself on his fingers, strangled cries breaching your lips as you allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure.
König’s eyes gleam with delight, his hand gripping at your hip tightly to guide your movements.
“Louder.”
You let out a sob, gummy walls clenching around his thick fingers as you near your climax. König’s expression darkens with savage delight as he watches you unravel above him, your desperate cries music to his ears.
His hand on your hip surges upwards, gripping your chin and raising your head to look at him, pupils blown wide and eyes half lidded.
“Look at me, mein süße"
“I want to see the ecstasy on your face as you come undone.”
Like an obedient dog at his command, you lose yourself in the pleasure of his touch and the warmth of his gaze. Your hips buck forward with each desperate thrust, tears of pleasure building behind your eyes and lips parted.
You look so beautiful unravelling above him.
Legs quivering and walls gripping König’s fingers buried deep inside your cunt, your orgasm washes over you. You moan loudly, arms trembling under your weight as you struggle to keep yourself upright, König’s fingers continuing to coax you through your release.
“That’s it, maus.”
“Let it all go.”
You’re panting heavily, body shaking as you open your eyes to meet König again.
There’s an unmissable glint of approval in the colonel’s eyes, drinking in the sight of your dishevelled form atop his lap.
He could get used to this.
Slowly, you lower yourself, laying yourself down- your chest pressed up against his.
He withdraws his fingers carefully, cautious to not overstimulate you further and bringing them up to his lips. A rumbling purr of satisfaction escapes his lips as he tastes you, savouring the flavour.
“You taste divine” he purrs, gaze still hungry and predatory.
“I think I shall have another helping…”
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star-anise · 25 days
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It's been a hot minute since I looked at Canada's National Occupation Classification system. I learned about it when studying career counselling in grad school, and it's pretty useful in terms of job-hunting and getting information on what different types of jobs require and pay.
A friend asked me for advice about becoming a therapist so I went and looked. They redid it since I last visited, and oh man there are some chef's kiss decisions.
There are 9 top-level categories, with 1 being legislative and senior management, 5 being arts, culture, and sport, and 9 being manufacture and utilities. So I was looking for my old job's classification, which used to be 4153 - Family, marriage and other related counsellors. Knowing that made searching the government job bank really easy back in the day, because instead of searching "counsellor" "counselor" "psychotherapist" "mental health therapist" "clinical counsellor" etc etc etc to find them all, I just typed "4153" and hit enter.
Anyway, they redid the system and now that job is parked at 41301 - Therapists in counselling and related specialized therapies. Here's the tree to get there:
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Cool cool cool. It's tidier, even if the occupations are still a bit messy. (When I dropped out of the field, the different counselling subdivisions were tapping their toes impatiently waiting for the provincial government to let them form their own professional regulatory college. Which still has not happened. Last week my shrink said he'd got an email from the College of Psychologists announcing that it would be gathering all the smaller counselling fields into its own downy breast instead. I have no idea what's happening anymore.)
Anyway. I scrolled down to another job I once worked and HAHA WHAT
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Yes. There are only three sub-units of category 44:
Nannies:
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In-home caregivers:
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And,
Combat specialists
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I find this grouping of professions hilarious, appropriate, and deeply validating. No notes. 🧑‍🍳👌💋
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postmortemnivis · 2 months
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no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.
simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.
that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?
he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.
it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.
he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.
the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.
your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.
he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.
‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’
the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.
“promise me something?”
“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”
“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”
he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.
“yes.”
“promise.” you urged. “please.”
he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”
you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”
“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”
he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.
fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.
his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.
“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.
he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.
he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.
he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.
he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.
“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”
“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.
“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”
“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”
“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”
“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.
“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.
“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.
simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”
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shotmrmiller · 2 months
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tw: mentions of roofies, murder, then smut:)
cbf!simon would absolutely kill for you.
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cbf!simon has always been your partner in crime.
even in your youth, back when he was built like a daffodil, he was always by your side. kept you safe from the mean girls at school, always got in trouble for throwing hands at boys who made crass comments at you and the like. then he'd left his butcher job to join the military. "I gotta learn how to keep you safe, love. i'll always come back to ya."
and he had. he returned to you almost four times his size; he left a boy and came back a man. down to your very bones, you knew that he would always keep you safe.
which is why he was the first person you called when the guy next to you at the bar roofied your drink. the beer fizzed irregularly and had an almost milky colour even though it was an ipa.
the idiot had dared to smile at you, an oily, crooked grin with yellow teeth, and lifted his own glass to toast with you.
you bolted out of your seat in seconds, heading straight to the ladies' room, and dialed.
he answered on the second ring.
"please come get me." you hadn't meant to sound as terrified as you felt.
"be there in 5," then hung up.
he lived 15 minutes away from the dingy bar.
true to his word, he was there in 5, texting where you were at.
inside the ladies bathroom.
he let himself in, put his jacket around your quivering shoulders, and with a strong, comforting arm, guided you toward the exit and into his truck. simon remained silent as he sat you in the passenger seat, gently pulling the seatbelt over your chest, clicking it into place.
he stood next to you, his hands resting on your jean-clad thighs, waiting patiently for you to explain.
your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you sort out your thoughts. you no longer felt afraid, that much was certain. simon has always been your pillar of strength. there was nothing to fear with him at your side.
so why do your hands continue to tremble? digging deeper, you realize that you're angry. no.
furious.
some imbecile thought he'd take advantage of you. if you'd been any more drunk, you would have been a victim— wound up lifeless in a dirty ditch.
you burned with fury, your blood boiling under your skin. how dare he? how dare he?
simon softly touches your tightly clenched hands, coaxing your fingers to unfurl.
everything pulls hard to port when your eyes land on his disfigured knuckles— scarred by battle. you've never liked what simon did for a living. he just fought and killed people that some higher-up told him were the bad guys.
in war, there is no good or bad side. the field is too soaked in blood for anyone to recognize where the line is if there even was one to begin with.
until now. just this once, you couldn't be more grateful that simon possesses the skills he does.
you make your decision. "there was a guy in there. green hat, ugly brown jacket with yellow, crooked teeth. he drugged my beer, then toasted me so i would drink it."
his hands tighten around yours marginally. "and now i'm here, safe, with you. but he's still in there, with potentially a pocket full of pills, on the lookout for his next victim. how am i supposed to sleep tonight, knowing that if someone goes missing tonight, the blood will be on my hands?"
you cut your eyes to his dark, hardened ones, and the words tumble out of your mouth with surprising ease.
"there's trash in there that needs throwing out, simon."
nothing but a wretched mongrel that needs to be put down.
simon's nod is subtle, but it's there. you exhale a shuddering breath, heart slamming against your ribcage.
he's a gun in your hand, and you've just pulled the trigger.
simon hands you the keys to the truck. "are you sober enough to drive home?" he quietly asks.
hard to keep a buzz when you almost became a victim of—
"yes."
he's opening the glove compartment, taking out his skeleton gloves, and a tac knife that he tucks inside the waistband of his jeans.
"go home. i'll see ya in a bit." his voice is flat, lifeless.
simon closes the door and raps his knuckles on the hood of the truck before heading inside.
and so the elephant marches to war.
-
it's well past midnight when he crawls in through your window. one moment his boots are on the windowsill, the next he's pinning you onto your mattress, hips flush against yours.
his chilly, clean hands lift the hem of your loose shirt, dimpling the soft skin that his fingers dig into— his bare lips grazing the shell of your ear.
"he is no longer a problem."
he grinds his clothed erection against the flimsy fabric of your sleeping shorts.
"you did the right thing by telling me what he did."
simon trails a path of open-mouthed kisses from your ear down to your mouth, licking your bottom lip.
"nothing gets me harder than when my girl looks at me to keep her safe."
your breath hitches when a hand begins to move south, lifting the waistband of your bottoms and sliding his fingers over your slick pussy. "it seems you like it too. does it turn you on, ordering me around like a dog? i bark at your command, pet."
one finger sinks into your wet heat, his groan drowning out your own.
"you like having this much power over me? how easily i bend to your will?" he croons.
there are two fingers in you now, so much thicker than your own, and the way they curl and drag along your nerves has your toes tingling. he takes you to the precipice at frightening speed— the expert hands that kill without remorse are the same ones that are bringing you your pleasure.
he thrusts his fingers into you with an obscene squelch and a thumb circles your slippery clit.
"i'd burn the world to ashes if you asked it of me."
the coil in your stomach is tight, your body tense in anticipation.
"so... would you? would you ask me to bring the world to its very knees?"
the answer sits on the tip of your tongue when you climax around his fingers, walls pulsing rhythmically, arousal dripping from his knuckles.
later will be a good time to reflect on how you don't feel even remotely guilty for what's been done.
for now, you focus on how good simon feels as he slowly sinks into you, splitting you wide open with his heavy cock.
-
simon finds no pills in the guy's pockets. no baggie, no bottle.
nothing.
shame that his little love has declared the guy's life forfeit.
your wish is his command.
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mother-above · 2 months
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I'm Not The One For You
Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel has been stressed at work and decided to hit the bars with his brothers. He gets so drunk that he may have forgotten what his love looks like
Warnings: fluffy with some spicy implications
WC: 1.1k
*masterlist*
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a/n: I've been writing some heavy things and needed a break. I hope yall enjoy this short fluffy piece! xx
The sound of heels clicking on cobblestone joined the myriad of sounds along the Sidra. The city was lively, and all types of music and chatter filled the crisp air in Velaris. As you got closer, the bass at Rita's was getting louder. You, Morrigan, Amren, and the Archeron sisters were glowing from the spa's lavender-scented oil and dressed to the nines. After an afternoon of well-deserved pampering and last-minute shopping, it was time to meet with the boys.
You were wearing a dark blue mini dress, the material sparkled and reflected light with every movement of your body. The black strappy heels matched with your manicure and pedicure.
You were vibrant and ready for the night out with your mate and friends. Work had been tiring, especially when it was your job to organize military exercises with other Courts armies.
Excited to step into the bar, you grinned as the music vibrated all around you. Scanning the dance floor, your grin spreads when you see your blue-siphoned mate absolutely smashed and tearing it up on the dance floor with his brothers and other partygoers. Happy to see him relaxed, you go over to the bar to order yourself a drink before joining Azriel.
Despite being known as the “quiet one,” Azriel loved to dance and party occasionally. Work had been stressful lately, so he let loose and drank to his heart's content. Females and males were coming up to him all night asking to dance with him, but he refused, and if they got insistent, he’d give them the “sorry, you’re lovely but I’m married” speech. Everyone was always respectful and backed away, after all, he was the Shadowsinger.
It wasn’t even late but admittedly, Azriel drank too much, and his wild erratic dancing proved the point. His brothers and family teased him from afar, even Elain was poking fun at the drunken shadowsinger. In the corner of his eye, a female in a short blue sparkly dress approached him. Smelling like lavender, the female slid an arm around his waist and pressed her body against his.
You were about to bop to the beat of the music when Azriel stopped dancing and ripped himself away from you. The movement was so sudden, that the cocktail in your hand splashed droplets on the floor.
“Az? What’s wrong?” you asked wide-eyed.
“S-sorry, I’m taken. I’m just waiting for my wife,” he slurred as he deliberately turned away from you and started dancing again.
Startled, you looked at Cas, Rhys, and the girls and you burst out laughing. You pointed an accusatory finger toward the Illyrians.
“He doesn’t even recognize me! I can’t believe he’s shit-faced this early!” you weren’t mad at the boys, just highly amused.
Tapping Azriel on the shoulder, he turned, and you gave him your most dazzling smile. “I haven’t seen you all day and this is how you greet me? I’ve been wanting to dance with you, love.”
His eyes run down your body appreciatively, his gaze slowing around your thighs, he’s always loved your thighs. You gave him an encouraging nod, but he was still clueless.
Bringing up his left hand, he shows you the golden band around his ring finger. “I told you I’m married, see? She also happens to be my mate.”
You stifled a giggle and stepped closer to him. Surely, he would recognize your scent, right? You grabbed his hand and let your fingers trace the scars, he loved it when you did that.
In complete shock, he snatched his hand away after a few seconds.
“Look, you’re beautiful but I’m not the one for you. I would walk away before my mate gets here. She’s Night Court’s best warrior and I’m afraid she won’t let you get away with you bothering me so much,” said Azriel, his lips pressed into a line.
You started laughing, your handsome mate was so loyal. You can’t believe he would have sic’d you to flirty females. His family, who were listening to the whole thing, was snickering as well. Rhysand pinched his nose highly regretting pre-gaming at the townhouse, at the time it was a great idea.
Azriel squinted at his family when he realized they were laughing at him. “What?!”
Rhysand clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Brother, you’re so drunk that you don’t even recognize your own mate!”
Azriel’s eyes furrowed as he looked at your beautiful twinkling face, your lips forming into a smirk. Azriel tugged on the bond three times, and after a short beat, you tugged the bond four times. It was something the two of you did, the first person tugged three times and the four tugs meant that the second person loved them more. Clarity burst through his intoxication and when he realized, he tipped his head back in laughter.
Moving closer to you, he pressed his lips onto your temple and murmured an apology against your skin, this was the last time he was going to drink this much. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he placed a hand on your waist and the other on your bum. You turned to place a kiss on his cheek and then his lips.
He squeezed your body, and you pressed your lips on him again. “Why do you smell like lavender? No wonder I didn’t recognize you, I hate lavender!”
“That’s the oil they used on our massage today,” you said. A slower song was playing so you swayed with Azriel. He held you tight as you gazed into his eyes, melting at the sight of the brown and greens melting together.
After a few more hours of partying, it was time for you and Azriel to go home. Smelling of sweat, booze, and lavender oil, the both of you opted to bathe together.
You relaxed and laid on Azriel's chest as he took the loofah and scrubbed your skin. He said he wanted you to smell like yourself again and insisted that the bath water was to be changed for the two of you to properly soak. Now that the suds smelled of your favorite soap, he pulled you against him and he closed his eyes.
“Az?”
“Yes, love?”
“I’m really happy to know that even when you’re shit-faced, you won’t ever cheat on me.”
A growl rumbled in his chest, his hand splayed across your stomach and held you tighter. “Why would I do that when I’ve got the most perfect person in the world in my arms?”
You blushed; he always knew how to make you feel loved. Turning around to straddle him, you bent down to capture his lips. Who were you to question his logic?
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heartfullofleeches · 9 months
Text
Yan arena beasts/fighters + handler reader. Reader is an average human working at a zoo/shelters abducted and thrown into a life of caring for a galactic tyrant's playthings due to their experience with animals. Not an idea choice for the job, but with everyone who's had the job before being maimed, killed, or worse they were running out of options. Reader does the best with what they're given. They find solitude with the other captives to an extent and some of the more feral creatures remind them of stray cats and dogs they knew back home. They treat those who allow as those same poor creatures out of habit and to cope with their new life. Others are so aggressive they have to be blindfold and sedated to even get close. Reader still tries to comfort them despite the many scratches and bites they receive
A little mix up happens where a warrior meant to fight the big bad of the area had already been slain by the beast. With no alternative, reader gets sent out instead as sacrifice to appease the blood hungry masses. They cower in the corner as the beast's mask is removed, praying their battered body at least gets shipped home so they have a proper burial and their family has some clue to what happened to them. They cast their small dagger away still unable to defend themselves against what they only see as a frightened animal protecting its own skin. The beast lifts them off the ground like a ragdoll holding them high for the crowd to see as its fangs draw from its scarred lips - breaking the band around its wrist that would seal reader's victory.
The beast ties the rope around reader's neck as the announcer declares them victor by default. The crowd boos, but as the beast snaps the neck of one of the guards and throws the limb body into the arena their demands are met. Reader quakes from the sheer disbelief of the whole ordeal, and still being trapped in the beast's arms as it coos. It takes over a dozen guards to get them to separate the two. They try again with another beast reader has care for and the same thing happens. Watching the live footage closely it's clear to experts the skilled fighters allow themselves to get injured to be coddled and tended to by reader. When rations are given they try to feed reader a share of their meals. The number of casualties skyrocket when reader's taken away or new caretakers are introduced. The beasts demand their head pats and ear scratches for their winnings and they want it from one source alone.
-
The emperor is quite amused by this revelation. It perfectly masks his paranoia in the case of his pets rising against him for whatever reason and choosing the earthling as their new overlord which few have spoken of in whispers. He's torn between killing them to null his fears and befriending them to puppeteer his pets craftfully from the shadows. He decides on the latter since getting rid of them would only anger his pets. That and it would be so easy to trick the human with his charms. Few can resist the words and body of a king, after all.
"Y/n, darling, it's so good to see you! So glad you could make it. How have things been, hm?"
"I'd like to go home, please."
"Hahaha! Oh, you're so cute with your little jokes! You may enjoy your meal in due time, but I have a favor to ask of you from a friend to a king. In the case of I don't know - my pets slaughtering my entire legion and storming my castle walls to behead me and crown you ruler - would you pretty please ask them to - not do that?"
"That....sounds like it would be out of my hands."
"Right. Changing subject, you are aware I have been topless this whole conversation and my bed is right behind me. Why haven't you attempted to have your way with me by now? Not saying you could - but you can always try."
The emperor upgrades their room to one right next to his, but they hardly sleep there favoring their time caring for the others and because they'd rather stay there than see him in a state of undress on their mattress. The emperor mimics the cooing that gets wounded beasts extra smothering from their handler, but reader mostly ignores him. He grows jealous seeing them fast asleep in a cell kept warm by the body heat of the battle scarred creatures around them. He's been scarred by attempted assassinations in the past - why doesn't he get cuddles too? Combats this jealously by making a royal decree that reader has to sit with him during every battle and on his lap if they wish to stay out of his sight afterwards. Requests for reader's fredom and hand in marriage and when a champion is chosen are banned almost immediately.
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pray4byron · 2 months
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hi, I hope you’re having a good day, I’d love to leave a request for Hazbin Hotel.
Could I request Alastor, Angel Dust, Lucifer, Vox and Lucifer (feel free not to do them all if they’re too many) and how they would react when their s/o finds them crying and comforts them and gives them a hug? I’d love some reverse comfort for them they’re my favs, also gn reader pls!
hello!! i’m having a good day, i hope you are as well!! this was a very interesting concept to think about, especially for alastor haha, it may be a bit out of character but i tried my best lol
Warnings: Potentially OOC Alastor, S1 Finale Spoilers, Swear Words, Mentions of Valentino, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Mentions of Injury (Scars, Bruises, Blood, Ect), Mentions of Depression, Mentions of Sex (No Smut)
Alastor, Angel Dust, Lucifer, Vox x Reader (Reverse Comfort)
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Alastor
Alastor wasn’t one to express much emotion - other than his signature smile, let alone cry, but you caught him - even if it was barely
He felt like he was on the edge of pure insanity and psychotic, and he, the almighty Radio Demon, would’ve never expected something so little to give him his final push
After the fight between Adam and Alastor, he had lost his cane, his cane gave him almost every ounce of power and control his soul had gained since entering Hell, and he was going insane without it
You watched Alastor silently drift away from the crowded hotel lobby after Lucifer made some petty comment about losing his staff.
Despite that small part of you trying to convince you against it, you followed him.
You trickled behind him slowly to his room, all the way on the other side of the hotel.
He left his door open a crack, and you opened it slightly and stood in the doorway, and there he was.
Alastor’s usually neat and tidy hotel room was now a disaster with blueprints on the floor, you took a glance at them, some looking relatively old and some looked quite fresh, they were sketches and plans for a new staff - although you knew Alastor no longer had the magic the make it.
You hid as he came into your view, he was pacing the room, a very strained smile present on his face as tears pricked in his eyes, as he ran his fingers through his hair, tossing around blueprints and plans and other papers that seemed to be plans for a new staff, searching for a solution to his despair.
Slowly, you approached Alastor, patting him on the back softly before retracting your hand, remembering he doesn’t like to be touched.
He shook his head and sighed, the same drained smile was still present on his face, he looked down at you, and you never noticed the bags under his eyes until now… I mean, you knew he wasn’t one to typically sleep, but he never had bags before…
“I’m sorry, my dear.” He said, fixing his posture, and straightening up his suit. “One might say I’m a bit distraught at the moment. What is it you need?”
“Well.. uh, Al, you looked a bit sad recently, especially after what Lucifer said about your cane, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” You said, providing a bashful smile, at the fact that you’d be caught snooping.
“Ah, well, how awfully kind of you, my little doe. Just know, that I’m doing quite alright-” Before Alastor could finish his sentence you engulfed him in a hug, he paused for a moment, before slowly wrapping his arms around the small of your back.
His face was in the crook of your neck, as he sighed, you couldn’t see his face, but you could feel him give a soft smile onto your neck, not a grin, but a smile.
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Angel Dust
You knew Angel’s job at the studio was far from easy, and shifts could last several hours at a time, but now? You were starting to worry…
He hadn’t been home in nearly two days. And it was starting to freak you out.
You sat in Angel’s bed in the hotel, snuggled next to Fat Nuggets, he let out a small snort as you cradled him in your arms. “I miss him too, baby.” You muttered, kissing his forehead, tearing up at the thought of all possibilities of what could’ve happened to him.
“Papa will be back home soon.” You nearly whispered, your voice cracking softly, you just wanted to see your boyfriend. The movie that was on in the background began to fade away as you fell to sleep.
You woke up again at about 1am from a slam of the bathroom door that was connected to Angel’s room. You blinked your eyes a few times, groggily, not entirely aware of what was going on until you heard sobbing coming from the bathroom.
You rushed the warm, pink comforter off of you, leaving Fat Nuggets on the bed asleep, urgently swinging open the bathroom door, finding Angel wailing, clinging onto the sink, halfway on the floor.
His shirt was off, and a few bruises and scars were visible. He let go of the sink, and slid down the floor, cradling his body.
“Handsome, shit..” You murmured, kneeling down to his level, you put a comforting hand on his knee. “Baby, look at me.”
You requested softly, now using your hand to comb through Angel’s hair, when you didn’t get a response, you used your free hand to tilt his face up to you, and the sight broke you.
His eyes stared into yours, afraid and hurt, there was smeared eyeliner under his eyes that traveled a bit down his face, there was blood coming from his mouth.
You felt tears prick in your eyes, you hated seeing him like this, “My love, can I hold you?”
Angel nodded as his body fell into your arms, you rocked him slowly, shushing his sobs, turning them into a small sniffles.
You pulled away from him to look at him, you wiped the smudged makeup off his face with your thumb, and looked at him. “Wanna talk about it, Angie?”
“You already know the deal by now, it’s just Val..” He said, wiping his eyes, hiccuping before continuing, “I had a rough week, and I wasn’t off-script, and he just said to improv it, and I just fucked it up.. and he, well..” He gestured to the bruises and scars on his body, referencing what happened, giving a dry chuckle, you tensed above him.
“Baby.” You started, cupping his cheeks, pulling him to look at you, “I don’t know how yet, but I will fucking get you out of this, I don’t care who or what I have to go through, but I will fucking get you out of this. No one gets to hurt you and expect to get away with it.” You vowed, as your foreheads connected,
“Sugar, there’s no way out.” Angel murmured. “He’ll find me..” He said barely above a whisper, his voice cracking in fear, your heart ached for him.
“I’ll figure it out, handsome.” You said, pecking his forehead, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”
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Lucifer
You’ve known since before you even started dating that Lucifer had depression, and you knew it hit hard, but you had never really been around to experience that before.
Whenever you could, you always tried to help him out with it, which was a bit hard since he had a tendency to brush it off a lot
It wasn’t until you came home to Luci having a depressive episode where you really got a grip on his depression
You came back to you and Lucifer’s shared home, you had just gotten out of work, and Lucifer was supposed to be at a meeting, key word, supposed to.
As you walked down the hall you heard sniffles coming from your shared bedroom.
You opened the door, it let out a small creak, and you noticed Lucifer curled up on the end of the bed.
There were tissues scattered on the floor on his side of the bed and on his night stand, his clothes that he would’ve worn to his meeting were in a messy pile on the floor, he was in boxers and no shirt, his hair messy, as he sniffled into the pillows, curled up in a thin but fuzzy duck blanket.
“Sweetie, what happened?” You asked sweetly, sitting down next to him at the edge of the bed, rubbing his scalp.
“I-I was gonna go to my m-meeting today, but when I went to get out of bed everything it just felt like I couldn’t do it.. and I started spiraling and I called Charlie and told her to go instead..” Luci explained through sniffles, clutching the blanket closer to his chest.
“Aww, darling.” You cooed lovingly, caressing his cheek, “How about this; I go run a nice, hot bath for the two of us, and then we can cuddle and take a nap, and then try to clean everything up. You can even bring in a few ducks if you want.” Lucifer perked up at your offer, nodding eagerly.
“Okay.” You smiled, chuckling softly, “Just keep your pretty little self here while I go run the water.” You said, getting up to leave, but you turned around as you got to the doorway. “Bubbles or no bubbles?” You asked with a knowing smile.
“…Bubbles, please.”
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Velvette had sent you off to go check on Vox, normally he comes out of his security room to check on either her or Valentino, or you, and surprisingly he hadn’t today
You worked for the Vee’s but you were also friends, you were important enough to be basically considered an honorary Vee member, but you were unimportant enough to be cut from big social events and have a fair amount of work dumped on you last minute — And you were an assistant (as well as partner) to Vox
You knocked on the door to Vox’s office room, when no response came from the other side you slowly opened the door, and you saw a very stressed Vox.
His screen was in his hands, letting out small sniffles, but he would glitch here and there as the watery tears shocked his chords.
“Baby, you good?” You asked, standing behind him.
He whipped around, scrambling to wipe away any remaining tears, “Oh- Uh- Yeah- I’m fine.” He muttered, turning back around.
“Were you crying?” You asked, hesitantly, you’d never seen him cry before, other than sex, you both had only been together a few months.
“What? No! I don’t do that shit.” He scoffed, it was clear he was getting defensive, he didn’t like to be caught like this, but he’d rather it be you than someone else.
“Vox…” You pushed, maybe you shouldn’t have, but you did anyway. “Fine. Rough day, okay? Work is stressful as fuck.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, “Do you wanna lay down? Maybe take a nap? And you come back in an hour or two?” You suggested softly, Vox could be stubborn as hell at times, and you weren’t trying to push your luck.
Vox hesitates momentarily, before muttering a small, “I guess…”
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kissforyouu · 8 months
Text
strawberries and cigarettes. jjk
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pairing : smoker!jk x reader
warnings : smoke sesh (DONT smoke this is js fiction) , fluff , smut , making out , fingering , thigh riding , food play , use of word "slut" , short LOL
a/n : I HHAAADDD TOOOOO GGGRAAAHH
(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
"Baby!"
You were so excited to finally be back home to your sweet handsome boyfriend. Working at a clothing store had its own disadvantages, sometimes you'd have really long shifts where you'd have to work for about 8 hours. It's tiring, really. But the store actually pays you a good decent amount, and you really weren't looking for another job at the moment.
You enter your apartment carrying your bags filled with a few snacks and your favourite fruit — strawberries.
"Jungkook?" You ask again, eyes roaming around your apartment looking for your boyfriend.
"Ah!" There he was. Your eyes lock on your boyfriend, fucking manspreading on the couch with a cigarette in between his middle and pointer finger. His back was leaned against the cushion of your couch, looking as comfortable as ever. What did catch your eye was the thin material of the shirt he was wearing, oversized but you could still see the outline of his abs and nipples. Your eyes then travel down his exposed tattooed arm resting on top of his thigh, muscles flexing. He seems to be eating ramen, making slurping noises each bite while his big doe eyes were glued onto the television - probably watching some show. You lean your body against the frame of the wall, quietly admiring your boyfriend.
He's the most handsome man you've ever laid your eyes on. So fucking beautiful and ethereal. Not a single flaw on his face. Even the little scar on his cheek, which he would like to address as a "flaw" was so beautifully carved. If that even made sense. But it did, for you.
Deciding to quit just staring at your boyfriend, you make your way towards the living room, your figure appearing right in front of him. Jungkook's focus quickly shifts to you, a big bright smile taking over his face.
Jungkook looks to the side to blow out the remaining smoke in his mouth before he puts the cig in his ashtray. He makes grabby hands at you, motioning you to get closer to give him a hug. Happily, you take a few steps towards your boyfriend and leaned down before he engulfs you in a wholesome hug with his muscular arms. He squeezes you tightly, pulling your body to him to make you fall right on top of his lap. A little chortle escapes your lips while you hug him back as well, your body being squished even more.
A couple of seconds of staying still, Jungkook decides to pull away for a moment to take a look at your face. Smiling, he holds your chin with his right hand, squishing your face together so that your lips were now duck lips. Jungkook leans in to peck your lips a few times, a hum of satisfaction leaving him right when he tastes the strawberry lip balm you always apply.
"My favourite" He hums as he releases your face to fall back onto the couch. "Also why I wear it" you mumble, getting off his lap to sit on the couch right next to him.
You wrap your hand around Jungkook's arm, leaning the side of your face onto him.
"How was work today?" He speaks, his left hand reaching to grab another cigarette out of his packet.
"It was alright, nothing much to say. I'm tired, though" your voice is low as you speak. You attentively watch Jungkook light up his cigarette before bringing it to his mouth to inhale. He pulls it away to blow out the smoke to the side, making sure you don't get anything on your face.
"Aw, my pretty baby" He coos, a sly grin forming on his lips. Jungkook chuckles, peppering your face with a few more kisses. You loved that about him. He was never afraid to show his affection towards you.
"You wanna go to sleep early, then? I could set up the bed for you, hm? Wanna eat something before you sleep?" He asks, wanting you to rest. You giggle, shaking your head from side to side. "Koo, I just had one shift. It's not like I climbed a mountain or something." You lean to peck his cheek as a reward.
Jungkook scrunches his nose, "still! You said you were tired" he mumbles. How could someone be so cute.
"No, baby, it's okay" Jungkook nods as a reply, taking another inhale out of his cigarette.
A small silence of about one and a half minutes fall upon us as you watch him take inhales and blow the smoke out repeatedly.
Hmm, what if I...
"Jungkook."
He turns to look at you, humming a little as a response.
You stare at Jungkook, contemplating whether to do what you're about to do or not. Uhhh.
Your eyes shift from Jungkook's face to the cigarette in his hand as you lean forward a little to snatch it from his hand. Jungkook looks at you, one eyebrow raised in surprise. Your eyes switch in between Jungkook and his cigarette a few times before you bring the cigarette upto your lips so you could take an inhale. Jungkook watches you in shock, finding your actions unusual as you never smoke. In addition to that, you used to scold Jungkook for smoking when you two had started dating at first. But you eventually stopped, saying it's alright. But now here you were, inhaling smoke out of his cigarette.
You inhale once more, shoulders dropping down as you blow the smoke out to Jungkook's face. He gasps, surprised, very surprised at your actions.
"Baby? What are you doing?" He motions at the cigarette in your hand.
"Always wanted to do this" You sigh, taking another inhale. You groan, leaning forward to lay on Jungkook's lap as your chin was now resting on his mid thigh.
He tilts his head to the side, fingers gripping onto your hair to turn your face to the side so that you're facing him.
"What do you mean?" He questions.
"Well, you always smoke. So I just thought what it would feel like to do so, you know..." you mumble, ready to take another inhale. But before you could do so, Jungkook quickly snatches the cigarette away from you and throws it into the ashtray.
"Hey! Jungkook!" You groan, sitting up from his lap.
"Baby, I am not letting you smoke—"
"But—"
"No buts, Y/n. I've told you before, it's not the best for your health. It's true that I do it but," He groans, "I've my own reasons, yeah? You though, I'm not letting you smoke" He snapped.
You mewl, lips forming into a pout once again. You look at Jungkook, your eyes big and wide as you try your best to use your little charm against him. I mean, it always worked. Your eyes stared into his, big and wide as you laid on his lap, long lashes batting against the under area of your eyes.
Jungkook scoffs, the palm of his hand coming in contact with your cheek to leave a small harmless slap.
"Not gonna work this time, baby"
You roll your eyes in annoyance, huffing a little too.
"One time only, Koo" you plead.
He shakes his head in disapproval, looking away from you. You coo, trying your best to yet your boyfriend to let you try out a few of his cigarettes. Your eyes travel down his body, landing on his crotch area. Ah, idea! The idea instantly made a mess between your legs.
"Koo..." whimpering, you lift your body up to sit on his thigh.
"I said no, baby" his voice was deep and demanding.
You slowly lift up the end of his shorts upwards to expose more of his thigh, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck in the meantime.
"Please..." whining, your hips start to work their way on his thighs. Your pace was slow - you were taking your time - watching Jungkook's facial expressions suddenly change.
"Mm, baby, please stop—"
You cut him off with a moan, knowing exactly that that's his weak spot. He suddenly groans, listening to your angelic moans. The pleasure felt just perfect. Not too rough, but not too slow. You rubbed yourself onto his thigh, small little whimpers leaving your lips.
At first, you started this to just convince Jungkook to let you have his cigarette but as you continue to do it more, you slowly start to find yourself actually enjoying riding his thigh.
"Fuck" your back is arched, angling your clit to rub against his thigh.
It's almost like Jungkook forgot, he leans forward to grab a cigarette out of the box to light it up, then to press it against his lips to inhale some in. You watch the cigarette in his hand attentively, thinking of when to snatch it into your hand.
Jungkook eyes you up and down with a smirk, — god, that LOOK — his free hand coming to hold you by your chin. His grip on you is tight, but not too tight to leave a bruise or anything — he would never. Jungkook scoffs, hand tapping your cheek as he blows smoke out onto your face. Without being able to contain your cough in, you cough a little, but still inhaling the smoke in.
Fuck, that just made you even wetter.
"Isn't that what you wanted, slut? You want me to fucking blow smoke onto your desperate ass while you get off on my fucking thigh?" Jungkook mocks you.
Nodding your head vigorously, your moans grown louder as you fasten your pace. Jungkook brings you closer to your orgasm by bouncing his thigh up and down, sending small vibrations throughout your body.
"Fuck, Koo— your thigh..." you moan louder.
Jungkook laughs at you, clearly mockingly, as his free hand lifts you up to unhook your skirt so that it would fall down. He then takes a look at your damped panties, soaked in your arousal. You look down to see Jungkook's fingers moving your panty aside to the corner to expose your bare pussy.
"Go on" he orders, taking another inhale out of his cigarette.
You nod eagerly to his words. Fuck, this felt so good. You swear you just landed in heaven, right when your bare clit makes contact with Jungkook's bare thigh, his muscles flexing against yours. Gasping out loud, you begin to rub yourself in a circular motion, desperately hoping for a release.
Jungkook holds the sides of your head to lean in to connect your lips with his, bringing you into a heated and messy kiss. You leave out a series of soft moans in return, the sound vibrating through both of your mouths. He pulls out of your heated kiss, sighing as he inhales more of the cigarette.
He seems to enjoy this. You riding his thigh trying to release oh so desperately while he watched you attentively with a cigarette in between his fingers. He never thought they'd be in this position, but here you are.
"My good girl" He praises you. Jungkook's eyes were glued onto your pussy, covered in slick and dripping down to his thigh as well. The corner of his lip curls up in a vicious idea, his body reaching forward a little to grab onto your grocery bag from earlier. You watch what he's about to do, curiously, stopping what you were doing unconsciously.
Jungkook pulls out the strawberries you bought for yourself, taking one to put it in his mouth. He chews on it, signalling you to continue with his hands and a tilt of his head.
"Give me a good show, baby" He commanded.
You gulp, raising your hips up to continue to rub myself onto him. You felt really fucking good, but not good enough to make you cum. You needed more.
Your fingers flew to the buttons of your dress shirt, unbuttoning them one by one. You discard your shirt, letting it drop to the ground as you give your bra the same treatment. A sigh of relaxation leaves you once your breasts are spilled out and free, you immediately grope them to begin squeezing them and pleasuring them.
Jungkook watches you continue to rub and tug onto your nipples, sweet moans falling out of those pretty pink lips of yours. Your pull on your nipple only to release it back then go back to rubbing it. Your head was thrown back, tilted to the side, leaned forward — in all existing angles doing 360°s.
Raising your head up to take a glance at Jungkook, you catch him still looking at you oh so carefully, his pants rock hard and buldge very prominent while he swirled the tip of his tongue around the strawberry.
Gathering a bit of saliva in your mouth, you spit it out to your chest, letting it dribble down onto your breasts and then your nipples.
"Fuck" Jungkook curses.
You rub your spit around your nipples slowly, teasingly, eyes fixated on his tongue and the strawberry.
He groans out loud, almost as if he's giving up on a mental challenge he made for himself. Jungkook pulls you closer by your hips, thumb brushing against your lower lip to pull it down as he pushes his strawberry in your mouth.
"Suck" he commands again.
You don't object, continuing to suck onto the strawberry. Meanwhile, Jungkook's big warm hands holds your breasts tightly, bringing a wave of pleasure to both your bodies. You moan, fastening your pace on his thigh. His lips were now wrapped around your nipple, sucking slowly. He was taking his time, small caresses on your waist, fingers brushing against your thighs, your hips, squeezing your arms and tugging onto your nipples with his teeth — fuck, he was taking all the time in the world.
Jungkook was savouring your body, taking his time with you to slowly edge you to your orgasm. But all of this without a single brush against your pussy. You could feel your cunt burning, begging to be touched by his long fingers decorated with those same silver rings he always wear.
"Jungkook, touch me down here, please" you plead.
Jungkook hums, releasing your nipple with a pop sound. His hand reaches down to touch your swollen bud, a long soft moan leaving you once he adds the smallest bit of pressure on it. You wanted to be touched on your pussy, so desperately. His face gave you such a mocking, sly, cocky expression as he watched your body squirm to his touch.
Jungkook's thumb caresses your bud, swiping it up and down oh so softly. He was teasing you. Your hips automatically react to it, your arousal gushing out as you grind forward into his fingers for more friction.
Your eyes half lid, looking down to watch Jungkook's fingers teasingly rub your bud slowly. It was so hot. But you NEEDED more.
"Please–"
"Shhhh, my angel"
He was aware of how desperate and needy you were getting, so he decided to have a little mercy on you let you have what you wanted.
Jungkook fastens his pace on you, thumb rubbing your core in a motion of an "eight". You were such a moaning mess. So fucking needy so that the smallest touch was enough to make you reach your high.
You gulp down the strawberry in your mouth, almost quite literally forgetting about it. Jungkook notices that, his free hand reaching forward to grab another strawberry.
While his right hand worked on your pussy, his left hand plops the strawberry in his mouth to coat it with his saliva and taking a small bite out of it as well. He then brings it back, shooting you a smirk. You moan, already knowing what the fuck he was going to do.
Jungkook drags the strawberry across your lips, smearing the juice of the fruit all over so that your lips would turn into a little pink shade. You gulp as he drags the strawberry further down your body, under and over your tits.
"Ah! Mmm!" A gasp followed by a few moans leave you the moment he enters two of his fingers inside you at once. His thumb still remained on your bud while Jungkook started to thrust his fingers in and out of you.
"Shit, K-koo. So good...!"
You gasp, feeling the slight coldness of the fruit on your sensitive areas as he circles it on each of your nipples. Shit. Shit. Shit.
You were in pure ecstasy right now. You could never get enough of how good and mind fucking blowing his finger felt inside your cunt.
All you could did and could do was to shamelessly moan out his name while he abused your cunt and played with your tits.
"So pretty, baby. Look at you, a fucking mess on top of my thighs, hm? Beautiful baby"
His praises were everything to you.
"My beautiful girl..." he hums.
You squeeze your eyes shut to open them while you nibbled on your lower lip. Your eyes scan the box of cigarettes placed on the side, contemplating whether to grab it. I mean, both Jungkook's hands were occupied, ...right?
You lean forward to grab a cigarette out of the box, Jungkook's eyes widening at the sudden action. He should've known you'd do this somehow. You never were the type to listen to whatever he told you, anyway.
"God, baby" He eyes you while you light up the cigarette with his grey lighter decorated with heart gems all over it. (by you, of course.)
You take a inhale out of the cigarette, Jungkook's fingers gently caressing your folds again to smear your wetness around.
You blow out the smoke on Jungkook's face and watch him to groan, head arched onto the cushion of the couch once again as he inhales the smoke you blew onto him just now. He blows it out to the side, slowly bringing his fingers covered in your arousal and cum to your own lips.
You open your mouth to take his fingers in, eagerly. Jungkook thrusts his fingers in and out of your mouth, your mind immediately imagining it was his cock as you licked and sucked on the fingers - just like you'd do to his cock.
Meanwhile, your other hand reached Jungkook's lips to press the cigarette onto them for him to inhale some smoke in. Gladly, he accepts your offer to take some smoke in and then to shamelessly blow it onto your face.
So fucking hot.
Jungkook pulls out his fingers from your mouth with a bit of force, making you whine — wanting more of his fingers. God, you loved his fingers so much.
"Spit on my fingers, angel"
He encourages you to do so, motioning you with a small tilt of his head. You, feeling more than happy, spit on his fingers like an obedient little puppy just how he asked you to do so.
"Good girl"
This time, Jungkook's fingers wrap around your waist to reach down to your pussy from the back, his fingers coming in contact with your folds covered in slick while having your body locked onto his.
"Shit, Jungkook. You're so hot"
Your naked chest was now pressed against his clothed chest, the strawberry from earlier nowhere to be seen and forgotten while his other hand snatches away the cigarette from your hand.
You whine out again, this time more dragged than before — just dying for the cigarette that's now in his hand.
"Patience, angel" He hushes you calmly.
You listen well, moaning to the feeling of Jungkook's fingers rubbing against your puffy folds, spreading your spit around.
He takes an inhale from the cigarette, blowing a bit of the smoke onto your face and the rest to the side. You moan in reaction, chin pressed onto his abs. Jungkook surprisingly brings the cigarette closer to your lips, letting you take a drag out of it.
"Mh" you hum in satisfaction, cheek now pressed against his chest while his fingers toyed with your cunt.
This felt rather relaxing and comforting. You liked this.
Jungkook places a few soothing kisses on the top of your head, enjoying this sweet moment.
You grip onto his hand to bring it down so you could take another drag from the cigarette, making Jungkook huff - rolling his eyes a little.
"Can we order chinese tonight? I'm craving that"
"Baby, I was thinking of getting pizza"
"But Jungkook, we have pizza, like, a lot of times! Let's get chinese today."
"Ah, Fine"
"How's that project at work going?"
— you and Jungkook casually slipped into conversation. This was a moment of love and comfort for you, rather than a moment of pleasure. It was true you loved having his fingers deep in your cunt, but you loved this too. It just reminds you of how easy to talk to he is, how you find comfort within his arms, how much you love him.
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Mission Dad
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Character: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader
Summary: Bucky is just your average dad in his daughter's eyes. But deep down, she yearns for a father with more influence and power, like her friend's dad. Little does she know, Bucky is anything but ordinary.
Words Count: 3,712
Warning: Slightly bullying scene.
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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The midday sun streamed into the principal's office through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. Despite the abundance of light, the atmosphere inside remained heavy and gloomy.
"I’m sorry; it’s my mistake as a parent." You bowed your head to the people in front of you: two couples who wore formal suits, along with their teenage daughter, and the principal, who kept wiping the sweat from his head.
Your daughter, Faith, who stood beside you, clenched her fist. Her expression was ugly as she looked at her mother, apologizing and bowing to someone who didn’t deserve it. “Mom, don't apologize. it’s not even my fault.”
You glanced at her and nodded, assuring her that you didn’t feel hurt or offended.
Sabrina, your daughter's classmate, smirked at you and Faith. With her mouth silent, she told Faith, “You can’t win.”
“Yes. It’s just a small matter.” Roy, Sabrina's father and also a senator, patted his daughter's head. “I think this matter doesn’t have to go public, right?” He turned to the principal.
“That’s right.”
With that, the problem was solved. But the scar still felt fresh on Faith’s heart.
As you drove the car back home, the silence hung heavy between you and Faith. Then, unexpectedly, her voice broke the quiet. “Why did you marry dad?” Faith crossed her arms beside you, her tone tinged with a mix of curiosity and frustration.
Your eyes widened in surprise, taken aback by her question. You hadn't anticipated such a query from your daughter.
“Why did dad let you go alone and allow you to be humiliated?” Faith wiped the tears from her eyes, her voice trembling with emotion. The memory of you apologizing on her behalf still fresh in her mind.
You felt a pang of heartache seeing your daughter in distress. Today's events had revealed a truth you hadn't known before. The reason for your confrontation with Sabrina's parents was rooted in the bullying Faith had endured.
Faith had gathered evidence – recordings and screenshots of text messages – hoping it would be enough to put an end to the torment. But the power and influence wielded by Sabrina's family proved formidable.
With the evidence at hand, Faith had the potential to tarnish Sabrina's family name and derail her father's career as a senator.
Your fists clenched at the thought of Sabrina's cruelty towards your daughter. You wanted to scream, to exact some form of justice for Faith's pain. The urge to confront Sabrina and her allies gnawed at you, a primal instinct to protect your child at any cost.
But you held it in, knowing that today you didn't have the power to fight back. Another reason was because your husband wasn't here. Bucky Barnes had been gone for months for his job, a job so complicated that contacting him was nearly impossible.
You caressed Faith’s hair gently. “I'll try calling your father again.”
Faith sighed, her frustration evident. “He better answer, or else I'll find a better dad.”
You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips despite the circumstances. “Honey, don’t joke like that. Your father is the only one in my heart.”
She pretended to gag, a playful gesture that reminded you of the teasing banter you shared as a family. Whenever Bucky returned home from his job, you would become lovesick teenagers, unable to keep your hands off each other.
******
Back at home, you glanced around to ensure no one was near before your hand slid open a secret shelf, revealing an old flip phone hidden within.
You dialed a number and waited anxiously until a voice finally answered, "Hello?"
You breathed a sigh of relief. "Steve, can you find him?"
“Not yet,” came the disappointing reply.
You sighed again, feeling the weight of the day's events pressing down on you. "Alright, I’ll call you later."
Closing the phone, you rubbed your temples, the stress of the situation weighing heavily on your mind. Your daughter was right – you needed Bucky.
Just then, you heard heavy footsteps descending from the second floor. "Mom, I’m going out for a sec."
You glanced up in surprise, realizing Faith was already on the move. "Faith, we just arrived!" But it was too late – she had already slipped out the door.
******
Faith heard your voice, but she sprinted faster. She had caught the name "Uncle Steve" in your conversation, indicating that he might know where her dad was. They had been friends since childhood, and she trusted him.
Upon arriving at the coffee shop owned by Uncle Steve, she pushed open the glass door and was greeted with a warm "Welcome."
Steve was taken aback. "Faith?"
Approaching him, Faith cut to the chase. "Uncle, do you know where my dad is?"
Steve hesitated, struggling to find the right words. Eventually, he shook his head. "You know he has to travel all the time."
Faith rolled her eyes in frustration. "Yeah, cleaning up someone else's mess. He keeps saying that, but when there’s trouble at his own home, he's never there."
Sensing the tension, Steve tried to diffuse the situation. "Hold up, the topic is getting heavy. Let’s sit down." He gestured towards a nearby table, inviting Faith to sit and talk more calmly.
Steve offered Faith her favorite chocolate mint drink to cheer her up. Taking a sip, Faith felt a sense of calm wash over her. She grumbled and sighed, “I don’t understand why mother married my dad when she can’t depend on him.”
Steve widened his eyes in surprise. “Your dad would be heartbroken to hear that,” he said softly. Having a daughter could be both sweet and scary, he thought, realizing the impact of her words.
“But it’s true. I also found out that mother came from a well-known family. But she cut ties with them because she married dad,” Faith sighed, her gaze drifting to the café window. “I wish I had a powerful dad.”
Steve sighed sympathetically, picking up on Faith’s frustration, as well as your own from the last phone call. “What happened, Faith?”
As Faith recounted the events of the day, Steve listened intently, his expression growing increasingly enraged. “How dare they do that!” he exclaimed, slamming his fist onto the table, causing the café patrons to jump.
“There’s nothing I can do since her father is a senator,” Faith lamented.
After a moment of silence, Steve spoke firmly. “Faith, don’t worry. Your father will handle this.”
“But—” Faith began.
“It’s not my place to tell you. Believe in your father. He’s stronger and more powerful than you think.”
Faith couldn’t argue with her uncle’s words. “Fine,” she relented, grabbing her jacket. “I’ll go back.”
Steve wanted to offer her a ride home. “Let me drive you,” he suggested.
“No, it’s alright. I need some alone time. And it’s not far,” Faith declined.
Steve nodded understandingly. “Text me when you get home,” he urged.
“Okey dokey,” Faith replied before heading out of the café.
Back at home, you continued to wait anxiously for your daughter to return. Dinner time had long passed, and worry gnawed at your insides. You picked up the phone and dialed Steve. "Is Faith with you?" you asked urgently.
Steve's voice sounded grave on the other end. "She was, but she left around 4:50 p.m.," he replied.
Your heart sank. "Steve, she still hasn't come home," you exclaimed, panic rising in your chest.
Without hesitation, you jumped into your car and raced to Steve's café. He was waiting for you at the park nearby, his expression as pale as yours. You could see the worry etched on his face as you approached him, your breath coming in heavy gasps.
Coming closer, you noticed that Steve was holding Faith's smartwatch in his hand. The gravity of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks.
Faith had been kidnapped.
You panicked, struggling to catch your breath, and Steve steadied you with a reassuring hand on your back.
"I'll call for backup," Steve declared, his voice steady despite the urgency of the situation.
"I—" you began, but the sudden phone ring interrupted you both.
The familiar ringtone brought a wave of relief flooding over you. With trembling hands, you quickly accepted the call. "Bucky!"
"Honey, I'm sorry, I just got the chance to call you. I—" Bucky's voice sounded cheerful, relieved to hear his wife's voice again.
"Our daughter has been kidnapped!!!" you blurted out, the urgency in your tone cutting through the cheerful facade.
"Who dares lay a hand on our daughter?" Bucky's voice dripped with icy resolve, his tone sending shivers down your spine.
********
As Faith struggled to focus through her pounding headache, Sabrina's taunting voice cut through the dimly lit room.
"Look who finally decided to join us," Sabrina sneered, her eyes glinting with malice as she leaned in closer to Faith. "Did you have a nice nap, princess?"
Faith clenched her fists, her jaw set with determination despite her fear. "What do you want, Sabrina?" she managed to grit out, her voice trembling slightly.
Sabrina's laughter echoed off the grimy walls, sending shivers down Faith's spine. "Oh, just a little payback for ruining my life," she replied, her tone dripping with venom. "Thanks to you, my parents are furious with me. I'm grounded, all because of your little stunt."
Faith's heart sank as she realized the extent of Sabrina's anger. She knew she had caused trouble for Sabrina, but she never imagined it would lead to something like this.
Sabrina, sensing Faith's vulnerability, circled her like a predator closing in on its prey. "You think you're so smart, don't you?" she taunted, her voice laced with contempt. "Well, let's see how smart you really are when you're at my mercy."
Fear gnawed at Faith's insides as Sabrina's words sank in. She knew she was entirely at Sabrina's mercy, with no one to help her in this dark, desolate place. She braced herself for whatever torment Sabrina had in store, steeling herself for the trials ahead.
As Faith scanned the dimly lit room, her heart sank as she noticed an array of menacing tools laid out on the table. Were they planning to kill her? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt a wave of nausea wash over her.
Sabrina's malicious grin widened as she picked up a baseball bat, swinging it menacingly a few times. The sound of the bat cutting through the air sent a chill down Faith's spine, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest.
Closing her eyes tightly, Faith began to pray silently, her mind racing with desperate pleas for someone to come to her rescue.
With an evil smile stretching across her face, Sabrina walked menacingly closer to Faith, raising the baseball bat higher with each step. Faith could feel the weight of impending doom settling over her like a heavy blanket. She wished she had stayed home with you, safe and sound. She longed to see her father, to feel his reassuring presence beside her.
"Dad, help me," she whispered desperately, her voice barely audible amidst the tension of the moment.
"I'm here," a deep voice rumbled through the darkness, sending a surge of hope coursing through Faith's veins. Could it be? Was it truly her father?
"I'm sorry I'm late," the voice continued, each word like a beacon of light cutting through the darkness.
For a moment, Faith couldn't believe her ears. Was she in heaven? But then, a second time, the voice pierced through the silence, more tangible than ever. "Dad!!!" she exclaimed, her eyes snapping open.
Standing tall and imposing in front of her was Bucky, her father. He stood alone but radiated a sense of power and strength that dwarfed everyone else in the room. With a swift motion, he halted Sabrina's advancing bat, leaving her stunned and speechless.
Sabrina had always thought her father, Roy, was intimidating, but the aura of power emanating from Bucky now was on a whole other level. She could sense a palpable bloodlust emanating from him, a primal energy that seemed to course through his veins.
With a voice that trembled with fear, Sabrina managed to stammer out, "Who... who are you?"
Bucky's gaze bore into Sabrina with an intensity that made her shrink back instinctively. "I'm Faith's father," he declared, his voice low and commanding. "And now, I'm going to teach all of you a lesson."
*******
At the grand mansion, Roy lounged in his armchair, swirling his wine glass thoughtfully as he gazed into the crackling fireplace.
The sudden ringing of his phone shattered the tranquility of the moment. "Hello?" he answered, his voice laced with annoyance at the interruption.
"Dad!!!" Sabrina's panicked voice came through the line, causing Roy to furrow his brow in confusion.
"Why are you screaming like a crazy person?" he retorted, holding the phone slightly away from his ear.
"Someone tried to kill me!!!" Sabrina's voice trembled with fear, sending a chill down Roy's spine.
"Stop being dramatic," he scoffed dismissively, though a flicker of concern flashed in his eyes.
"She's right," a new voice interrupted, sending a shiver down Roy's spine.
"And who is this?" Roy demanded, his grip on the phone tightening.
"Your nightmare. And you're next," came the chilling response, causing Roy's blood to run cold.
"Tsk. Empty threat," Roy scoffed, though his voice wavered slightly with uncertainty.
"No, Dad. He's serious. Call all the bodyguards!!!" Sabrina's urgency cut through the air, leaving Roy no choice but to take her warning seriously.
Roy wasted no time in taking action. He swiftly dialed his secretary's number, his expression tense with determination as he issued his orders.
"Get ready for an intruder," he commanded tersely, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Call in all the bodyguards. I want the mansion secured from every angle. Do whatever it takes to protect us."
As he spoke, Roy's gaze remained fixed on the flickering flames of the fireplace, his mind racing with thoughts of the potential threat looming outside.
*******
As the night wore on, tension hung thick in the air of Roy's mansion. The threat from the mysterious voice had put everyone on edge, and they remained vigilant, acutely aware of any unusual sounds or movements.
"Good. Let that kid stay there for a while. She only brings trouble," Roy remarked, his voice tinged with bitterness as he spoke of Sabrina's misfortune.
"Who tried to hurt us?" Roy's question hung heavy in the room, unanswered and unsettling.
His wife, equally on edge, offered her own speculation. "Do you think it's the Barnes?"
Roy pondered for a moment, his brow furrowing with concern. "Impossible. I looked it up. Barnes is just a nobody."
But even as he spoke the words, doubt gnawed at him. Could he be wrong? Was there more to the Barnes family than he had initially assumed?
Suddenly, the atmosphere in the house turned eerily quiet. Too quiet.
Then, piercing through the silence, came the sound of screams echoing through the halls. "AARGH!"
"BANG! BANG! BANG!" The sharp cracks of gunfire reverberated through the air, sending shockwaves of fear through the inhabitants of the mansion.
"What the fuck is going on?" Roy demanded, his voice rising with a mixture of confusion and alarm.
"Are we going to be safe?" His wife's voice trembled with uncertainty, her eyes wide with fear.
"Don't worry, the bodyguards in this room with us are former special ops," Roy reassured, though the tension in his voice betrayed his own anxiety.
One of the bodyguards stepped forward, his posture firm and resolute. "It's alright, ma'am. We can handle this," he assured, his words instilling a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.
The door swung open, revealing just one figure standing in the doorway.
As the bodyguard moved to intercept him, Bucky strode forward confidently, his eyes fixed on Roy. "You have to stop before you get hurt," the bodyguard warned, his voice tinged with concern.
But Bucky paid no heed to the warning. With a swift motion, he grabbed the bodyguard's hand and effortlessly snapped it, causing him to curse in pain.
"Shit!" the bodyguard exclaimed, clutching his injured hand as Bucky swiftly took down the rest of the security detail with brutal efficiency.
The bodyguard, his eyes wide with shock, leaned in to whisper to his friend. "Do you think it's him? The lunatic?"
His friend's expression mirrored his own disbelief as he muttered back, "Shit. You're right."
Their hushed conversation carried a sense of unease as they watched Bucky's brutal efficiency in dispatching their colleagues, leaving them wondering if they were genuinely facing the infamous lunatic they had heard whispers about.
With blood streaked across his face, Bucky closed in on Roy, who tensed, assuming a defensive stance. "So you're strong, huh?" Roy challenged, his fists clenched as he prepared for a fight. "I was in the military too. Which special force are you from?"
"Black ops," Bucky replied curtly, his words sending a chill down Roy's spine.
Before Roy could react, Bucky unleashed a barrage of punches and kicks, each blow landing with deadly accuracy. Roy staggered backward under the onslaught, his face contorted with pain as he struggled to defend himself against Bucky's relentless assault.
Roy, already on the floor, bloodied and battered, pleaded desperately, "Wait. Wait!!! Are you Faith's father? The problem between our daughters is done. And this morning your wife also agreed to it. They're just kids."
Bucky laughed darkly, the sound chilling to the bone. "My wife gave you a last chance. But your daughter blew it," he spat out, his voice dripping with disdain.
The words "just kids" rang hollow in Bucky's ears as he thought of Faith, bruised and battered, her innocence shattered by the cruelty of others.
His heart ached at the memory, and he felt a surge of anger and helplessness wash over him.
Roy's eyes blazed with fury as he struggled to rise. "Who do you think you are? You're just a fucking nobody. I'm a senator. Even if you raze my house to the ground, tomorrow you'll be sleeping in jail. Along with your wife and kid," he declared, his voice trembling with rage and defiance.
"Oh, so you're that powerful, huh?" Bucky sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he looked down at Roy.
"I'm that powerful, you son of a bitch," Roy shot back defiantly, his voice strained with anger and frustration.
With a cold smirk, Bucky reached for his old flip phone, his fingers moving with calculated precision as he dialed a number. "Senator Roy? You know him? Yeah, that one. Could you erase him? Thanks," he said casually into the phone before ending the call.
Roy's eyes widened in horror as he realized the gravity of the situation. "You..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the words to convey his disbelief and fear.
But Bucky wasn't finished yet. With a swift motion, he snatched Roy's phone from his trembling hands and quickly scrolled through the contacts. Finding the name he was looking for, he dialed the number without hesitation.
"Call him. Tell him there's a lunatic who wants to kill you," Bucky commanded, his voice cold and unyielding as he handed the phone back to Roy.
Roy's hands shook as he brought the phone to his ear, his heart pounding with dread. "Hello?"
"Commissioner!! There's a lunatic trying to kill me, he's hurt my daughter," Roy screamed into the phone, desperation and fear lacing his words.
But to his horror, all he heard in response was a calm voice saying, "I'm sorry, you've got the wrong number."
"What?" Roy's voice cracked with disbelief, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at the phone in trembling hands.
"Who are you? You're just a guy from a cleaning company." Roy looked up at Bucky, dis, belief etched across his bloodied face.
"You messed with the wrong daughter," Bucky replied coolly, his voice dripping with a quiet menace.
Bucky Barnes, known by the nickname "Cleaning Service," earned his moniker through his unparalleled expertise in handling the toughest missions in black ops. With hundreds of missions under his belt, not a single one had ever failed. His reputation as a lunatic preceded him, but he wore the label with indifference on the field.
However, when it came to his family, especially his daughter Faith, Bucky preferred to shed his tough exterior and play the role of a regular dad. He didn't want to frighten her with tales of his dangerous exploits; instead, he chose to shield her from the harsh realities of his profession.
But now, as danger loomed closer to home, Bucky realized that pretending to be someone he wasn't no longer served him or his family. It was time to embrace his true self and unleash the full extent of his capabilities to protect those he loved.
Before Roy could react, Bucky delivered a devastating punch that sent him crashing to the ground, unconscious.
*******
As Bucky stepped out of the mansion, a cry of relief and joy erupted from both you and Faith.
"Bucky!" you exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace him.
"Dad!" Faith called out, her voice choked with emotion as she joined in the hug.
Steve watched the heartwarming family reunion scene unfold before him, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips, especially with the backdrop of the burning house behind them.
Bucky held his daughter close, his arms wrapping protectively around her. "I'm sorry. I let you and your mother get hurt," he murmured softly, his voice filled with remorse.
Faith shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. "No, Dad. You're not late. You're so cool," she reassured him, her words filled with love and admiration.
Bucky smiled, a rare warmth spreading across his features as he looked down at his daughter. "Thank you," he said softly before gazing at you. Leaning down, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "I'm back.I will never let anyone else underestimate us ever again," he whispered, his voice filled with determination and love.
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indecisive-capricorn · 2 months
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Headcanons to Miguel O'Hara x Pregnant Reader:
WARNINGS: There will be a bit of angst, grief, mentions of child loss, but loads of fluff.
SUMMARY: Getting pregnant is one thing, but how will your beloved partner, Miguel O'Hara, react to it when he finds out? And how will he be like throughout your pregnancy?
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have been noticing that for the last few months, the Miguel O'Hara imagines are decreasing and I am still very high in my reader phase for him, so in an attempt to feed my fellow still on high Miguel O'Hara lovers, I'll be posting several imagines or headcanons for him. Apologies if it's a little rough, been some time since I made a headcanon.
MASTERLIST: Feel free to check out my other works! :)
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When you first found out you were pregnant, you were quite unsure what to do. It wasn't as if you were afraid that Miguel might abandon you or anything, but because of what had happened with Gabriella, you knew children was a very sensitive topic for him.
You had talked with Miguel in the past about children and he considered the possibility of having children with you in the future but he didn't feel as if he was ready for kids yet. He was still grieving over Gabriella and you didn't blame him. She was his kid and no parent should ever have to endure the feeling of losing their child, but he has to and it was a scar that he would bring along with him throughout his life.
That was the reason why you are quite nervous to tell Miguel the news and you actually tried to keep it hidden from him for some time. You managed to do a good job at it but it also made you accidentally distant yourself from Miguel too.
Miguel was quick to catch on that something was wrong. Look, you can be the greatest liar in the world and he will still manage to find out your deepest secrets without needing you to tell him any of them. But even before you distant yourself from him, Miguel was able to sense the changes your body was going through. He wasn't precisely sure what it was but he knew something was different and you could blame it on his spider senses for giving him the ability to know that.
Miguel thought you were on your period at first and needed space, but he grew suspicious when your behaviour still had't changed after a few weeks.
And that was when he decided to confront you about your behaviour. He missed your light touches, your cuddles and your daily kisses, especially the cheek kisses you usually give him every morning before going to work or before going on a long mission. He missed pulling you into his arms while sleeping in bed with you, only to have you scooting to the far side of the bed the last few weeks. He missed you so much and he was hurt by your actions as well.
Even with how nervous you were, you didn't want to hide the truth from Miguel any longer, so you told him about your pregnancy.
Shock was an absolute understandment to describe Miguel's reaction to the news. Like, all the signs of your pregnancy the past few weeks came up to him in large capital letters. He should've known from it all but then again, even if you were already displaying a small baby bump, Miguel would only believe it once you actually said it to him.
Miguel would be happy next and he'll be kissing your cheek. He'll say that it is a wonderful news and would ask you for more details about the pregnancy and the baby's health. He'll be quite joyful about it but you knew that there was more to it than that.
You knew your partner better than anyone in the multi-verse and you knew for a fact that while Miguel was more than happy and excited about the news, you also knew that Miguel felt very scared. He was scared that he might fail to protect you and the baby the same way he failed to protect Gabriella. He would swear to you on that day that no harm would ever come to you or the baby as long as he's alive, but it still didn't vanish the fear inside him.
It is something Miguel can't control. Ever since Gabriella died, Miguel had closed off almost everyone in order to protect himself from losing more loved ones. It changed when he met you. You had slowly but surely began to tear down his walls, and encourage him to fight his fears.
His fears continues to stay in him, but you are always there to assure and remind him that you and the baby will be with him for a very, very long time.
After he has gotten over his initial worries and fears, Miguel will be celebrating the news with you. It could be going to your favourite restaurant for dinner or even something as simple as going to the park for a walk and get ice cream. It didn't matter how they celebrate it as long as his beautiful baby mama is happy.
Miguel is the type of person who reads every pregnancy book he can get his hands on. He'll also be taking notes of every word the doctor says during your pregnancy and Miguel will be the one to ask the doctor lots of questions in each appointment. The doctor might think you love to chat and talk about the baby but boy, Miguel could be bringing a whole damn book filled with questions about the baby and your pregnancy, and that wouldn't even be enough to stop him from asking. Miguel is actually tempted to get a personal doctor for you. The guy is filthy rich after all, but you protested against the idea and he decided not to. Of course, he'll secretly have a personal doctor in his contacts and if you ever found out about it, he'll just say it's a precaution.
Speaking of being filthy rich, when it comes to buying things for you and the baby, there is no budget. Before you were pregnant, you still somehow managed to convince him to give a limit when it comes to spending his money, but after he finds out you're pregnant? Yeah no, Miguel will be spending a shit ton of money because it's the love of his life and the mother of his child we're talking about here! He's not paying attention to the price tags, just paying attention to the quality because Miguel only wants the best of the best for his family.
One of the things Miguel knows is really important is quality time and throughout your pregnancy, he tries to be less at work. Miguel can't be out of work completely since the multi-verse needs him, but he can find people to cover his work while he's away to spend time with you.
Miguel is overprotective of you. He has always been protective and perhaps a tad possessive before, especially when there are other guys around, but he is much more protective when you're pregnant. Miguel knows you're not fragile. Hell, he worked with Jessica while she was heavily pregnant and she could have still easily beaten his ass. But there's this instinct that keeps on urging him to just be on guard all the time and because of it, Miguel is always on guard, unless you two are at home alone together.
Miguel adores your growing baby bump. It could still be a small one and Miguel would already be in love with it. He is always touching your stomach, either caressing it gently or leaving several kisses, and this continues on as it grows over time. Miguel's eyes will shine brightly whenever he feels the baby kick.
With that being said, every wish you make is Miguel's command. He will do anything and everything to make you as comfortable and relaxed as you can be. Swollen feets? Miguel's there to massage them. Late night cravings? Miguel's already on the way to the grocery store to buy the ingredients. Suddenly bursting into tears because of your hormones? Miguel's immediately there to comfort you.
Miguel doesn't usually like to take pictures but he tries to take some pictures of you throughout your pregnancy and put them all in a single photo album. He'll also put in the pictures that he had kept of each ultrasound appointment into the album. He does this so that one day when the baby is finally born and has grown much older, Miguel wants to be able to remember all the times of your pregnancy. The photo album is definitely one of his most cherished things and he'll be adding more pictures to it once the baby is born.
Overall, Miguel will be a little scared at first but he will always be very supportive of you throughout your pregnancy and try to be the best partner he can be to you and be the best father to your baby.
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e-m-ma-lmfao · 8 months
Note
PLS YOU NEED TO WRITE MORE FICS ABOUT ASTARION the one you did was so good and cute ☹️☹️ i love it
Let Me Clean Your Wounds
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pairing : astarion x (fem) reader
summary : a long week of hard work leaves your party tired and injured. you offer to clean astarions and to your surprise, he accepts.
warnings : talk about blood.
a/n : thank you anon :0 i STILL have not played baldurs gate (so i apologize again for my lack of knowledge).
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It had been an incredibly long week. 
It started by someone in the party pointing out that you had no more money left. So you had to spend your days doing odd jobs for people in the nearby town. 
However, a few of them had failed to mention the fact that their job requests could end up harming you in more ways than one. An easy job, like gathering fruit for an old lady who can’t venture out that far anymore, suddenly turned into fighting a hag in the woods for trespassing on her property. 
The compensation received was hardly enough for the injuries you and your party would gather on your bodies throughout the day. 
As powerful as your group was, being caught off guard by some giant creature in the woods left you at a disadvantage. And when calmly mentioned to the people of the village, suggesting that their pay be higher for sending you to do such strenuous tasks so they wouldn’t be attacked themselves, they threw their arms up to you. 
Calling you greedy and saying you were trying to steal their gold. Of course that didn’t sit well with the nearby guards, and while jumping to conclusions without any investigation, you were thrown in a cell. Not all your party, just you, as the leader. 
You weren’t released until a member of your party persuaded them, using the gold you had just earned from the townspeople’s ridiculous jobs. 
So you packed up your camp, and ventured out to find another village. One where you hadn’t been put behind bars for scheming and trying to steal gold from the elderly. 
When you found a nice spot, and a town that looked to have more than enough gold to go around, you set up camp in the nearby woods. The townspeople were less than friendly, but at least they were honest about their jobs. 
They made it abundantly clear that they would not be handing out charity and that you had to work for the gold you earned. That turned out to be a challenge after a few jobs had been completed , and it had clicked that your party has been consistently acquiring injuries over the last few days. 
Your party was down in power. You were lacking in energy, and it was showing in the way your attacks would fly but often miss or hit with not much force behind them. 
So after completing one last job, and buying some fresh meat from the town, you decided to rest. Finally caving into the exhaustion, you felt almost weak when Lae’zel complained about stopping. But nobody else seemed to have any complaints. 
Lae’zel was hasty to eat, along with almost everybody else in the party. They got a fire started and the warmth hugged your body, but while scanning over everyone’s face you realized just how rough your condition had become . 
Everyone seemed to be holding up all right, you weren’t too worried, but as you looked in closer you noticed Astarion was seated farther away from the fire picking at his skin. 
Curious, you left the warmth of the fire and wandered over to him. 
“Mind if I sit?” 
“No, well, not much. But I don’t think you’d listen if I said I did.” You shook your head at him before taking a seat beside him. 
His face was pretty bruised up, cuts on his cheek and lip. And his arms were covered with scratches that it was continuing to pick at. 
You took another glance before standing up and walking back over to your own tent to grab some bandages, your flask of water, and a rag of some sort to wipe his wounds. When you came back he stared at you with amusement in his eyes. 
“What exactly are you planning to do with all that, darling?” 
“You're covered in cuts, have to clean them up so they don’t scar your pretty face. Let me clean your wounds?” You tried not to let the pet name have any effect over you, but you were sure your thoughts were showing through your cheeks. His hand moved to touch his cheek, as if he didn’t believe that he truly did have any injuries, wincing as his finger brushed against a larger cut. 
“You’re seriously worried about me when you’re in the same condition? For the love of the gods , you were thrown in a cell this week and you're truly worried about some cuts on my cheeks?”
“May I?” You held the rag up in your hands, pouring some water over it. He nodded, hesitantly of course, but he allowed it anyway. 
Gently, you placed the dampened rag over his cuts, wiping away at the dried blood and layer of dirt covering his pale skin. His brows furrowed, the sight causing you to let out a giggle. Usually, Astarion was very closed off, so being this close to him and him allowing you to help him was sort of new to you. 
“Why are you laughing? I’m in pain and your ..giggling?” He tried to be stern and serious, his usual facade, but a small smile was playing at the corner of his lip.  
“I’m sorry,” You let out another giggle as you swiped away at his skin and his eyebrows furrowed once more, “It’s just cute, I’ve never seen your face scrunch up like that.”
He seemed to pause, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at you. You were being serious. You thought he was cute, when he was covered in blood and dirt. Him showing a little weakness , you thought it was cute? 
“What? I know my face is probably dirty.” You rubbed at your cheek with your free hand, conscious of your appearance as his gaze lingered on your face. He didn’t care though, he was too busy thinking about your words. 
“Cute is an absurd word to use when describing someone like me. I’m too handsome to be described in such ..simple terms.” His smirk returned to his face, your mouth now agape unsure of whether he was serious or not. 
“C’mon now Astarion, I never said you weren’t handsome. I just said you were cute with your face all scrunched up like that.” The rag sat in your lap, his face was clean, his cuts just needed a little cover up. 
“So you do think I’m handsome?” He leaned in closer , his voice captivating. 
“Well I never said that either.” You placed your hand on his chest to distance yourself , ripping off a piece of the bandaging in your hands and manipulating it into place on his cheek. 
He wore a subtle pout on his lips but when you moved in close and kissed his cheek, in a moment of boldness,  it soon fell away. 
Astarion’s hands brushed against your own, taking the damp rag and pouring more water onto the other unused end. 
“My turn, darling.” The rag, making contact with your skin, made goosebumps appear on your skin. It was colder than you expected, and you knew there had to be small cuts littering your face by the way it stung. Your face must have tensed because he took his turn to laugh at you. 
“You know, you are very beautiful, even with your face all scrunched up.” He was mocking you. obviously, but his voice mixed with his compliments made your cheeks flush. 
A final swipe along your cheek and he pulls the rag away, “There. All clean, my dear.” 
His hand reached out to cup your cheek, but before the act became too intimate, he changed his course and ran his hand along the side of your hair to flatten it down. 
“You really are quite pretty .” He knew his words had such a serious effect on you, as you never tried to hide the fact that your feelings for him were far from platonic interest. It was so weird seeing him be so friendly, and flirty in a way that wasn’t meant to manipulate.
“Would you stop? It’s not nice to tease y'know.” 
“And who told you I was teasing, my dear? Was it Lae’zel cause I’ve always thought she might have a thing for me.” He laughed at the end of his sentence, joking. “I would never tease a woman as pretty as you, that would be very cruel of me.” 
“Do you want to join me by the fire?” His gaze shifted to look at the group seated around the fire, he seemed to ponder before looking back at you with furrowed brows. 
“I can smell their horrible odor from here.” You huffed, pushing his shoulder. He looked once more, and seemed to ponder some more but his face was hard enough to read when he wasn’t looking away from you. 
Astarion groaned, ringing out the wet rag still sitting in his hands. “That is not an answer, Astarion. I’m cold, and the fire looks so nice.”
“Fine, if we must, we can go,” You smiled down at him as you stood but it was replaced with a look of shock when he pulled you to sit back down, “On one simple condition.” 
You rolled your eyes, “What could you possibly want from me?” 
He stayed silent for a second, but as he noticed you becoming increasingly impatient he began to speak.
“A kiss. Not a petty one, and not on my cheek. I mean a real one.” You were flush in the face once more. He seemed totally serious, a permanent smirk painted on his face, but his eyes stared into your own without any sign of humor. You honestly thought he might be mocking you. 
“Okay. I can do that. Easy, but only if you’re nice and say please.” 
“Now who’s teasing.” You only stared at him, sternly. If he wanted to act like a child, and demand rewards in order to complete simple tasks, then you could tease him like one. “Fine. Please…pretty please.”
Your eyes widened, you didn’t think you had ever heard him say please to anyone, let alone add in a “pretty”.
 He didn’t move, he was entirely dead set on this. His face was close enough to yours that you didn’t have to shuffle very far. As gently as you could, in case he decided that he was joking and pulled away, you placed your hands on his face.
One hand cupping his cheek, fingertips rubbing at the hairs falling delicately in front of his ears, the other near the bottom of his cheek and holding onto his jaw. Slowly, you pulled him in until your lips met his. You still weren’t entirely convinced that he was serious, but when his fingers entangled in your hair and pulled you in deeper, you had a hunch that he might not be joking. 
He didn’t let you pull away until he was entirely satisfied. Your breath was heavy, and your skin was hotter than before in multiple ways. 
“I haven’t had a meaningful one in a long time, darling. Thank you.”
“Should we go sit by the fire?” You stood up, legs wavering before stiffening, and you offered him out your hand. He took it in his large one, following you to the fire, sitting beside you. There was a heavy silence, causing you to look around and see everybody's eyes already on you. 
“What?”
“If you guys are gonna keep sucking each other's faces, could you please do it in a tent? You made me lose my appetite.”
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angelltheninth · 3 months
Text
Covert Relations in the Bathroom
Pairing: Wriothesley x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, co-workers, secret relationship, rough sex, banter, hiding, clit stimulation, keeping quiet, hickies, creampie, name calling, degredation, rivals who fuck, cock riding, not fully naked, streangth kink
Word count: 1.1k
A/N: This is just an excuse to write dirty, filthy, passionate, quick almost hate sex with Wriothesley.
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Wriothesley's day was not going well. With every new report he had to read he got more and more pissed off, just itching to out there and give the people causing trouble a piece of his mind. Alas, he couldn't not today. He'd have to find a new way to deal with this stress. Well not new anymore but different the usual.
Apparently you had the same idea, even going the extra step to follow him. "You know this is the men's bathroom right?"
"You know you just fingered me in your office right?" You crossed your hands over your chest, cheeks still flustered from it. Funny how he saw it so fitting to mess with you in the work place, but was also able to keep a fully professional air around him when you were in the company of others. "Wrio, you didn't let me finish."
"So what? You want me to something about that? You're the one who was getting too loud." Wriothesley crossed his arms too and leaned into your personal space, "Don't offer if you can't keep quiet."
He was trying to get on your nerves. Well you could play this game too. "I'm not the one who behaves like a horny dog who needs to fuck everything in his sight." His smile wavered for a split second. He kept walking towards you until he backed you up against one of the stall doors. Wriothesley towered over you in both height and frame. The size difference made for a fun fuck but at times like these it was annoying.
"Are you my bitch then? Cause you sure seem to be happy to let me fuck you." This fucking asshole! You should have slapped him honestly. Oh what would be the point, he'd probably get hornier from that.
He did a good job hiding his bulge but this up close you didn't have to see it, you could feel it.
"Then fuck me." You challenged and stood on your tiptoes to meet his rough lips. Wriothesley growled into into your kiss, his mouth pushing back right away. His hand found it's target under your skirt, "Finish what you started, or I'll finish it for you and make you watch." And you meant that threat too, you've done it before, rode a big dildo while Wriothesley was handcuffed and muzzled, his cock leaking with cum.
"You wouldn't dare." He bit your lip harshly, a warning.
"I don't think you want to find out." You unzipped his pants and unbuckled his belt, tracing your finger around the wet spot of the bulging head. "There's not a lot of time Wrio."
"We have as much time as I say we have." But he didn't want to wait anymore either. His cock wouldn't be happy with him if he denied it any longer. You pushed the band of his underwear down until his cock sprang free, throbbing and veiny and ready to go. "Up you go." Wriothesley's hands lifted you up by your thighs, your legs spread to make room for his wide hips, "And down."
Your pussy took his cock with no resistance at all, already worked up and wet from his fingers earlier.
"Taking me so well. That's my good bitch." Wriothesley grinned at you as he started moving at an unforgiving pace. "You think you're in control here? Hm? The only reason you're still here, annoying me and butting heads with me every day, is because your cunt is too good to let go."
You cupped his cheek a bit too harshly, almost like you wanted to add to the scar beneath his eye. "So you admit you need me." It may have been in a crude way but he wanted you by his side. Everyone could see Wriothesley treated you differently, but they had the reasons all mixed up.
For them the two of you were just rivals who were forced to work together and got on each other's nerves. That was certainly part of your dynamic. The other part was the one where you got on each other nerves so much you fucked each other out of your mind. You met your own eyes in the mirror, seeing your disheveled look, your puffy lips, your hands in his hair, your legs shaking with each deep thrust of his hips against yours. It made you feel dirty, but oh so good.
Wriothesley's smirk was the only thing that soured the experience for you. He could come on the spot just from knowing how horny he made you feel. Because you tried to act like he wasn't doing it for you, like you didn't crave his cock every time your pussy was horny and empty. He knew you felt good when he handled you like this, pressed you against himself, trapped you, fucked you and used your tight little hole as a cocksleeve.
You tightened your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his back, making him groan, "Too much for you?"
"You? You thing too little of me." He pressed his lips to your neck, biting and grunting while the thumping and slapping got faster and faster, your moans edging him closer and closer. "And maybe too much. Why don't you say my name?"
And stroke his ego? You'd rather stroke his cock. Or tighten around it in this case. He interpreted that very differently then you hoped. His thick cock pulsed inside your walls, the angle perfect to make your toes curl. Good thing he couldn't see it.
"Say my name, come on you little slut. Or I stop again." Wriothesley's threat was empty, he was close as well he wouldn't stop now.
"The only slut I see here is you. So desperate to get your cock wet that you break your own protocols. You're shameless." You laughed and tilted his head, "Come for me. Come in cunt. Now Wriothesley." You were the one in control, he was fucking you, you were on could nine, but you were the one making him come, spill his seed inside you.
"You fucking bitch. You want cum? I'll give you so much you end up pregnant!" His cock stayed buried inside you while you clenched around it. "Milking me just like a bitch in heat. Just like I said, my good bitch. Oh... mhm... every drop, take every fucking drop." Your legs fell limp around him and he opened the stall, walking in and sitting on the toilet. "Gonna lift you up now."
"Okay." You mumbled, catching your breath against his neck. You were both full and empty. Wriothesley pressed the toilet paper over your dripping pussy, carefully cleaning up the mess you made. He was a bit softer when it came to aftercare.
But still an asshole as he pressed his hand over your twitching clit, eliciting more low moans from you. Whatever. You'd get back at him for this. Eventually. Later tonight.
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1-ker0sene-1 · 3 months
Note
Would you consider writing for a reader with face blindness and the other ways they have to identify the boys with?
Like whenever they just freshly walk into a room the reader has to stare at them for a moment until they say something or until they spot the part of them they use to identify them, then they get all happy to see them.
I just think it’d be really cute and face blindness is never a disability I see anything for, it lacks a lot of representation but affects a lot of people. Living with face blindness is a serious struggle, because even if someone is family, they’ll always wear the face of a stranger
{I don't mind at all! I did have to do a little research, as I personally was pretty curious at how somebody with this disability sees faces. If I got anything wrong please let me know! ♥️ As always I hope you're having a lovely day anon♥️}
Price
It took John some getting used to. Not that he doesn't try to accommodate, he just often forgets you don't see the way he does. He's so caught up in loving on you, he doesn't really mind whether you see him. So when he's meeting up with you on dates, coming over to sit at the table where you're already waiting for him.
Seeing that pretty face of yours contort into confusion and even a bit of nervousness makes his brows raise.
"I um.. I'm waiting for someone-"
You mumble out to what you assume may be a stranger.
"Are you now Darlin'?"
John chuckles, reaching to hold your hand from across the table. Lifting it to kiss your knuckles, blue eyes softening at you.
"I'm right here."
Gaz
Kyle would get used to it pretty quickly, trying to find ways for you to recognize him easily. Fuck he'll wear a goddamn cat collar if you ask him to. He won't want you to feel bad for it either.
"You don't need to see me lovie.. you know me. You feel me. And you've done a hell of a job loving me."
He mumbles, if you still feel bad- he'll take your hands and place them on his face. Telling you to just close your eyes and feel.
Anytime he sees the confusion starting in your eyes he tilts his head and cheekily tells you.
"The best boyfriend-"
"Kyle!"
He grins when he gets to watch your reaction to him. It's kind of ethereal.. He gets to see in real time the love bloom across your features. It hits him to, just falls for you everytime he sees it.
Soap
Luckily, Johnny can never really sneak up on you, purely cause he can't keep his mouth shut around you. He didn't even know for the longest time before you outright told him of your disability. He always calls out first, with that Scottish accent and slang, he's pretty recognizable. Between his call outs of-
"Bonnie!"
"Aye there's my lass.."
"Where you ofta' hen?"
Followed by being swiftly scooped up or pulled into his arms. You will have to explain the condition, he's gonna ask questions. Not that he has any doubts, he's just incredibly curious at how you see the world. He'll listen to every word as you describe it, holding your hand to his cheek. Your thumb brushes over the scar on his chin.
Ghost
Personally I believe Simon would be the most effortlessly accommodating. As soon as he finds out you have this disability, he finds a pretty good solution in his eyes. His balaclava. Not many wear a skull balaclava in fucking daylight. So often he wears it until you at least see him, just so you don't panic and can somewhat recognize him better. Then he'll slip it off.
There's maybe a couple times he doesn't wear it. Most likely he just forgot, arriving home. His stealth can sometimes be a curse when you can't recognize him. Poor doll. Nearly jumped out of your skin seeing some big guy in the corner of the room.
"Fuck- it's me love- jus' me."
He does feel bad about it. But the way your eyes light at his voice never fails to make him smile. Tugging you into his arms. Mumbling an apology for scaring you as he kisses across your skin.
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geeky-politics-46 · 1 year
Text
Party For Two
Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You and Bucky discuss what he wants to do for his birthday and what he wants as his present.
Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, light dirty talk, pet names, language, creampie, Bucky in his underwear needs a warning all its own
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You could seriously just watch Bucky walk around in his underwear all day and be happy as a clam. You've told him before, and you'd tell him again. That he should just not wear clothes when you two were spending the day at home. 
It didn't matter if he threw on a shirt. Some days, having his arm and his scars completely visible bothered him. Sometimes he had phantom limb pain and needed the arm off completely, prefering to cover his scars as you tried to help with the residual nerve damage in his shoulder and back. 
Shuri did a lot, but she couldn't rewire the mess of his nervous system Hydra had left behind. Despite your assurance that you loved every inch of him, you would never push him to do something he didn't want to do. Some days were harder than others and you made sure he felt safe and loved even on his worst days. So your main rule was just no pants.
A man in his underwear should not turn you into this much of a hot horny mess, especially when you get to see him totally naked regularly. Although Bucky was an incredible specimen of a man.
Even now, you could see his lips moving, but your brain could not process the words he was saying. Not when those tight boxer briefs made his ass look like you could just bite into it. Not to mention how they perfectly cupped his bulge. The way you could just slightly see his cock and balls jiggle as he walked. It felt dirty but still kind of sweet. 
It made you just want to play with his cock. Not necessarily in a hand job sexual way, but just hold it and pet it. Tell him how pretty and perfect his cock was. Gently massage and rub his balls and kiss all over him. He did have the prettiest cock. 
You also loved how much he blushed whenever you told him how pretty his cock was. The old-fashioned boy from the 1940's was still taken aback by such words coming from your pretty little mouth. Even if it was a genuine compliment he still wasn't used to hearing a sweet pretty thing like you talk so openly about liking cock. Especially his. Especially when he wasn't already balls deep inside you.
Bucky agreed to the deal on the condition that you also wore no pants. You were allowed to throw on shorts or pj's on occasion, but only ones Bucky liked. Usually, you just went for an oversized shirt. 
Honestly, the two of you became quite the pair of hermits or homebodies. Your happy place was your apartment. Just the two of you, and Alpine, of course. You had all settled into your little domestic routine quite well. You couldn't help the little contented sigh that left your lips.
It was then that you realized Bucky had stopped talking and was staring back at you, trying not to laugh at your deer in headlights expression. You were caught red-handed, staring at him again. He couldn't be too mad about you not listening if you were gonna look so cute when busted.
"You know I think you have a bigger staring problem than I do, babydoll."
You could feel your cheeks blush as you both dissolved into little giggles. You knew he wasn't mad, but you still apologized anyway once you composed yourself. 
"I'm sorry, Buck. You are just too sexy sometimes for my brain to do anything but stare at you. I kinda like you, ya know." 
You gave him a teasing smirk punctuating your statement. Saying I love you was still new to the two of you, but Bucky would say it over and over the first few days. You couldn't help but tease him about it. All out of your own love for him though, and he knew it.
"Well, if you had been listening, you would know that Sam is inevitably going to try to throw me some sort of birthday party. He's been dropping hints for days, but if he asks please tell him we already have plans. I don't care what, but I really don't want a party." 
Of course, that's right. Sam had been after you about trying to do something for Bucky’s birthday. Sam wanted to go out and do something bigger. You knew all Bucky wanted to do for his birthday was be alone. It was hard for him think about all the birthdays, all the years, he had lost. He wanted to mark the day by enjoying the life he had waited so long for. 
He had waited so long to be at peace. Even though he still had missions to go on and work to do in the field, and in his own head, he felt a stability that he had always dreamed of. He had an apartment. Even if it wasn't the most put together. He had a pet. Alpine the fluffy white feline rescue who has helped him just as much as he helped her. 
Most importantly, he had you. He had an amazing girl that he wanted to settle down with. Create a home with. One day marry and have babies with. Assuming he could. He really didn't know if Hydra had done anything to affect his fertility. He didn't really want to know. For now, the 2 of you and Alpine was enough though.
That was what he wanted to celebrate, and he wanted to celebrate it by staying in with you. Just you, take out, tv or movies. Then, of course he planned to cash in his birthday points on dirty noise-complaint-getting loud sex. Some people may think it sounded boring, other than the sex part maybe, but that was exactly what he loved about it. 
You could see him planning out the evening he really wanted in his mind. He always joked about not wanting anyone else in his head, but he did love that you seemed to be able to read his mind. 
"What if I tell Sam that we are having a party and he just isn't invited? That it's a party just for two. Just you and me. I'll even let you pick dinner." 
He pretended to think about it as he walked over to the side of the couch you were on. Reaching across the arm of the sofa to help you up onto your knees so he could wrap his arms around your waist. Letting yourself slide up his muscular chest and link behind his neck. A mischievous smile curled up on his lips.
"I like the sound of that. I do still want cake though. Are you planning any party games?" 
You nodded at his request. Oh you were planning on cake, ice cream, whipped cream, chocolate syrup. Basically, any sort of dessert that could be enjoyed in both appropriate and inappropriate ways. 
"Well cake is a given of course. I'm sure we can find all sorts of creative ways to enjoy it too. As far as games, I do have a couple things in mind. Tell me how do you feel about naked Twister?"
He grabbed your waist a little tighter and growled a little at the idea of the two of you bent into all sorts of compromising positions. His blood starting to rush to his groin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. 
"You know, I may need a little practice. Why don't we have a little practice party right now? Just so I know what to expect on my birthday." 
You smiled and shook your head at him, he knew you were a sucker for that look he got when he was feeling frisky. The crooked little grin, the way he would bite his lip, and the way his pretty blue eyes would sparkle. It was like your lips were pulled to his by a magnet. Moving closer on their own volition. 
Not that you mind of course. Your thoughts had already been in the gutter from watching Bucky strut around the house in those tight boxer briefs. Now you knew his was there too. The feeling of his bulge hardening against you, confirming that and making you wiggle your hips in anticipation.
He pulled back so his lips were barely touching yours, eliciting a needy little whine from you. You wanted more of him. You always wanted more of him. His hands started to slide down your low back to cup your ass cheeks, bending his knees a little so he could get a firm hold on you. 
"Mmm, can smell you, babydoll. You smell so good. Know you taste even better though. Taste even sweeter than that birthday cake will. I want a taste, baby girl."
He almost effortlessly scooped you up off the couch, your legs quickly swinging to wrap around his waist. Alpine had abandoned the couch to go hide under the table the minute you two started getting lovey. So without fear of stepping on her tail he practically sprinted to your shared bedroom, plopping you down unceremoniously onto the bed before lunging so he was on top of you. 
His lips hurried back to connect with yours in a frenzy of playful, passion filled kisses. Letting your hands wander up and down each others bodies, rubbing and touching any bit you could grab. Slowly working to get your hand down to rub over his cock. Straining against the soft fabric of his underwear. Still getting harder as you massaged him. 
You pulled your lips away from his so you could admire his cock in your hand. Even though it was still hidden behind the dark fabric, you couldn't help the way you licked your lips and moaned at the sight. He was just so perfect and thick. You knew the serum hadn't changed his height and size near as dramatically as Steve, but it did effect his muscle mass. You had a little bit of a hope that it had made his cock this thick. Otherwise those girls in the 40's wouldn't have survived.
"Starting to think you might be a little obsessed with my cock, babydoll." 
He teased you as he started kissing and sucking at your neck. Letting you enjoy your view as he let his hips occasionally roll and rut into your hand. You hummed in agreement as he began teasing his vibranium hand up and under your shirt. 
"Can't help it, baby. It's just so fucking perfect and big. Fills me up so good. So much better than any of my toys. Plus I kinda love the man it's attached to." 
He nuzzled his face into your neck before you felt him grin against your skin. He whispered an "I love you too baby…". Suddenly moving quickly and knocking your balance out from you as he in one smooth move threw off the shirt you were wearing and rushing to get your panties off just as fast. Leaving you suddenly naked underneath him. 
"... I'm also kind of obsessed with this pretty pussy. So I guess we're even." 
His body dropping to the bed and your legs thrown over his shoulders as he descended on you. Wet kisses along the crease of your inner thigh, just shy of where you desperately wanted his lips. Jumping to the other side and letting his warm breath dance across your dripping sex.
You could feel his bright blue eyes on you as he placed his first long lick up your slit. Making sure to cover every inch from your tight light hole up to your clit. Stopping to place several small kisses and kitten licks on the bundle of nerves. Hearing your breath already starting to falter.
Bucky loved eating you out. It wasn't something he remembered doing more than maybe once or twice before you, and he can't remember enjoying it nearly as much back then as he did now. Maybe he was more selfish back then. Maybe those women had just been less secure and open about what felt good. Women being so vocal about enjoying sex was pretty taboo in his day, but the way you reacted to his mouth on you made him obsessed. 
Each time you moaned as swirled his tongue around your clit. Each time you would grind against his face as he thrust his tongue inside you. Each time you would pull his hair as rubbed his whole face farther into your wet cunt. It all made him want to spend the rest of his life wirh his head between your thighs. Not even caring that he usually ended up so worked up he would start humping the mattress underneath him in an unconscious effort by his cock to get some sort of attention. 
He didn't even want to stop after he heard you whine and moan his name when you came. Why would he stop when he had the opportunity to lick up even more of your sweet nectar from your orgasm? No, he only stopped when he had his fill of  feasting on your cunt and your cum. Leaving you teetering on the edge of overstimulation. 
"Definitely my favorite treat. Hell fuck the cake, I just want your pussy as my birthday treat. What you think, doll? Can I have your pretty slutty little cunt as my birthday present? Can I eat it and play with it and fuck it whenever and however I want?" 
By now he started working his way back up your body as you clung to sheets arching into his mouth as he moved. Pressing your breasts against his face as he reached your chest. Greedily encouraging him to take one of your nipples into his mouth as his metal fingers pinched at the other. The contrast of his warm mouth and the cool vibranium making your skin prickle into goosebumps. 
After switching sides, making sure to give both perky pebbled nipples the attention they deserved, he made it back up to your lips. Kissing you once before nipping at your lower lip playfully. 
You had already wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull his pelvis to yours. Your fingers now tangled and tugging at the fabric of his boxer briefs trying to get them down. Desperately trying to get his cock free so you could feel him against your still soaked and needy cunt. 
"I'm waiting for an answer baby, tell me and then I'll take these off. Fuck you nice and hard. Can I have your perfect tight little hole as my birthday present? I want to spend my party making you scream and cum all over my cock." 
The sound of his filthy birthday wish pulled a deep groan from your chest. You wanted to spend his party doing that too, and what the birthday boy wants the birthday boy gets. You let your body go lax so he would be able to easily position you however he wanted you as you answered. 
"Yes, Bucky, holy fuck yes! My pussy is all yours, birthday boy. Use it however you want, James. All for you." 
"That's my good girl." 
He got back up on his knees and shimmied his underwear down and kicking them off. You eyes glued to his cock before it even sprung free from the fabric. A whimper falling from your mouth when a dribble of pre-cum dripped from his swollen flushed cockhead onto your low belly. A string of fluid running from his cock and starting to make a mess on you. He knew by the look in your eyes that he had you in the palm of his hand. So you promptly obliged when he told you what he wanted next. 
"Spread your legs farther, babydoll. Pull them back and hold onto your ankles for me. I want to see every little bit of my present." 
Quickly you worked to fold yourself in half as best as you could. Opening you up even more to Bucky’s gaze. His eyes raking over your body as be stroked his length a few times. Stopping only when you started to wiggle your hips, trying to urge him to touch you.
"Impatient, aren't you baby?" 
His tongue darting out to lick his lips, still swollen for having his face buried in your pussy, before a faux pout crossed his face. Cooing lightly at you as he started slapping his cock on your sensitive cunt. 
"God you look so fucking good when you get all needy for my cock baby. Saw you get that look in your eyes earlier. Knew that smart little brain had stopped thinking of everything but my cock. It's all yours baby." 
He placed his tip at your entrance and slowly started to push his hips forward. Sliding himself into you one inch at a time. Letting you feel every little bit of stretch he gave you. The feeling making you both moan in pleasure. Stilling in place once he had bottomed out inside you. 
"Fuck darlin', that's the prettiest thing I've ever seen. Look so beautiful getting fucked with my bare cock baby."
You gave him a seductive look and bit your lip. 
"Happy early birthday baby." 
With that, he gingerly drug his hands from the backs of your heels all the way down to the backs of your thighs. Gripping onto the flesh there and bracing you for his next move. Bucky slowly started to pull his hips back and started building speed with his first thrust back in. 
A feral look in his eyes as he watched where his cock was impaling you. Hypnotized by the sight. The image of your pussy stretched tight around his cock. The way his cock shined, wet with your arousal. It tipped him over the edge when he started hearing the wet squelch of your pussy as he thrust into you spurring him on to fuck you harder. 
The headboard starting to thump against the wall under the force of Bucky’s thrusts. A litany of swears falling from both of you. Your moans and squeaks as he pounded you accented by the sound of his full balls slapping against your ass. Each of you getting closer to climax with each sound the other made.
When he could feel his balls starting to tighten and he knew he was close to blowing, he let his flesh hand dip to rub at your clit. Smearing your wetness around to make his action smoother.  
After a moment of him touching your clit he found the perfect speed and spot. Feeling the fire start burning in your belly you let your eyes roll back in your head. 
"Oh fuck Bucky, right there! Don't stop, baby please don't stop!" 
His hips only sped up even more at your reaction. 
"Oh don't worry, dollface. I'm not stopping until I make a mess in my birthday present. You want that babydoll? You want to cum in you pretty girl? Let me hear it baby." 
Few things could throw you over the edge quite like Bucky when he talked dirty. It fueled that fire in your belly and sent it boiling over. As you came undone on his cock you practically cried for him to cum inside you. Your pussy squeezing and fluttering around his cock, practically milking him.
"James!!! Cum in me please, fuck I'm cumming for you baby. God you make me cum so good. It's your pussy daddy. Fuck it and fill it please, please!" 
By the time you had finished cumming, you felt his cock start to throb as he climaxed. Your body still jerking from your own orgasm with each stream of cum you felt him shoot into you until you were nearly overflowing. 
After a few minutes of basking in each other's afterglow, Bucky eventually pulled out of you with a groan and rolled over. Promptly grabbing you up in his arms again and pulling you over to cuddle. Pressing kisses into your hair as you drew little patterns on his chest. 
"If this is what I can expect for my birthday party, then happy birthday to me indeed." 
You gave him a wicked grin as you looked up at him. 
"Oh no, Buck, this was just practice. Remember? Your actual birthday party is going to be even more fun."
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churipu · 4 months
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HAIIII IPIN !!!!!!! can i request gojo, geto, and nanami (separate) having a gf that's really optimistic? just someone who sees the good in everything and anything, and positive at all times! thank SOOOO much !!!!
JJK MEN + OPTIMISTIC GIRLFRIEND
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featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento x fem! reader
warning. people being mean to u >:(
note. HAIIII ANONN!!! i love this request bcs sometimes i read books, mangas, watch movies, you name 'em and see a certain character having the most positive mindset and i just go must protecc >:( anyways, thank you anon for requesting just after i opened the request box, istg i love all your ideas so much it makes me feel full <;33
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GOJO SATORU. absolutely hates the way you try to see the good in people — specifically people who have hurt your feelings in the past. he just wonders what goes on in your mind to just forgive and forget everyone who has wronged you.
you did. but not him.
"baby, that guy called you names when you were in high school!" gojo whines, laying down on the bed, draping an arm over your torso, "why are you still willing to meet him?"
"satoru, he said he was sorry!" you smiled at him, tracing his features softly — the male grumbled but leaned into your touch, "and plus it's not nice to hold grudges, it's been what? how many years?"
a loud whine escapes his throat as he pulled you close, "it doesn't matter how many years it has been, he still hurt your feelings. and nobody does that to my baby," he said, miffed.
you couldn't help but to chuckle, "well, you are coming along, so i have nothing to worry about."
the male grins, "damn right i am coming, he better sleep with one eye open starting from now," gojo threatens.
gojo just cannot wrap his head around your concept of "forgive-and-forget" because you never hold grudges, you forget everything and still talk to people who've wronged you, and you still have the heart to accept them.
as much as people say "forgive and forget", they end up at least holding the tiniest bit of grudge — or even a bigger grudge, right? but you? you don't. you actually forgive and forget.
well — thankfully, not him. he takes his job to protect you seriously, from any kind of harm, including monsters (people who were mean to you) both in the past, present, and possibly the future.
"baby, can you stop hanging out with that one girl? the one who always wears the purple colored eye-shadow?" he asks you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
"hm? why?"
"i don't like the vibe she gives out. it's giving...well...cruella de vil." he murmurs into your neck, nuzzling his nose in content as you went on with your skincare routine.
"satoru," you mumbled, "you can't just judge her by her vibes."
he groans, "but baby, i swear i could just feel it! she's evil," he whispers in your ear.
"satoru."
"okay, fine. just tell me if she does anything to you, i'll give her a piece of my mind (hollow purple)." he mutters out, pouting and upset as you brushed his speculations off.
GETO SUGURU. he loves it and hates it at the same time. geto loves how positive you are against the world — and what more does he need, really? it's you and him against the world at this point, although he feels like he doesn't contribute much to your positive energy (that's what he thinks).
geto thinks of himself as a pretty negative person. and you know. the both of you had a lot of deep talks about everything, including what you both had in mind. and honestly, geto wasn't surprised if he hears you talking about how your life was going smoothly; and his was just a contradiction to what you have.
it's life, people come and go. but geto seemed skeptical of that term, why couldn't people come and stay? he finds it hard to believe that you could be the one leaving him at anytime of the day, and the thought just terrifies the male.
the death of amanai put a hole in his mind that couldn't be closed off, and it fucking scarred him. but you were there for him, you didn't sugar coat words or tell him white lies — you tell him everything, straight to his face, and your choices of words made him feel loved. what else could he ask for?
"'m sorry," he mutters into your shoulder, and his voice comes out a bit muffled.
you brushed his nape gently, "it's alright sugu, you know you don't have to apologize for being sad, right?" you tell him, pressing a kiss onto the side of his head, "it's okay to be a little sad."
sometimes he asks himself if he really deserved you or not. but at the end of the day; you always convince him that he deserved it.
geto hates your optimism sometimes because he watches people trample over you and you brush them off with a smile, it makes him feel angry. he asks himself why you were doing this to yourself? believe me when he tried asking you to try talking back, or putting up a fight.
"angel, you know it makes me kind of sad that you'd let people talk to you that way," he said to you, grazing his finger over your cheek gently.
you shot him a gentle smile, "'ts okay sugu, what good do i get from arguing back to them, really?"
he just pulls you into his embrace, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, saying nothing. god, he just wanted to protect you from the world — why does everyone have to be so fucking mean to you?
"will you be mad if i tell them off for you?" he asks
"depends on your methods, tell me about it."
"threatening them. if it doesn't work, violence." he mutters out briefly.
"sugu, no."
NANAMI KENTO. he doesn't mind it, he finds you endearing, really. a cat getting hurt? he'll accompany you to the vet with it. or a child crying because of a fall? he'll watch you help them without any single thoughts behind.
he just loves how selfless you are. nanami once read a quote, "when given the choice between being right or being kind, choose kind." and every time he sees a selfless act from you — he just kinds of chanted it in his mind, and tell you what, nanami is such a proud boyfriend.
nanami loves how you see the good in everything, a person spilled their food on you? you tell them mistakes happen. a person bumping into you and then blaming you for it? you tell them you're sorry and thought that maybe they just had a really bad day.
but sometimes he couldn't help but to worry over you — someone so positive, bubbly, and optimistic around people who (probably) have disgusting minds. when he's not around to keep an eye on you, he just worries that someone might took advantage of your kindness and throw it out the window.
and he wouldn't be there to stop it from happening.
"ken, i'm going to go out for a hang out. it's fine, i've got my friends with me!" god, the jitters that he gets whenever you mention your friends — he was never really fond of the friends you have now, especially since they were trying hard to earn his attention. he knows they were just using you.
the texts they sent to him behind your back, the shit-talking about you, and everything else. god, he wanted to tell you about it; but he just didn't have the heart to, because he knows it will break your heart.
although nanami told them off quite rudely, defending you — it baffled him to how they still try to hang out with you with no shame after. and he tried telling you about how he doesn't like them, but you tell him it was fine.
"may i come along then?" just the thought of leaving you alone with those people pisses him off to the core, if he can't stop you from being friends with them — he will be with you.
when you agreed, he made it his job to expose them as nicely as he could. and he succeeded, oh the ecstasy he felt when you finally told them you didn't feel like hanging out with them anymore.
(and he ended up showing you the texts).
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© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !
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capricornlevi · 4 months
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no surprises - toji x reader
wc 1.6k - hitman!toji x mobwife!reader, fem!reader, strangers to lovers -dark elements (but not really related to sex -- toji breaks into reader's house to assassinate mob husband), cheating (technically -- reader's husband is a piece of shit lol)
nsfw, mdni
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Toji hates it when his hits have wives or girlfriends.
As cruel a bastard as he may be, the thought of unnecessary collateral makes him uneasy to say the least. It's messy, too, unnecessary and uncomfortable. When one of his targets has a wife there's a sure guarantee she'll be by his side more often than not. It increases the risk for all parties, whether they know of their involvement or not.
He wonders why these men never have the decency to get a divorce before involving themselves in shit like this.
And so, as he carefully picks the lock to your kitchen window, he hopes that tonight's job is clean. That you'll stay out of his way.
Kill the guy, clean up, and ideally, get out without even waking you.
So imagine his surprise when he makes his way inside as planned, turns down the hallway to get to the bedroom he's so carefully mapped this past week, only to find you standing pyjama-clad in the hallway with arms crossed, looking at him with an expression one could only describe as inconvenienced.
"He's not here," you mumble, the words laced with sleep but still pointed.
Toji prides himself on being quick on his feet, but in this rare instance, he's lost for words. He doesn't even draw his weapon.
"Uh ... hm ... what?" he finally decides, though the words leave him without much active decision-making on his part, spilling out into the cold night air.
"He's not here," you repeat, enunciating each word slowly. "Did you not hear me? Though that would explain why you made such a fucking racket breaking in."
"What the fuck-"
"And you're replacing that lock, by the way," you spit, eyes heated with frustration as you give him a once over. "I heard you give up and break it."
Toji's head could explode right here and now. How has this ... this cannot be happening ... he's carried out hits numbering in the three digits, and not one target has ever seen him coming, much less the wife of some low-ranking gangster who stole the wrong amount of money from the wrong people.
Still, you don't shy away from him, keeping your gaze fixed on his increasingly confused face.
"What do ya mean he isn't here?" Toji huffs then, finally realising the futility of this situation. Standing there stupidly isn't going to improve his image, he needs to cut to the chase. "Is he out?"
You huff a laugh. "You could say that."
He arches a scarred brow. "He's dead?"
"May as well be," you answer plainly, devoid of any sympathy or grief. "Kicked him out on Sunday. Tried to steal my engagement ring and then went after my parents, mumbling some shit about collecting their life insurance policy even though the idiot isn't even named on it. So I made a call and the name of his hotel is with your bosses now."
"Then why didn't they--"
You roll your eyes, exasperated. "How should I know? They probably sent some other guys to the hotel and kept you here in case that worm came wriggling back."
Toji's not sure why, but he believes you -- probably because of the unafraid, unemotional manner in which you're delivering this information. As though you're a teacher scolding him for a failed assignment.
He releases his grip on the weapon tucked at his hip -- he doesn't even remember at which point he went to grab it -- silently swearing at a wasted evening.
Sure, he'll still get the flat rate for a call-out like this one, but if he has proof of death he gets triple pay. He could really use that this month; he likes having his lights stay on for longer than forty-eight hours at a time, and figured tonight would've been an easy job, particularly with how stupidly your husband has been acting these last few months.
"Uh ... okay. Sorry for inconveniencin' ya," he mumbles, figuring it best to leave now without wasting either of your time any further.
He could stay here and argue more, but he's not in the mood. He needs to get back. Plus, he's already disrupted your night enough -- as curtly as you've addressed him these past few minutes, he can't say he doesn't see where your frustration is coming from.
In this short interaction, he's developed a sort of begrudging respect for this woman who views an assassination attempt in the same way most would view a parking ticket.
"Wait!" you call out just as he turns around. He hesitates -- though you don't seem like the type to call the police given your knowledge of your husband's business.
Maybe you're not finished giving him shit for this embarrassment of a botched assignment?
"Yeah?" he answers dutifully, brushing his hair from his eyes with a tired swipe of his hand, turning back to face you.
"Want to have a drink with me?" you ask straight-forwardly, arms still crossed and expression unmoving. "He left his 20-year whiskey behind, and I haven't had new company since he weaselled his way into my life."
"I-"
"If you've nothing better to do, anyway."
This woman ...
He has never had as difficult a time reading someone in his entire lie.
"Well?" you press, a hint of impatience growing in that beautiful voice. "What do you want to do?"
Surprise once against takes precedence over any other emotion in Toji's body.
Tonight couldn't get any weirder. He's sure of it.
Except it definitely can, as he discovers just thirty minutes later, with you sitting atop him as he's spread out on your bed, riding him so hard the bed rattles against the wall.
This is a little fucked up. You both know it. He came here to kill your husband, but it's so hard for him to care about minor details like that when he sees how your tits bounce with every thrust upwards, how your face looks when it's torn in pleasure.
Your husband is a bigger idiot than he thought.
You haven't been touched like this in a long time, haven't had someone's hands on you like you deserve, and that thought enrages him for some reason.
His focus for tonight has shifted entirely. He's no longer out to kill, to hurt, his one responsibility is to make you cry out on his cock, on his tongue, on his fingers, until both of your voices are worn out and hoarse.
You're so pretty like this, so responsive to every twirl of his thumb and jerk of his hips.
Though -- and he hates to admit it -- you're exerting some control over him as well. His well-worn self-discipline is being tested like never before. On your couch just a few minutes ago, with his mouth spread against you and your leg tossed over his shoulder, you had managed to then manoeuvre yourself until your fist was wrapped around his cock, your pretty fingers stroking him until his breaths sounded choked and desperate, until a flush spread up his chest to his neck and jawline.
He had to still your wrist to keep from coming all over his own chest. That would lose him any shred of credibility he had left.
He's obsessed with the way you kiss him, too, so hungry and desperate with no sign of that earlier unshakability you possessed. He's sure you still have yourself in some semblance of control -- though he barely knows you, he knows you wouldn't relent that quickly -- but you release yourself a little, sinking into it with a quiet moan that sends ripples up his spine.
And now, with your hips sitting flush against his own, it's hard to imagine caring about a single other thing than the sight of his cock disappearing inside you.
You take him so well, every inch of him, knowing exactly what to say to drive him insane. In turn, he learns what he can from your reactions, each microexpression showing him how you like to be touched.
You toss your head back, that beautiful throat gulping down gasps of air in between cries of Toji's name, shoulders tight with the tension of keeping yourself seated on him.
He gives you more when you ask for it, pumping up into you and relishing the answering groans and mewls of pleasure.
(Honestly, he'd give you anything you wanted from him. He'd give you the shirt off his back if you requested it with those pretty doe eyes and your lips curled into that sly little smile.)
A familiar heat curls in his stomach but in a way he's entirely unfamiliar with; usually, it builds slowly and reliably, bit by bit, but this time it rises erratically and without any sign of when he's approaching the edge.
This is dangerous. You're dangerous for him, you have him in the palm of your hand and hold the ability to crush him into tiny pieces if you so wish. It scares him while also sending pulses of pleasure straight to his cock, coupled with the feeling of your throbbing clit as he circles it with his thumb --
Thankfully, you fall apart at the same time, spasms of pleasure overtaking every single thought in either of your heads.
As you settle into the afterglow, Toji is in no rush to move you or shift himself. He runs a roughened hand over your thigh, the skin smooth as silk, marvelling at how you shiver under the touch.
He just looks up at you, that hint of confusion from earlier still present but accompanied by something else.
Strange, he thinks to himself. Not a wasted evening after all.
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