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#when they are together their head is empty
sttoru · 18 hours
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𝝑𝑒 synopsis. tired of the continuous bullying you’re receiving from the other concubines, you finally decide to stand up for yourself. the tension dulls when lord sukuna breaks the fight up.
tags. true form!ryomen sukuna x concubine!reader. sfw - angst kinda, little suggestive. mentions of bullying. violence. fighting. vile language. reader gets referred to as a ‘bitch, slut, whore’ by the concubines. reader gets referred to as ‘brat, woman’ by sukuna. not beta read bcs im sleepy. @ohimsummer, thank you for the idea LOL
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you’re tired. tired of being treated like less by the others in sukuna’s harem. they’re salty—jealous—because of the shameless favoritism sukuna shows. you’re his favorite, the one he can’t seem to get enough of.
that’s exactly why you’re on the floor right now. you’ve fallen to your knees after tripping over a concubine’s foot. you were passing by to go to your headquarters, though apparently such a mundane thing can’t happen in this place without some woman interfering in the worst way possible.
“oops,” the blonde one laughs as she sees you on the wooden floor. you’re covered in food and some. . . gooey beverage. you don’t know what it is, but it’s making everything feel uncomfortably sticky. your clothes, your fingers, your skin. it’s starting to itch.
“should’ve looked where you were going,” another girl chimes in. the brunette. she feigns pity and throws a handkerchief in your face, causing the other concubines to giggle. there are three of them in total. they always stick together to bully you.
the one with green eyes speaks up as well, “now now, don’t be so harsh to the poor slut! she’s got no brain to use after all.”
the other two laugh as you try your best to stay calm. you’re always telling yourself to be the bigger person in difficult situations. you’re clenching your hands into fists, your body basically trembling in anger. you want to swing. to show them that you’re worthy of respect.
“aww, she’s gonna cry,” the blonde one pouts—a mocking pout that gets on your nerves. the laughs sounding from the trio are like nails on a chalkboard. you want to make it stop. you’re tired of keeping it civil, when they have never tried doing the same.
your eyes land on the serving tray next to your hands. the one they emptied on your head ‘by accident’. you take a deep breath and try to remind yourself that it’s probably best to go wash up. they desperately want a reaction out of you and you refuse to give it to them.
despite it all, you’re mad. you’ve gone through enough of this. all because of sukuna’s favoritsm. all because you’re you.
they’re salty that they can never be you. you’ve seen their pathetic attempts to put you down yet simultaneously try and copy your entire existence. thinking that would somehow get them in your position as sukuna’s favorite.
you’re sick and tired of it. today’s the day you show them exactly that. you’re going to show those women that you can and will beat some sense into them.
“oy, dumb slut, answ—” the blonde is interupted before she could finish her sentence. a loud bang reverberates through the hallway and everyone falls silent.
she’s the one on the floor now instead of you. you’re up, the wooden tray in your hands, the one you just used to smack the life out of her. she’s whimpering and holding her red cheek. a nasty bruise is sure to form on her skin; deserved.
“i’ll answer you, alright,” you mumble under your breath. you’re panting as the adrenaline keeps pumping. you stand over her and lift up the serving platter in the air once more—bringing it down over and over against her head, which she’s trying to shield with her hands.
the other two concubines are frozen in pure shock. you’re not thinking anymore. you’re on autopilot. the woman’s yelps and screeches are music to your ears. “hah. you sound as ugly as you look,” you spit on her, watching the blood trickle down the corner of her mouth. you lift your arms up to bring the wooden platter down on her body again, but you’re stopped.
the green eyed concubine had moved first. she grabs your wrists with one hand and smacks you across the face with the other. “have you lost your mind?!” she yells and raises her hand to slap you again. the disrespect you’re showing clearly was not expected nor is it welcomed.
“don’t you fucking touch me,” you kiss your teeth. you’re glaring at her with pure hatred. you push and slap her right back. you’re sure the blonde won’t be up for a while now—she’s done for.
you don’t know if you went a bit overboard with it, considering she’s barely conscious anymore, but you couldn’t care less at the moment.
you’re surprised when the third concubine yanks your hair. “oh, you little bitch!” the brunette grabs a bunch of your hair with both hands and tugs at it to drag you down on the floor. you wince in pain but quickly pull at her own brown locks. you struggle to keep your balance and your scalp aches.
you hate it when women go for your hair when fighting, though luckily you know your way out of it. you take a deep breath and bring her head down, lifting your left leg up at the same time. her forehead comes crashing down on your knee and she loosens her grip on your hair.
“disgusting,” you huff and take the opportunity to push her fragile body aside, making her trip over the blonde girl on the floor. you can’t help but think that your current state is quite similar to a certain someone.
the violence. the seething anger. you’ve seen this scene way too many times before. you’ve learnt it from him.
your thoughts are interrupted by someone pulling the back of your hair, causing you to stumble backwards. “a whore like you needs to be taught some manners,” the green eyed concubine sniffs and keeps a tight grip on your hair. she delivers a few punches to your face, which you actually struggle to block for a second.
the force hitting your nose makes it bleed. that only angers you further. you gather some saliva in your mouth before spitting it out right in the girl’s eyes. you take your chance and grab her hair, smashing her head against the nearby fusuma. the thin plaster the sliding doors are made out of breaks, and she falls right through into the other room.
“i think you all need to be taught how to act,” you pant and wipe the blood dripping down your chin with the back of your hand. you walk through the opening you made in the frail door, kicking the concubine right in the face as revenge for the nosebleed she gave you.
you crouch down, your fingers tangling into her hair. you yank her head up and stare her right in the eyes. there’s an eerie, dark look in yours. “why can’t you just accept that you’re nothing but trash in your lord’s eyes?” you sneer. you are pitying them instead of the other way around, like how it usually would be.
and they despise it.
“you fucking—” “bitch? slut? whore?” you finish her sentence for her with an exasperated sigh. you’ve heard those insults a thousand times before. it’s nothing new. it’s always the same nasty and repetitive comments. you slap the concubine in front of you again for good measure before standing up, “you should come up with something new. it’s getting boring.”
you walk over to the other two, who are still recovering. you add to your last comment with a shrug, trying to hit them where it hurts, “your repetitiveness explains why lord sukuna rarely calls for you at night. i bet your severe lack of creativity shows even in bed.”
“you’re just a boring and hopeless bunch,” you’re out for blood. the blonde and brunette are looking up at you with fear and the sight excites you for some reason. they’re crawling away, trying to go find someone who would save them. the servants are nowhere to be found. nor is uraume, who usually stops the petty arguments.
they’re terrified by how you’re acting right now. they’re clearly seeing sukuna in you. in your eyes and the aura you’re emitting.
you’re mirroring him, his merciless personality and all included. he’s subconsciously taking over your mind and it’s terrifying them.
your steps are heavy as you walk towards the concubines. you don’t pay attention to the blood trickling down your chin, nor do you care about the ache in your scalp from the earlier hair pulling. all you care about is getting revenge for yourself.
you could complain to sukuna and have him punish them in your place, but that wouldn’t be enough. you’re going to make sure that they don’t try you again any time soon. you grab the blonde by her arm, lifting your fist to punch her—
“oi, brat.”
your eyes widen and you snap out of your mad daze. sukuna’s voice shakes the floors with how loud it is. you whip your head to the side and see his tall figure standing at the end of the hallway—uraume being right behind him. it looks like they were the one that rushed to inform sukuna of the ruckus.
you drop the other concubine and look at the mess. the broken fusuma. the blood splatter on the wooden flooring. your disheveled hair and clothes. your bleeding nose. the crimson stained plate and spilt food that got everywhere.
it’s a complete mess.
sukuna doesn’t utter a word. he just glares right at you. you’re not sure if it’s because of your irresponsible behaviour or the mess you created. or both. he marches over to you and grabs you by the back of your collar with one big hand.
“m-my lord,” you whimper, nearly choking as you’re held up in the air like you weigh nothing, like one would do to a cat’s nape. one of sukuna’s hands keeps you up whilst the others hang limply by his side. his red eyes scan your body, moving up and then back down.
you don’t know what to say. you surely have overstepped a boundary - or multiple - with what you’ve done today. you’ve disturbed the peace in the estate and have caused damage to sukuna’s property. both to his women and the interior of his palace.
you cough up a bit of blood that was stuck in the back of your throat. you’re uncertain of how you should explain yourself. “i’m sorry, my lord. i didn’t know what came over me,” you apologise and look down at the floor below your feet. you’re too embarrassed to look the king of curses in the eyes.
sukuna stays silent. it’s nerve wracking since you have no idea what he’ll do in response to your outburst. his facial expression is blank, so you aren’t able to guess what’s going on in his head. it’s a complete mystery.
however, the tall man is secretly more amused than anything. what you’ve just done, is one of the most interesting things he has seen a human do. sukuna witnessed everything from the beginning to the end and thoroughly enjoyed it. from the way you used that serving plate as a weapon to the way you managed to get out of those concubines’ grasps each time.
it’s strange to sukuna; he felt something when he saw you in action like that.
pride? perhaps that’s it. sukuna can’t pinpoint the exact emotion, though if he were to describe it, the closest word would be indeed pride. he is proud to have discovered and witnessed that untamed side of yours. you’re always full of pleasant surprises that keep even a dangerous curse like him on his toes.
it’s why he will never get bored of you. he wishes to unleash your full potential one day.
sukuna finally breaks the silence with an amused snicker. one of his hands move to wipe the blood from your nose. you cringe when he slowly licks the red liquid from his fingers afterwards—clearly ravishing the metallic taste.
“y’ finally did something, huh?” sukuna grins wickedly. he knows of the harassment you’ve been going through and he couldn’t wait to see you snap like this one day.
it’s sickening that he allows the bullying to continue just for the sake of creating drama, but it’s also worth it to him, since he’s got to unlock a side of you he knew you had buried deep inside. sukuna is a selfish bastard. you know that much, yet you like it when he looks at you with a prideful gaze and grin.
it’s so obvious that sukuna took pleasure in what he’s witnessed. he couldn’t believe how much you actually resembled him in a way.
if he were to be honest: it turned him on like crazy. seeing how you fought back against those women and how nearly deranged you became. the degrading words you spewed. . . sukuna cannot get enough of it. if it were up to him, he’d have let you continue. but for your own sake, he decided against it.
as much as he loves that untamed side of yours, sukuna knew that he couldn’t let you go too far. not because he wants to defend those other women, but because he still needs you to stay sane. going down that path of violence surely will do you more damage than good.
he’ll fully corrupt you - your body and mind - one day. just not today.
sukuna lets you back on your feet after you nearly fail to breathe. he cocks his head to the side, still having a menacing smirk on his face. he roughly pinches your cheek, “it was entertaining, i’ll give you that, woman.”
you wince as sukuna pinches the exact cheek you had a bruise on. he’s never done so before, therefore you don’t have a clue about the meaning behind that gesture. though the compliment told you that he was pleased by the ruckus more than he was annoyed by it.
sukuna still hasn’t bat an eye to the other concubines. they are waiting for their lord to punish you for hurting them, but it all seems to be in vain. they know better than to speak up about that to him. they’re easily replaceable. they know that by now. it’s as clear as day.
you’ve drilled that into their head today.
the king of curses pushes your small body towards uraume and you nearly bump against their chest with how easily he moved you around. uraume catches you in time and helps you stand straight, awaiting their master’s orders.
sukuna checks you out one more time in that disheveled state, before you go back to your formal and reserved self. his interest in you has been piqued by today’s events and he wonders when he can experience that side of yours again. he nods at uraume, “make sure she’s properly taken care of.”
uraume doesn’t waste a single second after being given an order. “understood,” they reply curtly and keep you steady so you could walk with them towards the physician’s quarters.
you look up at sukuna, trying to catch a glimpse of him before you’re taken away. he’s staring right back at you, the corners of his lips twitching into another subtle grin. he’s surprisingly pleased and content with your actions.
however it’s also not so surprising, considering that he loves it when you show any hint of resistance or stubbornness. whether it’d be to him or to his concubines.
sukuna’s facial expression turns cold the moment you’re gone and he’s left with the mess. “she took the words right out of my mouth,” he stares down at the three women on the floor who’re still unable to stand. he’s not helping them up—that’s their own problem, “y’re a pathetic bunch.”
the concubines flinch as they hear the inevitable from their own lord. hearing it from you was frustrating, but hearing it directly from the man that’s taken them in is heartbreaking. they don’t dare look up at him in such pitiful states.
“all three of you,” sukuna addresses them sharply. his arms cross over his chest, a ruthless tone to his voice. the concubines tremble in his presence, though it’s partially still because of the fear you’ve implemented in their systems.
he would’ve killed them off right then and there, though you’ve done enough damage to them both physically and mentally for now.
sukuna however, still couldn’t care less about their wellbeing. their wounds and bruises are something they’ll need to fix on their own.
he points at the floor and broken door with his head before turning around to leave the miserable trio. sukuna leaves them with an order that’s usually left to the servants;
“clean up the damn mess you caused. it better be taken care of before i return. ‘nd i don’t wanna hear a single squeak from any of you about this.”
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ttsukiimi · 3 days
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❛ I FVCKED MY BODYGUARD! ❜
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୨୧⋆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬  ⎯ Toji fushiguro is nothing but a bodyguard—or at least those are the words you keep telling everyone including yourself. But when you’re under him, moaning his name, can you really say that?
୨୧⋆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬  ⎯ bodyguard!toji fushiguro x actress!reader, smut (mdni), n!pple sucking & n!pple play, implied size difference, slight manhandling, softdom! & bigd!ck!toji, unprotected sx, mentions of ichiji, reader referred to as (doll, baby, princess)
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'Famous actress 'suki' ttsukiimi facing backlash after allegedly being seen in public holding hands with her bodyguard! Fans step forward with pictures as proof!'
Your eyes rolled as you saw the news headline, and you wondered if someone actually sat down and wrote it.
For starters, Toji Fushiguro was nothing more than your bodyguard—and, of course, he had to accompany you in public because that was his job! And, while the holding hands aspect appeared incriminating, he was merely doing it to keep you steady as you went through the crowd.
You made an effort to clear your head for the upcoming night, but your mood soured with bitter irritation. Thoughts of Toji suddenly sprang to mind as you were trying to declutter your mind. You couldn't help but wander off to the feeling of his big hand encasing your smaller one, the waft of his cologne into your nostrils as he walked beside you and tried his best to politely push people out of the way.
He was just perfect in every aspect—tall, muscular, intimidating, you couldn't count how many times you'd wanted a simple touch from him to lead to something else.
Your phone snapped you out of your daydreaming, the chime of your ringtone echoing throughout the almost empty hotel room. Quickly, almost embarrassingly so, you read the contact's name, and inwardly smiled to yourself. Just who you wanted.
"Hello?" your sugary voice rung throughout the speaker. Toji could feel himself heat up from your voice alone, imagining the way your plump lips moved as you talked, and he cleared his throat.
"We're waiting for you outside, doll. Hurry up, yeah?" he mumbled, letting his hand hang back on the car's headrest.
You let out an acknowledging hum, not daring to speak with the way you clenched your thighs together—his tone and the deepness of his voice alone sending a shock of electricity through you. Not to mention the pet name.
Soon enough, you met with Toji and your chauffer, Ichiji, outside. You'd made sure to wear something risqué, and both men were more than glad to gaze at you through their peripheral, though toji made no attempt to hide his staring. 
The ride to your wardrobe stylist was silent, save for a few impatient grumbles from toji on how long the ride was going to take. He could really act so immature sometimes.
୨୧
You stepped out of the room, velvet material clinging to your body like second skin and gleamed at Toji. "What do you think?"
His throat congealed with breath. You appeared breathtaking; the stylist having done a phenomenal job of selecting dresses that accentuate your complexion and emphasize your curves.
Toji gave a playful suck of his teeth. "Eh."
You rolled your eyes and grabbed your phone on a nearby table and checked the time. It was almost time to get going.
"Tojii, please help me choose. Y'know I can't rely on Ichiji." That, however, was a lie; if anyone was aware of actress-appropriate style, it was him .You merely wanted a justification to continue showing Toji yourself in small little dresses. Not that he couldn't admit he liked watching you do that.
Once again, the scarred-lipped man sucked his teeth. "Go with the black one, with the back cutout, I guess."
୨୧
It was finally time for the nomination. Toji grinned to himself as he saw you on stage, light sparkling in your eyes, making you appear ethereal. You competed with other actresses for best of the year.
The announcer began to speak, her voice sweet, but not as much as yours, he reasoned. And it would be an understatement to say that Toji, and the entire audience, were upset not to hear your name.
"Who the fuck even is that?" he whispered under his breath, but his eyes softened as he noticed the smile on your face when you heard your name for the second time.
Everyone's eyes were drawn to you as you strutted over to receive your award, fascinated by the glow you emitted, and the audience erupted in cheers. Toji let out a small cheer just for you.
When the event was finally done and the paparazzi and bothersome interviewers had left, you let out a sigh of relief. Toji took your hand and guided you to the waiting limousine, opening the door for you.
You hoped this wouldn't cause another news headline.
"Thanks," you mumbled before succumbing to tiredness and falling asleep, letting your head rest on his shoulder.
When you awoke, you were comfortably positioned on your hotel room's bed, with the blankets warming your restless body. Your initial inclination was to search around for Toji, but there was no sign of him. You sprang out of bed and began searching for him, only to find him just as he was about to leave.
He tilted his head. "Did I wake you?"
You shook yours. "No, I—Can you stay?" The sentence slipped through your lips before you could catch it. Your eyes widened and your cheeks burned with embarrassment, even more so when you timidly looked up at him to find him smirking.
"Doll." he hummed, walking towards you, making you look at him with a finger under your chin. "When are ya gonna just say it?"
Your heartbeat skyrocketed, not only from the contact and closeness of his huge body, but also from the look on his face.
"If you wanna fuck just say that."
Your knees buckled under your weight, Toji catching you in his arms. You both looked at each other's lips and back up, and in his arms, you felt like you were under a trance.
Lips soon collided. One kiss led to a make-out session, and that led to you being manhandled and thrown onto the bed. Toji crawled on after you, the angry erection under his black slacks poking through.
Your eyes widened in shock. "Toji.."
He hushed you with a quick peck, the unfastening of his belt and zipper sounding throughout the room. "Open your legs."
His hands lit fires on your skin as he slid them down to your thighs, spreading your legs further apart and whistling at the wetness gathered on your folds. "You're soaked baby. Ain't even touched you yet."
You whined and looked away, breath hitching as he teasingly gathered your slick on the tip of his cock. Toji clenched his jaw as he pushed the head in, everything in him resisting from thrusting everything in—knowing how small you were compared to him.
Who knew he'd be fucking the person he was supposed to protect?
"Breathe, baby,"
Nodding, you tried your best to follow his order. But, when he started moving, you completely lost it.
Strings upon strings of moans poured from your mouth, your legs locking around his waist as he found a pace. And even though to you his pace was pleasurable and a bit too much simultaneously, he was holding back.
Toji hadn't fucked such a greedy cunt in years, with the way you were sucking him in, it felt like you wanted to suck him dry. He hit your sweet spot easily with each thrust, groaning as he snaked his hands up your torso and pulled the neckline of your dress down to reveal your tits to him. "Knew they were pretty."
He leaned his head down to suck on your pebbled nipples, driving his girth in and out of you painfully fast now. Switching his attention to your other nub, Toji rolled your previous nipple between his fingers as he suckled on it.
Your back arched up into his touch and gave him more access to your body. "'S too much!"
"You'll take it," he rasped into your ear, hitting the spot that had you seeing stars so effortlessly it felt criminal. Your vision filled with white and blurred, liquid heat rippling through your lower stomach.
You gasped as you hadn't felt such euphoria in years, your job not leaving much time for love affairs, or for any affairs at that.
"I Think 'm close,"
"Ya think, princess?" he chuckled, deep and booming in your ear, his rhythm cruel and harsh on your poor, sensitive pussy.
Toji could feel himself slowly being hurled towards the edge of his high, and he could feel yours too with the way you clamped extra tight down on him. 
"C'mon, baby. Cum on my cock." he ordered, and your body instantly complied with his words. Your back arched further off the sheets, a broken cry bubbling from deep within your chest as you climaxed.
Toji's high came teetering soon after yours, and he made quick work of pulling himself out and letting his seed spurt over your stomach and tits. Your bodies were both messy and sweaty, and he appreciated the sight under him.
You had completely soaked the sheets, and Toji took pride in knowing he was the one who made you.
With a drawn-out sigh, he plopped down beside you.
"You think they'll write news about this too?"
"So you also saw that, huh?"
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days
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Hii sweetie, how are you? Are requests open rn? I'm soooo sorry if they arent and i'm botherig you, but can i make a sugestion please? How would batboys (including bruce if possible) would "react" to missing you while on a mission? And maybe in the end the reenconter? Just an idea❤️
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I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long to write this and I hope that it’s everything you want and more.
Dick; sits and sulks as he stares at his phone.
I’m joking…or am I?
He’d be mentally counting away the hours before he came back home to you once more. He tries to act professional and keep a level head seeing as how leaders aren’t meant to have room for errors, he’s learnt that the hard way many times. But he can’t help but yearn to be in your arms and fall into the deepest sleep ever knowing that you were close by and above all safe.
He would use this as motivation to get through the long, long night of patrol in hopes of making time take pity on him and go just that little bit faster, just for his selfish convenience. He just so desperately wants to see you and Hayley cuddled up together on your shared bed, or watching a movie together if you were still awake this late at night. You held a piece of his heart without even knowing it.
So when he feels the patrol come to an end, he’s gleefully beating the piss out of the goons he’s come across with a smile across his face. It’s borderline terrifying image that will forever remain burnt into the deepest parts of his teammates memory for a good long while.
The minute Dick came home and you so happened to be waiting for him, he was already scooping you into his arms and holding you close to his chest as he buried his head into your neck.
‘I missed you.’ He murmurs.
‘I’m pretty sure that’s my line you’ve just stolen.’ You joked as you ran your hand through his dark hair, relived in seeing him home safe and unharmed.
‘Well it’s my line now because I really did miss you,’ Dick said, tightening his hold on you, ‘you we’re all I thought about tonight and how much I wanted to come home and be where I want to be most, in your arms.’ He adds tired and you couldn’t help but coo softly at him.
‘Aww Dickie bird.’ You began. ‘You sound about ready for some much needed sleep.’
Dick lets out a deep sigh as he practically slumps against you. ‘That sounds like a good idea. Is Hayley in bed?’
‘Yes.’ You answered, rubbing his back soothingly.
‘Her bed or ours?’ Dick asks.
‘Do you even need to ask?’ You reply with a chuckle and from that alone did Dick get his answer.
Jason; he’s a little impatient with having to wait to come back home to you, so much so that it tends to end with him brutalising his adversaries more then usual.
Whoops.
He doesn’t apologise at all.
He was so use to coming home to a empty apartment after patrol that long nights like these never use to bother Jason, as it often meant he had something else to do other then stare up at his ceiling, waiting for sleep to catch up to him. Now that he had you however, all Jason wants to do was come home as soon as possible just to catch a glimpse of your sleeping figure on his -now your- bed.
He’s grown addicted to being at your side no matter what that being apart from you for prolonged periods of time made Jason feel hollow, as though he was missing a vital part of himself somewhere and that vital part was you.
So when he gets home he’s already dropped his helmet off somewhere and kneeling before you as you held his face in your hands and groaning as he presses his face further into your hands.
‘I’ve missed you so much tonight chipmunk.’ He admits.
‘I’ve missed you too jay bird.’ You replied, pressing a kiss to his nose, squealing when he stole a quick peck from your lips as you smacked his bicep shortly after. ‘Someone’s feeling particularly loving tonight.’ You add.
Jason groans as he looks up at you with his pretty, pretty eyes that never fail to take your breath away. The mere image alone of this six foot something man kneeling before you was enough to make you feel like the most powerful being in existence. ‘Is it blasphemy for a man to show his partner how much he’s missed them now?’ He asks and you couldn’t help but laugh as you pressed another kiss to his nose, pulling away enough to see him smile dopily at your kiss.
‘No, but it would be great to be warmed ahead of time before you try to steal another kiss.’ You said and Jason smirks. ‘So you’re telling me there is going to be a next time?’ He says teasingly.
‘Don’t let it go to your head hotshot.’ You reply, grabbing one of his hands and pulling him towards the bedroom.
‘I think I already have sweetheart.’ Jason says with a smile, happy to be home.
Bruce: keeps tabs on you during patrol whilst also remaining vigilant and dedicated to the task at hand.
Bruce was a master at multitasking.
He would always make sure you were safe and decried whenever he got a couple minutes to breathe on his own. He even has a special alert made for you in the instance where you were in danger walking home.
He even finds himself looking at shops you’ve told him about going to, but never doing so due to scheduling conflicts and making a mental note to take you there as a treat to spoil you rotten.
Bruce had more experience in neglecting his own wants and needs for the betterment of Gotham and everyone living in it. So while he may miss you dearly, he knew that his dedication to bettering Gotham’s crime rate one villain, underground drug syndicate, crime lord at a time outweighed that greatly.
So the moment he comes home to you he smiles softly as he allows you to remove the cowl from his head, gently place it down elsewhere, before moving on to wiping the black makeup clean from his eyes.
Bruce knows he could easily done it himself but much rather prefers it if you were the one to do it instead, as it often allows him to have a moment alone with you. No interruptions nor distractions could make him break his gaze away from yours.
‘You’re doing Gotham a whole lot of good Bruce.’ You tell him as you finished wiping off the last of his eye makeup that he puts on under the cowl. ‘ Not many people would be willing to try to keep a dying city alive. Im so proud of you for doing the unthinkable.’ You add as you press a kiss to his cheek.
‘Someone’s got to shoulder the responsibility of this town and I’m more than willing to shoulder that responsibility everyone else who can’t.’ Bruce replies as he takes your hands in his own, kissing the backs of them as his thumbs caressed each of your knuckles. ‘But coming home to you reminds me I’m not alone in this endeavour and I don’t know how to thank you enough for standing by me.’
You smile. ‘You don’t need to thank me at all, just take care of yourself alright? We don’t want the Dark Knight running on fumes now when he’s just getting started.’
Damian: naturally goes by his father’s example and remains focused on the task at hand.
He was trained for long nights like these but you’ve become somewhat of a problem during them.
Damian had often found himself sat on a rooftop somewhere, looking down at two people enjoying the other’s company, and immeditly starts to imagine that it was him and you instead.
He hates how easily his mind drifted towards you during patrol with his father or his other siblings but he just can’t help it but crave for your presence. It makes him feel weak and vulnerable but ironically he doesn’t hate it as much as he probably should’ve. He’s even found himself wanting to count stars with you at one point during patrol until he got him act together to take down a few goons.
He doesn’t admit this to anyone as he’s already felt embarrassed enough that he didn’t needed to be embarrassed even further by the miscreants he’s made to called his family. For he knew they’d never let him live it down for being so caught up on you, they’d called him everything their small minds can come up with for the sake of teasing their younger brother.
So when he comes back to you, he doesn’t say anything other than hugging you uncharacteristically tight against his chest.
‘Someone’s missed me.’ You joked but when Damian didn’t say anything but tighten his grip on you and huff did you change your tune. ‘Oh you did. If it’s any consolation I missed you too.’ You add as you both stayed there in each others arms.
‘Just…hold me will you…please.’ He said softly as he sunk further into your embraced and he closed his eyes, secretly happy to be back home with you.
‘I’m fine with that.’ You replied as you concede to his wishes, just happy to see him home in one piece.
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gremlingottoosilly · 14 hours
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Bimbo!Reader who starts to fake date Loser König just to get the weirder men off her back, besides he's big, intimidating and strong too, he'll probably scare off anyone
Using Konig as your scary dog privilege was easy. He lives off scraps of your affection, never quite caring enough that you wouldn't give him the time of day if he wasn't so damn scary. He is a good boy, a polite and obedient boy - always coming if he is in town and you're bored, always bringing you something nice. He is tall and buff, has a body that looks pretty damn nice in compression shirts and loose pants. You pat his muscles and press little kisses to his biceps whenever you two are going to the gym together - you wanted him to scare away the creeps who stare at your ass whenever you do squats, and he just wanted to spend time with you doing something he likes. Hanging out with him is kinda nice - he would pay for your gym membership and only ask for occasional selfies if you're coming while he is on deployment, and he always has some advice if you want to improve your form, He is getting very flustered whenever you bend over in front of him, but at least you know he is harmless. Sick and obsessive kind of harmless, but your empty head doesn't really see the difference. You don't even notice the way he possessively wraps his hand around your waist whenever there is another guy around or how your panties and sports bras keep getting lost. Your head is too damn empty for your own good. You laugh when he asks if you want to sleep with him - you allow him to root into your thighs as you watch tiktoks or reels and then ask him if you should paint your nails pink or purple. He is too busy trying to git his cock between your soft thighs without cumming first few seconds. You hug him when he gives you thighs, and you're just dumb enough not to notice an obvious erection poking at your thigh. He is harmless, like a big dog that just learned how to bite everyone besides you - and you appreciate every second of having him around. You say that he is your boyfriend whenever your friends talk to you, and everyone is surprised - but you'd always act just a little bit mad that no one believes you...hey, he is literally your soulmate for real!! Konig dies a little every time you call him that, even as you laugh at the possibility of actually seriously dating the guy. But don't worry, he already bought the rings.
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hecateslore · 3 days
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Omgomgomg sex w Simon but like on the beach. It can be private or whatever idc but AHHHH I just recently rewatched the Wicked Game music video for funsies and now I can't get the idea of that w one of the cod men out of my head
MDNI olderbf!Simon and reader on their honey moon in Greece, thank yeeewwwww!
"Simon stand in front of me." You snatched his arm and pulled him before you, "My top..." you started but immediately got distracted by tying the string together.
"Does it not fit?" Simon asked with his eyes on the bright green bikini top, "Well I didn't think I was more endowed now, than last summer." You mumble pulling the fabric over your exposed skin.
"I'm not complaining." Simon shrugged, still standing in front of you. "I know you're not." You rolled your eyes, then tapped his shoulder signaling that you were done. You both walked down the steps to the beach, trying to find a spot away from the masses, but still in good shot of the sun.
"Oh my god this top," You huffed in frustration, pulling it down more so your under-boob wouldn't slip out and accidentally flash strangers. "Just take it off," Simon said laying next to you, his hair damp from swimming a couple of minutes ago, "it'll make the tanning process quicker." And with that sentence he grabbed the string and pulled it making your top come flying off, "Simon!" You screeched, hands immediately flying to your chest. You flipped on your stomach and Simon chuckled watching you bury your face into your crossed arms.
"There's nude people over there." Simon tapped your butt, signaling to the group of old people flaunting their nudity. "They do that here," Simon laughed, You looked over at them and snapped your head back when you saw the older gentlemen reach over for his sunscreen, "I'm going to the house," You mumbled, grabbing the towel and clutching it to your chest.
Simon stayed down at the beach for about an hour, swimming, watching the waves and eventually the sun went down, so he went back to beach house where you were laying in the bed.
"Here!" you heard Simon yell from the front door. "In the room," You yelled back.
"You're all red," You chuckled watching the 6 foot plus man walk through the door, "a bit." He smiled at you, "Come lay down." You pat the bed. Simon gets on and lays by your side, "We should go back out," Simon said with closed eyes while you ran your fingers through his hair, "Back out where?" You eyed his bright red shoulders, "To the water." He mumbled, face smushed against your pillow. "I Don't have a suit," You frown. "You don't need one."
"Oh my god," you hesitated, nothing under your bathing suit cover, "No one's out," Simon motioned to the very empty beach, "We're fine."
"I don't want to go to jail," You whined "You won't." Simon laughed. He took his shirt off then his pants, his toned body on display. "Your turn," Simon smirked, "Yeah, Yeah." You waved him off, Lifting the bottom of your cover, Goosebumps on your skin as the see through fabric rode higher and higher up your body.
Once it was finally off, you stood their with your arms over your chest, hiding yourself. Simon already booking it to the ocean, his long legs making loud splashing noises as he went further into the water. Diving into the water, he comes back up and yells for you to come in.
"The waters nice, Hurry it up." He hollered. You walked to the shore calmly, arms still covering you. You hiss at the feeling of the water on your feet, "Stop whining," Simon said from out in the distance, You went further in, still on the shallow end, "Come get me," You yelled to him, You could see Simon roll his eyes in the distance.
When he finally gets to you, you're at waist level, standing and waiting for him to come retrieve you. "See that's not so bad," Simon grabbed your waist pulling you into the water with him, "It's not so great either," You sink into the water and come back up. You wrap your arms around his neck then your legs, clinging on to him as he swims farther in, "Still not great?" Simon kept you to afloat, "It's eh." you shrugged. You two were quiet, the sound of water sloshing as he kicked his feet and moved his arms back and forth, "We should go back to the shallow end." You said quietly, Simon nodded. You let go of him, swimming back to where you could feel the seas floor.
Simon watched as you floated, your arms and legs spread as you felt weightless. You closed your eyes and listened to the water filling your ears. "You'll get an ear infection that way," Simon noted, you lifted your head and let the rest of your body sink, "what?" You said as your wiped water from your face, "You'll get water in your ear." He swam over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist again, his legs bent as you stood between them, combing his wet hair back. "Let's get out," You kiss his cheek. Simon follows you as you walk out of the water, goosebumps on your skin from the nights air.
You laid on your towel, looking at stars, your cover on. Simon laid next to you, playing with the strings of his swim trunks. His shirt still off, his skin on display,You thirst over him silently while he lays looking off into the sky. “Simon,” You nudge him, he hummed in response. You sit up, getting a better look at his pants that sit a couple of centimeters below his v-line. Your mind wanders back to your wedding night and the first night you landed here.
Memories of love and want flood your mind as you gaze at Simon. You place a hand on his thigh, rubbing it softly, feeling the muscles beneath his skin tense slightly under your touch. Simon turns his head towards you, he looks down at your hand, and moves it higher up his thigh, his eyes meeting yours. “I missed you,” You say softly, a teasing smile on your face while your finger traces the band of his swim trunks. “I was with you all day.” He plays into your games, his cock hardening under the damp fabric.
With a mischievous grin, you crawl on top of him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. "It's been too long," you mumble against his lips, “It’s only been one day.” He rubs your sides while you sit on his bulge, your bare cunt on his trunks while you kiss the side of his face.
Simon smiles as he continues to rub your sides softly, Your hips begin grinding, the buttons kissing your clit every time you moved back and forth. Simon's eyes locked onto (lock in) yours, He felt the heat of your wetness seeping through the thin fabric of his swim trunks.
"Take this off," He pulled at the bathing suit cover, You nod frantically, discarding the piece of fabric onto the sandy ground. You squeeze your tits while Simons hands feel your thighs. He taps your ass signaling for you to lift up a bit, then pulls his trunks down and his cock springs out towards you glistening with pre-cum. You bite your lip hungrily, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his shaft. You pump him teasingly slow, making soft groans slip past his lips. You run your hands up his abdomen- feeling his hard abs while you stroke his cock, Simon bucks his hips trying for more friction.
You take your hand off, and reach down and run your finger over your slit, feeling your arousal. You rub your clit, lustful moans are all thats heard while Simon watches you pleasuring yourself. Your hips begin to move faster, your moans growing louder, matching the rhythm of your fingers on your clit. “Oh fuck,” You moan, Simon grabs your wrist, “don’t,” He breathes.Simon sits up, pulling you with him, and you straddle his lap. With a wicked grin, he takes your hand and guides it back to his cock, standing hard and proud between your legs.
You sink onto him, Your pussy gushes at the feeling of him inside of you.Simon groans deeply, “You’re so nasty,” He says breathlessly.Simon's hands slide up your body, teasing your nipples, and then back down to your hips, You rock back and forth on him, Your clit rubs against his pubic bone, the friction sending shivers down your spine.
“Fuck me Simon,” You whine at him, grinding on him harder and needier than ever. His hands gripped your ass tightly, pulling you closer, his cock thrusting up desperately. "Yes, fuck me Simon," You moaned, His lips met yours in a kiss, his tongue tangling with yours making it all too sweeter.
A low, guttural moan escapes your lips, and you arch your back, lifting yourself up and down on his cock, grunts leave his throat while he fucks up into you. Your moans and whimpers grew louder, "I can’t even be alone for a day,”
He thrust deeper, hitting a spot inside you that made you gasp and moan even louder, “All you want me to do is fuck you,” he growls, slowing his thrust down, grinding his thick cock inside of you. You cling to him, your lips parted. He flips you onto your back, spreading your legs wide, and with one hand, he guides himself inside of you once more.
His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer to him with each deep thrust, you squeeze around him as you feel your orgasm building .You can feel every inch of him, every pulsing vein as he thrusts into you. “Right there baby,” You say through labored breaths, “Oh fuck Simon, right there,” You whine.
His hands grip your hips tightly, pulling you closer to him, his cock sliding in and out of you, your pussy contracting around him with each throbbing pulse.the pleasure building and building until it becomes almost unbearable.
"More, fuck me harder," you beg, writhing underneath him, your body arching to meet his every thrust. Simon hums in pleasure, Your breath catches in your throat as you feel the climax begin to take hold. Your hips buck wildly, your pussy clenching around his cock," Fuck, yes," Simon growls, his eyes locked onto yours as he watches your face contort in pleasure.
You grab onto Simon's shoulders, your nails digging into his skin, urging him on. "Don't stop, don't fucking stop," you plead, Your pussy gushes again, sopping his cock with your orgasm. Simon pounds into you, his cock gliding in and out of you, “I’m gonna cum,” he says, grinding into your pussy. “Yes, cum inside me,” you beg, your eyes never leaving his. Your cunt still sensitive from your orgasm,
"Fuck, yes," he groans, his forehead resting on your shoulder,You wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper inside of you as he thrusts into you faster and harder.
Simon's muscles tense and his breath hitches, you can see the pleasure wash over. His hips stutter as he plunges into you a few more times, “Oh my god,” You sigh, savoring the sensation of his cum filling your pussy.
He collapses on top of you, his body still trembling from the intensity of the orgasm. You kiss his neck, your hands running through his hair, feeling his breath on your skin. "You okay?" You ask quietly, playing with his ear, "I'm fine," He says out of breath, "We might want to go back to the house," You suggested, "Yeah.." He agrees. "Maybe we can finish this in the shower." You smirk. "Jesus christ."
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buckttommy · 2 days
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well yes i have Big Feelings about tommy treating buck gently because i am an enjoyer of the fine arts, but i have Even Bigger Feelings about buck treating tommy gently because he deserves it too :( like. buck carding his fingers through tommy's hair after he's had a long, bad day and kissing his neck (non-sexy) and just like clinging to him like a wet paper towel until he feels better.... buck showing up to tommy's job with a bouquet of flowers because tommy mentioned once that he's never received them before and buck wanted to make him smile and feel adored..... buck cooking his boyfriend breakfast in bed.... actually i have this headcanon that tommy doesn't really like his birthday and he doesn't really like celebrating it because he's never really had anyone to celebrate with... but one day buck finds his birth certificate when they move in together and discovers he's an august 31st baby.... so on that day, he bakes tommy a dozen cupcakes and writes "i ❤️ u" in icing on three of them and the rest are decorated with little plastic helicopters and tommy cries Immediately (so does buck btw) and he kisses him and they share cupcakes and spend the entire evening on the sofa watching tv and kissing :( ......... yeah. anyways. no thoughts head empty just buck spoiling his pretty boyfriend rotten 🙂‍↕️
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roosterforme · 1 day
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Covering the Classics Part 7 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Just when Anna starts to feel settled, a simple cookout at her friend's house turns everything upside down. Her jealousy shines through, and there's nothing she can do to try to take it back.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, masturbation, eventually 18+
Length: 4800 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!
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Things with Bob felt like they shifted back to normal again, and Anna was thankful for that. Every book she let him borrow was returned with a note folded up inside. Some of them were short and simple. When he handed back Love Letters of Great Men, the note simply said The dog eared pages are going to make me cry. But some of them were longer and more elaborate.
She was running a little late to meet him at the usual coffee shop, worried he would already be there. He seemed to end up paying for her drink every single time, which was honestly really sweet of him, but she felt like such a nuisance. When she walked inside, he was there, at a table with two steaming mugs in front of him and his nose buried in a book. In one of Anna's books. In her copy of Wuthering Heights.
Her whole body felt too warm as she thought about how much she would love to have Bob read every single one of the hundreds of books she owned. Maybe even read some parts out loud in that deep, soothing voice. She would love to hear his take on each plot and watch him blush as he called her the expert and asked for her opinions. She would love to take the book from his hands and pull him down into bed with her.
But she couldn't do that. They were just friends. So instead, she dropped down into the empty seat across from him and said, "Hi, Bob," with a smile she hoped wasn't as sad as she felt.
"Anna." Her name sounded like golden perfection when he said it, and she shivered. "This book... I can't stop reading it. I read it twice already," he said with a little laugh. "How in the world do you always know exactly what I'm going to like?"
Because she felt undeniably drawn to him and his preferences and everything about him.
"Because I'm a professional."
He laughed a little more as his pretty lake-blue eyes followed her cup as she brought it up to her lips. When the ceramic touched her, he looked away as his cheeks grew pink. He pushed the book across the table, and when she reached for it, he said, "Uh, just read that note later, okay?"
When she saw the edge of white paper sticking out from the worn pages, she said, "Sure, Bob."
He cleared his throat a little awkwardly. "Did you hear about the change of venue for tomorrow?"
Anna ducked her head. "Yeah, the girls told me about it at lunch yesterday. A cookout? Bradley wants to show off his new grill?"
Bob nodded and said, "Could be a nice change from the Hard Deck for once."
While he wasn't wrong, Anna hated that she still barely had enough money to make ends meet. San Diego was expensive, and when she asked Advanced Calculus what she could bring with her to their house to contribute to the meal, her friend said to bring hot dog and hamburger buns. Anna was already trying to figure out how to scrape together the ten dollars that would be required when Jessica said she already bought some along with chips and pretzels. When she didn't quite meet Anna's eyes, she knew for a fact that Jessica had figured her out.
"Yeah. I suppose," Anna told Bob. But at least at the Hard Deck, Penny didn't usually even charge her for the three dollar ginger ales. And if she did, one of the guys just put it on their tab like it was nothing. When she showed up empty handed to the cookout, she was going to feel awful that Jessica had covered for her. 
"You want another coffee?" Bob asked, standing with his own mug, but Anna shook her head. She couldn't let him pay for another thing. Perhaps deleting multi millionaire Dev Borah's phone number wasn't her best move. Not that she would ever take advantage of someone for their money. Not after what Kevin did to her.
"No. But thank you. I actually can't stay very long today."
Bob nodded before saying, "No worries. I have dinner plans with Suzanne before Mickey picks me up for D&D anyway."
And there it was once again. The reminder that Bob didn't think about that kiss nearly as much as she did. "I hope you have a great time."
------------------------
It was late on Saturday night, and he should have been in bed, but Bob had his computer out. He reasoned that he could sleep in as late as he wanted tomorrow before heading to pick up the burgers Bradley asked him to bring for the cookout. He could stay up as long as it took for him to finish this poem and finally post it on PoetsAmongUs after looking at it for weeks.
If anyone knew he was writing about Anna, he would probably die on the spot. But nobody in his life knew he wrote anything in his free time, let alone the fact that he wrote poetry. And this poem was getting close to needing a 'mature' label if he was going to post it online.
"What are you doing?" he asked himself softly. Somehow he believed that writing about her specifically would cleanse him of these thoughts, but now he knew he was wrong. He proofread and posted his poem anyway while his skin prickled with need. He'd never experienced the kind of love his friends had, and in spite of all of her hesitations, he could imagine it happening with Anna. If anything, he liked that she seemed cautious and contemplative, he just wished she wasn't still that way toward him. 
She made him want to keep leaving her notes in the books he borrowed from her, but she also made him feel like an idiot for wanting to do that. It was maddening. He needed to sleep, but he was too warm, imagining Anna once again in place of his faceless lover while he touched himself. He almost couldn't wait until the day when someone else would take her place in his mind, even if it meant settling.
The next day, he drove his old pickup toward the coast with the burgers and a six pack of ginger ale in tow. The Spanish revival style house that Bradley purchased before he and his wife made things official again was cute with desert landscaping, but she was the one who really made it a home. There was art hanging on the walls in every room, including a panoramic watercolor of the scenery of Virginia. The front bedroom had been turned into her home office, and for some reason, she had Bradley's fraternity paddle hanging in there. The house seemed more lived in now, and Bob knew Bradley was much happier for it.
"Hey, thanks man," Bradley told him, taking the bag of burgers when he got there. He was wearing his hideous Grateful Dead shirt and holding two cans of beer on one hand, but he still managed to give Bob a quick hug. "Sugar's out back, setting up some snacks and just generally looking hot. You want a beer?"
Bob held up the ginger ales in response and said, "Thanks, but I'll just have one of these for now." The last thing he wanted was a hangover like he had after their New Year's Eve party.
"Hi!" Jessica said as she and Jake walked inside, and she made a beeline right for Bob. "Have you given any more thought to how I should paint my barbarian?"
He just smiled as she started to push him through the kitchen toward the back door. "We just played yesterday. I didn't know you'd still be in the mood to talk about your ridiculous D&D character."
"Please," she practically whined. "You know how sensitive my barbarian is."
Bob snorted; truly he never would have expected he and she would have had so much in common, but even Jessica couldn't keep his attention once he saw who Bradley's wife was talking to. Anna had some freckles on her thighs. Her cutoff denim shorts went high enough up her legs that he was treated to the sight of freckles everywhere. And that wasn't all. Not even close. The deep "V" of her shirt revealed that there was a pretty good chance the freckles even trailed down inside her bra.
He wasn't going to survive the cookout if he had to look at her all afternoon. Her red hair was clipped up on top of her head with some sort of claw-shaped thing, and her skin was just everywhere. Her neck and her legs and the swell of her breasts. Her fingernails were burgundy again, just like the first day he saw her. She hadn't even noticed him yet, which was terrible, because if she had, he would have looked away by now. Instead he was given ample opportunity to memorize the way her legs looked as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, shuffling her beat up sneakers a bit along the patio.
"Oh," Jessica whispered, squeezing his bicep gently when he stopped responding to her. "Yeah, that'll do it." Her tone sounded slightly sympathetic, and it made Bob so self conscious. "Let's go say hi."
He shook his head jerkily and muttered, "In a second." Anna was currently laughing, head thrown back in delight, and Bob got the briefest peek at the strip of skin above her shorts and her bellybutton, and his brain actually stopped functioning. When she tipped her head forward again, an overjoyed smile still on her lips, she met his gaze. His brain jump started again as her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and he took a step in her direction before he could reconsider.
"Hey, Bob." She sounded a little breathless as she said his name while Bradley's wife smirked at the two of them. But he and Anna were just friends, and he needed to remember that.
"Anna," he replied softly, slipping his hands into his jeans pockets. His palms were sweaty, and he knew he was blushing. He'd never make it out of here alive. Not when she was looking at him like that. 
She smiled and said, "I came up with a few, slightly more obscure book recommendations for you. I was thinking maybe we could go back to the bookstore and look for some of them that I don't currently own? I might be fun to-"
Bob was already about to agree with whatever she said, because it sounded exactly perfect to him, then he heard someone screeching his name.
"Bob!" There was a brunette flash streaking across the small backyard, and then Natasha Trace was in his arms. She was giggling next to his ear where she kissed his cheek three times in a row, knocking his glasses askew.
"I didn't know you were coming home today," he said in surprise.
"I didn't tell anyone except Bradley. Did I surprise you?" she asked.
"That's an understatement, Nat," he replied, hugging her tighter when she refused to let go. "I missed you."
Her familiar laughter was comforting as she said, "You have no idea how much I hate flying with anyone other than you." When she finally started to pull away from him, she added, "Now we can pick up where we left off before my deployment."
-----------------------------
Anna couldn't believe how incredible her friend's house was. It was huge and beautiful, and she had a yard. A yard! In California! There was colorful art on the walls, which appeared to be a collection of things that she and Bradley enjoyed. Her office was something Anna could only dream about, and the kitchen was bigger than her whole apartment.
After a tour of the interior, she stood on the patio in the autumn sunlight in a pair of shorts, something she would have never been able to do in New Jersey. Every day seemed to get better than the last, assuming she could keep the intrusive thoughts about Kevin away. And also assuming she could figure out what she was supposed to do about Bob and the growing collection of feelings she seemed to have for him.
"You have to hear what happened in my Differential Equations lecture on Friday afternoon," her friend was saying as they stood near the new grill that would soon be the centerpiece of the afternoon. "You won't even believe it."
Anna listened for a minute to the wild story, bursting into laughter when she learned how her friend thought she was going to have to call the fire department while she was teaching. Then she saw him. Bob was here with his tidy hair and his adorable glasses and his big hands, and like always her brain filled up with the beautiful poetry she loved so much. Somehow it seemed to go together with him. Those stunning words matched the way he made her feel.
She had to bite her lip in an attempt to calm herself down. "Hey, Bob," she managed to say as his cheeks flushed pink.
"Anna."
Oh, she was a mess. She thought about him way too frequently, even taking the time to compile the titles of some books she had read and loved, convincing herself he might like some of them too. "I came up with a few, slightly more obscure book recommendations for you. I was thinking maybe we could go back to the bookstore and look for some of them that I don't currently own? I might be fun to-"
But she stopped mid sentence when she heard some excited chatter behind Bob, and then a woman came running out through the back door. A beautiful woman. Calling his name. Jumping into his arms. Anna was treated to the sight of the woman's lips brushing against Bob's cheek while he held onto her like he was just reunited with the only person he ever cared about. She had to watch as this other woman ran her fingers gently along his skin in exactly the way Anna fantasized about. And when she looked around, nobody seemed concerned by this turn of events, rather they all acted like it was perfectly normal that Bob and this woman were whispering intimately to each other.
Then Anna heard her say, "Now we can pick up where we left off before my deployment."
Oh. Well. There was a sour taste in her mouth as she took a step backwards as the rest of the group greeted this mystery woman. Anna was going to have to have words with Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics after this. Maybe they tried to set her up with Bob, because they didn't like this other woman? That idea vaporized as soon as she saw Jessica embrace her with a bright smile on her face.
Anna felt like her chest was growing tighter by the second, and then Jessica started to pull the pretty brunette toward her. "You have to come meet the newest faculty member from the English department! Dr. Anna Webber."
The woman looked her up and down with dark, appraising eyes and a little smirk set firmly on her lips. Then she stuck out her right hand and said, "I'm Natasha Trace."
The last thing Anna wanted to do right now was shake hands, but Jessica was looking at her with concern, probably wondering why she was just standing there. "It's a pleasure," Anna said with as much conviction as she could muster, shaking hands as briefly as she could.
"You teach at San Diego State too?" Natasha asked as her smirk bloomed into a bigger smile. When Anna nodded, she laughed and added, "What the hell do they put in the water at that school?"
Jessica was beaming now as she said, "Anna gives book recommendations to Bob all the time."
"Really? Is that so?" Natasha asked, still eyeing Anna like a predator would their prey, when Bob appeared with two cans of ginger ale. He gave one to Natasha and then tried to hand the other one to Anna as Natasha said, "I actually read a phenomenal book last month, Bob. I'll write down the title for you."
He kind of smiled, still holding out the other can toward Anna who felt like she was on the verge of screaming. "No. Thank you," she told him, taking a few steps away as she clocked the hurt expression on his face. "I don't want any."
The uncomfortable feeling was overtaking Anna's whole body now when Natasha leaned a little closer to Bob and softly muttered, "Let me guess... you have a little crush? This happened in my absence?"
Anna turned and went inside, searching for the bathroom she'd seen on the house tour. That woman was mocking her. Anna didn't want to hear any more of that conversation, because it was making her skin crawl. And worse still, she was finally able to identify this feeling as she closed and locked the door and leaned on the sink vanity.
Jealousy. 
She was more jealous of this petite brunette who seemed to think Bob's personal space was hers for the taking than she ever was about Kevin and Alyssa. She was beside herself at the idea of another woman giving Bob book recommendations and making fun of his stupid little crush on her.
This was exactly why she should have never let herself have feelings. When she looked in the mirror, she saw tears in her eyes. "Shit," she whispered. She didn't have a car, so she couldn't just discreetly leave. Plus she'd been looking forward to eating something other than one of her sad sandwiches for days.
The jealousy gave way to anger as she wiped her eyes with a tissue and dropped it in the trash can. Her new friends invited her here, and she was going to stay. She wasn't going to let her feelings for Bob Floyd dictate her mood or what she felt she was allowed to do. She wasn't going to let another man run her life like that ever again.
With her head held high, she walked back outside, making it a point to avoid Bob and Natasha at all costs. She willingly had a thirty minute conversation with Jake and Mickey about the Marvel Cinematic Universe as an excuse to keep her distance. Then she and Bradley discussed the extensive musical catalogue of the Grateful Dead while she slowly sipped a beer to try to take the edge off. Then he turned on the grill, and the smell of food cooking had her excited enough that it was becoming easier and easier to ignore Bob.
When she accidentally looked his way, he was already eyeing her with a confused expression. She could pretend all day long that she didn't care what he thought and that she wasn't jealous at all. She could be so stubborn about this. At least all they had between them was that one awkward, fumbled kiss in his truck. It wasn't like she'd slept with him before he ditched her for the much better looking Natasha.
She was still doing a fine job of ignoring both of them when Bradley announced that dinner was ready. Anna took a plate of food and scooted all the way to the end of the rectangular patio table, snagging the spot across from Jessica. She was willing to talk about anything right now, even her friend's physics curriculum that she could barely comprehend, but then Bob was right next to her.
"Mind if I sit here?" he asked cautiously, setting his plate next to hers. Anna just shrugged, and then she was enveloped in his clean scent as he eased himself down in the seat with his knee hitting her thigh. She quickly crossed her legs before scooting her chair a few inches to the side away from his. "Are you okay?"
Anna almost laughed as Natasha found a spot on the other side of the table. "I'm just fine," she said before taking a huge bite of her burger and avoiding looking at either of them.
"Right," Bob whispered, frowning down toward his plate as she gave him side eye. "I just... feel like I did something to upset you."
Anna shook her head, and when she was done chewing the delicious food, she said, "Not at all. You're free to make the decisions you want to make. And I'm free to keep my books to myself since you've got other ones now."
Bob looked at her and asked, "What's that supposed to mean?" 
But Anna was well on her way to starting a conversation with Jessica that could probably last for hours. She ignored him as she asked, "Hey, Jess, what's up with that physics professor who just started wearing a toupee?"
"Dr. Leeland!" she screeched before launching into an animated conversation on the topic of her colleague's hair piece just as expected.
------------------------
Bob was so confused. He had been about to jump at the chance to hang out at the bookstore in North Park with Anna when Natasha arrived. At that point, he honestly thought this was going to be the best day he'd had in a while. Anna seemed happy to see him, and one of his best friends was finally home from deployment. But as soon as that thought entered his mind, Anna started acting like she wanted nothing to do with him. So much so that she asked Jess about some guy's fake hair? Bob sat there and listened to the conversation while he ate, trying to interject, but Anna just wasn't having it. She had even rejected his ginger ale.
What the hell did he do wrong? All he wanted to do was talk to her about books and look at her freckles. She was sitting right next to him, but he may as well have been on Jupiter with the way she seemed convinced that he wasn't even there at all.
As everyone started to finish eating, Bob washed his food down with the rest of his ginger ale. Maybe he should just head home early. He'd be spending all week at work with Nat, so it wasn't like he was going to miss out on much there. And being around Anna when she wasn't even looking at him made him feel like an idiot for secretly writing poems about her. He sat at the table alone for an extra minute with his head cradled in his hands, then he took his trash inside the house.
Of course Anna was the only other person in the kitchen, helpfully washing the grilling utensils and other things Bradley left in the sink. She glanced his way briefly before continuing with her task, and Bob headed for the trash can. He had the perfect view of the freckles on the backs of her thighs, but he didn't feel like he should be looking now. He stood quietly for a few seconds before deciding that he'd give this one last try before heading out.
"Anna," he said just loud enough that he knew she could hear him over the running water. "Can we talk? I just feel like I did something to upset you? When you started to invite me to the bookstore, I was going to say yes. Obviously I'd love to go with-"
She looked at him over her shoulder, and he went silent at her glare. "Why don't you just go with Natasha instead?"
His brow furrowed in confusion. "That's not the kind of thing she and I usually do together."
"Oh?" she asked, her voice dripping with something that made Bob's skin tingle with goosebumps. "Does she usually recommend books while you're out to dinner? Or do you take her to see her favorite movies?" 
She turned off the water and faced him without bothering to dry her hands. His lips parted as he watched the furious looking blush that crept along her chest, up her neck, and to her cheeks. 
"I don't really do those things with her either," he said slowly, trying to puzzle his way through this. She sounded almost jealous of Nat, but that couldn't be. That didn't make any sense at all. Anna made it clear she didn't want to be with him.
"Well, you're free to do whatever you want, Bob," she said with a shrug, chin held high. "This is why we're just friends. You've already got plenty of women to choose from, like Suzanne and Natasha, and I'm not about to get caught up in another attractive man who seems too good to be true."
She started to duck past him, but Bob blocked her path. "Whoa, whoa! No, you've got it all wrong." She doubled back the other way, but he stepped to the side until she bumped into him. "Suzanne is my elderly neighbor. And Natasha and I are friends," he said quickly, and he was rewarded with Anna's brown eyes snapping up to meet his. "I've known her for years. She's the pilot I usually fly with."
Anna took one stumbling step backwards toward the sink. Her teeth sank into her lip like earlier before she whispered, "Oh." She swallowed hard, drawing Bob's gaze back to the freckles on her neck as her blush grew deeper. "So you're not... into her?"
His voice sounded deep even to his own ears as he promised, "Not even slightly. Not like I'm into you."
The kitchen went so silent that Bob could hear laughter filtering from the patio through the open door, and Anna's expression softened as she took a tiny step forward. Then another one. Then one more before she was launching herself into his arms. Bob could feel her damp hands in his hair as their lips met, and it was nothing like the way they kissed in his truck. She wasn't tentative, and he didn't pull away as she kissed him harder. This time her body was pressed to his, and she moaned softly when he let his hands settle on her hips.
Anna coaxed him impossibly closer with her fingers in his hair and on the back of his neck, and soon he had her pinned against the edge of the counter. He could feel denim rubbing against denim as she parted her lips and wiggled slowly against him. When Bob swiped his tongue along her bottom lip, Anna let him taste her before her lips drifted along to his neck.
"Fuck," he grunted, squeezing her hips in his hands as his index finger met the soft skin of her lower back. She was sucking gently on the spot just to the left of his Adam's apple, and there was no way she couldn't feel how hard he was getting for her right now.
Those burgundy fingernails were scraping gently along his scalp as he rolled his hips one time against her body. When Anna licked his neck, he forced himself to ask the question that was fluttering around the peripheral of his aroused brain. "Are you going to tell me this is another mistake? Like that night in my truck?"
Anna pulled her lips away from his pulse point long enough to whisper, "It wasn't even a mistake last time. I just couldn't help myself."
Then Bob kissed her lips until she was clinging to him with her back arched against the counter and her hips held tightly in his hands. When he could tell someone was coming inside, he pulled himself away, panting as she tried to chase him for more. He could see the questioning look on her face as he stepped aside just before Mickey and Jake walked inside, arguing about who ate the last hot dog.
Anna turned back toward the sink as she blushed, and Bob was aching to kiss her again. Dying to confirm that she wasn't going to write him off again. He cleared his throat and asked, "Will you let me drive you home later?"
Bob heard her soft laugh and whispered, "Yes." Then with a smile, he took the last can of ginger ale from the refrigerator and set it on the counter next to her. She looked up at him, eyes filled with need as he excused himself back out to the patio where he started to count down the minutes until he could suggest it was late enough to leave.
---------------------------
Anna, you are living the dream, baby! Let him love you the way he wants to! And once again, in Natasha we trust. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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spacechalk · 2 days
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Glass
            After it was all over, Aziraphale sat on the edge of a bluff and let his feet hang over the side. Rivers and farmland stretched before him. In the distance he spotted a church crouched behind a copse of trees. His heel knocked loose a pebble. He watched it tumble into empty space and wondered what it would feel like to follow.
            Behind him he heard the gentle rumble of an engine. The sound of a door slamming shut was muted, as was the crunch of boots on gravel as someone approached. He didn’t look around.
            A wine bottle was thrust before his eyes. Automatically, he noted the vintage. He must have gone to some effort for this.
            “Drink?”
            Aziraphale nodded.
            Crowley dropped beside him, sending another cascade of pebbles down the cliff. He produced two wine glasses and handed one to the angel.
            Once the wine had generously been decanted, Crowley knocked his glass against Aziraphale’s with a bright ring that vibrated through his fingers.
            “I believe congratulations are in order,” he said, taking a swig.
            “Hmm,” Aziraphale murmured. He peered into his glass. He could see his reflection along the outer rim.
            Crowley cleared his throat. “They underestimated you.” He hesitated, then made an aborted gesture with one hand. “I underestimated you.”
            Aziraphale took a long pull from his glass.
            Crowley planted his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, trying to catch Aziraphale’s eye. When the angel didn’t look up, he turned away, face etched with resignation. He kicked a heel against the cliff and watched dirt shower down.
            Aziraphale took this opportunity to eye the demon’s profile.
            “How does it work?” he asked.
            Crowley looked over his shoulder. “How does what work?”
            “No Heaven. No Hell.” The icy hand that had been stalking him the last few months seized his heart. “How do you know good from evil?” A dark void threatened to open up beneath his feet. If he put one foot wrong he would fall in and keep falling, forever. He struggled to breathe. “What if you can’t? What if there…isn’t? At all?”
            Suddenly there was a hand on his arm. He could hear his breath harsh in his ears as he looked at it. He looked up into Crowley’s yellow eyes.
            “It’s okay angel. Breathe.”
            Aziraphale could feel tears gathering in his eyes. “The sheer – arrogance,” he murmured, “to think that I – ”
            “Arrogant?” A strangled laugh struggled in the demon’s throat. “Aziraphale – you are the only person I met in all of Hell or Heaven who cared – at all – to even try to figure out what was right and wrong,” he said intently, every line of him leaning forward, eyes wide, trying to make him understand. “The arrogance to try? What about the arrogance of thinking you don’t have to?” His breath pulled rapidly in and out of his chest.
            The tears Aziraphale had been fighting spilled over.
            “I’m not sure this is going to be comforting but – I don’t think anyone knows for sure, certainly not me,” Crowley said. His grip on Aziraphale’s arm tightened. “I’m not sure that what the Almighty imparted in the garden was knowledge of good and evil so much that it was knowledge that everything is complicated and all of it matters so much. It deserves your conscience and your doubt. It deserves your best effort.”
            He tilted his head, tried to catch Aziraphale’s eyes. “I am not worried about you at all,” he said, lips quirking in an attempt at a smile. “You, who gave your sword away at the very Beginning. You’ve always had a heart for these things.”
            Aziraphale raised a hand to wipe his eyes and Crowley let go, turning to look out over the landscape below. Aziraphale immediately missed his grip; but he was still close, shoulders brushing together.
            “’Sides,” Crowley said, aiming for nonchalance and falling staggeringly short, “I’ll still be here. It’s easier together, I think.”
             Crowley looked out at the fields and Aziraphale looked at Crowley. He was swamped by the urge to put his head on Crowley’s shoulder and only just managed to resist it.
            Aziraphale looked into his glass. “About what you said – in the bookshop –” he began.
            Crowley flung up a hand to head him off. He drained the rest of his glass in one go. “We don’t need to talk about that,” he rasped.
            Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Don’t we?”
            Crowley shook his head emphatically. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I said anything. Or…” He hesitated, his eyes dropping to Aziraphale’s lips before careening away. “…did, anything. You don’t need to say…what you’re going to say. I promise I won’t do it again.” He sloppily crossed his heart and pushed himself to his feet.
            Aziraphale listened to his footsteps crunching back toward the Bentley. A kind of calm anger poured in and began filling up his chest. His face set like stone. “That’s a shame,” he said out loud.
            The footsteps paused. “What was that?”
            “I said – ” Aziraphale pushed himself to his feet and turned around. Crowley stood halfway to the car, bottle and glass in one hand, keys in the other.
            “I said,” he said, “it’s a shame that you will never again tell me that you love me; will never kiss me again.” He twisted his hands together, fingernails biting into skin. “I was rather hoping you would.”
            Crowley stared at him.
            Aziraphale moved forward until they were only inches apart. He held Crowley’s eyes.
            Crowley hesitated for a long moment, searching his face. Finally he swayed forward, almost helplessly, head tilted, and pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s.
            Aziraphale inhaled sharply and leaned into the kiss. He brought one hand around to grip Crowley’s shoulder, and used the other to cup Crowley’s face. A tremor ran down Crowley’s body. Aziraphale brushed his thumb along Crowley’s jawline and deepened the kiss. That icy hand retreated and Aziraphale dared to hope he would learn how to keep it at bay. He felt like he had stepped outside in winter and found a patch of sun.
            He pulled back and smiled to himself at the dazed expression on Crowley’s face. “Do you want to get rid of…” he indicated the bottle and glass still in Crowley’s hand.
            Crowley slowly dragged his eyes away and looked at the offending objects. “Hm? Oh, right.” Unceremoniously, he tossed them away, stuffing the keys back into his pocket as he did so. His arms encircled Aziraphale and pulled him back in for another heady kiss.
            The glass hit the ground, but instead of shattering into shards, it shattered into seeds, which germinated far too rapidly, extending tender green shoots and fragile white roots until a patch of wildflowers had rooted in the gravel beside the road, an eddy of pink, red, purple, and impossible blue.
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aethon-recs · 2 days
Text
Themed Rec List | Tomarrymort Recs by Horcrux ⚡👑🏆🔒💍
I wanted to put together a rec list of Harry/Tom fics with a core focus on horcruxes outside of Diary Tom (the most popular horcrux) and Voldemort himself. Please enjoy these 22 fics that feature one of Tom's horcruxes and their special relationship with Harry.
There’s a ton of interesting variation that can be explored within a Harry and horcrux Tom ship — from where the horcruxes are located and when Harry can conceivably meet them in canon (for example, the Cup horcrux is harder to access than the others); to what age they were made by Voldemort and how that would shape their personalities and interactions with Harry; to the different magical properties that they might embody, depending on the vessel that was chosen.
Finally, it looks like Scarcrux and Locket are the most popular choices (after Diary Tom), and we absolutely need more Cup horcrux fics!
*
⚡ Scarcrux
Amensalism by @cindle-writes (E, 6k, complete)
Scarcrux becomes sentient after the encounter in the Ministry in Harry's 5th year and takes Harry for an adventure.
Bolide by @vdoshu (T, 3k, complete)
On October 31, 1981, a tiny piece of soul attaches himself to Harry Potter in order to survive. This is his story.
Creatures of the Dark we are by @hikarimeroperiddle (M, 28k, complete)
Banished to his cupboard at age 4, Harry learns to listen only to the Voice in his head. Its teachings warp all Harry could have become until no more than dark magic and devotion remains. Visions of a wraith with red eyes complicate matters, especially when Harry and the Voice follow it to Hogwarts so Master can get his hands on the Philosopher’s stone.
Eulogy by @meles-merrivale (E, 6k, complete)
You run through the things you have to do for the day. It is, admittedly, a very short list. Wake up. Be clean. Be ready. An empty life, some might call it. You don’t. It is the life He has given you, and so it is what you deserve.
last rites by @cindle-writes (E, 5k, complete)
Harry has an hour before he walks to his death in the Forbidden Forest. The horcrux in Harry’s scar decides to take matters into its own hands.
Look at me. by @crowcrowcrowthing (M, 1k, complete)
A dark night of the soul.
Pitch Black by @kagariasuha (E, 2k, complete)
The proximity of Horcruxes can influence anyone - especially Harry.
sandpaper kisses, paper cut bliss by @xodahafez (E, 27k, WIP)
Harry Potter survives the Killing Curse, but so does the horcrux within him. And this horcrux has been dangerously infatuated with Harry for seventeen years.
saw you in a dream by @duplicitywrites (E, 2k, complete)
Harry has had this dream before.
*
👑 Diadem
A peculiar way of fitting together by @being-luminous (T, 2k, complete)
“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m wearing a diadem?”
Dance Me On and On by @duplicitywrites (E, 19k, complete)
In his first year at Hogwarts, Harry overhears Quirrell interrogating Binns about an artifact from over a thousand years ago. Five years later, Harry uncovers Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem in the Room of Requirement and finds himself pulled into a kingdom in the throes of a mysterious masquerade ball.
In Just a Moment, You’ll Be Mine by @dividawrites (E, 34k, WIP)
Tom has been stuck inside the Ravenclaw's Diadem for decades, alone, with nothing but his slowly fading memories. One day he feels a pull towards someone and gets interested. And then he gets obsessed.
Death is not an Escape by @whitepinkdandelions (T, 2k, complete)
The Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw is full of endless wisdom, so it only makes sense that it gets its hooks into Harry much faster than the rest of them.
*
🏆 Cup
Thirst by @obsidianpen (E, 27k, complete)
Things go awry when the trio beaks into Gringotts. Harry finds himself trapped, locked in the Lestrange vault, wandless and alone... With a horcrux.
*
🔒 Locket
Arson by @rudehellion (M, 8k, complete)
The hunt for Voldemort's Horcruxes is going poorly. In need of some space to think, Harry offers to take the first watch over camp and slips out into the snowy night. Unable to shake his dark thoughts, Harry finds himself drifting and he begins to dream. What he sees changes everything.
knock it off (part 1) / crave gets slaked (part 2) by @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts (E, 6k, complete)
At some point during Harry's time with the Dursleys, pain got crossed with affection. A kick from Dudley or having his arm yanked by Uncle Vernon at least means they’re acknowledging his existence. It’s not love, but it’s something. Too bad for Harry he carries that through to his less dysfunctional relationships.
The Cost by Blood_Stained_Fingers (M, 8k, complete)
The cost of making a horcrux was steep and when Voldemort manages to kill Harry, destroying the horcrux within, Harry finds out the exact price of losing a piece of your soul. It made a cruel joke that if Voldemort loved his horcruxes, Harry should love them too.
The Dead of Night by @cybrid (E, 6k, complete)
An empty house. A glint of gold. A dream. Or: running away from Privet Drive goes terribly for Harry.
The Ties That Bind by @mosiva (E, 8k, complete)
Harry finds the locket at Grimmauld Place, but it has a curse laid on it. When Harry triggers it, he finds himself trapped with the locket version of Tom Riddle, both of them stuck within the enchantment until they can find the way out. Or so Harry thinks.
Whole by Emriel (E, 20k, complete)
The horcrux hunt goes wrong and Harry fails to destroy the locket horcrux. Tom Riddle hands him over to the Dark Lord as a present for they know he holds part of their soul. In their care, Harry learns that feelings, no matter how toxic, are hard to get rid off.
*
💍 Ring
Personal Assistant by @phantomato (E, 10k, complete)
“And that’s it? I call ‘Tom’ and you show up?” “Yes,” Tom answers.
shelter from the storm by @cindle-writes, @duplicitywrites (E, 7k, complete)
After being left behind by the Dursleys, Harry stumbles upon an empty shack in the middle of nowhere, where he finds a mysterious ring underneath the loose floorboards.
*
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Text
Like an animal | Bucky Barnes
Pairing -> Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Fem!Reader
Summary -> When you don’t want to hear when Bucky says something and you get hit by sex pollen he makes sure you know that you should listen to Bucky when he says something.
Wordcount -> 2.371
Warnings -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, sex pollen, slight thigh riding, oral (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v, rough sex, hate sex, using of the word slut
Request -> Heyyy. I saw your Bucky smut menu and I couldn’t resist lol. Could you do 1. Either enemies to lover or sex pollen (maybe both idk im not picky) 2. Protective Bucky (I wouldn’t oppose to him being slightly jealous too lmao) 3. Oral f receiving and hate sex. And for the petnames I cannot stand anything like pet, kitten, bunny, puppy. No shame to ppl who like them, im just more simple. I'm fine with stuff like babe/baby, doll, honey, sweetheart. I hope this wasn’t too picky lol😭❤️🤞🏾 @blckbarbiedoll
A/N -> Thank you so much for the request. I hope you like it. I tried to include everything you asked for so yeah just read and decide if you like it or not I guess haha. Divider made by @firefly-graphics.
Events -> Bucky Barnes Smut Menu
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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Bucky groans when you just hit the Hydra Agent before he runs away and you follow him. The brown-haired man told your brother he would take care of you, but you’re always so stubborn around him and need to prove that you can do things on your own. Of course he knows, but being the protective man he usually is, he is even stronger when he is with you. Not only because of your brother, who is also his best friend, but also because he likes you. Way more than he admits, he really likes you since the day you started to work together, and the two are always around each other. But a part of him hates you for being so stubborn; at least he hates you in a way that he wants to fuck your attitude out of you and teach you some manners.
He tried to convince you to help, but you were just shaking your head and pushed him away before you punched the other agent. Bucky was standing there, rolling his eyes, but he knows he shouldn’t make you angry; otherwise, he would get some punches as well.
When you run after the agent, he follows you with a groan. Looking around the corner to be sure there is no other agent. When Bucky walks around the corner, the floor is empty, and he can only hear some shouts and some noises, which tell him that you’re beating the guy up.
Meanwhile, you’re in a room with the agent; he just ran into it, and in your headspace of wanting to punch him, you follow him. You don’t really look around you; you’re not noticing the suspicious things around you. The only thing you’re focused on is the Hydra agent opposite you.
“You’re such a naive little girl, aren’t you?”
“Shut up. You don’t know me, and a little girl couldn’t punch you like that,” you shout and walk closer while you lift your hand.
He laughs darkly, waiting until you’re just a few steps away. Then he pushes a button, and a loud noise echoes through the room. You immediately cover your ears with your hands, trying to make the noise quieter. The agent pushes you to the side; you fall and crash against a table before you fall to the ground and make yourself smaller. You press your legs to your chest, your head resting on your knees, while you see the man pushing another button. Then he leaves the room, the noise gets quieter, and you inhale loudly, relaxing your body while there is a complete silence in the room.
You slowly sit up, looking around, but the Hydra agent isn’t in the room anymore. The doors are closed, and you inspect the things around you. There are a lot of containers, big containers. They are filled with some kind of colorful gas, and you wonder what kind of experiments they are doing there.
“Y/N? Are you there?” Bucky shouts from outside the room, trying to open the door.
“Bucky, did you catch him?”
“No?”
“Then do it!” you shout annoyedly back and roll your eyes.
“No! We need to get you out of that lab; there are chemicals.”
You sigh, annoyed. Bucky crashes with his shoulder against the door. While you hear him groaning, you stand up and walk over to one of the containers.
“BUCKY!”
“What? I try to open the door, oke!”
“Yeah, hurry up. It-It’s cooking,” you shout back, taking a step back when the liquid connects itself with the gas.
“What?”
Before you can answer, it bangs, and a big cloud of liquid and gas is over the container, slowly getting bigger like the fog during a rainy and cold morning.
“What the fuck are you doing there?” Bucky asks, and you laugh sarcastically.
“I didn’t do anything. Here are some liquids and gases, and it just- I don’t know. It’s green! Is that normal? Is it supposed to be green?”
“I don’t know. I’m not Bruce.”
“Bucky! James! When he is green, it’s not good, so get me out of that room.”
The fog coats the room, and even when you try not to inhale it, you feel it slowly rushing through your veins, and everything starts to tingle. You feel like you get needy in a way you never were before, and you feel your pants dripping, soaking your panties immediately. You moan softly, your hand slides between your legs, and you shiver at the touch of your fingers. You rub the fabric of your panties and pants against your wet folds, feeling a bit of relief when you move faster against your fingers. A moment later, the door crashes, and you remove your hand. With wide eyes, you look at Bucky, who just broke the door and is looking around.
“Get out of there, doll,” he demands, holding his hand out for you to grab it.
“B-Bucky. I-“
He makes you shut up when he holds your hand and pulls you against him. His firm, muscular chest presses against you, and you groan softly. His leg is pressed against your cunt, and you start to grind yourself against it, making Bucky look at you with furrowed eyebrows.
“What do you think you’re doing there?”
“Please, those- Bucky- Sex pollen,” you mumble, your head falling against his chest while you move your hips slowly against his thigh.
He gasps, his hands immediately around your waist to push you back slightly. Your head falls back, and your eyes are filled with pure desire and lust when you look at him. You bit onto your lip, trying to push your hips against him, feeling the friction you had when you moved against his leg, but he holds you still.
“Please, Bucky.”
“You should learn some manners, shouldn’t you? Running after a Hydra agent and being in one room with him. He could have done filthy things to you. Do you like that? Do you like being used by a man?” Bucky groans; his eyes darken when he feels his dick harden in his pants.
As much as he hates the thought of you being used as a fuck toy by someone else, he loves the thought of using you as his own little doll. Where he can let out his jealousy and his frustration that you just can’t listen during missions and that you always talk back.
“Answer me!" his tone is rough, his fingers digging into your waist, and you moan softly.
“Yes.”
Bucky groans and leans closer to you. Then he presses his lips onto yours and pulls you closer, his hard dick pressing against your stomach, and you whimper. His hands roam over your body, finding their way up your sides, squeezing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt and bra before he slides them back down and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and your lips never leave his while he carries you to the next counter he can find.
With one movement, he shoves everything off the surface and places you on top of it. He takes a step back, still spreading your legs apart while his hands glide along your thighs. Bucky grips the waistband of your pants, tugging at them. You move your body up to help him so he can take off your pants and panties. And he does; he shoves both down your legs and smirks when he sees your already dripping pussy. You moan; the cold air hitting your wetness makes you even more desperate, and you want to move a hand between your folds, but Bucky stops you, gripping your hand and pushing it away.
“Don’t dare to touch yourself. You need to learn manners, and I will teach you them.”
Bucky gets on his knees in front of you, his hands sliding along your thighs before he grips them and holds them apart. Then he kisses a trail along your stomach until he reaches your pussy. His tongue slides through your folds softly, and the warmth of it lets you shiver. Bucky lets go, smiling when he sees your hands gripping the surface to ground yourself.
“Good girl,” he praises.
With a short kiss on your stomach, he guides his tongue back to your folds, sucking softly at your clit and circling it with his tongue before he lowers his movements to your entrance. Your moans and whimpers encourage him to continue to give you the pleasure you want him to give you with his tongue.
“Don’t cum before I allow you to cum.”
You nod, and he raises an eyebrow, looking at you. His hot breath against your wet pussy, coated in your arousal and his saliva. Bucky works his tongue slowly inside of you, taking his time while you push yourself more against him, trying to get more of his tongue. More of him inside of you.
“Bucky-“
“I teach you manners. So we go by my pace,” he explains, kissing your clit.
“You’re a tease, aren’t you, Barnes?”
“Such a big mouth for such a little girl, huh?”
He nibbles softly at your clit, sliding his tongue through your folds again before he kisses every inch of your private part. Bucky loves the way you whimper to get more of the pleasure he gives you. He brings you close to your orgasm, but whenever you want to cum, he just kisses your skin softly. He just needs to push his tongue inside of you, and you are almost over the edge, your walls clenching around him, and he imagines his dick inside your wet, warm hole. The way you’re going to squeeze it when you cum and the way you will moan his name when he thrusts his dick deep inside of you.
Bucky gets up, making you whine. He smirks, his hands still sliding over your thighs before he removes them. You want to protest, but you don’t when you hear him unbuckling his belt before he pushes his pants and boxers down. His hard cock springs free, the tip leaking with pre-cum. He is huge, and you smirk softly when you see the veins running along his shaft. Bucky grabs his cock, stroking it a few times while he rubs his thumb over his tip and smears the pre-cum all over his dick. Then he slaps his dick against your clit, making you gasp.
“You’re so needy,” he says, his cock resting between your wet folds.
Then he likes his dick up with his entrance and pushes himself inch by inch inside of you. He stretches you open like no one ever did before, and your walls are already squeezing his dick. Bucky tries his best not to cum immediately; the warmth and tightness of your pussy make him go crazy. He pushes himself inside of you completely. You moan loudly, your hands find their way to his shoulder, and you grip them. Then you pull him closer, and Bucky breaks the distance between your lips, kissing you roughly while he gives you a moment to adjust to his dick.
Bucky pulls out of you, thrusting inside of you even harder. He is rough, fucking your attitude out of you and the way you talk back. He slams his dick inside of you, forcing it completely between your tight walls. You almost scream at the harshness of his thrusts, his balls slapping against your ass while he fucks you like a wild animal. But the two of you need it - the roughness, the slight pain inside of you, which turns slowly into pleasure. A kind of pleasure you never felt before, one only he can give you while he fucks you like a slut, a toy that just wants to be used by Bucky.
“I hate your fucking attitude,” he says, pulling out to slam his dick harder inside of you.
You scream, your fingers digging into the skin of his back. Your back arches, and you move against him, wanting him deeper.
“I hate the way you always need to talk back.”
He uses his metal hand to grip your throat. Bucky just holds his hand there; he doesn’t squeeze your neck.
“Fucking. Little. Slut,” he groans between his thrusts.
“Bucky- I’m-“
“Shhh. But even when you annoy me with that, I love you, doll,” he admits while he fucks you like an animal.
You throw your head back, overwhelmed by the pleasure he gives you. You feel every vein of his cock; he hits your sweet spot whenever he thrusts inside of you.
“I wanna cum, please. I- Bucky, I love you too. Can I cum? Please?”
He chuckles, bringing his other hand to your clit and rubbing circles on it. At the same harsh pace, he pushes his high lengths inside of you.
“Cum, doll. All over my dick.”
And you do as he tells you. While you scream his name in pleasure, you feel the know in your stomach snapping, and you cum all over his dick. Bucky watches in awe at you while you cum, then he looks down where his dick is connected with you. His cock is covered in your cum, and he groans. When you squeeze him even more, he doesn’t need long until he cums inside of you, painting your walls with his seeds while he slows his movements. You both breathe heavily, your bodies covered in sweat, and Bucky lets himself fall down on top of you. Your hands slide from his shoulders into his soft brown hair, and you play with them.
“Do you mean that, doll?”
“What?”
“That you love me too.”
“Yeah, I love you, Buck.”
He smiles, leaning closer to kiss you softly. His plumb lips perfectly fit against yours.
“Let’s clean us, and then we go back to the compound. I will make sweet love to you there. How does it sound? And then a movie night.”
“But I decide the movie,” you say.
The two of you laugh before he kisses you again and slowly pulls out of you. Bucky helps you to clean yourself before he cleans himself between a lot more kisses.
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨
𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
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Taglist: @sergeantbarnessdoll @kandis-mom @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry
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thegnomelord · 10 hours
Note
if you write a thing about the creaming the zussy i will kiss ur boots
The boots better be shining when you're done.
How To Cure Zombies 101
CW:NSFW MDNI, crackfic obv PiV sex, TLOU Clicker trans Ghost, Top Male Reader, established relationship, happy ending, dub-con because Simon consented before he got bit but reader is apprehensive, zombie sex (does it count as necro?) how does this work? idk porn logic. Don't ask me how this happened, i hope this doesn't become what my blog becomes known for.
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When the Cordyceps spread across the planet and turned millions of people into shambling mushroom infested undead, the world ended.
When Simon got bitten. . . your world ended.
You still remember it like it had been yesterday; He came back bloody, an empty look in his eyes as he showed you the bite on his arm. Your hands shook as he wrapped them around the grip of the gun and aimed it at his head. You both ended up on the floor with you crying into his chest, unable to pull the trigger.
You remember the resigned look in his eyes when he had agreed to let you do whatever you needed to him to cure him, but both of you knew there was no way, what made you immune to the fungus was as mysterious to the rest of the world as it was for you. His lips had been burning hot when he laid a soft kiss on your forehead, the last sense of warmth you've felt since the docs took him to where they kept the infected for study, your heart leaving with him.
And now?
Now the scientists that have been prodding you like a lab rat since Simon got bitten nearly a year ago say they have a way to bring his mind back, to get Simon back.
And the way to do it?
"So let me get this straight?" You begin, your voice tense, your body even tenser. "You want me to fuck the corpse of my lover? And that will cure him?"
That. You're not sure how the eggheads arrived to this conclusion, frankly all of their scientific jargons had flown over your head. All you understood was that the man you had fallen since the first time you met him could be brought back.
You sincerely hope you won't make some type of super fungus through this.
Words can't describe what you feel as you look at Simon's (is it even Simon?) bound body writhing on the gyno chair, naked and bare to you. You doubt you even know what you feel, hope and fear simultaneously curling in your stomach— You hadn't had the courage to look at him ever since the scientists took him away; The harsh laboratory lights make it easy to see the mycelium filling his veins beneath the ashy pale skin, mushroom caps growing beneath his pecs and across all other scars he has. Red and yellow mushrooms have eaten away his nose and spread out to follow the contours of his face, growing in a way that makes the mushroom caps blend together into a skull shape.
Your heart aches when you see his eyes haven't been eaten away yet, the once deep brown turned milky white and staring lifelessly past you, thrashing about in the bindings, rotten teeth gnawing on the ball gag in his mouth, small hisses and malformed muffled clicks echoing through the room.
You try to look down and you stop at his stomach, forcing yourself to breathe in and out slowly because your heart is beating so fast it feels like you'll have a panic attack. You have no idea if this will work and doing this to Simon only to find out it's as useless as all your previous attempts to cure him. . . you're sure it would break you. Closing your eyes and counting to ten you will yourself to focus, your eyes opening slowly and following the trail of little mushroom caps down to his groin.
It's not what you expected., but it's. . . a lot; Mushroom caps have replaced the lips of his cunt, similar to the hard growths on his head but these look thinner and longer, almost like flower petals framing his cunt, bright red at the corners and getting progressively lighter as it nears his hole. A sort of morbid curiosity compels you to reach out brushing your fingertips against the caps. They're surprisingly softer than you had expected, smooth and slick with some kind of slime. You can't help but notice how a longer stalked mushroom grows from what had been his clit.
You jerk your hand back when a second brush of your fingers makes his body to jerk back and attempt to fight against the restraints, more angry clicks vibrating his throat.
But you also notice a kind of… sweet scent in the air and it's coming from him. Cautiously you brush against the caps again, slowly dipping your fingers under to touch the gills underneath. You keep your hand where it is when he thrashes again, but you're certain that smell is stronger now, and you catch the glimpse of clear viscous slick slowly leak from his hole.
Carefully you push a finger into his hole in an attempt to stretch him out. Logically you know that he probably doesn't feel it, but it feels wrong to just stick your cock in him; He's cold. You know he's dead but you had held out some hope that he would be warmer, that there would be some signs of life despite how stupid that sounds.
He's dry right now, but more of that clear fluid seeps around your fingers and lubes the way as you experimentally push your finger all the way up to the last knuckle, and you felt his muscles flutter around you, clenching down as if trying to draw you in deeper. His head continued to thrash around, no change in the feral behavior, but you still try to be gentle, pushing one then two fingers in and slowly scissoring him open.
You pull your fingers out when his hole has relaxed enough to let you easily slide your fingers in and out, and he's produced enough slick to completely drench your hand. You try to look at him as you press your cock against his fluttering hole, but the sight of his milky eyes almost makes you soft on the spot so you screw your eyes closed and slowly slide in.
Despite how cold and wet his cunt is, you haven't felt anyone's touch, even your own, since he got infected, and a part of you feels disgusted at how a bit of pleasure traces up your spine. He continues to hiss and click as you bottom out, his hips bucking wildly you have to press them down. You set a slower pace than you're used to, keeping your thrusts even and consistent, afraid to tear anything but your fear is seemingly misplaced. He's so much wetter than he'd ever get before he got infected, slick wetly squelching as you bottom out over and over again, clicks and snarls accompanying every move you make.
You're ashamed to say you don't last long. Fuck, is he tight you've been ignoring your body for so long that when you accidentally brush against the stalk growing from his clit and his cunt suddenly tightens up like a vice you cum on the spot, your hips doing little minute twitches as you empty so much of your cum in his cunt that your balls hurt. You pull out just as slowly, both of your mixed fluids leaking out and almost getting caught by the soft mushrooms framing his hole.
You muster up the courage to look him in the eyes, and your heart breaks when his lifeless eyes blindly stare back at you.
You feel like a fool when the first time doesn't work, he's still just a body pupated by a fungus. And you feel like an even bigger fool when you agree to do this a second time.
But the third time. . .
You don't know if it's just wishful thinking but he seems more. . . alert. His head always follows you when you approach him but now his milky eyes almost seem to be looking at your face instead of staring straight through you. He's strangely still on the chair, teeth gnawing on the ball gag but he doesn't try to get out of the restraints.
He doesn't screech when you gently caress the soft outer mushroom caps framing his cunt, instead his chest vibrates with more deep clicks. Nor does he start to wildly writhe on the chair when you slowly sink a finger into his cunt, finding it's already wet with slick. If anything he almost seems to chase(more like stumble) after the sensation, his hips doing small little movements to push your finger deeper into him.
Emboldened by childish hope you do something you hadn't before and reach with your other hand to slowly trace the long stalk of the clitshroom (not a term you coined), before rubbing the base of the cap like you would your own cock.
You nearly jump out of your skin when the gentle pressure of your fingers makes him buck into your hands and let out an ear-piercing screech that the gag has trouble muffling. You pull your hands away and that worsens the problem, the shrieking turning into literal chest rumbling snarls as Simon starts to struggle against the bindings.
Panic rushing down your system you put your hands were they were, gently stroking the 2 inch long mushroom growing from his clit. His hips buck up to chase after your hand, the snarls reverting back into shrieks, but as you stroke him longer they gradually die down to low pitched clicks and whistles. You're stumped; the clicks sound a lot like a cat's puff, his hole fluttering and clenching around your fingers as you slowly push them inside.
He's warmer now, not quite how he was before, but not cold as a corpse either. You know that you've gone completely mad by the fact he starts to gyrate his hips— grinding down just as you get knuckles deep so your fingers can brush against the sensitive spots inside him — makes your mind think that it's a bit of your Simon coming back.
You shake your head and pull your hands away, taking hold of his trembling thighs. You're greeted with another deep snarl but he quiets down immediately when you start to slowly push into him. He feels even tighter now, and you watch how his head falls back on the headrest, a long series of low clicks and whistles squirming past the gag.
His hips move to meet your slow thrusts, tight warm walls squeezing down every time you attempt to pull out just like he used to do. And that thought has your body increasing the pace automatically, your balls slapping against his ass, every sharp thrust hitting something spongy inside him and drawing out a sharp click, the rough pace leaving you panting.
Mindlessly you look up, too caught up in the moment remembering how Simon loved eye contact to remember the situation you're in.
He's looking straight at you.
You halt mid thrust, the low hiss he lets out falling on deaf ears as you tilt your head to the side. You're not insane, his eyes follow you. They're still milky, but they don't look through you. He's looking at you.
Another rough clicking sound leaves him and he thrusts his hips down against yours with enough strength to bruise, almost impatient. Despite how stupid it is you reach out and quickly unbuckle the gag with trembling fingers. "Si?" You say, unable to hide the hope in your voice. "Are you there?" You lean over him, looking hopefully into his eyes. "Do you remember me?"
His jaw moves like he's munching on a survivor, but all that leaves his mouth are more clicks and rough grunts.
Fuck. You are a fool.
A sob tears through your chest before you can stop it, ducking your head down to lay it on his chest. You're unable to keep the fresh tears from falling on him, watering the damned mushrooms that had taken him from you. You can't stop the sobs from coming, your back bowed and shoulders shaking as you cry just as much as the day you first lost him.
His chest vibrates with another long series of clicks and whistles, just pouring salt on the gaping would in your chest.
Your name rights through the room.
It's scratchy, rough, almost incomprehensible to your ears, but it's your name.
You look up so quickly you almost snap his neck. "Simon?" You whisper, staying in him even as you feel yourself soften. "Are you in there?" You slowly reach out to hold his face, careful not to cut your hands on the sharp mushroom caps along his cheeks.
He looks at you back, jaw moving still, but he doesn't try to bite the flesh of your palms despite your hands being right there. "Ckckck-" He clicks, pupils going from pinpricks to blown out, "Ckckrkck- Mo- ckck-ve." He manages, a thrust of his hips accompanying the order.
Your heart leaps to your throat and you can do nothing but follow it, sliding one hand down to dig your nails into his thigh, looming over him as you pull out until only the head is inside and them slam into him that there's an audible clap of skin on skin as you bottom out. A half shriek half click half "Yes!" escapes him as he throws his head back, slack jawed.
A whole range of noises escapes him as you hammer into him with all you've got, one hand remaining always on his face. You can feel him getting hotter the longer you pound into him, body shaking as each thrust nails his sensitive spot. He gets progressively tighter and tighter as you fuck into him, and you let go of his thigh to carefully strike along the long shaft of the clitshroom.
He shrieks at the top of his lungs and his cunt clenches down on you like a vice, fluttering around you and gripping your cock like it doesn't want you to pull out. It pulls you into an orgasm,
"Simon?" You whisper, staying in him even as you feel yourself soften. He's too silent compared to how vocal he had been a few moments ago. "Are you in there?"
His head rolls a bit, peering at you through through his lashes, tongue moving heavily in his mouth and lips twitching up into a soft of barely-there grin. "Cckck- l- ckckc- love- ckrk-you -ckkckrkckck-"
Taglist: @dead-end-stuff
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milkteahood · 3 days
Text
I woke up and chose violence SO
König would never actually get over your passing. He would constantly tell himself it was never supposed to happen that way. He has been so careful, he really thought no one knew about you. But, unfortunately, he wasn’t careful enough and his enemies found out about you.
He would blame himself for dating you in the first place. If he didn’t, at the very least you would still be alive and well and he could watch you thrive from afar. But he was needy, selfish, he wanted you and now you’re gone.
König wouldn’t even dare wipe the dust off of your nightstand. Things in your shared apartment were exactly the same as you left them, just much messier. He was scared that if he cleaned up, you would disappear for good. Dust would pile up on whatever you left on the nightstand and he would fall asleep on your side of the bed.
He would still talk about you as if you were still there. Only the closest to him would know the truth. Everyone else would just think he is incredibly lucky to have someone wait for him at home.
He would always make two cups of coffee. Always. And he would sit down, set one in front of him, and talk his head off. Just like you two would always talk together over coffee.
Nights were the hardest, because as much as he could pretend you’re there during the day, it was more difficult to pretend when nightmares awake him and your side of the bed is empty.
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spiderfunkz · 2 days
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hi! i’d love to know abt your fav headcanon(s) for tasm!peter and maybe a little oneshot of said headcanon(s)?
peter parker falls in love HARDDDDD!! i love him and his nerdy ass like aaaaghhhhhh. he's so cutesy and skrunkly i just wanna throw a rock at him 💕
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peter parker is the type of person to go head over heels when he likes someone!! the type of person to steal a glance every time you're not looking. the type of person to secretly hope he'd get partnered up with you during class. the type of person to practice in front of the mirror before finally talking to you.
he's the type of person to notice every little thing about you. the pins on your bag of your favorite artists? he can name five songs. your favorite flowers? he walks past the flower shop every morning, hoping to buy you some one day. the way you always have that one mood ring on your finger, he finds it adorable.
he goes so flustered whenever you catch him glancing at you. his face turns all red and he starts giggling actually, your probably the reason he skips to school everyday, hands in pockets, twirling around in pure joy and excitement.
he'll brag to his friends on how he talked to you when in reality it was him saying happy birthday and you replying with a thank you along with a smile that surely gave him a cavity.
to summarize it up. peter parker doesn't just like someone. he loves them. pure admiration, adoration, infatuation, smitten. you're the light in his heart, the butterfly in a field of wildflowers, the red tulip in a field of white tulips.
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peter has liked you for a while now.
it was a long day of classes, he could've just skipped but aunt may found out he was doing that too much and got pretty mad. besides, it's just one more class. a class he never really had to try in. should be easy right?
yes, but no.
you just switched classes to biology. sitting in the only empty chair, just two chairs away from peter. he saw you, and that's when he knew.
you were never late, unlike peter. every time he comes in you're already there, smiling awkwardly at the situation as mrs. moore lectured him. but what's the point? peter wasn't listening, he was too busy figuring out what emotion was on your mood ring, and spoiler alert! it was love.
it took him a lot of convincing and reassurance from gwen, but he finally got the courage to talk to you. not about how the weather is, or the same old "did you do the _ assignment yet?". he was going to ask you out on a totally friends-only, platonic date ( that goes so well it will end up with you and him holding hands! ).
"hi!" peter smiled, his hand playing with his hair. "hey, peter." he seemed nervous, you were too.
"um, so, i was wondering if you.. would.." he looked everywhere but your eyes, "..that if we could, maybe, um.. hangout? together? if you want to. obviously, you don't have to but um-"
"no yeah, i would love to peter!" you smiled. was it hot? it felt hot, your face felt hot, does peter notice? he probably does.
peter's heart was racing through a field, it was winning first place. "okay, good- great! i could um. pick you up? i'll text you. you have my number right? i could just um- you know..." he played with the hem of his jacket.
you nodded, "yeah i do." — "okay, we could meetup somewhere.. maybe the park? is that boring? the cinema? anything you'd like, i'm fine with anything you know. or we could just.. hang.."
you smile, "sure."
"really?"
"yeah definitely, either one. or we could do all of them, i've got nothing to do." — "okay, that's super! super- cool.. super cool. i'll text you, is that okay?"
you nodded, "of course."
"okay, i um- i'll go now. i should go now. i'll see you? later?" peter asks.
"yeah okay!" you wave happily as he walks backwards towards the exit, nearly bumping into 2, no, 3 now, students.
"text me!" you yell out.
peter nodded eagerly.
he walks out, knowing gwen is not gonna hear the end of this.
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monstersighing · 16 hours
Note
Frankenstein monster x Fem!reader
Uhhh, this is actually kinda sweet, but also horny.
NSFW, 18+, Minor Do Not Interact
Frankenstein's Monster/Creature x Fem Reader
Content: penetrative sex, masturbation.
+++
You find him in the forest. A man, but strange. He’s tall and broad. Covered with scars and stitches on the parts of him you can see under his dirty hooded cape. There are birds surrounding him that he is feeding with a piece of hardened bread, so he doesn’t notice you at first. When he does, he flinches and pulls his hood down.
He is huge and tall and hooded, but you are not afraid.
You coax him towards you with soft words. Promises of food and shelter. And he follows you home.
+++
He is gentle despite his size and hardly speaks.
When you ask his name, he doesn’t reply, so you call him Francis, after a statue of the saint you once saw with birds on his shoulders and little creatures at his feet.
Francis pulls pails of water from the well and chops firewood with an energy and strength that makes something turn over in your stomach. Sometimes, you see him looking at you from under his hood. His eyes are two different colours, and both are beautiful.
When you tell him that, Francis shakes his head, unbelieving, but you think you see a smile.
The next day, he leaves his hood down.
+++
One night, sat together in the glow of the fire, you ask Francis where he came from, where he was born.
“I was not born. My father, he made me. Out of many men.”
He looks at you then, as if waiting for your disgust and rejection.
“So, you are a miracle of science, then. How wonderful,” you reply.
The surprise on his face makes it light up. You think you would give him a thousand compliments if he would just look like that more often.
+++
It has been a long dirty day of planting in the fields, so you boil pans of water over the fire, empty them in the tub and sink into the water.
You can hear the rhythmic sound of wood being chopped. You think of Francis’s grating rusty voice, his muscular shoulders. You imagine what those shoulders would feel like under your hands. What your legs would feel like wrapped around his waist.
You are rubbing yourself dry when the door creaks. You turn automatically, and see Francis at the door, hand clenched on the handle.
You don’t cover yourself, just let him gaze at your nakedness.
You hear the crumple of metal as the door handle cracks in Francis’s hand and he bolts.
You dress quickly and run outside, wet hair running rivulets down the back of your neck.
You find Francis in the barn, on his knees. His eyes are closed, and he is biting down on one hand as he fucks his straining cock into the fist of the other. You watch: the heaviness of his cock, his clenched eyelids, the desperate twitches of his hips. He comes quickly, and cum spurts and dribbles over his hand. When he removes the other from his mouth, you see the marks of teeth there.
You must make a noise because Francis opens his eyes then and sees you.
His reaction is instantaneous, a pulling up of trousers as he leaps to his feet and pushes past you and out of the barn door.
You shout after him as he runs towards the forest, but he does not stop or turn to look at you.
+++
Francis does not come back that evening.
In the morning you go looking for him.
He’s in the clearing in the forest where you first saw him.
“Come home,” you say. “Come home with me.” You do not know how to tell him, and you do not know how to ask, so you rise on your toes, and pull him down by his cloak so you can kiss him.
Frencis’s kiss is uncertain, but when you coax your tongue into his mouth you can taste the berries that he must have eaten.
It starts to rain, and you grab his hand to run through the forest and across the fields back home.
Once inside your home, you notice that his cape has kept him dry, but your clothes are soaked. Your nipples are cold and hard.
You strip to nakedness under Francis’s gaze and place his mismatched hands - one broader, with callouses, the other with long fingers - on your breasts.  He kneads at them roughly, and you watch him spread his legs to accommodate his filling cock.
You splay your legs and show him how to finger your already leaking cunt. His eyes flick from your wetness to your face, his two different coloured eyes hungry.
“The bed,” you say.
He ignores you and pushes you down to the floor.
He’s still clothed and your legs are spread wide. He looks like he wants to devour you. He pushes his trousers down and pulls off his shirt with a rip of seams. There’s a neatly stitched incision on his chest, in the shape of a Y.
Then he lines up his cock with your cunt and pushes deep inside you with a grunt. You cry out at the feeling of fullness and he begins to thrust into you, each ferocious push feeling deeper than the last.
Your legs lock as far as you can over his back, holding him deep and your hands roam his skin, touching the rough stitches that joint his arms to his shoulders. Proof that this man was made of many men. Now just one, who wants you, desperately. Who is showing you with each jolting push of his cock inside you.
His thrusts ruck up the rug beneath you, and you brace your arms against the floor. The resistance pushes him deeper into you. He comes with a howl: satisfied, animalistic. You feel his come, warm and sticky, flood into you.
He rears back then, and with his cock still seated inside you, Francis presses a finger around the stretched rim of your cunt and then inside, crooking up, hard. The impossible stretch makes your walls flutter, your thighs clench and your back arch with your orgasm.
Francis watches as his cock softens, and then slips out of your cunt, come leaking from your entrance. You sigh at the absence until he splays over you, a heavy comforting weight, and you sleep.
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ickadori · 1 day
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okay clearly i need to be detained and kept away from ur inbox 😭
But hsjsjjs i have an interview at the end of this week that I've been preparing for and i can imagine calling up fwb sukuna to get some jitters out bc u know he can fuck ur head empty and clear of anxiety but when u get there for some reason it's different???? Like instead of calling you a nasty bitch slut hes like "arent you such a good girl? Yeah? My good fucking girl" and kinda praising you, albeit mockingly, instead of his usual degrading and it has you cumming soooo hard. And then the next day he shows up and ur like fuck off kuna im busy and he's like duh? Get in. And he drops u to ur interview and ur like ??? Bc u dont even remember telling him but he's already had the address memorized for over a week now. Ahhhh and probably holds ur hand in his lap bc u keep fidgeting on the way and he complains that its distracting him and hes so sexy driving and mindlessly rubbing his thumb on ur hand AHHHHHHH IM IN SO DEEP DORI HELP 😭
choso bbg anon (my true identity)
[cws] fem reader.
[a/n] GOODLUCK AT YOUR INTERVIEW IM SURE YOULL DO GREAT!!!! i really hope you get it 🥹🥹🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
-
It’s…different.
You had first noticed it when you opened the front door to your apartment and let the man in. Instead of his usual roughness, a push against the wall and the unforgiving pinch of his teeth against your neck, he was…different.
He had smiled -a ghost of one, but one nonetheless-, curled an arm around your lower back to tug you up against him, and had pressed his lips to your temple and murmured a ‘hey’ against your skin.
You had been nearly tempted to pull out a list of questions to make sure a clone hadn’t taken his place.
When Sukuna made a detour to your place, there was always minimal talking in the beginning. You usually made a beeline to the bedroom, or the living room if the urge was especially strong, but he had steered you to the kitchen first and plopped a takeout bag on the counter.
“You brought…food.”
“Oh, she does have a brain. Was starting to think all that was in that head was thoughts about my dick.”
“Go to hell.”
The both of you had eaten dinner together, something that you offhandedly thought about doing with him quite a few times, but you could never get him to stay past the post-sex shower. You had wondered if it would be awkward trying to hold a conversation with him past exchanging breathless compliments about each other’s genitals, but it had been so easy. The topics came easily, naturally, and the lulls in conversation weren’t uncomfortable, but rather you found yourself content in the silence.
The buildup to the sex was also different — great, but different. His usual groping and squeezing was traded in for softer touches (as soft as someone like Sukuna could be), his dirty talk which consisted of name calling and guttural groans and growls swapped out for…
Your cheeks burn as his eyes refuse to stray from your face, thumb moving in slow circles over your clit. His finger is rough, calloused from years of use, and the texture of it against your smooth, silken bud has you squirming underneath his touch and gasping for breath.
“Ryo,” you manage, heels of your feet digging into the mattress as shaky hands raise to weakly push at his wrist.
“Sensitive,” he mutters, lips stretching into that grin of his, and you keen when he presses down hard, his free hand moving to press down on your thigh when it moves to close. “Aht aht, be my good girl and keep these legs open.” You clench around nothing, heart stuttering and lashes fluttering as you finally meet his gaze. “You like that?” His voice is a raspy drawl, lips still wet from where they had been kissing at your cunt minutes prior.
“N-no.”
“Tch, ‘s not nice to lie.” His thumb slides lower, through puffy folds and down to your hole before pushing in. A squelch sounds, a mix of his cum and your slick dribbling out. “But your pussy always tells the truth.” You tighten around his finger with a moan. “She’s my good girl.” His head ducks down, and you keen as he places a loud, wet kiss against your clit, eyes never once leaving yours. “Isn’t she?” ‘She’ tightens in response, and your skin burns as he lets out a throaty laugh, thumb pulling out and replaced with his pointer and middle.
“Ryomen!”
~
You hop around on one foot as you fight to pull your shoe on. Your interview was in an hour minutes and the building was 30 minutes away and you had yet to locate your car keys, button your top, or even finish combing your hair.
“Where the fuck are you?” You dash here and there, flipping this and turning that while simultaneously putting your hair in a presentable style when suddenly there’s a hard knock at the door. “Fuck off.” You ignore it, not caring who’s on the other side, and start the process of turning your apartment inside out as you grow more and more stressed.
Where are those damn ke—
Another knock, harder, and your jaw clenches as you make a beeline for the door, unlock it, and wrench it open. “Who the—Ryomen?” You blink, eyebrows furrowing as you look at him stood on your doorstep. “I didn’t call you.”
“I know.”
“…you’re here.”
“I am.”
“Why?” He jingles his car keys, and you scoff and narrow your eyes. “I’m not fucking you in your car, especially not after you got pissy about me messing up the interior last time. So you might as well take your ass—”
“Get your shit and let’s go. Your interview is in forty.”
“I know, I’m—what? How do you know about my interview?” The last you checked, Sukuna didn’t follow you on any social media, and you can’t recall ever posting about it anyways.
“You told me, dumbass. Let’s go.” He nods his head to the side, and you’re left stumped as you go about collecting the rest of your stuff, Sukuna not so silently judging your torn apart apartment, and you’re seated in his passengers seat in no time as he weaves in and out of traffic.
“Something isn’t right.” You finally speak up after the fifth person has blared their horn at him.
“You left something.”
“No,” your hand lifts up to rub at your cheek. “I’m talking about this,” you gesture around his car and to him. “You. Why are you driving me to my interview? Why do you even know I have an interview?”
“You told me.” His fingers drum against the steering wheel, the other hand gripping the back of your headrest. It’s an undeniably sexy position on him, and you’d usually gladly take in the scenery, perhaps even convince him to pull over somewhere more secluded. “Last week when you were begging me to stay over after I put a finger in your—”
“I did not beg you to stay over. Do not lie, Sukuna.”
“Sukuna?” His eyes cut to you before moving back to the road.
“Yes, Sukuna. That’s your name, isn’t it?” He hums, foot tapping hard against the break, and you huff when you snap forward before your seatbelt locks into place.
“I thought it was Ryo.” He makes a poor mockery of your blissed out voice, and you just barely resist the urge to hit his arm. He makes a right turn, open palm turning the wheel to the side before letting it roll back into place. You breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.
You catch sight of the clock on the dash and let out another breath, this one shakier than the last. Your interview grows nearer and nearer, and while you’re not an especially nervous person, you feel a bit more anxious than usual. You had been preparing all week, brushing up on interview questions and trying to think of things they could potentially ask you. You were as ready as you’d ever be, and yet you still felt as if you weren’t ready at all.
Your hand subconsciously moves to pick at some poor spot on your body, but it’s snagged at the last second and held in a firm grip. You look to Sukuna and then down to where he’s got your hand on his thigh, that thumb of his tracing invisible lines on your skin.
He doesn’t speak and neither do you, and the silence is comfortable.
He gets you there on time with a bit left to spare, and he’s waiting for you when you get out, sitting on the hood of his car with his phone up to his ear. He hangs up when he catches sight of you, eyebrow quirking up as he watches you walk up to him. You stop in front of him, and he snags you by the belt loop and pulls you between his legs.
“Well?” He asks, and you slip your hands into the pockets of his jacket.
“Well?”
“Stop.” He pinches at your waist and you try and fail to bite back a laugh. “Did you get it or not?” A slow grin breaks out onto your face as you nod, and he matches it. “That’s my girl.”
Oh.
You turn your head as your ears burn, suddenly finding the pavement incredibly interesting. “Y-Yeah, they said they don’t usually hire on the spot, but they really liked me, so…” Your eyes flit to his, and you pull your lip into your mouth when you see he’s intently watching you.
“I’m not surprised.”
“That they hired me?”
“That they liked you.”
His gaze drops down to your mouth.
“…can we go back to your place now?”
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flickering-chandelier · 12 hours
Text
It’s Cool, We’re Just Friends
Pairing: Azriel x BestFriend! Reader
Summary: Azriel and Reader have been besties for years, until one night has them crossing into uncharted territory.
Warning: Steamy at the end whoops
Word Count: 2.8k
The rooftop garden at Rhysand’s townhouse was one of your favorite places in the world. It was one of the only places that you could often have to yourself when you needed some time for quiet reflection. You loved to lounge up there, especially at night when you could watch the City of Starlight come to life before your very eyes.
The only thing better than having the rooftop all to yourself was sharing it with your best friend, Azriel.
You smiled as he appeared, smoothly landing a few feet from you, his eyes sparkling, his shadows vanishing as he smiled at you.
He dragged the empty iron chair closer to you and settled in, stretching his wings out behind him, placing his hands behind his head, leaning back casually. He only sat this way when it was just the two of you, when he didn’t have to keep up appearances as the Night Court’s spymaster and shadowsinger.
“What did you do today?” he asked, looking out at the light and life of the city.
“Trained with Cassian. Hated my life,” you said, shifting in the iron chair to ease some of the soreness in your back.
Azriel laughed quietly, his eyes flicking to you as you tried to get comfortable. “Cassian always has that effect on me, too.”
You scoffed, lightly swatting at his bare bicep. “Don’t be mean. You love your brother.”
He sighed, smiling lightly at you. “Then what?”
“Mmmm,” you pondered, running through your day in your mind. “Oh! I finished my book!”
“The one about the forbidden love?” He lifted his eyebrow.
“Yes!” you squealed, excitedly. “It was so good.”
“Let me guess,” he said, his voice teasing in that way that he saved just for you. “They finally got together and lived happily ever after?”
“Yes! How did you know?” You teased.
He shook his head, smiling. “Anything else?”
“Not really,” you said, studying him. He was the only person you had ever met who actually wanted to know the answer when they asked you how your day was. “What did you do today?”
Azriel shrugged, looking out at the city again, the flickering lights below reflecting in his eyes. “Not much.”
“Are you kidding me?” You leaned forward in your seat, gawking at him, and he laughed. “I tell you everything about my boring day, and that’s your answer?”
His smile faded though as he leveled a gaze at you, his eyes sweeping over your face. “I wanted to spare you the details.”
Your blood turned cold at his serious expression. Azriel and you had been best friends for years, ever since you had fled your home in the Autumn Court. From your old home, you had gone north, nearly freezing to death in the Winter Court before the shadowsinger found you and gave you refuge in Velaris. The two of you were kindred spirits, hitting it off instantly. His brothers and his other friends had eventually told you that he immediately relaxed in your presence, even from the beginning, and that he had never seemed so comfortable with someone so quickly. You were honored to be his friend, thanked the stars every night that he had found you and saved your life.
He had been fiercely protective of you from the beginning, wanting to shield you from the realities of what his life was like outside of Velaris. You hated to admit it, but you did get squeamish thinking about what you knew Azriel sometimes had to do -- the torture, the blood, the screams. The thought of him sneaking around in dangerous territories, watching enemies, gathering intel on the in’s and out’s of their lives… it made you more worried than you could express.
But, you also hated not knowing what he was doing, if he was safe. It took months, but you eventually convinced him that you could handle at least the vaguest details of the missions he went on. You knew that he would never be willing to tell you the whole truth, knew that he didn’t want you to think of him that way -- the ruthless, unyielding shadowsinger.
Still, he would usually tell you something. So, if he was unwilling to tell you what he had been doing today… it must have been something very dangerous indeed.
“Oh,” you said finally. “Are you okay?”
His eyes softened as he gazed at you. “I am now.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the sweet Illyrian before you. “You can talk about it, you know. If you have to. I’m here for you,” you reached across the space between you, gently taking his hand.
Azriel’s gaze landed on your hand clasped with his, his expression softening to barely detectable sadness that made you heart hurt. “I know you are,” he said softly.
You studied him for a moment, eyes trailing over that beautiful face that you had memorized. He was in his fighting leathers, tattoos peeking out from under his collar, trailing down his bare arms, his strong biceps that were the size of your head, his massive wings stretched out behind him.
And his rough, scarred hand gently holding yours.
You tugged on his hand gently, so his eyes met yours again. “Want to take me for a ride?”
He smirked, an expression that had taken months of friendship to unlock. “You sure you want to?”
“You seem like you could use a distraction,” you murmured.
Azriel held your gaze for a beat longer before he stood up and scooped you into his arms, only pausing for a moment to smile at you before he shot up into the sky.
Flying with your Illyrian friends had taken a long time for you to get remotely used to, and even now it sometimes made your stomach churn. But you knew it helped clear Azriel’s mind, and you liked the time you got to spend with him in the air, just the two of you.
He held you close against him, his arms wrapped behind your back and under your knees. You rested a hand on his chest, reveling in your opportunity to study him while his eyes were trained on his surroundings. No matter how much time you spent with your friend, his beauty never ceased to amaze you.
You could feel the tension in his body slowly loosen as he flew above his city, a light breeze gracing against your skin, running through your hair through the shields that he put up around the two of you.
Dipping his head, bringing his mouth to your ear, he murmured, “Thank you.”
You curled into him, resting your head on his chest. He tightened his grip on you slightly.
Sometime later, he landed back on the roof, setting you carefully on the ground. Despite his gentle touch, you winced quietly as the muscles in your back ached from your training this morning.
Azriel’s brow furrowed, his hands freezing at your waist, his fingers flexing against your body. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” you said, smiling sweetly up at him.
He arched a brow, not believing it for a second.
“It’s nothing!”
He simply waited, knowing full well that you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for long.
“Okay, fine,” you groaned. “My back hurts. A lot.”
His eyes swam with worry, before narrowing in accusation. “You haven’t been doing the stretches you’re supposed to be doing, have you?”
“Well…” you said, your voice rising a few octaves. “Not all of them.”
He growled your name, his frustration evident. “Why not?”
You shrugged. “They didn’t seem that important at the time.”
Groaning, he picked you up and slung you over his shoulder, heading for the stairs of the townhouse. You shrieked. In all of your years together, he had never done this.
“What are you doing?” you squealed, trying and failing not to stare at your best friend’s glorious ass, which was now far too close to your face.
“I’m going to help you solve the problem that you created, because you’re my best friend, and because you clearly aren’t capable of taking care of yourself,” he said, as he stomped unceremoniously down the stairs.
Scoffing, you said, “Is this really a necessary part of it?”
“Yes,” he countered, clearly amused.
You huffed, staying silent as he walked through the mercifully empty halls to your bedroom. He opened the door with his free hand, kicking it shut behind him, before tossing you onto the bed.
“Oww,” you groaned as your back hit the mattress.
The tough guy act faded as soon as you were in pain. His eyes softened. “Sorry.”
“I thought you said you were going to help me,” you grumbled.
“I am,” he said, stalking towards you, his eyes alight. “Lay on your stomach.”
You quirked a brow at him in question, but when he just silently held your gaze, you sighed and did as you were told.
Suddenly, you were very aware of how thin the material of your dress was, how the hem landed just above your knees. You were thankful that he couldn’t see the heat in your cheeks.
The mattress shifted beneath you as he climbed onto the bed. “What are you--”
“Shh.”
Your skin prickled as he settled his calves snug against your hips, straddling you. He remained hovering over your body on his knees. You weren’t sure you were breathing.
“Okay, what are you --”
The air was sucked out of your lungs as his hands found their way to your shoulders, kneading your back with his rough fingers, digging deep into you, working out all the tension that had been building in your muscles for who knows how long.
You weren’t sure if it felt good or if it hurt… both. Definitely both.
He remained silent as he worked out the knots in your back, gradually moving lower and lower, kneading and rubbing.
The lower his hands moved, the more you had to focus not to squirm. You felt the heat of his body, and the things his hands were doing… you couldn't help but imagine what those hands could do in other places.
It’s not like you had never thought about it before. You had always been just friends, but you weren’t blind. He was the most beautiful male you had ever seen. And he was always so sweet and kind and protective…
You couldn’t stop the moan that came out of your mouth.
His hands stilled for the slightest moment before he continued kneading your muscles. “You doing okay?” He asked, his voice thick. It made heat spread between your legs. The legs that he was currently holding down with his body.
“Mmhmm,” was all you could manage.
It was impossible to tell how much time had passed when he finally lifted his hands from your back. “Is that better?” he asked softly, not moving from his position over you.
You twisted around a bit, testing movements that had made you wince before. After a moment you turned to lay on your back, your body touching his in so many places as you did so. “You’re a miracle worker,” you said, your voice coming out raspy.
He continued to hover over you, his expression unreadable. He leaned closer, bracing his forearms on either side of you, his chest pressing against yours, his face only inches away.
“Az,” you breathed, unable to look away from the heat in his eyes.
His eyes sparked and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours, twining a hand in your hair as the other gripped your waist.
Your body responded to his immediately, your hands cupping his cheek, wrapping around the back of his neck.
The kiss started out slow. Azriel was taking his time, and when you opened your mouth for him, his tongue slid in gently, exploring your mouth with such tenderness that you wanted to weep.
You gasped as he pulled away to leave a line of sensual kisses down your neck, his hands running over your stomach, your thighs.. “We should’ve been doing this the whole time,” you moaned, breathless.
He laughed into your skin, and you felt the vibration go through your whole body. You squeezed your thighs together and he groaned, nipping lightly at your shoulder.
“Yes, we should have,” he said, kissing his way up your neck. “We’re idiots,” he laughed before taking your mouth with his again, kissing you deeply.
“So stupid,” you said against his mouth and the shoulders you were clutching shook with laughter.
Azriel continued to kiss you slowly, his rough hand drifting underneath your dress, up your thighs…
“Is this okay?” he pulled his mouth back an inch, his eyes studying your face, his body attuned to your every reaction.
“Az, you’re my very favorite person. I trust you with my life. You can do whatever you want to me,” you said, your voice teasing despite how breathless he was making you.
His eyes sparked, his expression one of affection and disbelief before he smirked, his hand trailing up further. “Whatever I want, hmm?” he murmured, his eyes trained on yours.
You could only stare as his hand stilled, a fraction away from where you really wanted him.
“And what do you want, my dear friend?” he said, his voice velvety in a way you’d never heard before.
“Please,” was all you could manage.
He grinned, waiting a beat before he moved your underwear to the side, sliding a finger into your center.
The moan that you let out nearly rattled the walls.
His gaze was trained on you, watching how your body reacted to every move he made. Eventually you tugged his clothes off and he did the same to you, until you were moving together, skin to skin. He moaned your name as he slid into you, setting your body on fire.
He pressed his forehead to yours as he moved inside you, one of his hands holding yours, clutched next to your head, as he kissed your lips gently. He gazed at you when he pulled back, his every movement swimming with affection. “You’re my favorite person,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You’re the hottest man in the world,” you said just as quietly, your fingers scratching down his back, his wings rippling behind him.
The laugh that rumbled through him made your head spin, and his hips move faster. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” he countered, smiling lovingly down at you.
“I was staring at your ass when you slung me over your shoulder,” you admitted.
“I stare at your ass whenever you leave the room,” he grinned, bending down to nip playfully at your neck, his hips not breaking his steady rhythm.
You gasped, swatting his arm. “You do not!”
“I do,” he laughed, kissing your neck.
“I thought you were a gentleman!” you said mockingly.
He looked at you pointedly, slamming his hips into yours more forcefully. The sound that escaped from your throat was filthy.
“I guess you’re learning a lot about me tonight,” he teased, his eyes sparkling.
You rolled your eyes playfully before wrapping a hand around the back of his head, twisting your fingers through his hair as you brought his mouth down to yours.
You didn’t speak again until some time later, when he was holding you close, your legs entwined, your head resting on his bare chest, his wings enveloping you in their warmth.
Idly, you drew shapes and patterns onto his skin with your fingertip. He shivered. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” you whispered, your eyes fixed on your finger, moving to trace over his tattoos, too afraid to look at his expression.
His arms tightened around you and he kissed the top of your head. “I’ve been in love with you since I met you.”
Your gaze flicked to him, your eyes wide. He smiled softly down at you. “You have?"
He kissed you gently in response. “How could I not be?” he whispered.
Your bottom lip trembled and he ran his thumb across it. “Don’t cry,” he murmured.
That made you cry. He laughed, his wings wrapping tighter around the two of you, shielding you from the world.
“Such a softie,” he teased, lifting your chin to press a sweet kiss to your mouth.
You grumbled adamantly, burying your face in his chest.
The two of you laid in companionable silence for a while before he broke it. “You’re going to do your stretches from now on, right?”
“If this is the treatment I get when I don’t do them? Absolutely not,” you grinned.
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