#this is making him sound a lot more devious than i intended | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkworkcourier · 1 year

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A day late, but have a little festive follow-up to this fic. ;D

Words: 4476 Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (reader code named Ladybird)

Contains some naughty business in the bath, oral, good ol' missionary, a little tiny bit of cockwarming, and soap being ladybird's bestie again.

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It’s half past seven in the evening. You’re up to your neck in honeysuckle-scented bubbles, right ankle propped up on the faucet, stomach comfortably filled with döner and champagne. Eyes closed, shoulders still pleasantly aching from your two o’clock massage, you prop your phone between your jaw and shoulder and say, “No, it’s been awful,” with the perfect amount of high drama. “The room’s tiny, no laundry, nearest restaurant is like a half mile away. I’ve never been so miserable in my life.”

“I call bullshit,” Soap says into your ear.

“Nothing to call bullshit on. If you want to trade places—”

He snorts, and you hear the clatter of pans in the background. “And put up with him when he’s like this? Bet me the fuck not.”

You play coy. “Like what?”

“Wound up like an eight-day clock,” Soap replies. You hear the hiss of a faucet, and then the distant chatter of what you guess is a hoard of family members. “Sexually frustrated.”

Someone in the background asks, “Who’s sexually frustrated?” in a mirror of Soap’s accent.

“You, ya reprobate,” Soap retorts in good humor.

You grin and tilt your right foot a little, idly wondering if you should schedule a pedicure. “Tell your brother I said hi.”

“My friend says ye sound like a bampot,” Soap dutifully reports.

“Soap!”

“It’s a nice thing in Scotland, Ladybird.”

“You know it’s not.”

He laughs, as does his brother. At the same time, you hear the hotel room door open, causing you to smile immediately. It should alarm you how easily you've fallen into this, all smitten and ridiculous. When the bathroom door opens, it takes a hell of a lot of self control not to just hoist yourself out of the tub—soaked, slippery, and naked—and launch yourself right into Simon's arms (or potentially trip and slide into them). Instead, like a normal person, you glance over your shoulder while staying very much in place.

Simon pokes his head in, hair mussed from his beanie, N95 pulled down below his chin. He furrows his brow and mouths, 'Who?' while making a phone gesture with his pinky and thumb.

You point to the bar of (French-milled, lavender-scented, luxury) soap next to your elbow, and he nods in understanding, disappearing back around the door frame. For one foolish second, you think you're safe.

"Alright, so aside from being in a hovel, how is it?" Soap asks.

You turn your attention back to the phone call, stretching your legs out and propping your left ankle on the edge of the tub. It slides a little on the wet marble. "I mean, I get into the bath and come out dirtier, if that gives you any idea."

"Mhmm." He sounds unconvinced. "And the mission?"

Shit. Right. "Y'know," you start, voice pitching higher than you intended. "It's... going."

The bathroom door opens again. You let your guard down, which is one of the classic blunders. Biting down on your bottom lip, you resolutely do not look at Simon slinking into the room like a devious cat.

"Yeah, sounds like you're workin' real hard there," Soap says, completely unaware that Simon's kneeling down beside the bathtub, his jacket discarded in favor of a black t-shirt (his favorite Six Feet Back or Six Feet Down shirt, complete with plague doctor).

Do not look at him. Do not make eye contact. The second you make eye contact, it's over. He's like a sleeper agent.

"I mean, we've gotten more intel in the past few days than we have since this all started," you say, keeping your voice steady even as you see an arm slide into your periphery, following the line of the tub. "Ask Price."

Fingers dangerously close to the water line. You watch them, glaring.

"Don't need to," Soap replies. At the same time, you hear the high-pitched shriek of a kid tackling another. He groans. "Also, I take it back. Trade places wi' me."

He might not want that at the moment, right when Simon's hand slides into the water, disappearing wrist-deep in bubbles, fingers finding your left thigh right away. Finally, you do look at him, since looking away doesn't seem to work. The bastard has the au-fucking-dacity to look bored, like this is just another part of his mission, a box to tick on his to-do list. Scope out Berlin, follow a money trail, chit-chat with some KSK insertion specialist, get dinner, feel up the girlfriend.

In a clumsy motion, you manage to mute yourself long enough to hiss at him, "Don't you dare, Riley."

"Don't I dare what?"

"Ladybird?"

To quote the man feeling you up, fuckin' hell.

"Sorry. Yeah. I'm here," you say, leaving a smeared fingerprint on your phone screen. "I'm, uh, trying to multitask."

"Multitask? On what, exactly?"

"On—" Simon's hand lazily glides over your inner thigh like he has nothing better to do. You swallow hard. "On my report for Laswell," comes your very pathetic answer. (Simon snorts in disbelief.) You have maybe six words total on that report, and none of them are informative. "Trying to do that and figure out my laundry situation at the same time."

"Uh-huuuh," Soap drawls out. Another kid screeches in the background, and you hear his brother (who sounds alarmingly like him) bark something that sounds a lot like 'don't make me go in there'.

"Yeah," you say, as Simon's index finger finds your slit, tracing up and down the length of it while he props his opposite elbow on the edge of the tub, resting his chin on his palm. "It's, uh, tedious."

And you hear the realization. You know Simon and Soap are friends by the shared rate in which the reach epiphanies. "Gotcha," he says. "Should I leave you to it?"

Oooh, he sounds way too smug.

"I mean, talking to you really is the highli-i-ight of my day!" you reply, the long vowel of 'highlight' catching on an upward stroke of Simon's fingers that nearly sends you right out of the tub. And Simon, son of a bitch-in-chief, snickers.

So does Soap. Because these men operate on a wavelength that transcends time and distance. "Right. Is this a bad time to ask if you're still plannin' on comin' up for Hogmanay?"

"What'd he say?" Simon mutters close to your other ear, low enough that Soap can't hear him.

You mouth 'Hogmanay' before biting your lip when the tip of his index finger brushes over your clit, sending a jolt through you that disturbs the bath water. He shakes his head, giving you the worst attempt at a wide-eyed innocent look, seeing as how he can't accomplish it even if he tried.

"Didn't catch that, sweetheart. Wanna put him on speaker?"

"Fucker," you hiss. Against your better judgment, you do as he asks, tapping the speaker icon and setting the phone down on the opposite side of the bathtub. It's out of the danger zone of you dropping it as Simon's fingers do terrible, horrible things to you in your time of vulnerability. "Soap, can you repeat that? You cut out for a sec."

He either laughs or coughs, and it's hard to tell which. "S'askin' if you two were still planning on comin' t' Hogmanay, or if this Berlin thing was gonna take up the rest of yer time."

"Of course we're still going," you reply, right as your legs betray your brain and spread to give Simon more room. "W-wouldn't miss it for anything!"

A long pause. A long, long pause. Then, "Ghost?"

"Yeah, Johnny."

Damnit.

"You coming, too? Or is Ladybird finally gonna come to her senses and ditch you to run away wi' me?"

Simon mutters, "Oh, she'll come alright," into your ear as his middle finger joins his index, drawing heinous circles around your clit while you try not to moan.

"What was that?"

"I said yeah, I'll be there."

"Ah, more's the pity," Soap says mournfully. "A'right. Try not tae keep her up too late, ya mongrel."

"Copy that, Sergeant."

You hear the tinny, percussive sound of something hitting a solid object with alarming volume, and then the squeal of, "Uncle Johnnyyyy! Throw it back!"

Your turn to snicker, even as Simon is being a monster. "G'night, Soap."

Soap gives an exhausted and resigned, "Gooood night and happy holidays, Ladybird. Don't let the bed bugs bite, or give you too many hickeys."

Bastards. All of them. Every single one.

You gratefully end the call, your head falling back to the rim of the tub and that hidden moan finally coming to the surface. "You are the worst," you tell Simon, although each word comes out unfairly sexually-charged.

He looks thoughtful, even as his fingers start teasing your opening. "That's not what you usually say."

"Usually you're not trying to f-finger me in the middle of a-a..." He picks up the pace in the middle of your sentence. You shudder, head rolling toward him, your glare losing its heat. "A fuckin' phone call," is the end result, and the last word is lost in a sigh.

"You don't sound that angry about it," he points out.

No, because you love him and he knows it. He knows that you look at him like the sun rises on one shoulder and sets on the other, and that he looks at you the same way (when he thinks you're not watching). And he knows that maybe, deep down, you kind of get off on the shit he likes to pull.

"I will be angry if you try fingering me underwater," you say. "Water's not lube."

"I wasn't gonna try," he replies. "Figured I'd get you riled up first."

You squint at him, bottom lip pouting out. "The worst," you reiterate.

He leans forward and presses a kiss to your temple. "You like it."

"Wash my hair and I'll like you more."

His hand retreats, to both your frustration and relief. He draws it out of the mountain of bubbles, wiping it off on the bathmat. He's out of your peripheral for one second, a low hum reaching your ears and reverberating down your spine. "The sea salt one or the— whatever the pink one is?"

"Argan oil, and yes to that."

"Spoiled," he says, and while your knee-jerk reaction is to refute that claim, you immediately agree with it the second his fingers touch your scalp.

---

You had plans in Berlin. Nightlife plans, even. There were all manner of shows, concerts, clubs, scenic walks, and nighttime river cruises you could have enjoyed. Those plans, like the ones you had for tonight, got ditched mid-flight the moment Simon had any kind of say.

You can't find it in you to complain. Not while he's between your legs, eating you out like dinner earlier didn't sate him. He fucks you on his fingers, his thrusts matching pace with the quick flicks of his tongue, his dark eyes finding yours in the amber-warm light of the bedside lamp.

You're propped up on a small mountain of stupidly soft pillows, back arching, toes curled into the high thread count sheets. One hand's in his hair, pulling him closer, closer— Anything, any possible means of getting off and finally breaking the tension he's carefully and mercilessly built up inside of you. You're practically fucking yourself on his face, and he looks perfectly at peace with this.

When you do finally come, it's beautiful. It's every neon and LED light you're missing in Berlin, every firework launched over a park, every star in the December night sky. You shudder, twitch, spasm against and on him— Hell, around him as he fucks you through it, coaxing out every last vestige of pleasure on the tips of his talented fingers.

You only realize you're practically suffocating the man with your cunt when you finally let his hair go and he jerks back and gasps. In turn, you gasp, fingers flying up to your mouth as he wipes his face on his arm.

"Holy shit, Simon, I am so sorry," you pant, trying to get your own breathing under control.

"No, no. Don't be," he says, swallowing hard, mouth hidden behind his wrist. "That's exactly how I wanna die when the time comes."

He would say that, but you're still mortified that you accidentally tried to kill him in the name of an orgasm.

At least it's an easy synaptic jump to make in order to think of a way to make it up to him. He lays down beside you—a pretty close mimic of that first time in your room back at base, that first round of tentative touches and vague understandings of each others' bodies. One arm goes around your shoulders, pulling you close to him, letting your head rest against his sweat-damp chest. To your credit, you give him more than a half second of warning before your hand is on his dick.

More like two seconds. That's being generous.

Still propped up on him, you start moving your hand in long, languid strokes. He stills, but you can hear his normally steady heartbeat quicken. Simon ditched the half-protests of 'no, you don't have to' and 'I don't expect it every time' a long time ago, but you still feel that hesitance, the slight shift in his body like he wants to tell you that he's fine; you're not contractually required to pleasure him. You know he wants it, though. That's enough of a reason.

What he doesn't anticipate is you sliding down the length of his body, rolling over a little until your arm and torso bracket one (unfairly muscular) thigh, your hand curled around the girth of his cock, lips brushing the underside. This time, you look up at him, finding his half-lidded, lust-glazed eyes under furrowed brows.

(Once, you like to remember, you did something like this after a mission. He didn't bother to take the mask off, and so you looked up at a grinning skull, greasepaint, and bloodshot eyes from thirty-four sleepless hours. It took so long to get enough gear out of the way in order to pull him out of his pants, but it was worth it to watch him go boneless under your touch. Worth it still when he absolutely passed out afterward.)

Simon's body language doesn't always give everything away. You're trained in the art of watching his tells and cues, the subtle dance between muscle spasms and eye movements, reading out a whole play of emotions that he's trained to hide. He doesn't flinch or tremble when you touch him like this, or when your mouth finally engulfs the head of his cock, tasting the salt tang of precum on the tip. But you do see his abdomen tighten, the way he braces for a punch to the torso.

He braces for you, and what a fucking ego trip that is.

Spurred on by this, you swallow him down as far as you can, until your jaw aches and your throat protests. By mutual agreement, you never take him down to the hilt. He doesn't want you mimicking outlandish porn scenarios with the idea that it would make him happy. Instead, you do what you know for a fact he likes.

Your tongue moves slowly, pressing up under his cockhead, swirling around it, tasting the slit at the tip. You bob your head slowly, savoring the taste and texture of him, the warmth radiating off his body as his breath hitches and he grunts. When you watch him, you see tightness at the corners of his eyes, the way he keeps catching his bottom lip under his teeth and letting it go over and over.

He's awful at making noise, even though you've told him how much you love hearing his sounds. He's got a lifetime worth of experience in keeping quiet at all costs—turning it into an instinct—and so you learned that what sounds he gives you, you've earned.

So he does moan. It's soft, subdued, but the vibration goes through you and makes you wet all anew. It's followed by a soft rasp of breath, and the sight of him fisting the sheets by his hips in a white-knuckled grip. When you swallow him down again, right hand twisting the base of his cock, left hand under his thigh, you feel him shudder and tense.

"Wai— Wait," he manages. Holy shit, you knocked the breath out of him.

You pause, cock still halfway in your mouth. Now it's your turn to tease him, looking up at him with wide eyes and the exact ploy of innocence. He can't play innocent worth a damn, but you've got it down to an art.

"Mm?" you hum around him, and earn another shudder for your trouble.

His expression makes it look like he's working through a particularly difficult puzzle—a jigsaw with no corner pieces. "I wanna... Fuckin' hell, I don't wanna finish like this."

Reluctantly, and with deliberate slowness, you draw your head back enough that his cock slides out of your mouth and smears a small streak of precum along your left cheek. "Oh?" you say, feigning like you simply have no idea what he's insinuating. No, sir.

And like he has a tendency to do, you tilt your head so your right cheek rests against his thigh. You can see the moment he catches what you're doing, a pinch forming between his brows as his brain fights to stay online.

"You... Ah, fuck," he tries, raking a hand through his hair and causing some of it to stand on end. He'd hate to hear you say it, but it's adorable. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, get up here."

"Can't talk about him like that so close to his birthday," you joke, but you follow directions to the letter, hoisting yourself up and slowly dragging yourself across his thighs and abdomen. Your breasts brush over his chest, making him hiss between his teeth. Then you straddle his lap, enjoying the sight of the flushed, hard line of his cock against your thigh. You resolutely do not touch him, even though the temptation is there. He's teased you enough over time, and even though the blowjob was to make up for almost murdering him, you still need to get a little revenge for him trying to make you drop your phone in the bath.

You look up and see him staring back at you, pupils dilated, bottom lip dark from biting, chest heaving. He's the image of sexual frustration (and Soap's words come back to you at the worst moment)—a little bit debauched, a little bit divine.

He doesn't say anything, simply reaching up and resting a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You taste yourself on him, and you wonder if he tastes himself on your tongue. He holds you there, kissing you in a way that feels utterly molten, a long-lasting burn that you're sure he's sustained all day. When he finally does release you, you feel like you were the one deprived of air, suffocating in his need.

His hand moves from your neck to your face, thumb brushing along the ridge of your cheekbone. He leans in once more to kiss you firmly, and you lean back into him entirely.

Forget teasing. You love this man way too much to keep up the jest.

"Where do you want me?" you ask against his lips.

His forehead's pressed against yours. You can feel his eyelashes, a slow, ticklish flicker against your skin—his nose nudges against yours. "On your back," he says, more than a little breathless. "Please."

You don't waste time, rolling off him to splay out on the pillows and blankets, sinking into them. Simon briefly goes off the edge of the bed, fishing around his backpack for a condom. Then he's back, wedging himself between your knees, hips slotting close to yours. Heat radiates off him in waves, and you get a contact buzz just from the proximity. His lowers his head once, kissing you, biting your bottom lip, tasting you once more.

"You need extra lube or anything?" he asks.

"Not after what you just did to me," you reply, tilting up enough to kiss his jaw as a reward for consideration. "I'm good."

You hear the condom packet rip, see the brief silver flash of the wrapper as Simon carelessly tosses it... somewhere. As you adjust your hips for comfort, he rolls the condom on. Then you feel his hand against your leg, movements slow and gentle as he aligns himself with you.

"You alright?" he asks, out of habit.

You nod, smiling up at him. "Always."

And he slides in.

It's an easy motion, part practice and part wetness from the combined efforts of his mouth and your arousal. He still takes it slow so as to not fill you up all at once. Yet the slow glide is almost more maddening—toe-curling as you feel him thrust in and hear his low moan. It feels like an epoch before he seats himself all the way inside, hips flush to your pelvis.

You hear your name as a sigh, and it rings in your head like a bell. You'll never get over how he says it, the myriad of ways he turns your name into something special. 'Ladybird' is reserved for work, for situations when you need to keep your cover, or when he's feeling surly. But when he says your real name, it's with a certain degree of reverence regardless of if it's said in happiness or anger. Like it means something to him that it's never meant to you.

Then again, you get it. His name feels like a secret, too.

"Fuck," he whispers, one hand on your hip, the other on the bed beside you. "You feel so damn good."

You can't wrangle the mischief edging its way into your smile. "It'd be better if you moved," you say.

He huffs a laugh, but follows your suggestion. His hips roll slowly, testing the waters, eyes gauging your reaction. Honestly, he doesn't need to watch for anything with you—it always feels good.

Sometimes the two of you work up a little banter, joking with each other between thrusts, teasing relentlessly. This isn't one of those times. You can't pinpoint why that is, why your playful back-and-forth from earlier fades into this, all emotionally-loaded and sweet. But you're far from complaining as he fucks you, fills and empties you on each thrust and draw, an ebb and flow with all the power of the tide.

Your right leg hitches around his waist, drawing him in close. He presses himself against you, your breasts firmly against his chest. At the same time, he kisses your cheek, down to your jaw, lower still to your neck. When he gets to your collarbone, you feel the slight pinch of teeth, then see his dark eyes fixed on you.

For a moment, you're not sure what he's doing, but then—

"Ohhh," you say. He and Soap aren't the only ones hitting epiphanies on the regular. "Right. Bed bugs and hickeys."

His smile is quick, a flicker of muscle movement, before he gives you another quick nip to the clavicle. "Somethin' to show off at Hogmanay," he says.

"Soap's never going to shut up about it."

"Good," Simon replies. And then he's sucking on your skin, biting down enough for you to hiss and wince. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching to see if it's too much. (It never is.) And he keeps thrusting in, enough so the pleasure drowns out any pain. When the ache is noticeable, he finally relents, lips finding yours again.

His thrusts quicken, and he buries his face into your neck as you arch off the bed and moan. Your arms go around his neck, holding him close, your bodies moving as a singular unit. He feels so deep, every driving push powerful, sending sparks through your nerves. You gasp his name, shuddering against him as you feel his heart hammering in his chest, reverberating into yours.

Your name is a scrape of his voice in your ear, and then you hear the distinctive hitch that tells you how close he is. He doesn't have to say it—rarely does—and you know him well enough now to catch all the signs. His pace stutters, muscles twitch, and his breath is hot against your skin. All you can do is hold him close, fingers on his back, stroking up and down his spine as he fucks you harder.

He has a tendency to freeze up when he comes. It's a quirk, and one that makes you smile and tilt your head enough to kiss his bare shoulder. He grunts and gasps, hips jerking once, twice, then burying himself so deep that it aches. You stroke his back through it all, feeling the divots of his spine, the hard muscles, networks of scar tissue forming constellations between freckles and moles. You're a little bit wistful at the idea of someday feeling him spill into you, experiencing that extra heat. But for right now, you're content to let him lay there and catch his breath as you lightly run your fingers over his skin. Idly, you raise one hand to card through his sweat-damp hair, fighting back giggles as you make it stand on end.

"What are you doing to me?" he asks, slightly muffled against your neck.

"Nothing."

"Doesn't feel like nothing."

Your thumb brushes down over his forehead, running along the curve of his eyebrow. He sighs against your skin, eyes fluttering closed.

"You gonna pull out any time soon?" you ask, grinning.

"Once I remember how my legs work, yeah."

"Take your time."

"Mm." Slowly, he hoists himself up on his elbows and pulls his cock out of you. You enjoy the pleasurable soreness that follows, rubbing your thighs together like you're pressing the memory between pages of a book. As you do that, he unfolds himself to get off the bed, discarding the condom before standing up to his full height.

When you see him wince, right hand going to rub a spot on his lower back, you can't help but laugh. "Is round two off the table, old man?" you tease.

He gives you a mock glare over his shoulder, but you see the suggestion of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth. "Once the paracetamol kicks in, it's over for you, Ladybird," he says.

You can't wait.

---

'and how many hickeys?'

You sigh, thumbs moving quickly over the keyboard. 'None, you filthy animal. I'm all business.'

The emojis come quicker than usual. A cute little cow, and then grinning shit.

#cod: mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #i am so sorry for any errors as i have a cold and everything feels bad forever #i'm not like totally happy with this but i wanted to idk say thank you for everyone being so darn nice about my fics

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astrum-aetherium · 10 months

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henry with a pillow princess IM SORRY I KNOW IVE SUBMITTED A LOT BUT THERES ONE LEFT AFTER THIS

-8

no need to apologize, dear. remember: you're appealing to the masses, which, as i'm sure, they will be quite grateful for ;)

i mean, he's a giver at heart. it might sound strange considering his character composition and whatnot — indifference, stoicism, coolness — but i've already discussed why he very well may find himself on the relentless giver side of things and it makes perfect sense to me. he's an overachiever; he strives after greatness; he intends to excel at anything he does, and an intimate framework will definitely pose no exception. therefore, he would know just how to cater to a pillow princess. hell, he'd encourage you to be one — on a good day, that is.

let's take one of those exemplary good days and run with it. foreplay with henry, considering you're offered enough time to engage in it in the first place, would be excruciatingly long. at times annoyingly, he would feel the teasing need to explore each nook and crevice of your body with his tongue every time as though he was unfamiliar with it; only then would he proceed to your aching center, not without having profoundly palmed and grazed it as though by accident on numerous occasions prior. he will not detach his tongue from your quivering heat until you have come for him at least twice — thrice or more on a very good day — having stretched and prepped you open for him en passant as well, assisting with his long and skilled fingers.

with you already spent but nevertheless yearning, he'd ultimately arrive at the notion of actually, physically fucking you — and, each and every time anew, he would do so expertly and adeptly, in a way that would cause each one of your cells to threaten to burst from the heat and electricity he'd channel into you with each motion. due to already being so worn out and drunk on the remnants of your past orgasms, you'd naturally be reduced to a pillow princess in that case; even if he asked you to get on top — which he would only do if he felt devious enough — you'd slump back into him upon the very first leap, thereby proving your utter exhaustion, and he would therefore be forced to maneuver your body more than you'd ever be willing to yourself and thrust up into you from beneath. he would think better of it in most cases, instead ruining you in positions that would grant him more control and, most importantly, freedom of movement.

all things considered: a pillow princess dynamic would work perfectly with henry, as i largely see him as someone who would prefer pleasing over being pleased every single time. in fact, i don't even think he would enjoy sex as a whole if he was the only party being catered to during it. as i said, he would be a giver at heart, and he would never expect to receive anything in return. he would feel distaste toward frequent blowjobs or handjobs — sex, to him, would be wholly about pleasing his partner above all else. he would feel undeserving and in no need of the very same pleasure given to himself, though. on most days, he would reject you and push you off were you to try anything of the sort on him, and instead fling you over his knee and finger you or flip you on your back and eat you out — both until you'd cry.

the general consensus, therefore, is: henry would be utterly fond of a pillow princess. to all those who are intrigued by this, i say: get in line.

#henry winter imagine #henry winter x reader #henry winter thirst #henry winter smut #astrum asks #indulgent thoughts #genuinely mewling #no like actually he would never even ask to get blown #whilst you on the other hand would beg for him to touch and pleasure you #who are you kidding!#and he would always always always come through #henry winter x pillow princess and i'm fully here for it #why can't he be real and exactly like how i envision him #tweaked and not exactly like donna imagined because i do NOT want him to have k1lled those dogs #gahhh

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astrox · 2 years

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That night, you and Toji were celebrating your birthday. It was your request to go out on a date like an average married couple. However, you wanted more from him than the affection he'd typically give. You've decided to tease him. To the skimpy dress revealing a lot of skin to the place you've booked for dinner. In a restaurant, you were lucky to reserve a booth with a white sheet covering the table.

Teasing your husband is an easy task. You flirted with the waiter, serving you drinks and taking your orders. You wanted to show off what belonged to Toji to the waiter as your foot slowly crept up his leg. Toji twitched, feeling your foot rub up against his leg, yet he couldn't help but glare at the waiter getting drawn in. You were entertaining yourself.

"Hey...come here," Toji called the waiter over. You didn't stop your foot, moving between his thighs. Grazing that one spot had your husband hissing, he asked the waiter. "That woman over there is my curse-"

Pushing your foot into his crotch caused his eyes to meet your glossy lips, stretching into a devilish smirk. You took a swig of the champagne, sending Toji a wink. Toji clicked his tongue and you down the rest of the liquid effortlessly.

"-So do me a favour and stop looking at what's mine and get me another waiter or I'll kill you," Toji threatened in the man's ear. The waiter's face went pale, and his body trembled by Toji's menacing scowl. The waiter scampers off where Toji couldn't see, not wasting a second. Meanwhile, you rest your foot on his crotch. It was then he realised your intentions.

Another waiter serves your table, a woman. The waitress became another thorn in Toji's side. You tortured him slowly as you complimented the woman, calling her beautiful and dragged your foot up between your husband's thigh at a slow pace.

"Has anyone told you that you should be a supermodel?" You asked, taking the woman by her hand. She blushed, using her notepad to hide her face. You let out a dramatic gasp, pushing the foot in.

You could feel a tent growing in his pants, and his hand grabbed hold of your ankle. He forced your ministration to stop. Moving your foot, you slipped it back in your heel and placed it down on the floor. Once the waitress disappeared to retrieve your food, you grinned. "You're no fun, Toji,"

"We're here to celebrate your birthday like you wanted, not watch you flirt with every person five fucking feet away from you," He reminded you, earning a sly smile.

"But you tease me every time we go out together, Toji. Can't I have a little fun on my birthday?" You requested of him, catching Toji off guard. "If I'm yours...you gotta prove it to everyone else because you're a terrible husband,"

Leaning back in your seat, you picked up a fork and twirled it between your fingers. Your lips stretched, forming a naughty grin, then bit on the handle of your fork.

"Fine y/n. I'll play your little game-" Slapping a few bills on the table, he forcefully takes you by the wrist and drags you out of the restaurant without any food in your stomach.

That's where the fun begins.

"What was that now you dirty little slut-" Toji gathered your hair into his hand as he rammed into you. He had you on your stomach, ass up and your hands tied behind your back with his belt. Your cries echoed throughout your hotel room while Toji rearranged your guts. He sought revenge after all the teasing he endured. Now he intends on making you regret your words and actions.

The sweat covering you both made a squishy wet sound as his hips met your ass. Your juices ran down your thighs. All you could do was moan and whimper into the silk sheets beneath. Toji pulled you back by your hair, teeth latching onto the junction between your neck and shoulder, leaving a mark.

"F-fuck-" You cried out. Toji sits you on his lap and leans back on his hands, then he stops moving. You whine, looking at him from over your shoulder, seeing a devious grin on his face. His hands released your restraints, letting your hands roam.

"Come on, birthday girl! Show me how desperate you are for me," His voice came out as a growl. Pulling yourself off his cock, you turned yourself around, so you were facing him. Hands resting on his shoulders, you impaled yourself on his cock once you've angled your hips just right. His length stretched you out again, leaving you both in bliss and pure ecstasy.

"That's it, princess," Toji spoke, his palm slapped your ass, and you began bouncing yourself on his shaft. He slaps your ass again, releasing an erotic moan from your quivering lips that had him twitching. You looked pretty riding him. "Look at you-"

Squeezing him, Toji's hands rested on your hips when he snapped his hips into you. He helped you and thrusts into your sloppy cunt. Your hands raked his chest, leaving light red lines, but when his hand wrapped itself around your throat, you only mewled in response. "Ohh, I'm gonna fill up this tight little pussy-"

"You wanted me to prove to everyone that your mine, right?" He asked, yet you couldn't produce a single word. "I'll show how I claim what's mine."

Feeling lightheaded, intense pressure in your lower abdomen meant your climax was approaching. Your voice cracked, and your moans came out as sobs. Toji laid you down your back, thrusting in and out of you. He picks up speed, penetrating and stroking you deeply.

"Toji-"

"Come on, baby, cum on Daddy's cock," Toji ordered.

Gripping the sheet, you finally reached the climax. Your orgasm had your legs shaking, cum spilling on the sheets and eyes brimming with tears. Your walls tightened around Toji while he continued fucking you hard. His erratic thrusts didn't stop until he chased his own orgasm. He came inside you, pumping hot strings into your heat till you milked him of every drop. He filled you with his seed as promised, so much that a lot poured out of your cunt once he removed himself.

Sighing in relief, Toji laid you down beside him. An arm pulled you in closer, letting you rest on his chest and catch your breath.

"Looks like I win," You hear above you, followed by a chuckle. You rolled your eyes, turning on your side.

"Whatever," You said, tugging on the covers and hiding your breast. Suddenly, you fell the bed shift, and the weight had been lifted off one side. Toji leaned over his side, grabbing his paints piled on the floor. He returns, looming over your body and holds out a tiny black box.

"Happy birthday, beautiful," He says, kissing your shoulder.

Accepting the gift, you opened the box finding a beautiful pair of earrings. You gasped, muttering out. "They're so beautiful,"

Looking over your shoulder, your lips meet for a tender kiss. Toji deepens it, hand tilting your chin to his liking. "Thank you, Toji,"

Support an author (ko-fi) ❘ word count: 1183

#toji x y/n #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen

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badassbuchanan · 3 years

Text

My Girl

Request: Could you writer some sort of frenemies thing with Bucky where everyone thinks you hate each other but then Loki starts flirting with you and it makes Bucky really jealous??

Warnings: smut; non!con turned fucking sickly sweet, fingering, slut shaming, unprotected sex, doggy, missionary, dirty talk, angst.

Word count: 7968

A/N: I apologise for messing with your hearts like this - I also strayed a bit from the request (sorry anon!) x

“Buchanan, you fucker!” Y/N yelled from across the compound moments before Bucky strutted into the boardroom with a roll of his eyes.

The rest of the team’s head’s turned to follow the loud noise of Y/N yelling, watching the long haired super soldier enter the room with a smug look on his face.

“Not again.” Bruce sighed softly, his head falling into his hand as he prepared himself for another bickering match between Y/N and Bucky.

“Don’t you walk away from me.” Y/N followed Bucky into the room, her eyes fixed on the back of his head as he casually made his way over to the others.

“Guys, cut it out.” Tony spoke sternly, trying to control the two avengers who were constantly at each other’s throats.

“Just wait until you hear what he said.” Y/N looked over at Tony who’s palms were pressed against the edge of the large conference table. He shook his head, looking between the two is disbelief.

“I don't ca-”

“Don’t be such a baby.” Bucky retaliated to Y/N childishly before Tony could speak. The super soldier slumped down in the empty seat next to Cap, his eyes focused on her from across the room as his elbows rested on the arm rests of the swivel chair. Neither of them cared that they’d bought the whole room into the argument. “All I said was I’d rather take my chances with spider-boy than have Y/N as my partner on a mission.”

“This is coming from the guy who couldn’t even hold on to a train.” She growled as she pulled out the seat next to Nat, who was smiling an amusement at how well Y/N stood up for herself. Bucky scoffed at her comment, shaking his head as he thought of something to anger her further.

Peter’s face screwed up in shock after realising his name had been mentioned, his arms coming up to cross over his body defensively. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked as a devious smile appear on Bucky’s face. Peter glanced over at Tony for help, but he was too annoyed to care about the youngest avenger’s feelings.

“It means-” Y/N words were cut off by a loud bang of Tony’s hand hitting the desk. The sound made everyone jolt slightly, the room immediately silencing.

“Enough!” He yelled furiously, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he glared between the bickering pair. “I didn’t call this meeting to hear you two fight. You’re already late, now stop acting like children and listen up.”

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stop the laughter that was building up inside of her from hearing Tony yell as she glared over at Bucky.

“Asshole.” She mouthed to Bucky, who was already smirking at the fact that they’d been told off like toddlers.

“Snitch.” He whispered back cheekily, secretly liking the way he knew it would make her laugh. Bucky liked being the only reason she got frustrated, wound up and tense. But he also liked being the only reason she smiled, laughed and blushed.

Bucky had this hold on Y/N that couldn’t be explained. She’d tried to reason with herself, telling her inner-self it was just her caring nature that made her feel sorry for him, even when he was a complete dick to her. He was constantly doing things to purposely annoy her or to get a reaction. It gave him a thrill. Like a power trip that sent pleasure to his brain. And he took advantage of that any chance he got.

“Now, over the past few weeks the threats from the Beyonders have increased noticeably.” Tony stood up straight, tugging his collar back into place as he clicked the button of the control he was holding. The screen changed, a mathematical graph appearing to prove Tony’s point.

Y/N chanced a glance over at Bucky, his fingers on each hand intwined as he swivelled lightly in the chair. God, he was so infuriating. There wasn’t a day that went by without him getting on her last nerve. He frustrated her beyond belief. But for some twisted reason, she loved it.

“Now we don’t know a lot about who they are, what they want or where they came from.” Tony continued, the room dead silent as he flicked to the next slide.

Bucky bit the inside of his lip, a frown appearing on his brows as he zoned out to what Tony was saying. He was bored already, deciding to look down at his metal hand as he wiggled his fingers to amuse himself, studying the mechanics of it.

He felt a pair of eyes burning into him, glancing over to Y/N. A smug smile washed over his face when he noticed her already looking at him. He gave her a quick wink, pouting his lips into a kissing motion as she rolled her eyes.

“So, we’ve had to call on the help of an old acquaintance.” Tony turned to face the team again, his fingers lightly tapping on the table in front of him as his eyes darted around the room. Luckily by that point, Y/N and Bucky had both turned their eyes back to the spokesman.

Tony’s tongue quickly darted out to the corner of his mouth, the unknown reaction of the team was making him anxious.

“Excuse me, Mr Stark. Thor and Loki have just landed. Should I send them in?” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice came through the intercom, immediately causing a few murmurs from the team.

“Loki’s here?” Y/N’s eyes lit up immediately as she looked up at Tony for confirmation. Bucky’s head shot round to where she sat, eyebrows furrowing as he wondered who the hell Loki was and why Y/N was so excited to see him.

“You called Loki?” Steve almost shot up out of his chair, a look of betrayal on his face as he stared at Tony, waiting for an explanation. “Tony, he is not an acquaintance.”

The fact that Steve was so put off by the mention of Loki had Bucky even more concerned. If Steve had a problem with him, so did he. Especially since Y/N liked him. As the room grew louder in outbursts of resentment regarding Tony’s decision, so did Bucky’s brain.

He watched Y/N try and fix her hair subtly, sitting up straighter in her chair as an unusual feeling flooded through him. He wasn't angry, but he sure as hell wasn’t happy.

The beep of the boardroom door opening quickly silenced the group, Y/N’s head turning to watch the God of Thunder walk into the room. “Hello everyone.” Thor nodded with a sweet smile, pleased to be back with his friends again. “Good to see you all.”

It was almost as if a cold wind engulfed the room as Bucky watched the dark haired, chiseled faced, pale god strut into the room. Bucky’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as he felt a wave of overwhelming hate flood through his body. He noticed Loki’s hair was longer than his own. His eyes brighter. His smile wider. His jaw sharper.

“Greetings, all.” His voice was slicker. He was charismatic. He was charming. He was everything Bucky wasn’t and he fucking hated him. Bucky felt his heartbeat quicken as he watched Loki greet everyone individually, stopping in his tracks as he reached Y/N’s chair.

She’d turned to face him, her eyes lit up like fireworks as she looked up at the god of mischief who had put his hands over his mouth. “My god,” Loki gasped softly as he pulled his best puppy dog face, leaning his hands on the arms of Y/N chair to get close to her. “Y/N, you look more beautiful every time I see you, my love.”

Bucky felt his jaw clench so tight he was sure it would break. His hands closed into tight fists as he sat up a little straighter in his chair. He was livid. Livid at the fact that this green-eyed hot shot thought he could waltz in and steal Y/N away from him. Bucky was the only one that made her smile. He was the only one that got to have her attention.

“Oh, Loki, stop, you’re making me blush.” She giggled softly and wrapped her arms around his neck like they belonged there. Loki turned his face towards her, leaving a gentle kiss on her flushed cheek before he stood back up. Bucky had never made her giggle like that. He’d never kissed her cheek before. He’d spent every damn day with her and he never got her to blush like a little school girl.

“Maybe later you can show me your favourite spots and we can talk about what's changed since I was last here.” Loki spoke softly, taking Y/N’s hand in his as he pulled it against his chest dotingly.

A few snickers broke out from the rest of the team, not surprised one bit at Loki and Y/N’s interaction. Believe it or not, Y/N wasn’t Loki’s biggest fan. She would never actually progress their friendship to anything more than flirting, deep down she didn’t trust him just as much as Steve didn’t. But Y/N did love the attention that Loki gave her. How he treated her like a princess and devoted himself to her every word. She liked how he complimented her and made a fuss. She liked how he made her feel special in a room full of people.

But all that Bucky saw unravelling in front of his eyes was the start of one of those soppy rom-coms that he despised. “We have training later, Y/N.” His words came out a lot more aggressive than he originally intended.

The whole room’s attention turned to him, straight faced and stiffened body. Loki stood up straight as a glimmer shone in his eyes. He noticed how on edge the super soldier looked.

“Yeah, we’ll still have time to train, Bucky.” She spoke with a level of concern, noticing the unusual seriousness on Bucky’s face. “I wouldn’t skip on the opportunity to kick your ass.” She smirked, face immediately dropping as she watched Bucky quickly divert his eyes away, not entertaining her with his usual sarcastic response.

“Bucky?” Loki’s voice was low as thoughts flew through his brain at a million miles per hour. He smiled deviously, eyes squinting as his heart jumped at the chance to cause mischief. “James Buchanan Barnes. The winter soldier.”

Bucky clenched his jaw again as his eyes flickered up to Loki before back to the table, he could feel his anger bubbling over. Loki had been getting under his skin ever since he walked through the damn door.

“Hydra’s most successful experiment, their deadliest weapon.” Loki made a quick move around the table to stand in front of Bucky, his eyes widening with excitement as he held his hand out in front of him. “May I say what a pleasure it is to meet you.”

Steve noticed Bucky’s metal hand grip tightly around the arm of his chair as he politely lifted his flesh arm to quickly shake Loki’s hand. Bucky smiled as he momentarily looked up at the long haired god, using all of his will power to stay calm.

“How did it feel to know how many people you killed once you got your mind back?” Loki’s words were slow and full of deviance as Bucky’s metal arm began whirring into action.

Y/N watched worriedly, she annoyed the crap out of Bucky all the time, but she’d never seen him so angry. Her heart sunk as she watched Bucky’s eyes darken, a soft, lost look on his face that disappeared so quick she almost thought she’d imagined it.

Steve’s eyes widened as he watched the event unfold. “I think that’s enough chit chat, Loki.” He spoke sternly, Loki’s eyes immediately glancing over to Steve. He knew the fact that Steve had to step in meant he’d done a good job of infuriating Bucky. “Why don’t you just get on with what you came here to do.”

Loki stayed silent, pleased with his work as he flickered quick a smile, striding back up to the front of the room where Tony stood.

“The Beyonders are a race of extra-dimensional entities powerful enough to collect planets.” Loki went straight into ‘business mode’, his charismatic nature immediately made most of the room forget what he’d just said to Bucky.

But Steve was concerned, and embarrassingly enough, so was Y/N. Yes, she loved to aggravate Bucky, wind him up until he was chasing her down the hallway or whining at her to stop being a brat. But it was never to hurt him, she made sure of that. Not like what Loki had just done. She tried to silently get his attention by glancing over at him every now and then, but Bucky’s eyes didn’t budge from the table.

“Their nature is so alien that they are unable to leave their own dimension and for millennia were never observed by any being of the Earth dimension.” Loki continued to teach the team about the threat they were facing, the room silent as mostly everyone paid attention. “To interact with the Earth dimension they must operate through agents.”

“So basically, what Loki is saying is, it’s not just one race we’re up against here. It’s gunna be a big ass battle.” Tony interjected Loki’s speech, he’d read the room enough to know he’d lost the attention of three of his avengers already. There was no need for this to continue. “That’s all you need to know for now. We’ll regroup tomorrow for another meeting. Thank you, Loki.”

The team stood up, casually making their way out of the room after Tony had ended the meeting. Y/N lagged behind, watching Steve and Sam mumbling something incoherent to Bucky.

By the looks of things he didn’t want to listen to what they had to say, the long haired super soldier pushed past his oldest friend with a frown on his face, not lifting his eyes even once as he left the room.

Y/N sighed as she watched Bucky storm out of the room, she’d never seen him act out so much, he was always so internal with his emotions. She didn’t like the way Loki brought up Bucky’s past in front of everyone like that. She almost felt protective over Bucky, like she was the only one who should be able to tease him about that kind of stuff.

The look on Bucky’s face when Loki had mentioned the Winter Soldier’s assassinations made Y/N’s heart ache. It was as if everything came flooding back to him in an instant, like a bad dream he couldn’t wake up from.

Y/N and Bucky had never discussed such personal things, no way. She didn’t know that he suffered from PTSD, flashbacks and social anxiety. She didn’t know about the nights he lay awake haunted by his past. All she saw was a grumpy looking soldier who only smiled when he was making fun of her.

“Darling,” Loki’s sudden call to her knocked Y/N out of her thoughts. Her head was forced to turn to the side by the god of mischief, whose hands were on her shoulders. He smiled down at her dotingly, eyes bright as he fed her attention-needy ego. “What do you say we make the most of this alone time we’ve been so generously given, hm?”

She smiled softly up at him, although her eyes were glazed over as her mind wandered off again. “Sorry Loki, but I should go and get ready for training.” Her voice was monotone and quiet as she suddenly wasn’t so interested in the attention of the man in front of her.

She left the room and wandered through the compound, stopping in her tracks when she saw Sam, Steve and Nat talking in the kitchen. “Hey, Steve.” Y/N called out, confused as to why she was suddenly so concerned about the metal armed man.

As all three of the avenger’s heads turned to where she was standing, Y/N began second guessing her decision to ask if Bucky was okay. She hated Bucky, he annoyed the shit out of her. Even if she asked, the team would just think she was asking to make sure he wasn’t okay. What if they thought she’d take Loki’s side? Or worse. What if they thought she’d set Loki up to hurt Bucky? Even worse than that. What if Bucky thought Y/N had set Loki up to hurt him?

“Never mind.” She sighed as she bit the inside of her lip, continuing her walk through the compound until she reached her room.

She quickly changed into a red sports bra with navy detailing and leggings to match. She looked in the mirror after tying her training shoes and tied her hair into a high pony tail. She turned around, shamelessly checking out her ass before making her way down to the training room.

She waited for a whole half an hour for Bucky to show, but he never did. She stood up from where she’d eventually laid down on the rubber floor mat, she couldn’t help but feel guilty about what had happened earlier. Bucky obviously blamed her, why else wouldn’t he show? He’d never been late before.

“He didn’t show, huh?” Y/N glanced up as Steve walked into the room, tight grey top and black shorts.

She shook her head, lifting her arms to tighten her pony tail before placing her hands on her hips. “Any idea where he is?”

“In his room.” Steve shrugged, knowing that’s where Bucky spent most of his time. He started throwing controlled practice punches at the punching bag in front of him, stopping as he watched Y/N walk towards the door. “Maybe take it easy on him. I know he can annoy you sometimes but, I just think he’s having a bad day.”

She couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as she turned back to face Steve, he really thought she was going to yell at him for not showing up to training. She couldn’t blame him for thinking that, any other day and that's probably exactly what she would’ve done. “Loki was really out of line earlier, I actually just want to make sure Bucky’s okay.”

Steve smiled proudly at her from where he was taping up his hands, nodding slightly as if he were giving her the ‘go ahead’. There weren’t many people, even living in the compound, that would be willing to go out of their way to make sure Bucky was okay. It was partly his own fault, he was very stand-offish.

“Come in.” Y/N was surprised when she heard Bucky’s voice call out from beyond the door after she’d knocked. Honestly, she wasn’t expecting a response.

She opened the door slowly, noticing his neatly kept room with minimal belongings. She looked over Bucky who was standing by the foot of his bed, he was wearing different clothes from earlier. That, his slicked back hair and the scent of peppermint told Y/N that he’d just had a shower.

“What do you want?” Bucky mumbled bluntly, turning his back to her as he walked over to his desk to grab a newspaper. Y/N shut the door behind her quietly, watching as he glared at her before diverting his eyes away. He rubbed his face in his hand, sighing out of frustration when she didn’t answer. “I said what do you want?”

“Woah, at ease soldier.” She chuckled lightly, trying to make a joke to calm her nerves. She’d never been in Bucky’s room before. She’d never genuinely asked him about his feelings. She had no clue how he’d react. What if he made fun of her? “So this is why you bailed on our training, huh?” She smiled softly, pointing at the newspaper in his hand.

“I’m surprised you even noticed I wasn’t there.” Bucky scoffed out spitefully, referring to Loki asking to spend time with her.

“Of course I noticed.” Y/N frowned in confusion, watching Bucky roll his eyes as he slammed the newspaper back on the table.

“Why? Because you and your boyfriend didn’t have anyone to make fun of?” Bucky raised his voice, eyes squinting in anger as glared at her from where he stood. “Is that why you’re here now, hm? Didn’t get enough time to piss me off earlier? Or do you just wanna see how far you can push me before I snap?”

“Loki is not my boyfriend.” She screwed her face up, raising her voice to match his as she waved her hands in the air.

“Yeah, well, you suit each other.” Bucky snapped back sarcastically, a deep crease between his eyebrows formed as he frowned.

Y/N clenched her jaw, a burning heat rising up in her as her anger took control. “I came here to make sure you were okay, asshole!” She yelled furiously back at him, crossing her arms defensively.

“Oh yeah? Since when do you care about me?” Bucky spoke sarcastically, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he crossed his arms and waited for her response.

“Believe it or not, Bucky, some of us do care about you!” She snapped back at his sarcasm, her chest heaving with fury as she watched him immediately jolt off of the wall. “Normal people care about people other than themselves.”

“And I don’t?” His voice lowered drastically, he started walking towards her as if she were his prey. “Why? Because I have no feelings?” He clenched his fists by his sides, watching her press her back against the door as he stalked closer.

“I don’t know! No one knows what goes on in that cyborg brain of yours!” She argued, agrivated that she had tried to do the right thing by coming to see him, but his stubbornness was causing an argument.

“So that’s how you see me, huh? A robot with no emotion? An empty vessel? A killing machine?” Y/N gasped as Bucky’s metal hand tightened around her throat, pushing her head back against the door harshly. Her eyes widened innocently, trying to regain her breath as his face came square with hers. “You don’t know shit about me. About the constant fucking torture inside my head.”

“You didn’t kill those people, Bucky, it was Hydra. I saw the way you looked like a scared little puppy when Loki mentioned the-“

“The what?” Bucky growled huskily, keeping her head in place as his eyes stared into hers. He watched her pupils dialate as he squeezed the sides of her neck with his metal fingers.

His heart had stopped for a moment when she’d told him that Hydra was the one she blamed for what he’d done. He didn’t expect anyone to think that way, especially not her. A wave of emotion flooded through him, not jealously this time, but...what? Whatever it was, it caused butterflies in his tummy.

Bucky felt his cock twitch slightly at the sight of her submitting it him, for once in her life not fighting him. “The winter soldier?” Bucky whispered into her ear, Y/N’s eyes closing as she started to feel her pussy tingle. “Is that what this is all about? You wanna meet him? Wanna see me turn into a monster? Watch the light disappear from my eyes as I fucking destroy you?”

She couldn’t explain why his threats turned her on, all she knew was that she’d never been so aroused in her life. Her chest was heaving as he whispered in her ear, her panties flooding as his metal arm choked her.

The look she gave Bucky sent his head into a spin. She looked so helpless and innocent beneath his hand, but there was a hint of desire in her eyes. She wanted him, she wanted to please him, she wanted him to take whatever he wanted from her.

“You don’t scare me.” She whimpered softly, her lips parting as she tried to breathe. Bucky’s eyes flickered over her lips as an uncontrollable urge to kiss her washed over him.

“Still so mouthy.” He shook his head with a tut, their lips almost touching as he jolted his hand, pushing her head against the wall with more force. She let out a small cry. “You know there are other ways to get attention, baby.”

Y/N’s arousal was soaking through the material covering her crotch, her pebbled nipples rubbing against her sports bra. “Well it’s not my fault you’re always pissing me off.” She whispered bravely, her eyes fixed on his which had grown noticeably darker.

“Oh?” Bucky arched his eyebrow, tilting his head back slightly to assert his dominance. “You don’t like when I wind you up? When I say things to purposely get you to snap?” He leaned his head down, his lips tickling the delicate skin just behind where his fingers finished pressing into her neck.

Y/N listened closely to his words, realising that Bucky hadn’t been treating her that way because he hated her. He hadn’t been constantly on at her because he didn’t get along with her. In fact, he did it because he knew exactly what she liked. Exactly what kind of interactions she thrived off of. The kind that would always bring her back for more.

Bucky took her silence as an agreement, a smirk playing on his lips as he continued kissing her neck softly. “I know exactly what gets you going, don’t I?” He continued, finally letting go of her neck as his metal arm trailed down her chest.

Y/N let out a shaky breath as her throat was now unrestricted, her eyes dropping to where his hand was on her. Bucky’s flesh palm was planted firmly on the wall next to her head, trapping her there.

“Is that why you’re always so frustrated around me? Hm? Constantly coming back for more?” He kissed her cheek, almost affectionately as he watched her squirm under his touch. “Such a needy little attention whore.”

She didn’t bite back, her head lifted to lean against the wall, her thighs desperately rubbing together to relieve some of the tension building between her thighs. She liked it.

Bucky chuckled deeply, looking down at where his fingers had dropped to play with the waistband of her exercise leggings. He hooked the tips of his metal fingers inside, entertaining himself as he looked back up at her. “Tell me honestly, baby, whose attention do you crave most?”

“Yours.” She whimpered desperately, not even taking a moment to think. His lips ghosted over hers, his eyes big and innocent as he brushed their noses together.

“Not that green goblin who calls himself a god?” Bucky tested as he stepped closer, their bodies touching as his hand pressed against her lower stomach. She whimpered at the feeling of his cold metal fingers on her bare skin, so close to where she needed him most.

“No.” She submitted to him instantly, shaking her head as Bucky slowly pushed his hand further down into her pants.

He stopped when he reached the band of her panties, a loud gulp erupted from Y/N’s throat as Bucky teased her even more. “You sure? S’not too late to go running back to him.”

“No, Bucky, I want you.” She breathed out shakily, almost crying in frustration as Bucky licked his lips, her words were like music to his ears. Her hand came down to rest on his lower tummy, feeling his muscles through the thin material of his t-shirt.

“Why, Y/N?” He growled as their breaths hit each others lips, she clawed softly at his stomach, overwhelmed with pleasure before he’d even begun. “Tell me why you want me and not him.”

She felt exhausted, like her body could collapse at any moment. She was in a euphoric state from his light touches and words alone. She looked down at his lips, her eyes half shut as she grabbed hold of his metal wrist, pushing his hand down into her panties.

Y/N let out a soft moan as his metal fingers slipped between her slick folds, her head hitting the wall with a thud. She looked up at Bucky, watching his eyes fall to where his hand disappeared into her leggings. His brows were furrowed in a frown, his mouth slightly hung open as he slipped his fingers deeper into her. “Because only you make me wet.”

Bucky lost control, pushing his lips against hers in a desperate kiss as two of his metal fingers slipped into her hole. Y/N moaned into the kiss, her hand flying up to hold the back of his neck, pulling him down harder onto her lips. If only he’d known. If only he’d known that every cocky remark, every teasing comment left her this wet.

“God, if Id’ve known all it took to shut you up was my fingers in your wet little hole I would’ve fucked you a long time ago.” Bucky chuckled darkly, his words were condescending. He pushed his tongue between her lips, a growl escaping his throat as she sucked on his warm muscle.

His fingers moved in and out of her aching pussy, his whole hand drenched in her arousal. Y/N whimpered when he curled his fingers inside of her, hitting a spot of pleasure that she didn't know was there.

“Bucky.” She moaned against his lips, her hips bucking into his hand as his thumb moved to rub her throbbing clit. She tugged on his hair, her arms resting on his shoulders as she steadied herself.

“You wanna cum, don’t you?” He asked smugly, tilting his head before pressing their lips together sensually. “You wanna cum all over metal hand, you horny little slut.”

“Yeah.” She whimpered out breathlessly, sucking on his top lip as she rocked her hips against his hand, pushing them further inside of her. “Make me cum, please, Bucky.”

“I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this, you hear me?” Bucky growled into her mouth, biting down on her lip hard enough to hurt. He felt Y/N’s hips rut against his hand again, a smile appearing on his lips as he felt how desperate she was.

She whimpered, her back arching off of the wall as she rolled her hips toward him. She looked up into his eyes innocently, like he was the only person in the world.

Bucky felt his cock pressing harshly against the material of his track pants, desperate for attention. He watched her bounce on his fingers, her hand moving from his shoulder to pull the tight material of her sports bra over her tits, letting them bounce freely.

Bucky’s eyes darkened at the sight of her boobs, his fingers speeding up inside her tight pussy as he met every movement of her hips. “Fuck yourself on my hand, just like that, make yourself cum.”

Her thighs clenched around his hand, controlling his movements as she clung to his wrist, fucking herself on his hand just like he’d told her to. “Shit, Bucky.”

Y/N clenched rapidly around his metal fingers, his thumb harshly pressed against her sensitive nub as she felt her orgasm taking over.

She leaned in to press her lips against his, hoping to muffle the moans, but Bucky was too fast. He moved his head out of reach, smiling down at her deviously as she came.

Her moans filled the room, her nails digging in to his shoulder as she bucked her hips unrhythmatically into his palm. “Fuck.” She whimpered as she clung to his chest, trying to calm down from the overwhelming sensation.

Bucky pulled his fingers out of her before she could even catch a breath, little moans escaping her lips as she watched him suck his fingers soaked in her juices.

“Shit.” He breathed heavily as he looked down at where his fingers had just been, a noticble wet patch covering the material of her leggings. “You’re so fucking wet, soaked right through your leggings.”

Y/N whimpered in response, tugging his metal hand down to her mouth as she sucked on his fingers. Bucky clenched his jaw as he watched her submissively take his fingers, her soft plump lips wrapping around them.

“Bucky,” she breathed shakily as he pulled his fingers from her mouth to hold her hips. She wrapped her hands around his biceps as she pulled body against hers. “I want you to fuck me.”

He smiled darkly at her desperate state, his cock throbbing as he tilted his head to the side. “It’s gunna hurt.” He chuckled, enjoying the thought of impaling her on his cock.

“Good,” She pouted as she ran her hands down his muscular form, desperate to feel his cock in her hand. “I want it to hurt.”

Bucky immediately caught on to what she was doing, his hands quickly moving to grab her wrists tightly. He skilfully used his strength to spin her around, her exposed chest pressing hard against the wall as he held her hands behind the small of her back.

Y/N let out a small cry, his body pressed tightly against her back. She felt the outline of his cock pressing against her ass cheek as she ground back into him.

“Don’t you dare try and take control.” Bucky growled deeply, his head dropping as he watched his bulge rub against her.

Bucky groaned at the feeling, he let go of her wrists, her palms moving to press against the wall. His hands quickly moved to pull the waistband of her leggings and panties down to free her ass.

He gulped loudly as he watched the wetness pool down onto her panties. Bucky had to stop himself from dropping to his knees and fucking her with his tongue.

“Come on Bucky,” Y/N whined desperately as she kicked her bottoms off the rest of the way, almost crying out of frustration. “Don’t you wanna fuck the brat out of me?” She turned her head to look at him, biting her lip as she watched him tugging on his cock that he’d pulled out of the confinements of his pants.

He was huge. Her lips parted in a gasp as she took in the beauty of his cock. She had to stop herself from turning around and sucking him off. Bucky lifted his flesh hand up to her mouth, watching as she obediently licked a strip up his palm with her tongue.

Bucky looked her almost naked form up and down, moving his wet hand to lubricate his cock as he tugged himself off. “God, you make me so wet, Bucky.” She moaned sensually, spreading her legs a little wider as she felt her juices running down the inside of her thigh.

He closed his eyes, letting his metal fingers dig into her hip as he positioned himself behind her, lining his tip up with her dripping heat. He bit his lip, forcing his cock into her tight walls as she moaned like a pornstar for him.

“Oh, yes.” She screamed at the feeling of his thick length stretching her pussy. “Fuck, Bucky.” She felt his cock twitch inside of her, encouraging her to moan louder. She closed her eyes, leaning her cheek against the cold wall as she tried to adjust to his monstrous size.

“Good girl, let everyone know who you belong to.” Bucky moaned as he stilled, fully sheathed inside of her. Her pussy clenched around him, hugging his thick shaft trying to milk him of his cum.

“You’re so big.” She whimpered submissively, trying to stop her hips from jolting to get used to his cock throbbing inside of her. Bucky could tell that she was already fucked out, his cock was too much for her to take. But for once, she wasn’t answering him back or being a pain in his ass. She was begging him.

Bucky bit down on his bottom lip as he suddenly began moving his hips in and out of her, the action easy because of how wet she was. He held her hips in place as she cried out, still trying to adjust to his size. Her tits bounced as she lost control of her body, pushing her palm harder against the wall as she steadied herself.

“No, Bucky, wait.” She whimpered, moving her other hand back to push his hip back, needing a little more time to adjust. A dull ache took over her pussy as he fucked her relentlessly, easily fighting against where her hand was pushing him away.

“You said you wanted it to hurt.” He growled dominantly, pulling her hips back against his cock as he fucked into her, treating her like his own little sex doll. His cock twitched at the sound of her erotic moans filling the room loudly, a grunt erupting from his lips as he watched his cock disappear into her pussy.

Her clit throbbed with pleasure, her ass being pulled back harshly against his skin. Slapping sounds grew louder with her pussy still dripping with arousal, his cock easily slipping in and out of her.

“I do,” She breathed heavily, her head spinning with pleasure as she dropped her hand from his hip, the feeling of needing to help him feel better overwhelming her senses. “Take it all out on me, Buck.”

His hips didn’t let up, fucking deep into her as he felt a different feeling flow through his body. He looked at the girl in front of him, so ready to help him fuck away his problems. So ready to help him, where most people would’ve run.

Bucky’s heart felt like mush, a moan leaving his lips as Y/N arched her back into his touch. He moved his body forward to press his chest flush against her back, his metal hand pressing into the wall.

He’d pushed his cock deeper into her with the new angle, another loud moan of his name escaping her lips as she leaned her head back against his shoulder.

Bucky felt her pussy clenching around him again, his flesh arm wrapping around her chest to hug her tighter against him. She started circling her hips on his cock, a deep growl came from his chest as he fucked her.

“Did you mean it?” He whispered into her ear, fucking deep inside of her as he made her moan for him. She whimpered softly, her eyes closing in pure bliss as she felt his cock pressing against her cervix.

She turned her head towards him, her eyes darkened and fucked out as she looked at his face. His stubble scratched her cheek, his eyes glistening in the dull light of the room. He waited for an answer for what seemed like a lifetime, his thrusts getting rougher as he clenched his thighs.

“Did you mean it?” He repeated the question, feeling his balls slapping against her skin. Y/N looked up into his eyes, noticing the softness in them which wasn’t there before. “Did you mean it when you said you’re not scared of me?”

A warm feeling flooded Y/N’s heart as she saw that look again - the scared puppy look that she’d seen when Loki mentioned the winter soldier. Her chest tightened around itself, the pain in his eyes was so deep it almost hurt her to see.

“Yes,” She nodded softly, her hand moving to play with his hair as she watched Bucky’s eyes flicker down to her lips. “Of course I meant it.” Her eyebrows raised, almost to confirm her sincerity as she pressed her lips to his.

Bucky sighed in relief as he felt her lips against his, embarrassingly too shy to do it himself. He deepened his thrusts, hugging her body as he fucked up into her. But now it was more than fucking, it was like they were connected on a completely different level. Like they understood each other more than anyone else would ever understand them. Y/N had never seen this side of him before and it was making her fall in love. and that scared her.

She pushed her ass back against him, moaning into the kiss as she felt his cock twitching inside her walls. She knew she was close, her clit tingling at the full feeling of his length fucking her. Bucky knew it too, he felt the way she was squeezing around him.

He felt an overwhelming amount of emotion coursing through his veins, his heart almost beating out of his chest as he slid his cock out of her. Before she could protest, Bucky spun Y/N to face him, his chest heaving as she pressed her hand against his peck.

“Do you think you could ever love me?” He nudged her nose with his, looking down at the floor as he breathed shakily. Her eyes saddened at his vulnerability, wondering how many times that thought had crossed his mind, thinking the answer was no. “Do you think anyone could ever love me?”

“God, you’re such a fucking idiot sometimes, Barnes.” She sighed with a sad smile, a little chuckle escaping her lips as Bucky looked up at her eyes in a moment of bravery.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his automatically move to hold her hips. She felt his throbbing cock against her crotch, ignoring the sexual desire as she focused on taking care of his feelings. “Of course I love you.” She admitted shyly, the flush on her cheeks not just from the raw fucking.

Bucky tried to control the smile from beaming on his face, but he failed miserably. She looked up at the handsome soldier, her heart skipping a beat knowing she was the reason for his happiness. “Why else do you think I constantly bug you? Or instantly forgive you for all the things you do to make me mad, hm?” She played with his hair as Bucky licked his lips, admiring her through hooded eyes.

She squealed as Bucky suddenly pressed his lips against hers deeply, giggling like a little school girl as he picked her up by her thighs. Bucky’s heart fluttered at the sound of her laughing, her hand cupping his stubble-covered face as she tilted her head into the kiss.

Bucky turned them around, walking them over to his bed as he flicked his tongue between her parted lips. She moaned into the kiss, feeling herself falling before her back landed on the soft mattress.

She opened her eyes when Bucky took his lips away, a small pouty smile on her lips as she watched him lifting his shirt over his head. She ran her hand down his bare chest as Bucky threw the material to the floor.

Y/N took the opportunity to lift her sports bra the rest of the way off, letting it join Bucky’s t-shirt. He sat up between her legs, admiring her now fully naked form as he tugged his tracksuit pants off.

Bucky hovered back over her, his hands coming to rest either side of her head as he followed her eyes to where his metal arm fused with his skin. He gulped loudly as her hand came up towards the modification, her eyes meeting his to ask for permission.

Bucky nodded nervously, still in slight disbelief that she hadn’t run away yet. He felt her soft fingers trace the frame of the metal shoulder, following the boarder which connected to his flesh. His heart skipped a beat as she watched a soft smile cover her face, moving her eyes back up to meet his. “It’s so beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.” He smiled down at her bashfully, moving his hand to grab hold of hers as he leaned down towards her lips.

“My goodness, did I just hear old man Barnes call me-”

He cut off her sass with a kiss, a chuckle erupting from both of them as he shook his head. “Don’t ruin the moment.” She scrunched his face up with a smile, looking down at her dotingly.

“Sorry.” She giggled cheekily, wrapping her thighs around his hips as she pulled him closer. Her nails scratched lightly down his back as she lifted her head to kiss him again.

Bucky groaned, feeling his cock rub against her pussy lips. A moan escaped Y/N’s lips as she tugged on his hair, feeling his cock pushing back inside her.

“Fuck.” She let out in a whimper, her eyes big and innocent as she felt him bottom out inside of her. She tilted her head to the side, her other hand holding his chest as she deepened the kiss.

Bucky started fucking her deep and slow, feeling every clench of her needy pussy. He breathed heavily through his nose, short grunts vibrating in his throat as he twitched inside of her.

“Y/N,” He moaned deeply, letting their lips brush against each other as her breath tickled his face. “I love you.” He clenched his jaw as he felt his orgasm approaching fast.

Her tits bounced against his chest, her back arching at the feeling of him filling her sweet cunt with his cock. “I love you, Buck.” She let out with a cry, Bucky’s skin rubbing her throbbing clit as her thighs clenched around his body, a wave of euphoria erupted through her body.

“Oh, Bucky.” Her hips erratically bucked up to meet his, her pussy pulsing around him as she came. Her nails dug harder into his back, leaving imprints that would at least last a day.

“Fuck.” Bucky moaned into her neck, his brows furrowing into a frown as he muffled his grunts against her skin. The feeling of her coming on top of him had Bucky’s hands gripping tightly at the bedsheets. “I’m gunna cum.”

“Bucky,” She whimpered shyly, rubbing the back of his neck soothingly as she hugged him close, rolling her hips onto his. “Can you cum inside me?”

“You want me to?” He groaned softly, trying to stop himself from cumming so soon, but the feeling of her was too good.

“Please.” She nodded as Bucky turned his head to look at her, hovering his lips against hers for a second before pressing them against his passionately. He felt his orgasm hit, his hips rutting into her as he filled her with his cum.

Y/N looked down at where their bodies were connected, watching his cock slide into her overstimulated pussy as he rode out his high. She whimpered softly as she rubbed his shoulder soothingly, his softening cock slipping out of her.

Bucky looked down too, both watching as his cum dribbled out of her pussy. He smiled proudly before looking back up at her, tracing his finger over her cheek lightly. “Guess the team will be happy that this means our constant bickering will stop.” Bucky chuckled sweetly, looking down at her face.

“What does this mean?” She prodded him lightly with her finger, smiling up at him as she admired his gorgeous eyes.

“It means you’re my girl.” He mumbled before kissing her lips softly.

“Do I get a say in this at all?” She faked a shocked look and giggled in amusement, watching the cheeky smile appear on his face.

Bucky shook his head before kissing her again. “No.” He smiled softly, the feeling of pure happiness making him kiss her over and over.

“Okay, fine, I’ll be your girl.” She let out a fake sigh of exasperation, her heart thudding against her chest like she’d never felt before. “But I just have one question.”

“Okay.” Bucky dragged out the word suspiciously, sitting up on his knees as he rubbed the tops of her thighs.

“Do you honestly think me being your girlfriend means I’m not gunna still constantly annoy the shit out of you?” She let out lowly with a smirk, watching Bucky groan dramatically as he dropped down next to her on the bed, a huge smile on his face.

He knew she was right, but he didn't mind at all. In fact, he never minded before anyway.

tag list:

@harrysthiccthighss

@annestine

@bestofbucky

@be-patient-be-good

@nothing0is4here

@velvetcardiganbucky

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inkykeiji · 3 years

Text

you’re like a drug to me, a luxury, my sugar and gold

character: gojou satoru

genre: smut with a sprinkle of fluff at the end

notes: aaaaah first jjk fic ever!!!! uhhh this is honestly just pure smut and punishment, satoru is a Bad Daddy, and it’s set in a curseless AU | title cred: handclap by fitz and the tantrums

warnings: 18+ minors dni, dubcon/noncon, slight size difference/size kink, belly bulge, spanking with a belt, rough sex, minimal prep, minimal aftercare (at first), toxic and unhealthy relationship (satoru is mean n a bad daddy!), daddy kink/slightly implied ddlg dynamics, praise kink, dacryphilia

words: 3.1k

synopsis:

And although you can—and do—get away with a lot, you can’t get away with everything. A little brattiness he can handle, a little brattiness he thinks is cute. But on the days when you’re really misbehaving, purposefully (or not) breaking every rule, acting out and refusing to listen, rejecting any bargain or compromise with him at all—well, he’s only human.

And he snaps.

Gojou Satoru is a bad Daddy.

He’s a sweet Daddy, a silly Daddy, a Daddy who’s almost incapable of saying no. He’s a Daddy with a massive sweet tooth, a Daddy who frequently allows both of you to have dessert before dinner—sometimes dessert for dinner—and a Daddy who gives his princess nearly everything she desires, weak to your pretty pout and puppy-dog eyes and please, Daddy?’s. He hates to deny you, aches at the thought of you being even just a teensy bit displeased, because he wants his baby happy, always.

It’s his fault, really, you’re saying, insisting, when he calls you a spoiled brat. Because, honestly, it is; Satoru is entitled—he always has been, born with a not silver, not gold, but platinum spoon in his mouth—and his little princess is entitled, too.

Because he gives you anything and everything you ask for the moment the demand leaves your mouth, dotes on you hand and foot, absolutely adores you, lavishing you in the finest silks and prettiest lace, always indulging you just as much as he indulges himself—as much as he has always been indulged, growing up filthy rich.

Because you weren’t always like this; or, at least, you weren’t always this brash about it.

But years of getting exactly what you want, exactly when you want it, has forced your attitude to change, to shift.

You haven’t changed, Satoru tells you one day, a tub full of melty ice cream in his lap as he shovels another spoonful into your mouth, waning sun bathing the penthouse terrace in translucent gold and coral, brilliant colours reflected in his crystal eyes. “I didn’t do anything—I simply revealed your true nature,” A devious little smirk spreads across his lips, eyes glinting in an almost ominous nature, and you shiver. “You’ve always been a selfish materialistic brat, haven’t you?”

Well, you guess he has a point.

And he snaps.

It’s always something little, after a day full of disobedience, that does it, that finally lights the fuse and forces an explosion. Something that would normally be inconsequential, something he’d usually laugh off with a coo and a loving pat to your head.

Because you fought him on bedtime last night, then fought him on going to university this morning. You demanded pancakes for breakfast and when he denied them to you, because he’s got an important meeting in the afternoon and thus hasn’t the time to make them, you refused to eat anything at all—only to whine and bitch and complain about how starved you were for the entire duration of his conference. And yet, throughout it all, he was the perfect picture of patience, endlessly cool and nonchalant in his responses to your multiple tantrums.

Until you rushed into the kitchen in a famished frenzy, diving straight for the cookie jar and shoving three in your mouth.

“Sweets are not an appropriate dinner, baby,”

The words are sighed out in pure exasperation, his thumb and his forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose, lids shut tightly.

Eyebrows furrowing, you tilt your head in confusion, speaking around your mouthful. “Since when?”

His eyes snap open, blazing azure glaring at you with such an intensity it makes you flinch, cookie crumbs turning to ash in your mouth.

“Since forever,” he seethes, mask of impassivity finally beginning to break.

“What?” you laugh around the word, but it trembles. “What are you talking about? You rarely enforce that rule—especially since you don’t even follow it yourself!”

“It doesn’t matter,” he snaps, nostrils flaring with a particularly harsh exhale. “I am the boss, and what I say goes,”

“Daddy!” A sock-clad foot stomps against the marble floor as you whine out the word, arms crossing tightly over your chest. “That isn’t fair! You can’t just—”

“Enough with this attitude!” he snarls, moving like a crack of lighting as he lunges at you, lithe arms embracing you in an iron grip. “I can, and I will,”

And then he’s hauling you over his shoulder, one strong arm wrapped around you and pinning you draped over his body, delivering swift, harsh slaps to your ass every time you kick your feet or beat your fists against his back, while every whine and complaint earns you another spank in his mind, mentally tallying them up and vocalizing the thought a moment later.

“You’re being a meanie,”

“That’s twelve,” he growls.

“I don’t care!”

“Thirteen.”

“So what?”

“Fourteen.”

“That’s nothing,”

“Twenty-five.”

And that—that gets you to pause, but not to halt, not to stop, potent brattiness mixing with fury as it boils in your chest, the need to defy, to disobey, burning through your veins.

“I-I can handle that,”

“Thirty,” his voice is calm—serene, almost—and ice cold. There’s an underlying challenge sown into it, daring you to try him again, to utter another word. He’ll go higher, you can almost hear his apathetic voice floating through your mind; he’ll go as high as he needs to in order to teach such an ungrateful little brat a lesson.

Thirty it is.

The buckle of his favourite belt jingles as he undoes it, that dainty clink! forcing shivers to pebble across your naked skin, pressing your chest further into the foot of his bed, fingers curling in cashmere.

You’ve developed a love-hate relationship with that belt; it’s so fun when you get to undo it yourself, gentle fingers tugging and toying as you squirm eagerly in his lap, yet the clank and clattering of that heavy buckle as nimble fingers skillfully unfasten it and pull it from the loops of expensive trousers is almost menacing, carrying with it portentous threats it fully intends to see through.

He never warns you when the first strike is coming, reveling in the way your muscles are coiled in tension, in foreboding anticipation; basking in the surprised yelp that bubbles up in your throat.

“Relax,” he tells you with a callous chuckle, leather squealing between large, smooth hands as he folds it. “And count,”

It’s his usual response, predictable and scripted by this point, but he never seems to tire of it, notes of delight lacing his voice.

And that first blow never counts.

Gojou Satoru may be a bad Daddy by most standards, but his punishments are harsh, brutal, and cruel, and they happen to be one of the only things he takes seriously in life.

There’s rules to each of his punishments—so many rules he’s made you write them out multiple times, until your hand ached and fingers cramped and the heel of your palm was swollen, so they’d stick in that pretty empty little head of yours, so you never forget—and his spankings are no different.

You are not to move until he tells you to. You are not to speak unless spoken to. You are to count each lash, loud and clear before the next strike lands. Each mistake, each misstep and slip-up and refusal to comply, will earn you one extra slap. The tool is to be decided based on the severity of the offence.

The belt, all rigid rawhide and sharp edges, cuts into the supple flesh of your ass with each easy, nonchalant flick of his wrist, abrasively snapping against you.

Each collision of leather against flesh sears a tingly sting into your skin, biting rapidly rising welts into your ass and sending spiky jolts of agonizing pain bolting up your spine, the pain fading to a dull throb for just a moment before another blow is delivered.

“Gorgeous,” Satoru murmurs to himself halfway through your punishment, the word nothing more than a little huff of breath. You don’t dare respond, simply crying out the next number as he lands another harsh blow to your abused skin. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard a more beautiful sound, he continues, voice appearing faint and far away, mingling with the combined symphony of the crack of leather and pathetic whimpers muffled by sheets.

“It’s incredible,” he says, louder this time, voice dripping with wonderment, as if he can’t believe he’s created such a magnificent piece—the streaks of blood staining once perfect, unblemished skin; the high-pitched whines and sharp cries of each subsequent number; the resounding slap of the belt against your bare ass that evokes it all.

The whole thing sends a surge of intense power rushing through his veins, the tingling buzz it leaves behind enthralling and invigorating. You don’t need to look at him to know this, don’t need to see the way his eyes shine with it, the way his chest heaves with it, the way his entire body trembles with it—you can feel it in the atmosphere surrounding you, can feel the shift as his ego saturates the air, as his pure superiority bleeds into it, dense and suffocating, stimulating and revitalizing.

It infects your body, seeping in through your skin and flooding your veins, re-instills the need to be submissive, the ache to be good, providing you with the strength to endure.

The punishment lasts for forty-five excruciating minutes, accumulating a total of thirty three spanks—the extra three tacked onto your original punishment of thirty, one for each time you broke a rule. He’s on you in less than a second the moment it’s over, belt dropping to the rug-covered floor with a distinct thump as soft, eager palms roam your sweaty body, lips crushed against yours, still trembling as they spill pitiful whimpers into his mouth.

The luxurious bedroom—all cream and gold and drenched in sunlight—is blanketed by backhanded praises, warning you not to be a brat and just take what he gives. He’s sadistic when he gets in moods such as these, a feral glint in crystal eyes as large hands hastily flip you over—so fast it knocks a gasp of his name from your chest—seemingly unconcerned about the fresh blood oozing from the thin swollen welts that embellish your ass staining his thousand dollar sheets.

“Daddy needs you now,” he growls when you try to protest, breathing erratic as fingers flex on your hips, squeezing and kneading before pressing down hard, a silent order to stay fucking put. “And you’re going to be a good little girl for your Daddy now, aren’t you?”

Of course. Of course, because you are a good little girl, his good little girl.

But he’s a bad Daddy.

And, like a bad Daddy, he defers aftercare—it can wait, he practically snarls as he drags you to the edge of the bed, folding your legs up on either side of your body, knees nearly nudging your jaw; and foregoes prep almost entirely—two slender fingers slipping between your slick folds, prodding your hole and deeming you wet enough to take him.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t absolutely love it when he gets like this, when that façade of indifference finally shatters to pieces, replaced with desperation, with urgency, with neediness.

Your head lifts from the plush mattress, neck straining a little as you watch him push his trousers down his thighs through bleary eyes, residual dewdrops of tears clinging to spidery lashes. His cock bobs a little as he kicks the pants off, and it’s just as pretty as he is, smooth and symmetrical and perfect in every way.

“This would be part of your punishment,” he pants out, speaking over your cry of discomfort as he begins to shove his cock into you, little cunt aching as it attempts to accommodate the sudden intrusion. “If you didn’t love it so much, fucking slut,”

“Daddy!” The pet name claws its way up your throat in a yelp, hands scrabbling against his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh through his Armani button-up in an effort to steady yourself, eyes squeezing shut against the severe burn that accompanies the stretch. “Gonna—Gonna tear me in half,”

“You’d think you’d be used to this by now,” Satoru muses, voice already returning to its apathetic playful lilt now that he’s half buried in your cunt, breathing already calmed. A malicious little smirk decorates his lips and he observes you as if awestruck, one of his hands moving to trace the curve of your cheek, cold fingertips soft against your scalding skin.

“So beautiful like this,” he whispers as he finally bottoms out, hips pressed flush against the back of your thighs.

And you are, fresh tears that glitter the way his eyes do in the waning sun streaming down your cheeks, leaving the prettiest streaks of salt staining your flesh; lips swollen from merciless teeth sinking into them, an attempt to silence yourself, to keep those whines and complaints of Stop, Daddy! and Hurts, Daddy! safely stored in your throat.

Your little hole flutters around him, still struggling to adjust to his girth, and his head droops forward, long tongue unfurling from his mouth to lap at the bitter water adorning your face, slow languid strokes from your jaw to your bottom lashes, replacing shimmering tears with viscous saliva.

Saccharine sugar stings your nose, sticky toffee bathed in decadent chocolate and garnished with a touch of vanilla enveloping you in a sickly sweet embrace.

Such a scent—his scent—starkly opposes the vicious snapping of his hips, setting a merciless pace from the very start, blunt nails biting deep half-crescents into your flesh as they hold you in place.

But the pain only heightens the pleasure, contradicting sensations clashing together with every one of his brutal thrusts, cashmere feeling as rough as sandpaper against your raw, wounded ass. Thorns of pain pierce through your abdomen and shoot up your spine, back arching off the bed, and the muscles in your thighs flex and clench with every slam of his cockhead against your cervix.

It’s potent and intoxicating, a heady exhilaration clouding your brain and flooding your veins, and soon there are tears leaking from your eyes again, dribbling into your mouth and mixing with strings of drool that coat the words you’re babbling out.

Blood rushes in your ears, procuring a deafening ring, and you’re not even sure what you’re saying anymore, voice vibrating indistinctly in your chest as saliva soaked mewls ooze from your mouth. Your Daddy’s staring down at you, condescension etched into his pretty features, eyes morphing from dainty crystal to the navy of a tumultuous sea, framed by strands of cream and ivory dripping with sweat.

And he’s so big, too big, stuffing you full to the hilt with each ruthless piston of his hips, mattress trembling beneath you from the sheer strength; and it’s so much, too much, you swear you can feel him in your tummy, can see the way your lower abdomen cutely bulges in synchronization with every pounding thrust.

You must say it in some way, in some shape or some form, because the patronization varnishing his features melts away, sharp smirk dissolving into a genuine grin, blue eyes lightening with pure adoration.

“Such a good girl,” you think he’s saying, through it’s hard to tell when your eyelids keep drooping, hard to hear when a symphony of broken moans and hitched whimpers and the sharp slapping of skin against skin blanket the room, reverberating off the walls of your skull. “You’re such a good, good girl for me,”

Yes, Daddy, you want to say, such a good girl for you, only for you.

“Y-Yours,” you manage instead, locking your arms around his neck and clinging to him.

“Mine,” he growls, possessiveness lacquering his eyes, brilliant and bright and shining with devotion. “That’s right, mine,”

It only takes another three thrusts before you’re gushing all over his cock, the intense spasming of your cute little cunt drawing the prettiest whines from the back of his throat as he rams into you.

“Beg for it,” he demands, and although it’s an order, it comes out more like a plead, desperation sown into his voice. “Beg for Daddy’s cum,”

You obey immediately, words spilling from your lips without a second thought, automatic and instinctual. Please, Daddy, gimme your cum? Please, please, pretty please, want your cum, Daddy, fill my belly with it, Daddy, I need it, need it so bad, please?

He gives you what you want only a moment later, cock throbbing almost violently as he fills you with thick, scalding cream—so much that you’re sure it’s dribbling out of you, trickling down your ass and onto his pristine sheets—and you roll your hips up, attempting to milk him for more.

“G-Greedy,” he pants out, but there’s a dazzling smile slapped across his face, and so much love in his eyes it’s nearly overwhelming, a fresh wave of tears casting a gleaming shield across your own.

He notices immediately, both of you wincing a little as he pulls out, a wrecked little whine escaping your mouth.

“My poor little princess,” he’s saying as he untangles his briefs—Balenciaga, this time—from his trousers, abandoned in a heap on the hardwood.

“Daddy,” you rasp, a frown marring his face, fingers encircling your ankles as he helps you unfold your stiff legs.

“I know, I know,” he’s murmuring as gentle hands pull the soft clothing up your silky thighs. “It hurts, I know baby, Daddy’s gonna make it feel better now,”

A shiver courses through your body, and he tuts, nimble fingers making quick work of the buttons on his shirt, shrugging it off before he hoists you up and drapes it over your shoulders, tenderly threading your arms through the sleeves.

It’s cozy, and warm, infused with his scent—melted sugar and expensive cologne—and you snuggle into it, weak arms pulling the material tighter around your body, swathing it in comfort. Tears prick your eyes again, blearily blinking them clear as you glance up to find him backing away. A noise of indignance sounds in the back of your throat, eyebrows knitting together as you make grabby hands for him.

“I’ll be right back, princess,” he reassures you as he laces your fingers together and allows you to pull him back towards you, voice soothing like a lullaby. Fingers trail along the curve of your cheek then trace the line of your jaw, palms smoothing hair back from your face. “Daddy’s just going to go get the first aid kit so he can clean you up, okay?”

“‘N then food?”

He coos with a little chuckle, cupping your head as he tilts it up towards him, eyes overflowing with fondness.

“Yeah, baby, and then food. Whatever you want, it’s yours,”

Gojou Satoru may be a bad Daddy, but he is also your Daddy, and that makes him the best Daddy.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #OKAY I'M GOING TO BEEEED NOW #IT'S LIKE FOUR THIRTY IN THE MORNING #tw daddy kink #tw noncon

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hops-hunny · 3 years

Text

Angels on Earth

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Chubby!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.8k

Request: “CONGRATS ON 300 FOLLOWERS!!!! I love your writing sm <3

this is my first time ever making a request and recently I found out that the person I was dating is still in love with their ex so I'm looking for comfort rn hehe

could you do a 23, 33, 35 with Ron, a mix of fluff and smut? chubby/plus size fem reader please”

Summary: Ron thought he was obvious, but it was clear (Y/n) was more obvious.

Warnings: Sexual themes

A/N: This took a while but I’ve also been busy but, enjoy!

23. “Cause I never believed there was a heaven till I found you.”

33. “Would you fuck me if I was skinny?” “I’d fuck you right now.”

35. “If you wanted a kiss you should’ve just said so.”

For as long as Ron could remember, he had always found his potions partner to be beautiful. Who could blame him? (Y/n) was a beautiful girl. Round cheeks, soft all around, beautiful (h/c) hair, and the prettiest set of (e/c) eyes he had ever seen. But that wasn’t originally what drew him in, it was everything else. (Y/n) had an aura that surrounded her that was so bright, so full of life. Everyone who befriended her was always in a positive mood, smiles seen left and right from the jokes she’d tell. Even right now, with her hair pulled back from her face and the cute little goggles she insisted on wearing, he couldn’t help but admire her.

“Right. I think that should be it.” She said, pushing the goggles up her face as she turned her head to look at him. His face flushed and if she had noticed, she didn’t say much. “That is unless you fucked something up. Merlin knows how bad you are with Potions Weasley.” she giggled, his heart pulling and racing in his chest.

“Oi! ‘M not that bad. Plus you didn’t let me touch anything, should be fine unless you managed to make a mistake.” He leaned towards her a bit with a devious smirk. “But it’s impossible for you to do that isn’t it? I forgot you were just a perfect princess.” He pulled away, eyes trained on the potion in the cauldron in front of them. Amortentia, was it? He found it a bit strange because he couldn’t smell anything but the girl’s perfume no matter how far he leaned in. In his own state of confusion, he completely missed the girl’s own shocked look on her face.

“What do you smell?” she questioned, gathering her things due to the period drawing to a close. His eyes widened at his realization before calming down. Now was a better time than ever. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before sighing.

“You.” his eyes shot open at the sound of a snort. (Y/n) had made her way towards the exit of the potions room, (e/c) eyes rolling at him as she shot him a smile. She went to leave the room before giving him an up and down.

“If you wanted a kiss you should’ve just said so.” she teased, shooting him a wink before exiting the room. He groaned, rubbing his hands up and down his face as he adjusted the awkward bulge in his pants. He stood, gathering his things as he huffed to himself.

“I’m in deep aren’t I?” he said out loud, ignoring the look his slimy potion’s teacher gave him. Without another word, he left continuing on his path to his next dreadful class of the day.

------------------------

“She probably thought you were joking.” Harry said, causing Ron to give him a glare. Even though there was a big possibility that Harry was right, he didn’t want to believe him. He thought his attempt was a good one! He was direct about what he meant, right?

“He’s got a point. You guys usually joke around and mess with each other a lot. She probably thought you were cracking a joke. Have you tried just telling her how you feel?” Luna asked as if the answer was obvious. Ron felt his brow twitch as he sighed, sinking down in his seat more as he threw his head back.

“What can be more obvious than saying you smell someone in your Amortentia? Do you guys even think?” He questioned.

“Do you? Cause if you did then you’d know that was a poor attempt.” Hermione chimed. Although at first he was sure his attempt was good, that it was obvious, suddenly he was beginning to have second thoughts. Was he clear enough? Sure, you could say one thing but he’d be the first to admit his actions didn’t match. He huffed, looking at his friends, desperation hidden in his eyes.

“Well, what should I say then?”

“Say something truthful! Let your heart speak for what your actions couldn’t.” Ginny chimed, causing them all to give her a strange look. She crossed her arms, looking away with red cheeks. “What? I think I’d know what chicks like, I do shag em afterall.”

“So tell us, what does your heart say Ron?” Luna asked, he sighed as he racked his brain. He liked her a lot. How could he not? (Y/n) was beautiful, a gift from the heavens above. The softness of her skin, the roundness of her tummy, and those beautiful luscious thighs. He was surprised no one else had made a move on her yet. She was kind too, always willing to help her fellow (y/h/h) in need.

A lovesick dopey look took over his face. “I...I’d say…” he let out a dreamy noise as hearts took over his eyes, “I never believed there was a heaven till I found you. Never believed angels walked among us at Hogwarts, that I think she’s amazing and I-”

“Okay ew that’s enough. I’m gonna be sick. Save it for her.” his sister said, grimacing as she stood up. “And with that note, I’m gone. Why not tell her at the Gryfindor party tonight? I’m sure she’ll be there!” Ron gulped nervously. That soon? Surely a few hours wasn’t enough time to prepare! Maybe he’d try in a few months…

However as he looked across the hall, seeing some twit practically eye fucking her, it was settled. Tonight he would tell her and if not, he’d at least make some progress.

-----------------------------------------------------

Ron let out a shaky deep breath, wiping his sweaty hands along the front of his jeans. Whether it was the sweltering heat of all the warm bodies, the shots he had taken, or the thought of what he had set out to do tonight he didn’t know, but either way he was burning like a phoenix. His eyes trailed the room nervously, looking for (Y/n). How was he sure she’d be here anyways? She wasn’t a frequent attender to parties, only showing up to them sporadically. However at the sound of a familiar laugh-snort combo, he had all he needed.

In his buzzed(and slightly drunken) haze, he followed the sound blindly, face heating up at the girl's appearance. She wore a blush colored bodycon dress that clung to the folds and curves of her body nicely.. Her hair was styled differently than usual, but suited her perfectly nonetheless. Most things did. And when she saw him? Her face broke out in a bright smile as she hiccuped, handing her half empty cup to one of her friends. She stumbled her way over to him. He steadied her by placing his hand on her waist, looking down at her.

“Ronnn! Omg Ronnie, what’re you doing here?” she hiccuped again, giggling as she stared up at him. He smiled back at her softly, stroking along the softness of her waist.

“ I could ask you the same thing, love, you’re not much of a drinker usually.” he placed a hand on her cheek, thankful for the liquid courage flowing through his system. “You alright? Come on, let’s sit you down. You don’t seem to be too steady.” he said, guidning her towards the couch. When they got there, he expected her to sit next to him but was in shock as she parked herself in his lap. She wrapped an arm around his neck, smiling down at him drunkenly. He handed her a glass of water, the same one he had been handed earlier when he was getting a bit out of hand. She thanked him, sipping on it at a slow pace.

After a few minutes, the hiccuping and giggles had died down from her, leaving her to form goosebumps at their current position. She was fully seated on the boy’s lap and he had his arms wrapped around her, rubbing his fingers along her soft pudgy sides. She bit her lip as she looked off to the side, before bringing her eyes back to his.

“Uh, Ron,” she started, looking down as she picked at the skin around her nail beds. Letting out a deep sigh, she continued, “Can I ask you something?” her heart began to race rapidly as she looked at him, watching as he nodded before offering her a soft smile.

“Course. What’s up?” How should she phrase it? Should she be simple? Should she-

“Would you fuck me if I was skinny?” she blurted out, eyes widening. Although she had wanted to ask him something about if he was attracted to her, she hadn’t intended on being so...bold. She was known for speaking her mind but not in situations like this! In a state of panic, she went to stand up but was pulled down by a strong pair of arms, pulling her close to an even stronger, toned chest. He chuckled in her ears, hair tickling the edge of her neck.

“Shit princess, I mean...I’d fuck you right now.” his grip on her sides tightened, trailing one hand on her thigh. Out of all the things she could’ve said, this was the last one Ron expected. (Y/n), his snarky potions partner, in his lap in that god forsaken dress asking if he’d fuck her. He felt his own heart begin to race. Did she mean to say it? Well, did she mean to say it to him? Or did she just want his opinion for someone else?

“O-oh.” she stuttered out. (Y/n) pulled back some, turning her head to look at him, finding that his eyes instantly were drawn to hers.

“Do you mean that?” they both asked. Ron’s cheeks turned red as (Y/n) felt her own face grow warm. Both of them let out breaths they didn’t even know they were holding, laughing with one another.

“I meant it but, did you?” she asked, breath hitching of the closeness of their faces to one another. She could smell the fire whiskey mixed with hints of cannabis and weed mixing with it making her absolutely intoxicated. He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers.

“‘Course I did, love. You don’t have to be skinny for me to do anything with you, let alone fuck you. Because trust me,” he trailed a hand along her upper thigh, sliding it between the soft expanse of them. “It’d be my pleasure to fuck a woman with a body like yours. A woman so soft, so tender, bet that cunt of yours is tight and dripping. Isn’t it?” the girl squeaked, clenching her thighs around his hand. He leaned down, pecking her lips softly before pulling away, (Y/n) whimpering in a desperate attempt to let him know she wanted more..

“And if I were to grant you that pleasure right now?” she purred, placing a soft hand on his cheek which he gladly leaned into, a dark chuckle leaving his lips.

“I’d be the luckiest man alive.”

#ron weasley x you #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x y/n #ronald weasley x reader #ron weasly imagine #ron x reader #ron x you #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter #chubby reader #x chubby reader #chubby!reader #plus size reader #x plus size reader

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arizona2004 · 3 years

Text

Who the Real Wolves Are. part 5

Azriel x reader

word count:

warnings: Smut

When I wake in the morning, I turn to find Azriel still sleeping next to me. It’s early enough to still be dark out; even Cassian is sleeping at this hour. I notice I’m wearing one of Azriel’s shirts that are far too big for me and smile. Scooting closer to him, I drape an arm and leg over his body, soaking in his warmth, and fall back asleep.

When I wake again, he isn’t beside me, but the bed is still warm, and I can hear the water running in the bathroom. The water turns off, and a slight splashing sounds as Azriel climbs into the tub. Suddenly heat pools between my legs at the thought of Azriel naked only a few feet away. I close my legs, rubbing my thighs together, and don’t let myself think about the idea I got as I quickly stand and walk into the bathroom. Azriel looks up, and just as quickly as the confidence had come, it disappears. But I’m already in here, the closed-door at my back.

“Good morning,” Az says, morning voice still gravelly.

It makes my core heat, and I know he knows as he suddenly sniffs the air between us, “Can I join you,” I take a few steps forward. He doesn’t say anything, so I slip out of my panties. “I won’t look. Promise,” I say, stepping into the tub. As I lower myself into the water, I slowly lift the shirt so that it doesn’t touch the water. His eyes never leave mine, though. Just as my ribs hit the water, I slip one arm from the shirt and use it to cover my breasts as I pull it the rest of the way off and throw it to the side.

We’re seated across from one another. Azriel with his legs out in front of him, feet on either side of my butt. And me with my knees pulled up to my chest, forearms resting across them. He still hasn’t said anything. I bite my lip nervously, regretting this when he says, “don’t do that.”

I look back at him, confused, “do what?”

“Bite your lip like that.”

Azriel’s pov

As inconspicuously as possible, I move my hands to cover my groin. Not because I’m embarrassed, I just don’t need her seeing how easily she made me hard. My cock is aching to feel her and has ever since she walked into this bathroom smelling the way she did. Wanting. It’s not as bad as last night, though. I love you, she had said. As if anything could have made me harder. The second the words left her lips, my heart stopped beating, and blood rushed to my cock. When I turned around, though, she was already asleep. And now here she is naked in the bath across from me, biting her lip. If only it were my teeth tugging that lip.

One of her legs gently pushed away from her body and ran along my own leg, “you seem tense. If you want I could give you a massage. She pushed up to her knees and moved closer to me. Before she could get too much closer, I stood as fast as I could and grabbed the towel from the rack, wrapping it around my waist.

“You probably shouldn’t. I have to work, so I’ll see you later.”

Y/N pov

He just left. Maybe he doesn’t want to have sex with me. Maybe he isn’t aroused by me. I honestly hoped that was it because that was better than him running away because of what I said last night. It was better than him not loving me.

The rest of the morning Azriel studiously avoids me, and when we end up in the same room he avoids my gaze. Quickly anxious thoughts fill my mind. My stomach churns, and for the rest of the day, I feel as though I need to empty my stomach. When I end up in Feyre’s painting room with Mor draped on a lounge talking about a female she bedded last night, I can’t help but blurt out my inner thoughts.

“Azriel doesn’t want to have sex with me,” I cringe. The words come out quickly and louder than I intended. “Or he might not be in love with me at all. I don’t really know; I told him I love him, but-” I ramble until Mor cuts me off.

“You told him you love him?” By now, Feyre’s put her brush down, and both females are facing me. “Did he say it back?”

I start shaking my head slowly, “I fell asleep.”

“You haven’t talked to him?” Feyre asks.

“I tried to do something this morning. I don’t know. I just joined him in the tub, hoping we could do something, ya know? But he left pretty quickly, and he hasn’t mentioned lat night.”

Mor and Feyre glance at one another, “Just talk to him,” Feyre suggests.

“Yeah. be really upfront about it.”

I didn’t even need to finish my sentence before Feyre agreed to fly me up to the house of wind. She left me on the balcony with instructions to the training room before returning to her painting. I paced the halls before I even got the courage to go to the training rooms. When I did, though, I was more confident than I wished I’d been. I walked straight in and shouted, “Do you love me?” as soon as I met Azriel's eyes across the room.

A slight cough sounded to my left. I turned to see Cassian, but a second later, he and Rhys shuffled out of the room. My cheeks turned red, and Azriel moved to stand. He looked a little startled when I asked, but now his expression was carefully blank.

“If you don’t, that's okay. I just can’t stand not knowing,” I mumble, looking down.

He lifts my chin with a finger and looks straight into my eyes, “how could you ever think I didn’t love you?” he says, “I’ve always loved you.”

My heart like it skips 3 beats, “Always?”

“Always. Well, since I met you anyways.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I just don’t understand. You love me. But you don’t want to have sex with me,” I said questioningly.

He releases a huff of laughter, “Is that what this is about? This morning?”

“You’ve been avoiding me since last night.”

“Last night? You mean when you drunkenly told me you love me and passed about before I could even turn around?”

Another blush rises to my cheeks, “I didn’t feel drunk when I said it. And just because I was doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it.”

A grin spreads across his cheeks, “so you love me then?”

“Of course I love you, Az. But you still haven’t told me why you don’t want to have sex with me.”

Somehow his grin widens even more, “You were grieving, and last night you were also drunk, then this morning I wasn’t sure you still weren’t, and I wasn’t sure you loved me. I wanted to wait until you loved me. But none of that is any reason not to have sex now.”

I redden more, taking a step back, “not here,” I whisper out.

“No?”

This really isn’t how I imagined it would be. Not here.”

“But a bathroom at 7 am is how you imagined it?” he smirks.

“That was different,” he raises his eyebrows in question, “I just had an urge then.”

His eyes sparkled with delight at that, “And right now you don't have the feral urge to pounce on me?” he asks with that insufferable smirk.

I let my eyes glance over his sweaty muscled body for only a second before backing away, resisting the urge to let him take me now, “I’ll see you at dinner tonight,” I open the door at my back now, “and then I hope to see a lot more of you after that,” I step out the door, leaving it slightly jarred behind me.

His laughter sounds as I walk back down the hall, “smooth,” I hear him say in the distance.

After Rhys drops me off at the River house, I head straight inside and up to the bedroom. I spend the better part of the afternoon bathing in lavender and doing my hair. When I dress, I slip on some of the blue lacey underthings Feyre made me buy before stepping into a short white dress. I paint my face with some light makeup and walk downstairs. Dinner isn’t ready, so I walk into the sitting room where Rhys is watching Nyx. Carefully, I sit on the floor to play with him. Minutes later, when Azriel walks in, Nyx is in my lap, squishing my cheeks together. Azriel stops in the doorway, looking at me, “what,” I ask.

“Nothing. You just look really beautiful, is all,” he says, before panicking slightly and adding in a rush, “not that you don’t always look beautiful. Because you do.”

I laugh quietly, turning back to Nyx, babbling in my lap. “Dinner’s ready,” Feyre calls from the dining room. I lift Nyx up to Rhys, letting him flip the giggling child over his shoulder to dangle down behind his back.

Azriel helps me to my feet and walks by my side into the dining room. As soon as the food was served, Azriel placed a hand on my thigh, running a finger in circles. I sipped wine, trying to ignore him, but slowly the circles rose, and Azriel's fingers were above the hem of my dress. When he did finally stop, it was only to spread his palm over my thighs and squeeze, slipping his fingers between them, inching them apart. I tried bearing the teasing, but when Azriel’s fingers grazed my clit I had to snap my legs shut and pry his fingers away.

He kept to himself for the remainder of dinner, thankfully. But as soon as the plates were clearing away, he found any and every excuse to touch me. He hardly said anything, only shooting me devious smirks. After a few more minutes, we quietly excused ourselves, but I’m sure everyone knew what was going on anyways.

As soon as we turned out of view of the others, Azriel turned me around and started kissing me as he walked us to the bedroom. His lips were soft, and his tongue was harsh as he kissed me. Pushing me against the door, he fumbled for the handle. When the door was finally pushed open, his hands instead found my hips, and his lips started kissing down my neck as he pushed me back against the door, letting it slam shut.

Azriel's hands started sliding from my hips back toward my hips, but then he stopped, pulling back altogether, “If you’re not ready, that’s okay. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he said.

“Oh, I definitely want to,” I reply, pushing him back onto the bed. A look of shock passes over his face, but he lets me climb on top of him. I sit on his thighs, leaning my hands on his chest to run his shirt up. It takes a moment to maneuver it around his wings, but once it's off, I run hands over his abs. Not wanting to leave even a little but untouched. He groans slightly, as I run a finger over one of his nipples. I smirk and lean forward to place a kiss on the peaked nipple. He groans louder now. It’s a deep low noise, and it is wonderful, “I take it back,” I say, looking up to him.

“What?” he asks, confused.

“I take back what I said about your laugh being the most beautiful noise I’ve ever heard. That noise. That’s the most beautiful noise I’ve ever heard.

His lips find mine again, and I’m swept away into oblivion. Gripping my thighs, Azriel pulls me up to it on his lower abdomen. His hands find their way to my ass and squeeze gently. I spend many minutes kissing his neck, marking him wherever I can. Then he starts pulling me further up his body, and I gasp as I’m pulled to sit directly above his face. Azriel just gives me a wicked grin before disappearing below my dress.

He drags a finger over my slit before pulling the fabric of my patines gently to the side. His tongue darts out to lick between my folds. I start collapsing forward and have to grip the headboard just to keep myself up. Azriel chuckles below me, and my legs start shaking, and I let a moan out at the feeling it sends to my core. He sucks my clit into his mouth and works magic with his tongue. I feel myself climbing toward an edge I’ve only ever found with my fingers and clench around nothing. Just as I’m about to release, however, Azriel pulls back. Then suddenly, he’s pushing me down his body and flipping us over and, in the blink of an eye, I’m laying where he had just been, and he’s kneeling above me, face wet with my juices.

“You taste absolutely divine,” he says, voice low. Then his hands are under my dress, and he’s dragging it up and over my head. After tossing it to the ground, he turns back to me, and his eyes darken as he finally gets a look at me in the lingerie. He traces the lace over my breasts before pulling a strap down slightly to suck a nipple into his mouth. I moan loud, wrapping my legs around his waist.

His lips move up to my neck. He kisses roughly and bites gently. I’m a moaning mess beneath him, begging for more. “Please, Azriel. I need you,” I whine.

Pulling back, finally, he removes the bra and starts tugging the panties down my legs. My legs lift straight into the air as he pulls them off my ankles, but instead of letting my legs fall, he pulls them to his shoulders. Looking me in the eyes, he starts unbuckling his pants. That’s where my gaze rests until he says, “If you wanna stop. At any point at all. Just say so, and I’ll stop. Promise.” I nod in response, still looking at his eyes when he pulls his pants and underwear down in one swift motion.

He leans forward, pushing my legs to my chest as he pulls his pants off his legs. He lets my right leg fall from his shoulder and wrap around his waist instead, but still holds my other leg. My hands roam his chest, and my lips press to his, silently asking him to continue. I lick the seam of his lips, and a second later, his tongue darts from his mouth into mine.

He presses meg closer to my chest and lines his cock up with my entrance. Nudging at my wetness, he groans and begins pushing in. Finally, I look down at the massive size of him. There’s no way that’ll fit, I think, but Azriel continues and slowly pushes into me.

My head falls back against the pillows, and I whimper. “Fuck! You’re wet,” Az groans. He continues pushing his cock into me and lowers my other leg to lean forward all the way. I clench my walls around him as he enters entirely. We both moan at the tight feeling. Azriel rests his hands on either side of my head and pulls out slightly before pushing himself back in. Tears stream down my face, but after a few more minutes of his gentle thrusts, the pain has practically gone, and all that is left is pleasure.

I grip his shoulders and press my face into his neck, “faster Azriel. Please, faster,” I moan. Az obliges immediately and picks up the pace. He grips my hips and roughly thrust in and out. It only takes a minute before I cum around his cock, a screaming moan escaping my throat. Seconds later, Azriel follows, looking into my eyes he cums in me, moaning, “y/n.”

A moment later, he’s pulling out and watching his sticky white cum pool out of me. He bites his lip, obviously getting aroused by the sight, before standing and walking to the bathroom. He returns with a warm cloth in his hand and cleans the both of us up.

When he’s done and laying by my side, he pulls me close, “are you going to say something,” he asks, “or just lay here silently, making me wonder if you hated it.”

I laugh slightly, tucking myself into the side of his body, “I definitely didn’t hate it. It was wonderful, Az. Thank you.”

“Happy to oblige,” he murmurs, kissing the top of my head just before we both fall asleep.

The next part will be the last and is just a list of headcanons I have for their future together. I didn’t want to make this story a long one

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel smut #Azzie #acotar smut #a court of thorns and roses #nyx acotar #rhysand #feyre archeron #feyre acotar

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

Private Show (Choi Jongho) Rated

Pairing: Choi Jongho × Exotic Dancer! Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Slight Fluff, Idol AU.

Summary: Knowing the maknae has been lusting for a certain expensive stripper, Yunho arranges a private dance just for him that includes a little bonus gift.

Word Count: 4.4K+

Warnings: Strip clubs, exhibitionism, voyeurism, pole dancing, masturbation, breast play, lap dance, spanking unprotected sex (always use protection), cum facial.

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Paying no mind to the lovely lady that was currently running her fingers through his hair, Jongho's eyes kept wandering around the bright, neon lighted room, shifting around in his seat at times so that it would be easier to see the stage in front of him. The girl, feeling a bit disappointed to be slighted as such, turned her attention over to his companion, who was more than eager to accept her little dance on his lap. His large hands fought hard to keep them at his sides, knowing fully well the rules of not touching the exotic dancers. But there was certainly no rule about the girls touching the clients and some, like the bubbly and energetic one currently grinding on Yunho's lap, were more than happy to get a little handsy with them. He couldn't help the excited giggle as he tilted his head so she could glide her tongue down the side of his neck, loving every second of the attention he was getting. Noticing that his younger friend was hardly enjoying himself, Yunho sighed before taking out a couple bills from his pocket and holding it out for the young seductress. Wanting to leave him with one last souvenir, the stripper pulled one of the straps of her glittery bra down, allowing the male idol to get a glimpse of her nipple. Biting his lip, Yunho discreetly placed the bundle of cash inside her garment, sighing blissfully as he watched her saunter off to go entertain another man.

"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself." He pointed out as he looked at Jongho with a curious gaze.

"Maybe because I'm just not into these types of things..?" Jongho shrugged as he reached for the glass that was on the table in front of him.

"Bet you wouldn't be saying that if Y/N was the one performing."

Yunho smirked when Jongho sipped on his drink too harshly, lightly letting out a cough after choking on the alcoholic liquid.

"What?"

Yunho rolled his eyes at his friend.

"Oh come on dude, you practically drool and get hard everytime she's on stage."

Jongho lowered himself in his seat, gaze wandering uncomfortably across the glittery floor underneath him. Chuckling in an endearing tone, Yunho patted Jongho's back affectionately.

"Awww. Does the Ateez' baby have a little crush on the hot stripper?" He teased him.

"What?! N-no..." Jongho furrowed his eyebrows, moving away from Yunho as far as he was able to in their seating booth.

"I mean, I honestly don't blame you. There's a reason she's the most sought after and expensive dancer in this place."

Catching sight of one of the bouncers heading their way, Yunho inwardly smiled to himself as the plan he had devised was about to come into action, the main highlight of why he had dragged Jongho down to the club with him, albeit with very little resistance from the younger male.

"Excuse me sir? Miss Y/N is ready to receive you in the private room."

Widening his eyes at the bouncer's announcement, Jongho whipped his head over at Yunho, who had the biggest and somewhat unnerving grin plastered on his face, almost as if he was taunting the maknae. Jongho especially felt somewhat slighted when his Hyung dared to produce his infamous black card out of his pocket, waving it around in front of the other's unamused face.

"Of fucking course you'd be able to afford a private dance with her." Jongho rolled his eyes, trying to seem as though it didn't bother him that Yunho had actually gone out of his way to book a personal session with the most desired woman in the establishment.

"Black card privilege my friend." Yunho giggled, putting his card safely back in his wallet after making sure to flex it.

"Oh suck it." Jongho grumbled, no longer to hide his annoyance at not being capable of affording exclusive time with a sexy woman who could charge 6 digits an hour solely because she was that gorgeous and lavish to look at.

Slumping an arm over his malcontent friend, Yunho leaned in to finally speak out the crucial part in his devious plan.

"Jongho, I booked the private dance for you kiddo."

With mind unable to believe Yunho's words, Jongho looked at the older male in confusion and almost as if he was in a daze. Chuckling, Yunho cupped his younger member's face and closed his agape lips.

"Don't drool just yet, you haven't even seen her."

Slipping himself out of his seat, Yunho extended his hand out towards Jongho, helping him up before proceeding to lead him out of the main hall and up the stairs. Jongho felt the pounding of his heart resonating in his ears, mouth slightly feeling dry the closer they approached the door of the private room. Gulping as he realized just behind those 2 doors he'd be faced with the very personification of his lustful desires, Jongho's hand slightly trembled as he reached for the doorknob. Snorting softly at the younger member's hesitation, Yunho leaned in and opened the door for him.

"Trust me Jongho, Y/N is actually very nice and will make sure you're comfortable at all times." Yunho assured him whilst simultaneously pushing him inside.

"How the hell do you know that?" Although Jongho's inquiry was more as a mental question towards himself, he was not ready for Yunho's answer.

"It's not the first time I've spent money for a one on one session with her-"

"Uh what?!"

Without getting any further explanation, Jongho watched as Yunho waved him a goodbye and closed the door, the light beeping sound letting him know that it was secured with a lock. Turning around, Jongho looked around and admired the soft pink aesthetic the room had been decorated with. It had a somewhat innocent and angelic vibe to it, which he didn't particularly dislike. In fact, he thought it was rather cute as in his mind he was already picturing a deep red lighting and a bunch of chains rattling across the walls. It was a pleasant contrast.

"I'm glad you seem to like the decor, I was here to make sure every detail would be to your liking."

Whipping his head towards the voice that startled him with their presence, Jongho's breath was caught when he saw none other than Y/N leaning against one of the walls, lips curled up in that mesmerizing smile of hers that never failed to melt him. With slow steps, she approached him, a completely tactic and intentional move so he'd be able to check her out from head to toe, and boy did he make use of it. He licked his lips as he took in her off white costume, consisting of a pearl beaded and lace bra that made sure to push up her soft looking breasts in the most alluring way, matching lace panties that had pearl studded clasps at the hip sides, no doubt intended for fast and hassle free removal. Her legs were accentuated by thigh high white stockings and the criminally high platform heels that helped her figure look elongated and more graceful. Her abdomen was decorated with a diamond belly chain that was fitted around her waist, a tiny pink butterfly pendant dangling in the middle, matching the pendant on the diamond choker that adorned her captivating neck. She had gone a lot more softer than she usually other for on her makeup, blush pink and soft coral main the focal points on the apples of her cheeks and lips, barely any color on her eyes save for the winged eyeliner that helped make her eyes look more enigmatic. Several parts of her body had been brushed with sparkling highlighter, mainly focusing on her shoulders, cheekbones, collarbone and the sides of her arms and thighs. Her hair was even styled differently, soft curled ends piled up into two half ponytails, the rest of her hair let down in similarly styled waves except for the long parted bangs that helped frame her face into having a more cutesy and angelic aura.

"Of course...." Her silky voice brought him out of his trance, making him focus his attention on her words.

"I did have a little help. Your friend told me a few things you seemed to favor." Her soft and semi mischievous giggle made him feel slightly abashed with himself.

Coming up close to him, Y/N took hold of his face, slightly squishing them in an affectionate manner.

"Don't be shy baby. Just sit back, relax and enjoy the show. Leave everything to me."

A soft gasp escaped Jongho's mouth when she playfully pushed him to sit on the cushioned seat behind him, nearly falling off but managing to catch himself before that happened. Strutting over to the pole in the middle of the room, Y/N looked at him and sent him a heart fluttering wink.

As if on cue, the lights dimmed just a bit as a slow and sensual song started to play. Whipping her hair around, Y/N's arm outstretched itself to take a firm hold of the pole. Kicking one leg off the floor and using it as momentum, it stayed outstretched while her other leg bent around the pole as well, helping her to spin around expertly the pole. No matter how many times he'd see her do it, Jongho could never stop himself from whispering a soft 'wow' at how effortlessly and natural she made it seem when he knew very well it took a lot of strength to execute such a move.

Spinning around a few turns, she carefully planted her feet back on the ground. Making sure she was facing Jongho, she kept one arm on the metal bar behind her as her body slowly slid down, back supported on the pole. She made sure to keep her legs parted, hips swaying side to side in rhythm with the music, her free hand caressing her bare inner thigh with a teasing motion. Once down on the floor, she stayed on her knees as she trailed her hands up her torso, cupping her breasts and giving them a hard squeeze. Jongho widened his eyes when he watched her turn her back to him, still on her knees as her hands reached up to unhook her bra. He watched with anticipation as she peeled the straps off her shoulders, taking it off one arm, then the other until it was tossed across the room.

"Oh fuck-" He groaned when he came face to face with her bare chest for the first time since he started going over to the club. Being such a popular dancer, Y/N only fully stripped in settings like this, private room to wealthy paying customers, a privilege he now got to experience thanks to Yunho.

Taking hold of her breasts once more, she kneaded them between her palms, letting out a hiss as she purposefully pinched them to make them as hard as possible. As if the sight couldn't get more erotic, she lifted her hips slightly off the ground and proceeded to roll her hips up into the air, giving Jongho the perfect imagery of how she would look if she was on top of him, dick filling her pussy. After playing with her perky tits enough for his amusement, she got up once more and went back to the pole. Holding onto it, one hand a few inches away from the other, she lifted her body up and kept her legs spread as she spun around in a straddle spin. She made sure to keep a cheeky smile towards the man watching her performance, noticing that his hand began to rub dangerously close to his very obvious hard on.

"Oh sweet boy, don't worry, I won't keep you waiting." She giggled inwardly to herself.

Expertly, she spun herself down, legs further spreading as the eased into a middle split onto the floor. Y/N didn't stay long in that position, quickly bringing her knees together as she used the pole to help her get up off the floor. Circling around to be in front of Jongho once more, she turned around once more and bent down to touch her ankles. Her hands then proceeded to glide up her legs until they reached up to her barely covered ass cheeks. Wanting to play with him more, she playfully gave her ass a rather mild slap and if she had been able to she would have seen the effect it had on Jongho, the idol lightly jolting up from his seat as one of his hands twitched against his lap. Hands coming up to her hips, her fingers quickly snapped open the pearl decorated clasps on her underwear, the garment dropping fast onto the floor just like Jongho's mouth.

"Oh my god.." Was all he could mutter as he gazed at Y/N's bare pussy that was tempting him to go over and eat it up. Y/N did not make it any easier as her fingers once again reached back to spread her folds apart, letting him see just how wet and glistening they were. Feeling aroused and wanting to play with herself a bit, Y/N turned around to face Jongho again as she sat back down with legs spread. Hand reaching in between her thighs, Y/N threw her head back as she rubbed 3 of her fingers against her throbbing clit, spilling out the hottest moans Jongho had ever heard. His eyes stayed trained on her core, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he saw how engorged and swollen her pussy lips were becoming thanks to her fast hand movements. As if the picture couldn't get any better-

"Jongho..." He tensed up when he heard her mutter his name. Opening her eyes, Y/N giggled at his shocked expression.

"Yes babyboy, you're not the only one who's getting turned on." She admitted, her rubbing becoming more intense and her sounds starting to get more high pitched. She could have made herself cum right then and there but she immediately halted her movements when she felt herself get too close to climaxing. She had already made up her mind that if she was going to cum, it was going to be on Jongho's cock, the very cock that she had been craving for quite some time. She vividly remembers the first time she saw him, sitting there in the crowd, eyes locked on her. Unlike the usual and common stares she'd get from other men that only displayed carnal lust and appetite, Jongho's eyes were different. They looked at her with pure adoration, staring at her as if she was an absolute goddess. He looked past her sexy body and dance and peered deep into the art and beauty of it, admiring each and every move she'd make onstage with fascination. Every time she'd perform and he was there, he always had an expression that seemed as if he had just discovered a priceless treasure or gem and Y/N loved the way he looked at her. He made her feel alive again, reminding her of why she loved performing, a love that had almost gone extinct after being viewed as nothing more than an object of entertainment and pleasure by many others. Seeing Jongho stare at her the way he did then, the way he was looking at her now, refueled that passion that had been buried deep inside her, being awakened once more by the man sitting in front of her.

Getting on all hands and knees, Y/N began crawling over to Jongho, the boy noticeably stiffening the closer she approached him. Sitting right in front of him, Y/N didn't hesitate to press her palms on his thick thighs, rubbing them in a gentle massage. She continued a pattern of stroking his thighs, thumbs occasionally pressing down hard. With a mischievous smirk, she hovered a hand above the tent in his pants before pressing it down to start palming him.

"Oh-Oh..." Jongho's breath hitched, thighs clenching at the feeling of her touching his intimate place, a picture he only got to live in his dreams up until that moment.

"You feel so big and thick even under these layers of clothes. Do you mind if I get a closer look?"

Noticing his hesitation and getting an inkling as to why it was, Y/N leaned forward, burying her face in between his legs as she placed her mouth right on top of his clothed bulge. Jongho outright moaned loudly at the contact, hips involuntarily bucking up each time she closed her mouth over his tent, only to open it back up before repeating the ministrations.

"Y/N please....." Jongho whined. Y/N giggled underneath him, the vibrations doing nothing but riling him up further. Giving in, Jongho began to unzip his pants, his hands sudden being pried off as Y/N took over and finished the task of undressing him. She pulled his pants and briefs down to pool around his ankles, face marveling at the sight of his erect cock right in front of her.

"Oh I was right. You are very thick and big."

Getting up, Y/N sat herself on top of Jongho's lap, the man underneath her gasping when she started rolling her hips against his, her wet folds coating his cock with her juices.

"Y/N are...are you sure this is ok?" He finally voiced out the biggest concern he had about all this.

Chuckling, Y/N wrapped her arms around Jongho's neck, leaning in close enough that her lips fanned over his own.

"Honey, it's perfectly fine. The only rules that apply inside these 4 walls are the ones that I set."

Taking hold of his hands, she placed them on her hips before continuing.

"And the number 1 rule is having you touch me as you please."

Jongho hesitantly ran his hands across her sides, still apprehensive about getting himself or her in trouble. Pouting slightly, Y/N began to grind her hips harder down onto his cock, gasping softly each time her clit felt stimulated by his shaft. That tiny action served to have him slide his hands down to cup her ass, squeezing harshly as he himself began bucking his hips upwards, matching the pace that she had set. He kept his eyes trained on the way her breasts bounced each time she moved fiercely on top of him. Releasing his grip on her ass, he placed them on top of her pillowy mounds, giving them tight squeezes that had Y/N shuddering when his thumbs brushed against her nipples, being extremely sensitive in them. After toying around with her sensitive nubs, making sure to flick them every so often, Jongho licked his lips before pressing his face against in between her tits. Opening his mouth, he latched his lips against one of her nipples, giving it harsh suckles, loud and sloppy noises being heard even over the music. Y/N closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his warm mouth on her boobs. Her fingers came up and tangled themselves on the back of his hair, palms unconsciously pressing him into her chest even further, back arching so that he would be able to take more of her soft flesh inside his mouth. Releasing the first nipple with a loud pop and a thin trail of saliva, Jongho knew it wouldn't be fair if her other nipple didn't get payed the same attention the other got. With a groan, his mouth once again enclosed over her nipple, practically devouring it into his warm and wet cavern.

Y/N's hip movements started to become more and more frantic. After having teased Jongho and herself so much before, she was beginning to feel much too hot and bothered, her pussy feeling empty and in desperate need to be filled with a fat and thick cock. Pulling Jongho's face off her chest, she suddenly got off his lap so she could move over towards the ottoman on the other side of the room. Getting on all fours, she presented her ass to Jongho once more, hand reaching in between to play with her reddened clit.

"Jongho please fuck me. Fuck this little hole of mine and use it as you want."

Not wanting to wait to see if it was a dream that he would wake up from or not, Jongho got up from his seat and began walking over to the exotic dancer. His clothes started to form a trail across the floor as he stripped out of every article of clothing he had on, the last garment dropped right as he came up behind her round and firm ass that was just begging to be slapped by one of his palms. Cupping the sides of her ass, Jongho rubbed the tip of his cock against her slickened lips, his precum mixing with hers, some of it even oozing down lightly on the floor. Any other time she would have appreciated how soft and gentle he was being, but right now that was the last thing she needed.

"Jongho don't tease me. Just drill that cock inside me and break me like one of those apples you break." She didn't even care that she accidentally made it known that she knew very well what he was capable of doing. Jongho on the other hand got a smug smile on his face after finding out that she had actually gone out of her way to do research on him.

Y/N had to press her hands against the top part of the couch to keep herself from holding forward after Jongho plunged his cock deep inside her. Not giving her dripping and warm walls time to prepare, Jongho began slamming his hips against her ass, his shaft being squeezed by her wet and clenching walls that made sure he wouldn't be going anywhere. Needy moans and cries of pleasure echoed in that room, most of them coming from the girl that was being impaled to the hilt by a thick cock repeatedly without mercy.

"Yes! Just like that!" She cried out, deep breaths spilling out as she pushed herself further back into Jongho's thrusts.

"You like being fucked like this?" He growled from behind, dropping one hand to slam hard against one of her cheeks that was rippling each time he pushed deep inside her core, the action making her walls contract painfully around Jongho's cock.

"I- yes! Fuck yes baby I do! I love being fucked as if I was nothing more than a glory hole." She shamelessly admitted.

Jongho once again brought his hand up and then dropped it down, giving her beautiful and supple ass a few repeated smacks, the loud cracking of his palm on her skin continuing to sound across the room until her flesh started to turn a pink-reddish hue. After getting his fill of making sure to slap her ass, Jongho cupped the sides of her soft cheeks, fingers digging harshly into her skin as he spread them out as much as they could, admiring the way his cock entered and re-entered her drenched hole.

"Fuck! You feel so good inside me baby, your going to make me cum."

Hearing those words made the male idol drive harder and more forceful thrusts into her body, using the power in his hips as his cock continued to stretch her tight hole. Y/N was losing her mind at how good the pleasure felt, she wouldn't have been suprised if her agape mouth was drooling saliva down her chin at the point. She focused on nothing else except relishing in how deep Jongho's cock was in her. She loved how rough he was being with her, and Jongho could also tell, her long drawn out screaming moans being a big clue that she was taking his hard thrusts very well. Too well. Swear began to mist both of their bodies, dripping down their foreheads and temples as his merciless pace continued. Y/N began to contract violently underneath him, her moans turning into full on wailing.

"Oh fuck! Jongho I'm gonna-"

She was caught off, lips only managing to spat out piercing whimpers of ecstasy as her juices seeped out and onto his length, warmly coating the entirety of his shaft. Y/N couldn't stop clenching around his cock, almost as if her body was purposefully trying to prolong her mind breaking orgasm. Feeling her spill all over him, Jongho's pace became more sloppy, less calculated, a clear indication that his own climax was not too far behind.

Knowing exactly where she wanted his cumshot, Y/N pulled away from Jongho's cock, quickly turning around and getting on her knees as her hand wrapped around his shaft and rapidly jerked him off, eyes looking up at him as she lowered her face even further so his tip would be right above her forehead.

"Oh shit!" Jongho spat out, head thrown back and eyes shut tightly, unable to hold back from cumming after realizing what Y/N had in store.

Within seconds Y/N felt his cum start to shoot out towards her face, tongue poking out to catch some of it. She loved how hot, thick and sticky it was. Her free hand came up to fondle his balls, proving to help in extending his high as much as possible as well making sure that more cum would be pumped out of him so that it could be splashed on Y/N's pretty face. The girl giggled as a second load shot out unexpectedly, drowning her face in cum as she swallowed what had been collected in her tongue. Jongho was panting almost feverishly when his high finally started to rescind, allowing him to calm his heartbeat that was pumping ferociously. Peering down, he let out a shocked exclaim as he saw the stripper's face drenched in his cum, a huge smile on her face that turned even brighter when she felt him get hard again in her hand. Making sure that his boner wouldn't go anywhere, Y/N leaned in and pressed a kiss to his tip, tongue poking out to dip into his slit.

"Your friend paid for 5 hours and we've only used up 2. What do you say we make his money worth while?"

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Taglist: @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @multidreams-and-desires @deja-vux @brie02 @couchpotatoaniki @a-soft-hornytiny @daniblogs164 @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @mingismoon @ateezbabysitters @rainteez02

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huenjin · 4 years

Text

attention.

pairing — bang chan x reader

word count — 2.8k words

ratings — 18+

genre — smut, includes thigh riding, groping, hand job, dry humping, dry sex.

note — i needed to post something for my baby's bday but i had none written so i had to post some real old writing and like i love you, channie.

You open the door to the room only to see Chan working hard on his laptop, typing away his time with his eyes fixated on the screen, moving the buttons the way he needed. You sigh and lean against the panel of the door in vain.

Chan is always caught up in his work. And no matter how many times you've asked him to leave his work at the studio and come home to you just as him, it is useless. You come home only to find Chan making music or sleeping because the day is exhaustive. It had been days since Chan had given you any attention. It had been months since your boyfriend had even taken you out on a date.

Beyond everything, you are sexually frustrated.

The purple vibrator that you had bought for occasions such as these helped you to an extent but none comes even close to the effect Chan's cock has on you. You had taken a bite of the sweet apple and it is way too late to go back now.

"Chan," you call out as you walk slowly towards him, taking small strides, praying tonight is going to be a lucky one. Your boyfriend hums in response. His attention is still fixated on his work and you are genuinely getting agitated with every minute that passes by.

"Channie," you whine and lean over his shoulder as you stand behind him. Chan merely smiles and continues his work, pressing the headphones closer to his ear as he taps on a few buttons before pressing the keys on the keyboard before him. You watch the screen for a minute before looking at him, staring at his side profile.

You propel yourself a bit further, letting your hot breath fan over his ears and the side of his face and neck. Chan ignores your presence so obviously and lets you be.

You kiss his neck. Chan stops for an instant, surprised by your sudden action, not expecting it, before continuing with his work. You are slowly getting irked over the fact that Chan is still not giving you enough attention.

You trail kisses up and down his neck before parting your lips slightly and sucking on his neck in an attempt to form a distinct hickey. A sigh escapes from Chan's mouth and that seems to have led him to press on keys only quicker, that is only after a surprised quick press on one of them — the shrill sound echoing off the walls.

You suck, letting slick noises emit from your mouth. You let the free hand roam around your body, trying to grab a feel. You are after all only wearing Chan's shirt with no undergarments underneath. He would not have observed that though. It has been long since Chan has observed you even.

The free hand of yours trails down to the hemline of his shirt before letting it travel underneath, as it touches and caresses every corner and crook of his body.

"Y/N," Chan finally utters. "Stop. I have work to do."

"And I've work to do," you assert. Tongue clicking before pressing it against your inner cheek. "So, let's just stick to what we were doing as you pleased," you snarl at your boyfriend. You stand up straight and begin unbuttoning Chan's shirt that you are wearing before the man himself, who has turned around to see your antics.

You slowly opened the button one after another, taking your own time, letting Chan die in agony internally as he lets out a small groan. He stomps slightly, rocking his leg. You raise your eyebrow and ask, "I thought you had work."

Chan stretches his arms out and catching hold of your hips, he pulls you onto his lap. The impact leads to the half-opened shirt to fall off one of your shoulders showing a lot of your left breast.

With your face ever so close to Chan, you can see the dark circles underneath his eyes. The poor man has been working himself to death. His eyes have lost their spark and you genuinely wish that Chan would let go once in a while and enjoy the present.

However, you can also see how beautiful he is - his rosy lips that are parted and his nose that is sharp. Chan is a beauty carved from the finest and you are glad to call him yours.

"Fuck," Chan swears under his breath. You smile. You lift your hand and stretching your index finger, you poke Chan's head, pushing it back.

"I lead today," you mumble, cupping Chan's face. "I lead and get what I want today because you've been a bad, bad boy these weeks."

Chan gulps, his eyes turning a shade darker. He stretches his hands back to shut his laptop. You lean forward and catch Chan midway for a kiss. You hold his face, guiding and directing the kiss, being forceful and trying to show the dominance you clearly lacked. Chan always led and it is taking you a long time to get used to what you had asked for.

"But, Y/N," Chan protests as you break off the kiss. "What did I do wrong?"

You get off his lap and Chan's eyes widens. You clearly catch sight of Chan's growing hard-on and smile to yourself. You fold your arms and in the process, push your breasts up.

"I want to ride you," you say and Chan smiles, "So be it."

"No," you cut him off. You had intended to be elaborate, even though you shied away. You just did not want to ride him (not that that wasn't a dynamic experience of its own). You wanted to ride his thigh. Every time you see Chan walk in those tight leather jeans with his thighs looking perfect, you could not have helped but wonder how it'd feel like riding it.

"Then?"

"You don't question me, love," you lean forwards, your breasts shaking due to the impact. "I do the questioning." You giggle slightly and Chan smiles, even though deep down, he finds you so hot that he could melt.

"I want to ride your thighs," you tell him in a tone lower than it is originally as you edge closer to him and bend over to face him directly.

Chan gulps. He knows deep down that as much as he longs to have the reins back with him, you trying your best to look dominating is sinful.

"Can I?" You ask, accidentally. Your eyes widen as you realise and you quickly look down. Chan smiles and blinks in response to let you have your moment. You seem to have been trying really hard, after all.

You slightly part Chan's legs, giving you space to accompany yours. Before sitting on them, you flip your hair to let it rest on one shoulder of yours and lean forward to remove Chan's white shirt.

You are pleased, nonetheless to say. Chan has an effect on you, undoubtedly. However, you are still standing in front of him, strong and determined to have your way. You had feared initially that you'd be already begging for him and his devious ways with you.

Chan stares at you, ensuring that he did not break contact with you at all. That you still had him in the way you wanted, ready to dominate. He knows you liked it and you do truly. You lift Chan's shirt up as he allows you to and throw it to a corner.

Fucking minx, Chan screams out loud in his head. He watches you closely. Chan has always loved to do that. Yes, he is guilty as charged for being so caught up in his work, but he realises his mistake. He is, after all, missing out on all this.

But if it were his lack of attention that led you to be a vamper, he wouldn't mind doing this all over again.

You take a deep breath as you look at Chan, gaze lingering up and down and finally letting your eyes land on his thighs. His thick thighs. Chan's thighs are one of the many reasons for your wet dreams. His thighs, that are so tight and firm, look like they are made of steel. They even enhance his beautiful backside besides his crotch that they almost steal all the attention from his already handsome face.

So, you are not exactly surprised this morning when you wake up, drenched in your sweat, panties damp all because you dreamt of riding Chan's thighs. That dream edges you to the ultimate levels of endurance of your sexual frustration.

"Are you rethinking everything?" Chan asks out of concern. You face Chan, head lifting slightly. You are intimidated by your own fantasies as much as you want to try it out. Chan understands this and you realise that that is one of the million reasons why you love him.

"Yes," you mumble, embarrassed. You end up just making a fool out of yourself and nothing more. You can feel the ground below you slipping as you drown in your own embarrassment until —

"That was hot," Chan's voice resonates in tones lower and he pulls you onto his thigh so suddenly that you let out a squeal subsequently followed by your eyes widening at what happened.

"Chan," you let out a sigh. Your hands extend to grip on Chan's shoulder for some sort of balance while his huge hands hold your hips in position.

"Would you let me take control?" Chan asks, leaning forward. His breath warms your neck and a sharp rush of tingles run down your spine, making you slicker than you already were. Chan is kind enough to ask you to hand over the reins; however, he also looked like he would take them even if you didn't give it to him.

You nod and that is a signal enough for Chan. Holding your hip down onto his thighs more precisely, he pulls you forward towards him. You gasp at the friction and your head drops forward, resting momentarily on Chan's neck. You can feel him growing against your thigh as it is pressed. Your breath is already getting irregular.

"Grind on my thighs, baby," Chan whispers into your ear and catches hold of your earlobe between his teeth.

On that cue, you press your core, dripping, further into his thighs and start grinding on him slowly.

"Chan, oh," your words ever so slowly turning into moans, each of a higher frequency than the previous one, "Oh my God."

Your voice is trembling. You can feel the sensation in your centre, spreading and vibrating through your whole body. You hold onto Chan's shoulder tighter than you already are. Your brain is slowly releasing oxytocin and endorphins. Bliss is all you feel. And Chan's thick thigh.

Chan lets out a deep grunt as he watches the sight before him. You are moving back and forth on his thighs and you look to have found heaven momentarily. Your face is washed with a look of pleasure as you moan his name over and over and over again as if he is the reason why you are breathing at this moment. Your eyes are shut tight and you rub yourself on his thighs. Chan can arguably say for sure that this is one of his favourite looks on your face.

Your right hand drops from his shoulder and you allow it to land on his covered girth. He was thick everywhere and you love it. You open your eyes, looking at Chan and letting him see how lost you are in seventh heaven. Chan helps you move quicker on his thigh subsequently as he pulls you back and forth. You grip on his covered shaft, giving it a few pumps as much as the covered denim permitted you to.

The air is soon filled with the sounds of your loud moans and his deep grunts. Your body is firmly grinding on his thighs. Your hand is pumping Chan and moving around his covered shaft rhythmically. Chan's hands, that are holding you down onto his thighs, are flexed which helps him guide you to grind on himself quicker. The friction from moving to and fro his tense thighs, that he flexed occasionally to emit a louder moan from you, sends waves of pleasure slowly through your clit.

"C-Chan," you screamed, not caring for anyone hearing you being a moaning mess, "I'm close. I'm so f-fucking close."

Chan's eyebrows quirk up. He knows that you are close. He has always known when you are close. Your lips quiver, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you tremble. Chan loves seeing you like this - like the moaning mess you are for him, unrestrained and loud.

He moves one of his hands. You let out a sigh at the loss of contact and you grip on his cock a little harder, rubbing it quicker. He slips one of his thumbs between your bodies to find your button.

"Aha," Chan smiles to himself on finding it and starts pressing on it, letting his thumb move in small circles, considering the limited space he had.

"Chan— fuck!" You moan and your head rolls backwards in sheer pleasure. "Oh my." You grip harder on his shoulders to balance yourself, your one hand still wrapped warmly around his manhood.

"Oh my fuck," you scream out loud, followed by the repeated chanting of his name when your climax hit you. You feel like your core is exploding and your eyes screw shut as you keep riding Chan's thigh sloppily.

"That's it, baby," Chan encourages you, whispering to you to continue. He grunts as he bucks into your hand that was wrapped around his cock. His one hand that is on your clit, now wraps around your hand, guiding you and helping you to squeeze him harder to reach his own high. Your head tilts slightly as you watch Chan's face slowly morph into one of extreme pleasure. He looks sinful, not that he normally doesn't.

You let out a whimper as his thighs move up along with his hips, providing more friction to your sensitive core. Your hand moves up and down his shaft, adjusting on how Chan's facial expressions changed. With a few hard thrusts from Chan himself into your hands, he finally explodes in his denim pants, the stain that is brought thanks to his precum, making its way bigger on the front and he emits a loud grunt. You watched in admiration how Chan thrusts a bit more into your hands.

Your bodies slowly halt in their movement. Your high subsides along with Chan's as your breath returns to normalcy. Chan leans forward to peck you on your lips lovingly, which is soon followed by a deep longing kiss. You pull away to face Chan who has leaned sideways to pick up the shirt of his that you had been wearing. He drapes it over you, pulling the open seams closer and lovingly caresses your face, with an expression of gratitude.

"That was perfect," he said, rubbing small circles with his thumbs on your skin at your hip. He looks at you with droopy eyes and a careened body.

"It felt amazing." You feel comfortable now, your head resting on his shoulder. Chan does not make your sexual fantasies seem weird. He never did and you feel blessed.

"I'm sorry," Chan cups your face and presses his forehead to yours. "I'm sorry for being so caught up with work that I haven't been paying much attention to you."

Chan looks sincerely into your eyes and you feel your heart warm up. This man loves you with no bounds and you love him for everything so much.

"It's alright," you tell him as you pull away and kiss his forehead. Chan and you stay like that for a while in each other's overwhelming presence. "I love you, Chan."

"So much more, Y/N," he hugs you warmly. Pulling you away, minutes later and holding you at an arm's length, Chan smiles stupidly at you with his eyes glistening.

"If ignoring you means this, I'm ready for this all over again," he sheepishly agrees and you laugh, flicking his forehead as you jokingly gasp. The room resonates your laughter accompanied by Chan's soon after — just two blessed souls with hearts next to each other.

"Asshole, why do I even adore you?"

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doyouevenshipbr0 · 3 years

Text

gruvia drabble

author’s note: ok. hi. here we are again. i go on a 1948392 year hiatus and then become inspired to write something from the most RANDOM thing. but this was too good to pass up. so essentially i saw a headcannon by @incorrect-ft-ez-quotes and then @bbygirljuvi added onto it:) look at my most recent reblog for reference if u want hehehe. yeah ok maybe i did add some bs healing abilities to juvia’s powers... sue me! ok here we gooooo i hope u cuties enjoy!!!

“Popsicle,” Natsu sighed. “What the hell are you doin’ back here?” He held his door in one hand as he stared at a recently familiar face.

“What, a guy can’t stop by and visit his best friend?” Gray nervously chuckled.

Happy and Natsu weren’t buying it, exchanging suspicious looks as Gray impatiently stood at the door frame.

“Best friend?” Natsu rose an eyebrow.

“And for the 4th day in a row?” Happy jabbed, hovering beside Natsu’s head

“Would ya’ just let me in?” Gray spat out, clearly looking jittery.

“Fine.” Natsu groaned, stepping aside so Gray could step in.

“But we’re gonna’ start charging rent!” Happy exclaimed.

“Whatever, I don’t care, just as long as I can hang out here for a little while.” Gray hustled in, plopping himself onto Natsu’s worn down couch.

“Ok, you can stay here on one condition, tell me what it is you’re freaking out about. And gimme’ the real reason you’ve been comin’ here.” Natsu folded his arms.

“Aye!” Happy mimicked Natsu, crossing his little paws.

Gray let out a groan, bowing his head between his legs before whipping his head back up. “It’s Juvia, ok!?”

“Juvia?” Happy asked.

“But, you haven’t tried avoiding her in forever. You guys have been all buddy-buddy lately.” Natsu was trying to piece this all together in his head.

Gray blushed, averting his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“So what’s the deal?” Natsu was doing his best to get straight to the point, as nuance was not his strong suit.

“W-well... we... kind of... sort of...” Gray scratched at the back of his head, searching for the gall to say it. “We got drunk the other night at the guild, and then I went to walk her home since she was pretty wasted, and...one thing lead to another and... we almost kissed.”

Natsu was as confused as ever. “So?”

“So?!”

“Well, don’t ya’ like her?”

“W-well-!” Gray stammered, and gave out a defeated sigh, bowing his head again. “Yeah.” He mumbled to the point that Natsu or Happy could barely hear him.

“So then why don’t you wanna’ smooch her?” Happy was almost as dense as Natsu.

“Gah! You guys don’t get it!” Gray sprung up. “Forget it. I’m gonna’ find a new hiding spot. Preferably, one that asks less questions.”

Just as Gray made his way to Natsu’s front door, there was a sudden knock. Gray froze in his tracks as a chill went up his spine. He had a knack for this sort of thing, knowing when Juvia’s around, and that chill only ever meant one thing.

“Shit.”

Gray needed an escape route, but his head wasn’t on straight. He frantically scoured the little house, looking from wall to wall, but there was only one door, and Gray was just feet away from it.

“Natsu, whatever you do, don’t-“

“Be there in a sec’!” Natsu shouted at the door.

“You idiot!” Gray whisper yelled.

Natsu opened the door to none other than Juvia. She was known for her expressive nature. The look on her face could tell you anything you want to know, without her having to say a word.

“Hi, Natsu-san.” Juvia said both frantically and nervously. “Juvia was just wondering if Gray-sama was here.” She held her hands together promptly, hoping that he would be there.

“Actually Gray-“ Natsu was cut off at the sound of shattering glass. He instinctively spun around to a disastrous scene, displaying a broken window, shards of glass everywhere, and no Gray to be found. “Just left.” Natsu finished the thought differently than he originally intended.

Juvia heard the shattering too, and she had her answer. Her Gray-dar never failed her. Using her Gray-dar she quickly scurried to the back of the house, crossing her fingers that Gray hadn’t gotten away yet. The first thing she heard was a hiss of pain, and as she turned the corner, there sat her Gray in the ground, holding his bloody knee.

“Son of a bitch!” Gray yelled in pain, applying more pressure to his cut knee. Sure, he was used to getting beaten to a pulp in a fight, but he wasn’t exactly expecting a busted up knee right about now.

“Gray-sama!” Juvia’s eyes widened at the blood, and she hurried to his side.

Gray finally realized her presence. He stopped writhing in pain for a moment, and tried to appear as casual as usual. “Oh...” He forced a laugh. “Hey Juvia. what are you doin’ here?”

“Juvia should be asking you the same thing.” She knelt by Gray’s side. “But first, let Juvia help.”

“I’m fine.”

“Let Juvia see it, Gray-sama.”

He sighed, giving in and releasing his hold. Juvia quickly took her hands and placed them on Gray’s knee. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and suddenly her hands became water, but it wasn’t normal water. It was soothing, and it was making the stinging in Gray’s knee go away.

“Juvia has been working on some healing techniques. It’s nothing like Wendy, but I can heal some minor, surface-level things.” She explained, using her water hands to massage the area.

“Now that Juvia has finally caught you, why have you been avoiding me?” She finally looked at Gray who blushed at the sudden eye contact.

“I haven’t.” Gray tried to sound as natural as possible.

All Juvia had to do was give him a look that practically screamed “oh, please.” before he cracked. “Ok, fine. I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Juvia knows!” She exclaimed.

“I just don’t want things to be awkward between us!” He explained.

“But you don’t think avoiding me for days would make it awkward?” Juvia finally finished his knee and reverted her hands back to normal.

Gray groaned. “You’re right.” He ran his hand through his hair, trying to hide his face.

“Is this about... the other night?” Juvia finally asked.

“Do ya’ really have to even ask?” Gray avoided eye contact.

“But Juvia thought the night went well! I had a lot of fun!”

“So did I! Until...” He cut himself off.

“Until we almost kissed?” Juvia finished it for him.

“Yeah.”

“I see.” Juvia paused. “Are Juvia’s lips chapped?”

“Huh?” He finally peaked up at her.

“Or did Juvia have something in her teeth maybe?” She was going into panic mode.

“No that’s not-“

Juvia cut him off with as gasp, and her hands slapped against her mouth. “Or does Juvia’s breath stink?! Is that it?!”

“Would you knock it off!” Gray finally stopped her. “It doesn’t have to do with any of that stuff.

“Oh.” Juvia sunk. “So Gray-sama just does not want to kiss Juvia then.”

“No!” He instantly cut off that thought, even though he was embarrassed by how eager he sounded. “Not that either.” He grumbled.

“Then..?”

“We were drunk. Yes, we were having fun and all, but, I dunno’.” Gray grumbled, looking for the right words. “We haven’t had our first kiss yet. So when we do, I want it to be... kinda’... special. I guess. In a way.” Gray finished with some filler words to try and take the heat away from his face, but it was no use.

“S-s-special?! Gray-sama wants our kiss to be special?!” Juvia lit up, almost freezing in time waiting for someone to pinch her, because she figured this had to be a dream. However, she still was a bit lost, so she put a pause on her momentary fantasy. “Wait, so then why have you been avoiding me?”

“Because I didn’t know how to tell you all that. I was trying to buy some time until I could figure out what to say.” Gray released a deep exhale. “But I guess I’ve said it all now.”

“You sure have.” Juvia said giddily right before she launched herself at Gray, tightly clutching Gray’s shoulders in her arms as her cheek was pressed up firmly against his.

“Gah!” Gray shouted in surprise, trying to keep his balance as Juvia leeched onto him. They were still sitting, but she almost knocked him flat on his back.

“But you know what, Gray-sama?” Juvia broke her clutch, making sure she was looking right at Gray.

“What?” He looked down at her curiously.

“Juvia thinks every moment with Gray-sama is special. So to Juvia, any time is perfect for a first kiss.” She smiled so sweetly is made Gray’s heart just about burst.

“Yeah?” Gray felt the corner of his mouth tug up.

“Yep.” She nodded in assurance.

“If you say so.”

And without a second thought, Gray closed the gap between them, planting a sweet and soft kiss on Juvia’s lips. As they parted, they leaned in and pressed their foreheads against each other, both wearing matching grins.

“That looked pretty special from in here!” Happy interjected from inside the house, followed by Natsu’s laughter.

Gray and Juvia jumped, startled by the sudden noise. “Happy, shut it!” Gray turned his head, looking through what used to be a window, and seeing Natsu and Happy standing in their living room.

“Maybe we wouldn’t be able to hear you two slobbering on each other if there was a window here!” Natsu yelled, referring to the gaping hole in the middle of his wall.

“We were not slobbering, you moron!” Gray blushed furiously, finally standing up and facing Natsu.

“That’s what it looked like to me!” Natsu teased back, wearing a devious smile.

“Aye!” Happy seconded.

“Mind your business, flame-for-brains!”

“Next time you need to hide out for a week, you ain’t comin’ here!” Natsu shouted.

“Fine by me.” Gray scoffed.

He then looked back at Juvia as she appeared a little on edge, wondering if she was going to have to break up a fight between Gray and Natsu.

He grinned once again, at the girl he couldn’t wait to spend more special time with, making more memories, and growing even closer

He reached for Juvia’s hand and squeezed it. “I was gettin’ tired of running away anyway.”

#gruvia #doyouevenshipbr0 #fairy tail #gruvia fanfic #gruvia fanfcition #gruvia drabble #fairy tail 100 yq #ft 100yq #anime #manga #gray x juvia #juvia x gray #juvia lockser

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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

Use All of Me (P.15 -- final)

Title: Use All Of Me (Part Fifteen, Final) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 2,591 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death Author’s Note: I had a lot of extra things I wanted to add in (not mentioning the two other ways I considered taking the fic) but they were fleeting and not conducive to the plot. Just day to day things and I didn’t want to drag it out more than it needed to be. I am satisfied with this and I hope you guys are too.

Part Fourteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Steve shook his head, scrolling through his phone across the table from you. His dinner was barely touched he was so engrossed in what he was reading. He must have felt you staring because he looked up, making eye contact with you.

You swallowed and asked now that you had his attention, “What is making you so upset?”

Reluctantly, Steve told you, “Gossip columns. About us. About you.”

“Well, I don’t know about that because I don’t have my phone… or internet access at that.” Steve’s face was stoic at your remark and you shrugged, unable to mask your scorn “You’re the one who put my face out there. Can’t blame people for being concerned about one of their stars.”

“You forced my hand,” Steve told you in a low voice. “Did you not?”

You took another bite of your food, knowing you were toeing a line.

Steve put his phone down, scooting his chair closer to yours, invading your space. “Did you not?” he repeated with more force.

“I did,” you whispered.

His fingers ghosted along the side of your face. “Like I told you… you don’t think about the repercussions of your actions. You were acting unstable. Nothing like yourself. I had to do it to bring you back. I had to do it to keep you safe.”

He was so insistent in his chivalry about whisking you back home, keeping you barred inside. You blocked out what he was saying about you, like he was blaming you for reacting perfectly normally to being kept in a cage. You wanted to move onto something else.

“Did you pay that person… who turned me in?”

“Yes.”

“Are Yua and Natalie back at their jobs?”

“Yes.”

You proposed honestly, “How can I be sure? That you’re telling me the truth? When I cannot even check on them myself?”

“You don’t trust me?” Steve’s eyes were hard, challenging you.

What a loaded question.

“I don’t see any reason why you would lie to me about it,” you lied yourself in response.

Steve looked tickled by your response, but you also sensed displeasure in his tone. “Y/N… I have enough money and power to ruin them if I wanted to. And I wouldn’t keep it a secret from you because there would be a damn good reason I would have done so. And I would want you to know what lesson you were supposed to learn. So, darling, trust me when I tell you that they are okay. I listened to what you requested. I can be reasonable when you behave.” He leaned back, eyes searching your face. He let out a small sigh seeing the meek expression on your face, “Over time you’ll get your phone back... your friends coming around to visit again.”

He was waiting expectantly for you to answer, to say anything.

“I understand.”

Steve’s hand was warm, grasping yours. “You did good, doll face…” he praised gently. “You came back to me. You brought the babies back. I am desperate to see you mothering our children… swelling with more of them.” He reached over, picking up an envelope on top of the stack of papers near him. He held it up to you and said, “And I intend to make good on my word about making it official.”

Steve handed it to you and you took it from him gingerly. Unfolding the papers inside, you looked down at the paper, seeing it was a marriage application.

Confused, you asked, “You… you don’t even want to have a ceremony?”

“Do you want a ceremony?” Steve asked seriously.

“Yes,” you breathed. If you were going to get married, you wanted to at least celebrate it. Have something to look forward to if you were going to be legally bound to him.

“Hmm.” Steve looked contemplative. “I didn’t think you would be interested in that.” He paused, chewing on the thought. He blew a small raspberry, reaching for his phone. “Well, maybe it is a good thing I did float the idea.” He began to hand the phone to you but paused, cocking his head slightly. “Now… I’m gonna let you look at this because Wanda was able to find some beautiful maternity gowns. Tell me what you think of them. Don’t search anything else. Understand?” You nodded and he handed you his phone and you stared down at it, shocked to see wedding gowns.

Being pregnant was not something you had considered for the ceremony. Or particularly wanted for your wedding day photos.

“Do we have to move so quickly?”

“Yes,” Steve responded curtly.

“Why?”

“Because I want it to all be settled before the babies get here.”

The only reason he would want that… he had to have an angle. There must be something that he wanted.

“Can I—”

“Small ceremony, Y/N,” Steve cut you off, as if he knew exactly what you were going to ask. And you could not fathom how he could just read you like a book. It unnerved you. He was observant and it was detrimental to you. “I already have the list and the venue was set.”

“The v-venue?”

He threw you a smirk, “I was banking on you wanting a ceremony.”

So that is what Tony had been talking about.

<><><>

Your hands ran over the gown. The beaded sheer top above your bustline glittered in the light. You were a little chilly with your bare arms, but you barely noticed above your nerves. Surprisingly, you had been left alone in the room serving as the bridal suite. Not that you could make a run for it anyway in this dress and with your stomach. You snorted at the thought of you running down the street; it did calm you down a little.

Yet, you still wished your friends had been able to attend but it was ‘family’ only as Steve had said. And that family meant the team.

The door opened, drawing your attention.

Wanda was standing there, and she stopped, seeing you done up.

“You look lovely,” she said gently, a sincere smile on her face.

You returned her smile, giving a quick nod. You found yourself more often than not, cradling your stomach, and here you were again. You grimaced when one of the twins gave a particularly hard kick and Wanda noticed.

She was at your side immediately, “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you breathed, nodding. “Would be terrible to have the babies at 28 weeks… far too early.”

“Not uncommon though.” Wanda still sounded unsure.

You waved her off. “I’m fine. Really. They’re just kicking and moving around.”

Wanda relaxed a little and said, “Alright, if you’re sure. Well, they’re ready. Are you?”

Shakily, you told her, “Yes. Yes, of course.”

The room was bright, draped in shades of sky blues. White petals were scattered along the aisle down to where Steve was standing. You breath caught at the sight of him, causing you to hesitate in your stride. Steve looked handsome, so very handsome. Somehow you made it to the end of the aisle, coming to stand in front of him. You hardly could contain the smile that came to you, unable to block out the happiness you felt coming off of him in waves. He looked so sure, so satisfied as he took your hand in his.

His words were sweet, loving. You tried to breathe easy as he slipped the ring on your finger, noticing the hungry look on his eyes. When you were told to kiss, Steve guided you, his lips dominating yours.

Signing away on the marriage certificate, you noticed his lips twitch watching you. He was elated. He was getting exactly what he wanted… you. Forever.

The night would have gone smoothly if you had not felt another hard kick from the babies. It felt different. It was not a normal kick.

Your fork clattered to your plate over your dinner at the bridal table. Your hand came to your stomach, your face twinged in pain.

Steve’s laugh faltered, his attention drawn from Bucky next to him.

“Y/N?” he asked, his tone suddenly serious. Bucky was leaning forward, sharing Steve’s look of concern.

Trying to play it off, you nodded with difficulty. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Another kick hit and you grimaced, a sharp gasp leaving your mouth. “Okay, maybe I’m not.”

Steve was standing and staring down at you in worry. The rest of the team had noticed and were hanging in suspension as they realized there was something wrong.

“I’ll get the car,” Steve declared. “Tony, Bucky, can you help her outside? I’m getting the car.”

Without waiting for them to answer, Steve was already halfway to the door, his stride quick.

Tony and Bucky were there, hands holding you as they helped you stand. You whimpered, your belly tight, soreness swirling in your hips and lower back. You had had period cramps before but this was something else entirely.

You felt wet and looked down at your legs. Your dress was soaked in a stream and you let out a strangled noise. Your water was broken and panic began to set in.

“Oh, boy, yeah,” Tony said sounding like he was trying to keep himself calm since he noticed it as well as him and Bucky helped you walk towards the door.

“I’m not ready,” you begged, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes. “I’m not ready!”

“I don’t think you’ve got much of a say in the matter,” Tony told you, trying to make a joke. He gave a small laugh, but you could tell he was nervous. You cried out and he quickly held to you as your knees threatened to buckle underneath you. “Oh, shit. Okay. Keep steady, sweetheart.”

“I can’t!” you snapped at him.

Tony closed his mouth.

Bucky grunted as your legs quivered and you leaned into him as you reached the door. They helped you down the stairs as carefully as they could as you heard tires squeal to a stop at the curb. Steve had been speeding from the parking garage.

Steve got halfway out of the car, but Bucky said, “We got it. Don’t worry.”

They helped you get into the front seat of the car and you gripped the sides of the chair, closing your eyes as another contraction rumbled through you. You heard Bucky get into the backseat of the car and slam the door closed.

Steve took off quickly, promising you he would get you to the hospital as quickly as possible. He was doing well hiding his anxiousness, channeling it into assuring you and telling you it was going to be okay.

<><><>

“It was the goddamn stress!” Steve grated furiously. “She should have stayed home! She shouldn’t have run off! Why was she so stupid?”

He was pacing angrily in one of the waiting rooms down the hallway. Y/N had given birth to both of the babies, far prematurely. They had both been whisked away to the NICU without Y/N and Steve both given much time to see them, let alone hold them. They were reassured they would be able to visit once the babies were set up safely. It did not sit well with Steve. Y/N was exhausted and was having trouble staying awake, so he had left the room when he was sure she was alright. She needed rest.

But now that he was out of the height of the situation, anger began swirling at the risk she had been put at along with the babies.

The team had shown up, still dressed in their wedding attire.

No one argued with Steve. He might very well have a valid point about it and saying anything to the contrary was not going to calm him down.

Steve ground his teeth, hands coming to his hips in frustration.

“They said the babies are alright though?” Natasha finally spoke.

Steve looked over at her and shrugged, “I think. I don’t know. They said they needed to be put on oxygen. That doesn’t sound good to me.”

“It’s probably precautionary, Steve,” Pepper offered gently.

Finding an empty chair, Steve sat down in it heavily, resting his elbows on his thighs. His eyes swept around the room, taking everyone in. He could see the unquiet in their expressions, their worry for him. He was supposed to be the one keeping everyone levelheaded; that was his job. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for just a moment. He just needed a moment to compose himself and be strong for everyone else.

When he opened them again, he said, “It better be. It’s gotta be.”

<><><>

Steve was there when your eyes fluttered open. It took a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the light in the room, even though it was dimmed. You focused in on the sheets and your gown. And then you felt the remnants of pain in your lower half, even though it was dull now.

It all hit you at once and you tried to sit up too quickly. You gasped in pain and Steve was halfway out of his chair.

“You’re fine,” he said in a rush, his hands coming to your arms. His eyes were swimming with worry. “Don’t get up, Y/N. You need to rest.”

Breathing erratically, you looked at him in alarm. “T-the babies?”

“They’re in the NICU,” Steve assured you quickly. “One is breathing on her own, the other is on tubes. But they think that he will be able to breath on his own soon.”

You stared at him and demanded, “You’ve seen them?”

“Yes. You did too. Briefly.”

That came back to you too. You had seen them. You had been awake for everything. But the exhaustion had taken over.

“But… you saw them? Without me?” you asked weakly.

“Yeah,” Steve admitted, slowly sitting back down in his chair. “I haven’t held them, but I’ve seen them. Through the window.” His hands rubbed your arms affectionately. “Y/N, doll face, really. You need to lie back. You lost a lot of blood.” That’s when you noticed the IV and everything attached to you. “They treated you and replaced but you’re still going to be weak.”

You did as he asked, lying back on the plethora of pillows behind you. He physically relaxed at you reclined, but he was still leaning towards you, ever watchful.

His tone was sympathetic, “I don’t like you sick. I don’t like worrying about you. I’m supposed to protect you.” His thumb traced across your lips, concern swimming in his eyes now. “I hope though you’ll take something from this… that you’ll think twice about being reckless. I don’t want our future children being put through this, Y/N. I don’t want you being put through this. I want you to be secure, relaxed… safe under my watch.”

Steve’s other hand came to rest on your stomach and you felt a sense of foreboding flooding in. His closed mouth smile conveyed confidence, his hand gently caressing. “Despite all of that stress though… you pulled through. You are special, Y/N. I can’t wait to watch you swell again.” He was sincere, gaze intense, and his fingers holding you close. “You are the most important thing to me. I’ll make sure next time goes more smoothly for you. I’ll be there every step of the way next time.”

He leaned in close now, his lips brushing against your ear, “You’re all in my custody now. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

~~~

Tags: @imsonick , @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam, @ironlady1993, @taintedgenre, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @roxyfan14-blog @mrsnegan25 @coconutqueen21

#steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #marvel fic #dark marvel fic #dark marvel #my shit

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wondernimbus · 4 years

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stressful times — fred weasley

pairing: fred weasley x female!reader

request #1: Can I request soft Fred Weasley comforting his girlfriend when she’s not feeling well/on her period and falling behind in classes/ homework? Pretty please 🥺

request #2: Can you write a Fred x reader where the reader is on her period while at Hogwarts during a time when a lot of tests are happening and she needs to be studying but isn’t and Fred notices cause usually she’s like Hermione and always does homework/studies and he figures out why she isn’t and helps her feel better?

a/n: THIS IS WAY OVERDUE IM SORRY but i decided to combine these 2 reqs bc they were pretty similar !!

[Y/N] is stressed.

School has never been a piece of cake for anyone—not even for Hermione Granger, who is one of the brightest people at Hogwarts, and certainly not for her, one of the Gryffindor Quidditch team's Chasers, and on top of that, a prefect currently studying for her N.E.W.Ts.

Wood expects her to practice out by the Quidditch pitch every free period in preparation for the upcoming match against Hufflepuff. This goes for every member of the team—even the ones who, like [Y/N], are studying for the so-called "big exams". And despite [Y/N] wanting to do well in her tests, she also doesn't want to lose her position in the Quidditch team—so she goes to the practice sessions, anyway, even if it's at the cost of her sleep.

That—coupled with her prefect duties and schoolwork—is wearing her out. So far she has managed to miraculously plow through, but when that time of the month comes and she can barely even bring herself to get out of bed, [Y/N] begins to wonder whether giving up would be a better option.

She could do it. Drop everything and lay in bed all day for the next week or so with a bag of chocolates at her side and pillows cushioning her entire body.

She could—technically, anything in the world is possible—but she shouldn’t, because she has obligations. Prefect tasks; patrolling the corridors and making sure no first-years go astray in the Forbidden Forest (it already happened once—she's not going to let it happen again), N.E.W.T. revisions, homework, Quidditch practice, homework, and then even more homework—

The very moment she wakes up and feels the pain in her lower abdomen, she knows she is done for. She only barely drags herself out of bed and trudges to her classes the entire day feeling like pure and utter dung. Her entire body is sore and her entire mood cranky, but that hardly matters because she has homework to do. And classes to go to. And Quidditch practice and patrolling and studying and Merlin-knows-what-else.

The sourness of her mood doesn't go amiss by any of her friends, and certainly not by her boyfriend, Fred Weasley, who automatically just knows when something is out of the ordinary with her. And while her friends decide to leave her alone after noting her less than pleasant mood, Fred does quite the opposite.

Which is, of course, no different from what he does everyday: stick by her side like glue. And while they'd been best friends for a while, it's only been a few months since Fred finally sucked up the courage to ask her out. So naturally Fred has very little experience with, ah, women’s dilemmas.

To put it simply, he doesn't know how to deal with a girl on her bloody (no pun intended) period. For the love of Merlin, he can't even tell.

So he's a little surprised and his feelings are a teeny bit hurt when he nudges her in the middle of Charms class and whispers, "Was that an earthquake? Or did you just rock my world?" only for her to shake her head without even as much as looking at him.

And so Fred's thought process goes like this: he's done something terribly wrong. He doesn't know what, but he must have, and now he has to make up for it—whatever it is.

First, though, he has to figure out what.

—

It's midnight. [Y/N] doesn't know how on earth she managed to get through the entire day without passing out, but she did and now here she is in the nearly empty common room, sitting on the carpet in front of the fireplace with several sheets of parchment and open textbooks splayed out before her.

Jotting down History of Magic notes, her face is scrunched up in the utmost concentration. Fred watches her from where he's sitting on the couch, pouting a little.

"Don't you think you should be resting by now?" tries Fred, the concern in his voice audible as his gaze darts from her to her homework.

She doesn't respond. Fred sighs and gets up off the couch to sit down next to her on the ground. But even then, she doesn't look up from her homework, so Fred takes matters into his own hands and reaches out with his hand to gently cup her cheek, trying to tilt her head towards him.

"Not now, Fred.." she mutters, leaning away from him a little to keep writing. His hand hovers in mid-air, fingers now just barely brushing her face as she's moved away. "I have to.. finish this.."

Her tongue is poking out in concentration as she almost feverishly moves her quill over paper. Fred tries not to feel too dejected and lets her be, waiting until she's broken out of her trance enough to grab her attention again. In the meantime, he props his elbows on his knees, the pout on his lips very much evident as he watches her work. He still doesn't know why she's been acting so distant, and no matter how much he tries to mull things over in his brain, he still doesn't know why exactly she's angry at him. Or if she even is angry.

Was his pick-up line really that bad? Could it maybe be because he'd kept trying to play with her hair in potions class the other day? Or is it because of what he did last week, when he’d talked McGonagall’s ear off about how wonderful a girlfriend he had? Maybe Fred should've been a bit more considerate—[Y/N] has always been a teacher's pet, after all, and he knows that the teachers themselves were surprised when they found out that she was dating him, one-half of the devious Weasley twins who had six O.W.L.s combined..

[Y/N]'s hand stills, and for a moment Fred thinks she's finally finished her homework, but her shoulders have bowed a little and her eyes have closed. The effect this image has on Fred is instantaneous: the pout on his lips is replaced quickly by a fond smile as he lets out a quick breath of slightly dubious laughter and moves to gently tap her on the shoulder.

Slowly, slowly, her eyes blink open.

Another tiny laugh. "You fell asleep for a second there, love," says Fred softly, hand moving to touch her hair, and he's so bloody endeared by her it hurts. Voice a mere mumble like he’s afraid of speaking too loud, he says, "Reckon we should turn in for the night, yeah? You and me both."

There's silence as she exhales, leaning into his touch almost unconsciously as her eyes close and her shoulders slump. "I'm really tired," she tells him quietly, nose wrinkling a little as her mouth stretches open in a yawn. (Good grief, Fred's heart aches.) He scoots forward a little into her, gathering her into his lap where she almost automatically curls up, head on his shoulder and her lips just barely grazing the side of his neck.

Fred can't even remember what he'd been agonizing over just moments before. All his fluttering heart cares about at the moment is his sleepy girlfriend, who's shifting a little in his lap to get herself more comfortable, mumbling something inaudible in her half-asleep state. He has to physically suppress himself from throwing his head back and laughing out loud, because something about the situation he's in is making him feel oddly euphoric. He only has to think about if for a few moments before he realizes why: it's because of how adorable she's being. And Fred’s heart might be melting in his chest—should he be concerned?

"I'm gonna carry you up to your dorm, okay?" says Fred, tone just loud enough to make himself heard but quiet and soft enough so as to not jar her awake. He feels her nod a little against his shoulder. Carefully, he gets to his feet, one arm under her legs and the other supporting her back the way a groom would carry his bride. (The thought crosses Fred's head very briefly and just like that he's smiling goofily to himself.)

And the moment is romantic and intimate in a quiet, calming way, until Fred makes the big mistake of murmuring, "I'll fix up your homework and bring it to you so you can work on it tomorrow" and [Y/N] quite literally freezes in his arms. Her entire body goes rigid.

"Homework. Oh, crap." Fully awake now, she lifts her head off of his shoulder, looks back at her pile of homework still on the ground, and then, her panicked eyes meeting his, she says, "Oh, no. No. I can't—I've got to get it done now, Fred."

An incredulous sound tumbles past his lips. "I could've sworn you were asleep two seconds ago.”

She sighs, squeezing her eyes shut for a few seconds before peeling them open again. Fred notes that the bags under them look even more pronounced up close; something that has him frowning at her. “Put me down, please? I really have to get that essay done."

He huffs, shakes his head, and starts walking towards the staircase leading to the girls' dormitory. "What—" [Y/N] yelps, looking up at him with an expression that suggests he’s admitted to strangling a rabbit. "Fred, I said put me down—"

"And let you work yourself to death? No can do, love." Fred looks down at her, lips pressed together in a sorry smile as he shakes his head. He lifts his gaze back away from her as he begins climbing up the steps, trying not to jostle [Y/N] too much in his arms. His tone sing-song, he says, “You need to rest. The essay can wait."

[Y/N] opens her mouth to predictably retaliate, but Fred stops halfway up the staircase and presses a kiss to her lips, effectively cutting her off. At first she’s stiff, but it only takes her a few seconds to relax and melt into him.

When Fred pulls away with one last peck to the lips, he smiles down at her, eyes twinkling. “Have I changed your mind with my superior snogging skills?”

Unable to help herself, she lets out an exasperated laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. But even then her gaze lingers on her homework, still on the floor in front of the fireplace—totally not yet finished—

“But I’ve only got a few pages left to go,” she says in one last stroke of adamancy.

”And what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you stay up all night without getting enough sleep?” They’ve reached the top of the staircase now, and Fred is fumbling with the doorknob of her dorm room, trying to open it with one hand without having to set her down.

“But Freddy.”

Fred pauses trying to open the door, lips unconsciously twitching up into an incredulous grin as he raises his eyebrows at her. Of course she had to use his one big weakness against him—he loves when she calls him Freddy. Or perhaps love is a severe understatement, because he always goes all putty in her hands whenever she sings it into his ear or shouts it at him from all the way across the hallways.

But Fred isn’t having it, not this time. “But [Y/N],” he mimics her tone, still grinning, and the voice in his heart tells him to peck her lips again, so he does. “I'm telling you, love, you need sleep. And besides, we’re already here—once I get this door open—aha!”

The door clicks open and reveals behind it the dark seventh year girls’ dorm room. Fred peers inside, unsure as he steps a single hesitant foot through the door, and then he withdraws back into the landing. “Suppose I'll have to drop you off here,” tuts Fred. “Can’t really barge into an all-girls dorm room in the middle of the night—even when I’m with you. Mum would have my head.” Gingerly, he sets her down on the ground, making sure she’s standing up completely before he takes his hands away. Grinning, he holds his palm out towards her and says, “That’ll be twenty galleons.”

”I didn’t even ask for—“

“A kiss, then.”

And her incomplete homework is still lingering in her head, bothering her—she really does need to have that done at least before breakfast tomorrow—but Fred is standing in front of her with the same playful smile that [Y/N] has never learned to resist so she sighs and stands on her tip-toes, places her hand on the back of his neck, and pulls him in for a kiss.

Fred is smiling—she can feel it against her lips. Eventually she starts smiling too, unable to help herself. When she pulls away, Fred cups her cheeks in his hand and pecks her forehead—and then her nose, and her cheeks, and her eyelids, and then she’s laughing, saying, “What are you doing?”

Fred lands another kiss to the tip of her nose, then drops his hands back to his sides. “You look far too lovely for someone in dire need of sleep.”

At the mention of sleep, a yawn tears its way out of her throat. Fred has to restrain himself from doubling over and sobbing because Merlin’s beard was that adorable.

”Fine,” [Y/N] says through yet another yawn, hand coming up to rub at her eyes. “Fine. Maybe I am tired.”

Fred gasps far too dramatically. “Who ever could have guessed?”

[Y/N] may be sleepy, but she still has enough strength within her to reach out and shove him lightly by the shoulder. Fred is as theatrical as always; he clutches the spot where she’d touched him as though he’s been fatally wounded.

She rolls her eyes, smiling. Another yawn. Fred drops his act and shoves his hands into his pockets, expression somber as he looks at her, eyes dancing over her own tired ones. “Go get some sleep, alright?”

She purses her lips, shoulders slumping in defeat as she nods. “Okay. Suppose I’ll just try to finish it as fast as I can tomorrow.” And then, voice going soft, she says, “Thanks, Fred.”

Fred is so goddamned endeared.

“And. Um.”

”Yes?”

“Sorry about being so bloody cranky. I'm—“ she pauses, eyes darting away for a moment as she gestures wildly to nothing in particular.

Fred raises his eyebrows.

“On my period,” she mutters. “Have I made it awkward? I'm sorry. I just didn’t want you to think you’d done something wrong for me to be acting.. you know.”

Fred’s brows have risen so far up his forehead he’s surprised they haven’t disappeared into his hair. His mouth has fallen open a little in surprise; whatever he’d been expecting her to say, it certainly hadn’t been that. But part of him is relieved at the knowledge that he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“So that’s why you’ve been acting like someone pissed in your tea,” says Fred teasingly. She rolls her eyes again—another yawn; the largest one so far, actually. He can’t help the fond laugh that tears its way out of his heart and past his lips. Reaching out, he places a hand on the back of her head and kisses her forehead. “Sweet dreams, love.”

She wraps her arms around his middle and nods into his chest, and Fred’s heart melts. “You too, Freddy.”

—

The next morning, [Y/N] wakes up to a mysteriously completed set of History of Magic homework and a bag of Honeydukes' chocolates on her bedside table.

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter oneshots #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #fred weasley #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley oneshots #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #george weasley #weasley twins

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sorcererrezan · 3 years

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golden hour

prompt fill for @ataleofcrowns. congratulations on the chapter 6 release cherry! 💛

prompt: facade pairing: navid/xelef rating: T word count: 2,042 warning: spoilers for X’s scene during chapter 6!

—

Xelef is rather partial to the color gold.

Gold meant a full belly. Gold meant a job well done. Gold meant having survived yet another battle.

Gold motivated him and the people around him. Gold got him into trouble as easily as it got him out of it.

So when gold eyes looked defiantly into his, a spark of light brightening that nebulous place where his intuition resides, and dropped a heavy sack clinking with a familiar sound, there was no other option but to say yes.

Xelef’s not quite sure when he starts thinking of the flash of cleverness in Navid’s eyes more than the sparkle of coin.

Just the night before, Heval forced him to examine this new tendency and why they haven’t yet moved on from Marabad. He’d resisted giving Heval the satisfaction of his admission at the time, but that was before his tendency powered his sprint to the tunnels and the burst of fire that kept Navid safe.

If Xelef’s urgency directed his aim closer to the kill than he intended, it was only because he wanted to do a thorough job. Certainly not because for a split second, the jagged edges of fear pierced through the hard acceptance that has fused with the shell of his heart.

That was before he discovered just how common of an enemy he and Navid have. Before gold also became something to defend instead of just throw at his leisure.

He didn’t divulge anything to the Blades besides the public warning that the Palace issued—which he still disagrees with, but spirits know there’s a reason it’s not him making those decisions.

Xelef felt Heval’s questioning suspicion curb somewhat, as well as the Blades’ recommitment to Navid. It helped him regain some stability in himself. As long as he’s not the only one with a soft spot for the newfound Crown he can tell himself that the way Navid affects him isn’t unique.

None of them had embraced Navid until his tears and the grip of his nightmare dissipated though. The intensity of Navid’s vulnerability had stunned him that night. Xelef thinks he might be able to relate to the way that his walls must have crumbled under their own weight during that moment, when the relief of a mission accomplished finally gave way to exhaustion. If he ever experiences it for himself, that is.

Instead of being unsettled by the raw display of emotion he’d had to insist on leaving Navid behind, lest the way his eyes wavered like coins at the bottom of a fountain compelled him to do something neither of them were ready for.

Despite the magnetic tension between them, he knows that they don’t trust each other. He’d considered Navid’s feelings only briefly when he conceived his plan before deciding to just deal with the consequences.

Well, now here they are. He’d anticipated how Navid might feel once his shrewd mind pieced it all together, but Xelef hadn’t foreseen how much he’d care.

It needles at him, the way Navid takes his motivations regarding coin at face value when they discuss the coronation. And it needles at him that it needles at him. That’s what he wants the Crown to believe anyway, right?

The dissonance isn’t really something he wants to entertain so he distracts himself by distracting Navid.

It’s rather more fun to catch the Crown staring at him than contemplate why there’s a kernel of him that anticipates an opportunity to be seen. Not just looked at as he so often is, up for strangers’ interpretation as he is now so used to, but seen.

The gold in Navid’s eyes is alive in a way coin could never be. There’s a playfulness that seems to live in Navid’s irises, which Xelef’s learning is partly a diversion for the cunning survivalist underneath.

Xelef stares right back, shameless in the way he parts the seam of his lips to drag his tongue across the bottom before letting Navid see how the plump softness of it gives under his thumb. He delights in darkening that sparkling mischief into something imaginative and promising and it’s not long before he gives the two of them a reason to leave the room together. The indulgently sly way that Navid looks at him insists that Xelef get him alone.

Awareness thrums between them as they walk together, but he can sense a contemplative mix of emotions from the man next to him. It’s enough to make him curious. “What are you thinking about?”

“Oh, nothing much, only the fact that I’m now responsible for millions of lives,” Navid is just as practiced as he is at showing who he’s supposed to be. If Xelef couldn’t sense his anxiety he might’ve believed his blithe tone.

The stakes are high and Xelef can feel the weight of that reality on Navid’s shoulders as if it sits on him like a pauldron. It’d be a flattering and dashing pauldron the way Navid wears it, but a symbol of conflict and its inevitable consequences nonetheless.

Xelef meets the slight bite of Navid’s sarcasm with his pragmatism, forged in fire and quenched to harden like steel. “If you obsess over the weight of your choices, you’ll become paralyzed by fear, and in that state you’re of no use to anyone.”

Navid eyes are sharp as he seems to consider not just his words but also his intent. Whatever he decides to himself seems to satisfy him because some of the spark in his eyes returns. Xelef wonders what conclusion Navid came to, to look at him like he knows something Xelef doesn’t.

He thinks he sees some relief in there too, and Xelef tells himself it relieves him in turn because he needs the Crown to be clear-headed and not because of the possibility that sharing his genuine perspective might have made him rise in Navid’s esteem.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Xelef steers them back into familiar waters with a self-satisfied twist of his lips. “I’m not just a pretty face, you know.”

Navid lets out a huff of a chuckle. He must be more exhausted than he let on because they slide into silence again. Xelef’s attempt at distracting Navid is successful though and soon enough he’s unable to contain his amusement. Xelef puffs up at the suggestion of his altruism, sliding back into the easy role of carefree rogue.

“Altruistic? Pah! Disgusting.”

But Navid promptly tugs at his facade. “You can drop the act, you know. I know you’re not wholly selfish at heart.”

“Is that what you really think, or is that what you hope for?” A devious rhythm softens the quick reflexes of his defenses even as his heart starts to race. Being exposed is terrifyingly thrilling. Or thrillingly terrifying. Both?

“You do like to perform. The role of carefree mercenary suits you well, I admit. But that can’t be all that there is to you.”

Navid pins him with piercing gold and Xelef hardly realizes as he’s backed against a window. It’s been a long time since anyone cared to find out who he really is as much as Navid ostensibly does.

Navid steps close enough that he has to tilt his chin down to hold his gaze and even he can’t deny that the proximity makes him feel like a live wire, like his pulse itself might jump out of his skin so it can press against the man who’s always so tantalizingly near.

Xelef considers that he might have met his match in Navid with a smirk.

Navid already has a decently apt approximation of him, despite Xelef’s penchant for misdirection and the fact that they’ve only really known each other a handful of days. Xelef’s moved quickly in the past but never quite like this.

But then again, nothing gets him into trouble as easily as gold.

“Navid.”

Xelef reaches a hand out, soothing a knuckle against the slightly puckered scar on Navid’s cheek. He’ll have to ask him the story behind it soon.

“If you wish for me to treat you tenderly, you need only ask.”

It comes out as a gentler murmur than he intends. Xelef doesn’t need to speak up to be heard after all, with how much closer Navid gets as he anchors a rough hand on top of his. It’s as close to an acknowledgement of Xelef’s complex and often contradictory thoughts and emotions about the man in front of him—the ones he prefers to leave unaddressed because they leave him feeling uncomfortably bare.

“Don’t tempt me, Xelef,” Navid’s voice is rough with restraint as his thick brows furrow with caution. “I’ll start believing you.”

“I lie about a lot of things, my dark-haired beauty, but never about this.”

“That’s a lie,” Navid purses his lips, eyes narrowing even as he considers his own assertion. It’s a look that Xelef has seen on him before, usually around a table with others, as Navid weighs the reality of what he knows against the possibilities of what he doesn’t to figure out how to move forward.

Just like earlier, Xelef feels the foreign compulsion for Navid to have confidence in him. It’s been a while since he cared to prove himself to anyone, and even now his better sense is reminding him that the distance he places between himself and others is there out of necessity. If he weren’t deep in the shit of it he’d find it amusingly fitting that they can both see glimpses past each other’s bravado. Of course the person that interests him most is also the one that directly challenges him to leave the familiarity of his facade.

“Perhaps.”

He doesn’t confirm or deny it, though it’s getting harder and harder to ignore his hope that Navid will just figure it out and acknowledge it for both of their sakes. Whether his evasiveness is a test of Navid’s understanding of him or his own hesitation to be understood, he can’t determine.

Neither can Navid it seems, because he redirects them to less murky waters. “And what is this, exactly?”

Xelef doesn’t answer immediately, taking his time to admire the sharp lines of Navid’s handsome face to reinforce his memory of it for later, after they part for the night.

“Right now? I would call this a flirtation,” this part is easy to admit. Flirtation comes naturally to both of them. He’s noticed the easy compliments Navid gives to others, how he effortlessly keeps those he thinks he might have use for close. His motives seem genuine enough—Xelef himself knows what the line between manipulation and exploitation looks like—though his charisma certainly has a craftily calculating edge to it.

“But we can make it anything you want it to be.”

Xelef leaves the rest up to Navid’s astute interpretation. An acute sense of anticipation holds him in place as Navid opens his mouth to respond and Xelef internally wills him to see—

—Magic displaces above Navid’s head, and the breath Xelef had been holding spills out as a laugh. Whatever Navid was about to say is swept up in him trying to recover from the spirits giving him away.

Ah well. At least he’ll have something to tease Navid about later.

Xelef doesn’t question how easy it is to insist that he keep his dagger with him. What would it mean if he and Navid use the same blade the first time they have to kill? Maybe it wouldn’t mean anything at all, but it reassures him that even if he’s away he can still be there for Navid when it happens, when the world inexorably reminds him of why he’ll always have to protect himself.

Is that altruism? When he tries to correct his own buried regrets by helping someone else avoid having the same ones?

Even more questions he’s not sure he wants to find the answers to.

But when he feels Navid’s resolve solidify inside him, sees the squaring of his shoulders as he lifts his gaze from the designs on his door and takes a steadying breath before stepping inside, Xelef knows he’ll have to accept that it might not end up being up to him anyway.

Gold just might be the death of him.

fin.

author’s note: i’ve been wanting to do a character study in X’s perspective for a while and there were so many LAYERS to their scene in chapter 6 that i took a one word prompt and wrote two thousand words about it lmao. i wanted to explore the duality between X’s persona and their actions and set a starting point for them early in the romance.

there’s a really delicious tension right now when they’re not acknowledging their deeper interest in the crown despite the fact that they’re always eye fucking whenever they can so much as see each other. i also wanted to play with the fact that they both know that there’s more than meets the eye and ALSO that they’re being manipulated in the grander scheme of their own personal agendas.

i also wanted to mold navid’s characterization from the perspective of someone trying to resist falling in love with him. spoiler alert X, it’s impossible. anyways! so many thoughts, head full of X. hope i did my favorite royal boy toy justice 🤎

#a tale of crowns #atoc #atoc prompt #xelara/xelef #oc: navid riahi #otp: for you i'll try my very best #distractions to lovers really HIT in chapter 6 😫🥺#fic

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starlight-vixen-emiko · 3 years

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Team Miraculous Introduction

Hey all! This is coming out of nowhere.

Basically I had this fanfic chapter about the Lukanette and Adrigami fankids I created becoming the new wielders of the miraculous...And Marinette and Luka’s oldest son becoming the new Ladybug.

I am posting this because @lenoraishere said she wanted to write about him so I felt I may as well post this introduction chapter.

The reason why Halloween is mentioned is because this is an introduction chapter to a Halloween fanfic I wrote last year...Speaking of which that fanfic is still in my files and I do intend to finish it and publish it once Halloween rolls around. Soon my darlings!

So anyways I hope you guys enjoy...This was my first time writing fankids and I will be humble and say this may not be the best introduction.

I hope you enjoy it Lenora...Believe me this doesn’t count as your birthday gift I have something better planned. Then again I realize your birthday is fast approaching and I have lost track of time! Eep!

~~~~~

My name is Leon Couffaine-Cheng. If you haven't heard of me, I am the son of Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Luka Couffaine, otherwise known as Ladybug and Viperion, the protectors of Paris.

The best protectors in the world. But shortly after I turned 15, my mom told me she felt a "sign from the Miraculous box" or something. I still remember it. It seemed like a typical day with my parents and little sisters. Then my mom gave me a devious smile and showered me with compliments when I just wanted to go to school early.

She told me that the box chose me to be the newer holder of the Ladybug Miraculous.

I just didn't get it. I mean, being a superhero sounds cool and all. Still, I don't know why I, in particular, was chosen to be the Ladybug. Or, as much as Tikki disagrees, I call myself Luckybug.

I figured my 13-year-old sister Marina was more suited. She is a fiery tomboy with electric blue hair and long pigtails, and she can skate and bike through anything. But my dad smiled at her and said she was chosen to carry the snake miraculous, Sass. Which she happily accepted.

Then there is my youngest sister Melanie. A beautiful little 9-year-old girl, kind-hearted, mature, helps around the house, and likes to bake sweets.

I figured Melanie would be the new Ladybug since she is Ladybug's biggest fan. She was super close to her Ladybug dolls when she was younger.

But recently, Melanie discovered a connection to the mouse miraculous.

I figured if this whole Ladybug thing did not work out for me, my little sister could take her place. But my parents are already protective of her and would prefer she not be a superhero until she is older.

It was too much for me to take, and I just wanted to go to school and have a typical day with my friends.

I met up with my best friend Masamori first.

Masamori Tsurugi-Agreste. Son of Adrien Agreste and Kagami Tsurugi. Also known as Chat Noir and Ryuuko.

They are the second greatest heroes of Paris, as much as Uncle Adrien and Aunt Kagami hate it when I say that.

Masamori lit up as usual when he saw me and said. "You'll never guess Leon! My mother told me that I was called by the dragon kwami Long!"

Long floated out of Masa's necklace and greeted me with a bow.

I looked at Masa straight in the eye with a sullen face.

"Leon, what's wrong?" Masa yelped.

I was about to open my mouth, and then Tikki appeared in front of me.

"I have been chosen to be Leon's partner!" Tikki said.

Masamori was overjoyed, but I couldn't help but vent to him about how this was a lot to take in. I question why I was chosen instead of Melanie.

We sat on a bench, and Masa gave me a pep talk. "This is a huge responsibility Leon, but I believe you can take it. There is a bigger reason for this, and weirder things have happened!"

As we walked through the crowd of students, I suddenly became self-conscious about the earrings I had to wear.

I covered my ears and said, "My dad can make earrings work, but I can't."

"You never looked better, Leon!" Masamori said.

I groaned under my breath and continued walking.

And then, just when I thought I could catch my breath.

"Leon! Take a look!" Masa said.

Up ahead was the recent transfer student Jinfeng. A beautiful Chinese girl with shiny long hair.

Now I felt even more self-conscious. I just wanted to hide my ears and run away. But I dropped my bag mid-escape and had no choice but to grab it. I had no idea Jinfeng was behind me.

"Leon," she said in a voice that made my heart skip a beat. "I love those earrings. They really suit you."

I turned out of politeness and tried to keep a benign expression, but I felt a big drop of sweat on my forehead and the back of my neck.

"Thank you for saying that!" I blurted out.

I realized it was a bit more frantic than I expected since she stepped back, looking a bit concerned.

Masamori gave me a bit of a push to get away.

"Come on, Leon, we have to head back to class!" Masamori cried.

After school, we met up with my sister Marina and Masamori's 13-year-old younger sister Erina. She is a blonde-haired Japanese-French girl, like someone out of an anime.

She spent nearly an entire summer in Japan and was lucky Marina was still best friends with her. She became the holder of the black cat miraculous. Sometimes we would team up, like my mom and Uncle Adrien teaming up back in the day, and I would joke about her being a cute kitty. Which she replied with, "Shut up, Bug Boy!"

"You're really good at scaring off girls with your cold demeanor, Lee-Kun!" Erina said.

Marina and Erina playfully laughed at my romance issues. Marina and Erina always caused mischief together. At least I had Masamori to get me out of mischief.

"Well, Erina and I are going to hang out tonight," Marina said.

Marina walked away with a skateboard in hand, and Erina had her kendo sword.

"I am not covering for you tonight!" I said.

Marina groaned and shrugged. "Fine!" She spat.

Masamori joined me in walking back to my house, where, as expected, my sister Melanie was watching movies with Masamori's youngest brother, Aiden Tsurugi-Agreste.

A boy mature for his age despite being only 9. Since Agreste-san and Tsurugi-san are usually busy with work, Aiden usually spends time here with Melanie. The two are inseparable friends watching movies here and making baked goods.

Melanie and Aiden looked at us as we came in.

"Hi Mel Mel," I said. "Hi, Aiden."

Melanie lit up. "Big brother!" She held her adorable little hands up. "I am so happy you're home safe. I hope nothing dangerous happened."

I sighed. "Nothing happened today, Mels." Just the way I like it.

"Luckybug is the great new hero of Paris!" Melanie said triumphantly. "Just like Mama was!" Melanie looked so incredibly starstruck.

Aiden smiled. "Yeah, it was great how you saved our school from The Food Fighter."

All I remember from that is bananas in my hair and stepping in gross puddles of spinach.

"I can take you home now, Aiden," Masamori said.

Aiden crossed his arms. "Five more minutes!"

Surprisingly Aiden hasn't felt a connection to a kwami. Which I guess isn't a terrible thing since Aiden is such a good boy, and I can't imagine him fighting anyone. But he is still an honorary member of Team Miraculous, so he deserves mention. That and he has been so good to my beloved younger sister.

Why am I bringing this up, you may ask? Because this Halloween is our first Halloween being miraculous holders. I just hope no weird Halloween akumatization happens that night. I just want to spend Halloween with my friends and my family. That isn't too much to ask for, right?!

"Mel-Chan!" Aiden cried. "I wonder what Halloween is going to be like for Team Miraculous."

Melanie smiled at Aiden as if she was just as excited over the idea. "Maybe the streets will be filled with walking skeletons, talking pumpkins, and ghosts Ai-Kun!"

I was flabbergasted! Melanie and Aiden treated this like this was a fun Halloween episode of a cartoon.

Akumas can make any event weird and freaky, and I am nervous just thinking about what could happen on Halloween night. It could be a scarier Halloween night than we could ever imagine.

Author’s Note: I apologize if this isn’t perfect. Honestly I didn’t care as much about making this pitch perfect because I wasn’t planning on publishing it on my ao3.

But yes I was considering writing a next generation fanfic.....Of course that sounds a bit nervewracking to me.

Yes there is a bit of a history repeats itself thing going on with Leon having a highschool crush...Granted recently I decided to make Leon bi and give him a male love rival as well but in this fanfic I couldn’t find a way to put the male love rival in just yet so I left that part out.

#pro lukamari #lukanette #adrigami #well ok adrien and kagami aren't present here sorry!#they will be present in the halloween fanfic though #endgame lukanette #endgame adrigami #lukanette fankids #adrigami fankids #my writing #my fanfiction

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fakeloveaskblog · 3 years

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I do believe it would be for the best for you to have that nice day with Janus that you'd planned to have, Logan. Like you said, you shouldn't neglect your own wellbeing, and your emotional wellbeing looks like it could use the break.

(Words: 3431)

Logan let out a sigh "You're right. Worrying nonstop for Remy won't help them either way"

Two days later Janus had a devious smile on his lips as he sat in the passanger seat of Logan's car. His boyfriend had picked him up directly from his apartement. He hadn't said where they were going.

"Let me guess. You are taking me to the woods and surround me by your league of vampires so you can go through with your monthly blood sucking ritual” Janus guessed.

"Oh no dear. That I do with Patty the first thursday of every month" Logan replied druly.

His hands were shaking slightly as he held onto the steering wheel. Every time he looked over to his boyfriend all he could see was Remy passed out with the bruise all around their neck. He could hear every word they'd yelled. His throat tightened.

Logan hit the brake and the car slid to a stop. They were near a park. It was 9 pm and the sky had started to darken.

"We can- We can walk the rest of the way yes? Some fresh air has almost never hurt anyone and the cases where it has are very fascinating" He hoped it would distract him.

“Ah yes because I am so well known for enjoying long walks!” Jan replied sarcastically “Maybe I will if it’s with you”

Logan took out a bag from the backseat. Jan took his boyfriend's free hand and leaned his cheek against his shoulder as they went into the park.

"Is that the bag you're going to hide my body in?"

"I'm afraid the bag is too small for that"

Janus let out an incredibly dramatic gasp while gripping his chest "The rudeness!! Baffling rudeness!!!"

“Yes. I took you here to surprise you with my rudeness”

They went on a path lined with trees until they got to a hill. The trees all but surronded the hill. Aside from some teenagers playing music far away they seemed to be some of the only people in the park.

Once they got to the top Logan pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek “Close your eyes” He murmured into his ear.

His cheeks immediately turned bright red “Well darling since you will now most definitely murder me I am glad your face will be the last thing I see!”

He stood in blindness for at least 3 minutes. His chest was bubbling over with excitement. He didn’t even realize he was shimmying his shoulders to happy stim.

“Alright. My honeysnake you may open your eyes” Logan’s voice was also filled with excitement.

Janus let out a small gasp as he looked. Logan had laid out a star embroidered blanket and sat with his legs crossed on it. He held out a bottle of red wine, his boyfriend’s favorite kind of course. He’d brought several different pastries. Jam drops shaped like hearts, a lemon pie, strawberry bars, 2 cupcakes one with frosting made to look like a snake and one made to look like an owl.

“Oh....” Janus was speechless for a moment before getting a smug smirk on his lips “I see that you’re going in the route of poisoning me through romantic food”

“I am estimating that you will continue with that joke all night, yes?”

“Correct”

Janus cuddled up to his side. Logan took his hand and pressed a kiss to the top of it before handing him a glass of wine. They clinked their glasses together. The stars had started to come out.

He inspected each and every dessert in an incredibly dramatic fashion before taking a strawberry bar. As soon as he took a bite his eyes went wide.

"Darling which overworked soccer mom did you rob these from???"

Logan triumphantly pointed at himself "This overworked soccer mom. I bake even more than on a regular basis when I am stressed, and I have been experiencing a lot of stress lately"

He held onto his hand harder "My boyfriend senses did go off before. Do you want to talk about it? Or shall I simply push whoever is causing you the stress down a flight of stairs?"

"Oh I wish you would throw him down many stairs" Logan mumbled to himself. ".....It is....quite alright dear. I want this night to be a sort of distraction...for now please dont ask about it"

"My lips are sealed then...but not for the food!"

They cuddled together, ate and drank while looking at the stars. There were no clouds out. No wind. It was like the universe had wanted them to have a good night.

Janus pointed at each and every star constellation he could make out and made an intentionally horrible guess on what it was so Logan could infodump. His eyes were glimmering as he explained it. He looked so beautiful Jan wanted to kiss him endleesly.

“Okay...so..Andromeda was your favorite right?” Janus asked. He had jam on his lips from the sweets (crofters obviously) “Which one is it?”

Logan leaned close to his side and laid his hand on his boyfriend’s chin to move his head to see it “Right there. It’s brightest star is alpha andromedea”

Janus nodded along “Darling what constellation do you think suits me best?”

His expression turned incredibly serious. This was a life or death answer! “Well Patty’s favorite is ursa major aka big bear but you hmmmm Lacerta is a quite obvious once since it’s a lizard...but I think Horologium fits you better"

"Honey all I heard there was you saying ancient latin to summon a demon"

"It’s a pendulum clock! It fits you since they’re mysterious and" He gazed into his boyfriends eyes "They're also very pretty to look at"

Janus let out a pff while shoving his hand in Logan’s face to make him look away "Dork" He chuckled out as his cheeks heated up.

"Oh yes that reminds me"

He pressed a quick kiss to Jan's nose before scrambling around in his bag. He took out a long yellow plush snake. It had a black hat and a red tounge sticking out.

"This was for some reason on my doorstep a few nights ago. It reminded me of you so I thought you should have it"

Janus looked at it with wide eyes "Wait"

He took out a big blue owl plushie from his bag. It had a tiny bow and square glasses. It was incredibly fluffy for an owl.

“This was by my door as well!”

“I am sure there is a logical explanation for this! I am also sure you deserve a snake present”

They switched the plushies. Janus held the snake plushie in his hands and looked down at it’s big kind eyes. He grimaced.

“Darling...I uh already have a snake at home...and it’s totally not like that owl reminds me of you and I’ve already grown attached to having it in my bed and imagining it’s you or anything...totally not”

Logan let out a breathe of relief “Oh yes! Honey I have been hugging that snake as if it’s my second lung. So I technically don’t need it but it does help me live!”

Janus hugged the owl plushie close to his chest while Logan put the snake around his neck like a scarf. Lo looked over to his boyfriend and got a small smile on his face.

“But my sweet honeysnake you can....slither into my apartement and into my arms whenever the plushie isn’t enough” He moved his hand to his boyfriend’s chin and leaned in.

Janus flinched away, for a moment there was fear in his eyes.

“I am very sorry” Logan said “I was not intending to kiss you on your lips. I am aware of your boundaries and will not do it until you tell me you’re ready. I was going for your cheek”

“Sorry” He hid his face in the owl’s soft fur so his boyfriend wouldn’t see his embarrassment “I’m sorry”

“There is no reason to apologize here but I will accept your aplogy nonetheless”

Logan gave his boyfriend some time to gather himself, he knew how easily overwhelmed he got. He munched on some of the leftover pie. Janus sunk in on himself.

“Can I tell you something?” Janus quietly asked while fiddling with the owl’s wing to keep himself calm.

“Of course hun”

“...I contacted Picani..and I have been talking to him. It-it’s only been 3 or so sessions and they’re only like 15 or 30 minutes. It’s barely anything. But I’d thought I’d tell you”

He glanced back up to Logan and was taken aback by the big goofy grin on his lips. It was so unlike him.

“Janus that’s great!” He threw his arms around him and pulled him into a hug so sudden they both nearly tumbled over “I’m so proud of you!”

It took a moment before Janus took it in. He shone up into a smile and leaned into the hug. His nose pressed against the slope of his boyfriend’s neck and the plushies got crushed between them.

"You just sounded uncannily much like Patty" Jan chuckled out.

“I can accept that!” He took his boyfriend’s hand while stimming with the other “Is the therapy helping you progress emotionally? Of course it’s alright if you haven’t yet, asking for help is well enough”

Janus leaned away from him, just a bit so Logan’s arms were still around him but they weren’t pressed against each other. He looked away to the stars and bit the inside of his cheek.

“It’s doing wonders! I don’t have tentacles sprouting out of my back anymore” He tried to joke but it didn’t sound happy “..It is helping...genuinely..It’s just....I think my family might not have been the best. THey weren’t abusive! Not anywhere close! So I am unsure if they really were bad at all, even if Picani says so”

“Oh honey” Logan said it so very softly “They don’t have to have been abusive, or mean to treat you bad. If they hurt you they hurt you. That’s all that matters”

He nodded “Right....right. May I vent about it?”

“Of course”

He moved his hand through the owl’s fur to keep him calm “My mom would comment on what I ate constantly. Anything I ate was too much for her since I already looked disgusting-”

“You don’t. Objectivly so”

“I- I know. But I still think about it every time I eat. And I worry about eating around other people, what if they think I’m gross”

“Then they’re objectivly an asshole and I will kick my knee into their chin. Including your mother!”

“Logan no!”

“Logan yes!”

Lo knew he had succeeded when Janus let up into a laugh.

“Oh it was horrible” Janus continued through the last small chuckles “Every time she forced me to go buy clothes with her I would get panic attacks from what she said about my body and I always hid it because I was afraid of what she would say. And the one time she heard me literally sobbing in a dressing room all she said was that I was overreacting and to hurry up”

Logan was very quickly forgetting that the kicking in face thing was supposed to be a joke “Mhm yes that does indeed sound astronomically horrible yes”

Janus wiped his hand over his eye as if to rub memories away “It was....I thought so much of it was normal..I didn’t know-”

“You shouldn’t have had to think like that in the first place”

“I know....I know...They made me feel so much shame...Before I even knew...Just hearing my dad talk about...people like me on the tv made me feel shame before I even fathomed the idea that I could like men”

He let up into another laugh. The kind of laugh that came when he remembered something so bad the only thing he could do to not cry was to laugh.

“I- I’d never heard my mom say anything about it so I tried coming out to her” He chuckled “It didn’t go well! I used a youtube video because I couldn’t physically say the word gay. And then she outed me to my dad behind my back and never told me! I found out through my aunt!”

Logan was moving away from a knee kick and instead thinking of bringing a baseball bat.

“And- And I should have known because right after when- we were on vacation and my dad- I was 14 I think maybe it’s blurry- I-I saw two men hold hands in public and I’d never- I felt so happy- I wanted to run up to them- I couldn’t stop staring and then..and then my dad moved his arm around my shoulders and pointed at them and he looked into my eyes and his voice was so steady” Janus’ eyes had stopped moving, they were staring out into thin air as if he could see it happening again “He told me that what the men were doing was wrong. That We didn’t like that. That it was disgusting. And then he forced me to walk away”

Janus’ hand was shaking as he gripped onto the plushie to keep himself present. Logan gently took one of his hands and pressed a kiss to it.

“You shouldn’t have had to hear that, ever”

“It feels so good to finally tell someone” He sighed “Aside from Picani I’ve held that to myself for so so long....It’s...It’s been so many years. Shouldn’t I be over this. The shame has gotten a bit better...but it’s still there”

“Honey, For how long have you lived without being in contact with those...those wretched humans made out of boiled together pieces of maggot bones?” Logan asked in a straightforward tone.

“Around 14 months? I think? It’s all so blurry. Me before and after meeting you totally don’t feel like 2 different people or anything”

“Mhm. How many times have you gone to therapy?”

“3 times”

“No human being can be expected to recover from several years of trauma, because it is trauma, in such a short amount of time. Especially with such a small amount of professional help” Logan said in a very agressive but somehow also loving voice while smacking his hand to the top of his boyfriend’s head to pat him.

Janus looked at him. He looked at the way he was trying so hard to comfort him in his own lovely way. Looked around at the stars lighting up their date. Looked at the leftover food his boyfriend had spent time to make just to share between them, because he never saw him as disgusnting no matter what he ate.

He let up into a smile before leaning forward so his and Logan’s foreheads were pressing against each other. He intertwined their fingers. He felt his boyfriend’s breathe against his nose.

Oh he was so alive. He was holding hands with his boyfriend and he was so alive.

“I love you” Janus murmured out.

Logan shone up into a soft smile “I love you too”

He cupped Janus’ cheeks and leaned even closer. Their eyes met so perfectly. Logan could see the stars mirroring in his boyfriend’s eyes, like a small galaxy.

“And honey- Janus, you’re not perfect because none of us are and you shouldn’t feel the need to be perfect, but there is not a goddamn part of you you should ever feel ashamed of”

A warm feeling filled Janus’ chest. He leaned forward and kissed Logan.

His boyfriend’s lips were so soft against his, he closed his eyes and melted into the kiss. For a moment he didn’t even realize what he’d done, all he could think about was Logan’s warm hands against his cheeks and his lips that tasted like strawberries and coffee.

BUT OH BOY THEN JANUS REALIZED WHAT THE FUCK HE WAS DOING.

He practically flung away from Logan just as suddenly as he’d kissed him. His chest was rapidly heaving up and down as he gasped for breathe. He clasped his hand over his mouth.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t- I’m sorry- I should have asked you before- Sorry”

Logan was tracing his fingers over his lips, as if he could barely even believe what had just happened “Honey dear sweetheart beloved you” He let out a small happy sound “I think I’ve made it quite clear I was Very ready for you kissing me whenever you wanted to”

“Oh- Oh okay. Phew”

“Your lips taste like crofters! This is amazing! A scientific miracle! I have to study your lips! In multiple ways!!”

Janus let up into a light laugh “Darling there was crofters in the jam drops you made. Of course I taste like crofters”

“hmm. Seems logical. Your lips are still from here on out classified as a scientific miracle either way”

“Can we...” Janus was full on grinning as he nervously asked “Can we kiss again? Please?”

Logan didn’t answer. He simply squeezed his boyfriend’s cheeks and kissed him. And kissed him. And kissed him.

He kissed so hard they both tumbled over. Janus fell down on his back and Logan used his arms to not fall down on top of him. They looked at each other for a moment, cheeks flushed, lips red, eyes wide, and smiled.

Janus tugged at his boyfriend’s tie to pull him into another kiss. His hand was in his hair, the other on his lower back. His thigh was somewhere pressed against Logan’s ribs. All he could focus on was the feeling of his lips. It felt like electricity was going up and down through his body at hyper speed.

This wasn’t exactly Logan’s first rodeo so he noticed very quickly when Janus opened his eyes and started looking unsure. He quickly moved away and laid himself down beside him. His arm was laid out across his boyfriend’s chest and their hands were still intertwined.

“Sorry. This is totally not at all a lot to take in” Janus panted out “I only need a second and a spa bath to process it”

“That is alright dear” Logan was still grinning. His cheeks started to hurt from it. He let up into happy flaps “I have been waiting for this for approximately 12 months and I will have you know it was very worth the wait. You are a natural my love. The first time I kissed Patty I fell off a swing and broke my glasses immediately afterwards”

Janus giggled at his story. He clasped his mouth shut. The giggles sounded so unlike him. They were so light and loud, but he couldn’t stop giggling. It was like millions of small butterflies were finally leaving his stomach and were transforming right into giggles.

They laughed together, their bodies pressed close together, as they looked up at the night sky. The tree tops outlined the galaxy above them.

“Darling it was a great night to take me star-gayzing” Janus chuckled out.

Logan stared at him as if he’d just thrown a watermelon into his eye “Was that a pun I heard?! I automatically despise you!”

“You love me! You said it!!” He giggled back.

“How do I keep ending up with pun makers. This is highly ridicolous!"

"Muhahaha. It is all in the plan deary!” Janus moved his arms around mysteriously “The great evil pun plan!"

“I’ll kiss you until you tell me all about it”

“Hard bargain, but I’ll surely manage”

Logan pouted while moving to press a kiss to his boyfriends collar bones. He kept littering kisses to his neck and cheek and nose until kissing him on the lips again.

He wished they weren’t in a public space so he could kiss his wonderful thighs, his stomach rolls, his shoulders, every stretch mark on his chest. So he could give him all the love he'd daydreamed about.

Janus looked at him with a sneaky grin and red cheeks "Would it be acceptable to try with tounge now?"

"Incredibly acceptabe"

He gently moved Janus so he sat on top of his hips. His hands were leaned on either side of Logan’s face.

"Are you sure I’m not too heavy?" Janus mumbled out.

"Honey Patty is about the same size as you. I am Very used to having my pelvic crushed. In multiple ways"

Janus nodded and let up into a nervous smile. Logan moved his boyfriend’s head close and parced his lips. His hand rested against his cheek.

"You're beautiful. You're so incredibly beautiful" Logan murmured before brining him in for another kiss.

#mini fic #for anyone finding this in the tags i promise after the read more its just pure romance #you dont need any context #loceit #janus sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #its past 2 am and my eyes are blurry from tired so sorry for any grammar mistakes

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