#//and that I hope you're all doing well! đŸ©”
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transheterochromia · 2 days ago
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Paraphilia ask game! (Requested)
Having a paraphilia does NOT make you a danger. If you (generally) don't like the questions, scroll past! (OP is pro cc AND A RADQUEER). Coming up with para specific questions was difficult! I hope these suffice <3/p
General para questions:
❀: What manner do you most experience with your paraphilias? (Platonic, romantic, sexual, aesthetic, etc!)
🧡: What is your 'number one' paraphilia that you experience?
💛: List your paraphilias (that you're comfortable sharing)!!
💚: How did you figure out your attraction (in whatever manner) was paraphilic?
đŸ©”: What paraphilias do you personally not have but understand why someone else may have/want it?
đŸ—ș themed questions:
💙: What's your AOA (if comfortable sharing)
💜: How long have you ID'd as a đŸ—ș?
đŸ€Ž: What term related to your paraphilia do you prefer people use for you? (map/yap/yaa/pedo/etc)!
đŸ–€: What made you comfortable enough with the community / otherwise to be open about being a đŸ—ș?
đŸŸ themed questions:
đŸ€: What is your preferred species?
đŸ©·: Tell us about your favorite pet you've had! (If you haven't had a pet, what pet would you like to have?)
💘: Do you ID with terms like therian/otherkin/transspecies? Does this affect your paraphilia, and if so, how?
💝: Do you have a very niche attraction (species-wise) that you don't see other đŸŸs talk about much/at all?
⚰ themed questions:
💗: What is your favorite decomp stage?
💓: Do you find interest in / also have erotophonophilia (paraphilic attraction to murder) or any other 'related' paras?
💞: What part of the dead do you find the most attractive?
💕: Do you find interest in / attraction to animal corpses / bones as well as (or instead of) human?
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oro-junestar · 2 days ago
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đŸ«”YOU!!!đŸłïžâ€đŸŒˆđŸłïžâ€âš§ïžđŸ’–
You look like you need some kind, positive affirmations!! Come heređŸ€—đŸ«‚
Apologies for the massive wall of text ahead, I hope that this is worth the read and you find comfort in these affirmations👉👈💞
❀You are welcome here. You have entire communities all around the world full of people who are in the same boat as you, who support you, and who are always fighting for your human rights. We're all here for you and we love you. 🧡Always reach out for help and support when you need it. Don't let anxiety get in the way; your mind often tells you scary things that aren't true. The truth is, you are deserving of happiness and whatever it takes to achieve that happiness. 💛Don't be ashamed of the things that bring you joy. The world is your playground, you decide what matters to you! Be vibrant, be silly, wear your proudest smile! 💚It's okay to take breaks. Keep your mind and body healthy, and be at peace. Go outside often too; it's surprising how therapeutic it is to sit or walk in nature for a while! 💙Online trolls don't matter. They are lesser than you and are jealous of your joy. Don't reward them with your attention, you have better things to do with your time. TERFs and fascists can seethe all they want; you are stronger than them and you will outlive their rotten ideology! 💜There is no such thing as "not queer enough". Don't let what others think get in the way of you being your best self, you are welcome here! And if you're an ally, whether you're here for the whole community or just that one special queer person in your life, I sincerely thank you for your support, you are welcome too!
đŸ©”Don't ever lose hope. As long as we all give our best effort, things will get better, no matter how long it takes. Times are scary right now, but we must keep fighting for a future that's not scary. đŸ©·You are not obligated to tell anyone the full details of your gender, why you're trans, or your entire transition plan. Often, it's difficult to put these things into words, and that's okay, you don't owe anyone these explanations. You don't have to tell anyone your deadname or any details about your body either; those are private! đŸ€Be trans your own way! Whether you medically transition or not, whether you conform to traditional standards of your gender or not, you're doing it right as long as you're happy! đŸ©·Live to be a beacon of hope for those around you who need it. Seeing you shine with joy, others will know that they are safe and welcome too. Someone might find comfort in you the same way you might find comfort in this post. Your presence matters! đŸ©”If you are still waiting to come out of the closet or move out of a hostile situation, I hope that things go well for you once you do. No matter what happens, stay strong, keep holding onto hope, and remember that you have control over your own life. Don't give up!
💛Your gender is as real as the warmth in your heart and the smile on your face. đŸ€You know yourself better than anyone else. You decide who you are; no one else does. They don't have to understand you completely in order to support you. 💜'Silly' genders and labels are valid too! Labels ultimately aren't all that important; people define labels, not the other way around! Whether you want alot of labels or very few, express yourself in ways that bring you joy, don't be afraid to have fun with it! đŸ–€You are wonderful the way you are and you will continue to grow and improve, as long as you keep doing your very best!
Thank you for reading!! I love you and I hope that this has helped you! I hope you have a wonderful day! Take care of yourself💖
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kingspuppet · 9 months ago
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Life's been a little hectic so being on here has taken a major backseat. :') Sorry for those that are waiting on things (IC and OOC). My activity is probably gonna continue to be super sporadic and random for a bit. So thanks everyone for being super patient with me. đŸ©”
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rebornofstars · 3 months ago
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:v This doesn't make much sense I'm a bit tired but I read what you said and it struck a chord with me. So here:
About your post about looking back and not being happy with the things you've previously done. I get it. I think a lot of people get it. Especially when it is memorialized in some way to the public.
I see it like a photograph of myself. All the art I have made is a snapshot of who I was a month ago, a week ago, a year ago. It is a window into moment where I was someone I will never be again. Maybe I could have done something different, something that is so obvious to me now, but I didn't. And that's alright isn't it? I was doing the best I could do and now I can do better. And oh it was hard! It is hard to make things now and it was hard to make things then. Or maybe it wasn't but it took effort and thought and time. And because of that is was a success! Like you said, it was fun, it is done it exists. And you made it. Which is very important. You did it! And now you can do it better. But you can't hold that improvement against the person who brought you there. You made that and that is a very precious thing.
Anyways take care. Hope you're doing better.
i never thought about it that way. you're very wise, anon. i should not hold my past self accountable for failing to live up to a future it didn't know about.
this is also making me realise that i'll never be able to give someone a accurate depiction of my current progress unless i share what i make in the present. it's hard to be that vulnerable. because the editing process never stops, right? it's never ready. but it's also never going to be perfect. eventually you just leave it where it is and start something new with what you've learnt. i guess i have to stop waiting endlessly to my future self to improve things. there's no finish line to that. i have to learn to trust myself.
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reshinless · 2 months ago
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Hiii, it's me again, I'm here to ask abt kinich- anyways, Reader is kind of insecure and self conscious and she's dating kinich, and she sees how good mualani is to kinich and starts to ask herself if she should actually be with him (+I would appreciate it you somehow turn this into smut because I'm a dog for himđŸ€­)
NSFW CONTENT AHEAD UTC.
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you knew kinich was close with her too, but you couldn't help but feel like you weren't as good as she was.
you saw the way she looked at him, what were you supposed to do? you knew she'd never pursue someone in a relationship but she always asked about your relationship with kinich.. was she hoping you'd break up?
well i'll be glad to answer that no she does not! but ill explain more later.
you continued to feel like you weren't a good partner, therefore distancing yourself from the man you fell in love with.
maybe he was better off with her. or at least so you thought. you see, mualanj was giving him advice on how to treat you, she always smiled whenever her and kinich spoke about it.. because.. well.. it was funny to her how he doesn't know how to talk to you.
you have barely had your first kiss with him, and he's never had anyone else like you before.. so he had to ask a professional (mualani plus her 0 relationship experience advice)
"just remember to make them feel at home! you notice if they've been sad or anything recently?" mualani puts up her surfboard up on a tree, sitting on the soft grains of sand on the beach.
"i.. feel like they've been running away from me.. did i do anything wrong?"
mualani realized immediately why you'd distance yourself; you were jealous. kinich has a dense sense for romance, so he wouldn't notice immediately unless.. well professional couplw therapist mualani ensures it doesn't happen again!
once kinich realizes what he's done, he goes to find you as soon as possible. not even hearing out more of mualani's words. she was sure you both would figure it out anyway.
but trust me kinich is quick on his feet to tell you how you're everything to him.
when you tell him you didn't believe him.. well i guess he just had to show you.
kinich who learned a few things from the books mualani threw at him, she didn't realize one of them was basically sex in a book, as he read on, he wanted to try out a specific scene.
laid out in front of him, taking his gloves off carefully tossing them to the side. prepping your hole for him to treat you good. your wetness already all over his fingers as he added another digit progressively.
he who hums into your ear, hearing how well you whimpered, and whined out his name. he could only praise you for how good you took him.
your cunt sucked him inside so well, the sounds of pleasure echoed throughout the hallway in the gap of the unlocked door.
your walls started to tighten around his cock, but that wouldn't stop him from penetrating you. he'd make sure by tonight that no one other than you could make him cum.
kinich who likes to put you into a mating press, your legs held high above your head, he slaps the soft skin of your ass, before laying a kiss onto your wet cunt, mixed with cum of your own and his.
kinich will make sure you know that he loves you more than anyone else. and he wants you to do the same (not that you weren't already doing that.)
but when its all over, his words are sweet, learning a thing or two from whatever mualani discussed with him. clearing the air on why he had been talking to mualani more recently.
he just meant to ask her about advice on what to get you for your next anniversary đŸ©”
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ellecdc · 9 months ago
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Love, i hope youre staying hydrated đŸ©”
A poly!wolfstar idea that lives rent free is that Rem, for lack of a better word, hoards Siri and Reader as it gets closer to the fullmoon/ a specific type of moon. Like a dragon. Hes so openly, aggressively affectionate too and is much more likely to mamhandle them
thank you all for constantly reminding me to drink more water - you're my heroes.
poly!WolfStar x fem!reader
CW: territorial boyfriend, slight jealousy, dom/sub dynamics if you squint but SFW
You weren’t hiding. Not really...
But you were also sort of kind of definitely hiding.
You loved your boyfriends, both of them, so damn much. And for the majority of the month, it was Sirius driving the two of you up the wall (affectionately). But as the night of the full moon dragged closer and closer, you and Sirius could hardly move without Remus’ sights set on you.
Most of the time, you and Sirius handled Moony’s obsession quite well in your humble opinion; you usually relished in his neediness and all the affection he showered on you. 
But exam season was around the corner, and you were currently hanging on by a thread.
Anything and everything that could have gone wrong today did; you got a run in your sheer tights at breakfast, you only received an acceptable on your most recent essay for Charms, you dropped your potion during class which spilt on your shoes, and you forgot your textbook for Transfiguration which earned you house points and detention.
So, you loved Remus – truly, you would die for him – but you needed to get this redraft of your essay for Potions finished (using the corrections you received on your dreadful Charms essay) and you could not deal with Sirius’ non-stop flirting and joking which you knew you’d have to deal with if you let Remus drag you up to his dorm room as he wont to do.
So, you were hiding.
Definitely hiding.
In the furthest corner in the library that you could manage which was probably not the best hiding place from the studious, book-loving lycanthrope – but you were too desperate to be making effective plans right now.
You probably should have tried a little harder.
“There you are.” Remus’ lilting voice floated to you in your little corner of solitude. 
“Hey, Moons.” You called quietly as he approached you and placed a searing kiss to your lips, his hand at the nape of your neck keeping your head in place for him.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were avoiding me.” He whispered against your lips with a smirk.
Your face flooded with heat at the prospect of being caught, but Remus just chuckled and pressed another kiss to your lips before he pulled back and took a seat beside you. 
“Where’s Sirius?” You asked.
Remus looked at you from the corner of his eye as he pulled out a book from his bag. “Practice, why?”
You felt your shoulders drop in relief at the idea that you may actually be able to finish this essay before Sirius came to (lovingly) distract you.
Remus hummed at you as a grin grew across his face. “Ah, perhaps it’s not necessarily me you’re avoiding?”
Your face heated again at the mortifying ordeal of being known.
“I love him, I love you, I love you both, but I-” 
“Hey,” Remus interrupted what was quickly becoming an increasingly panicked tangent as he slid his hand into yours. “It’s okay dovey, you do what you need to do. I’ll try to control myself and keep Sirius busy, okay?”
And Remus kept his word...mostly.
He had his hand on you at all times: it started with your hand in his before you needed to pull it away to flip through your parchment, which became a solid grip on your thigh as he continued reading before that hand began to migrate further up your thigh and tease around the bottom of your skirt to which you whined “Moony” at and pushed his hand away. 
It was when Remus - apparently provoked by some younger Hufflepuff allegedly “making googly eyes at you” from across the aisle - hauled you into his lap and began nipping at your neck that you decided you had gotten all the revising you were going to get done today, done.
“Hungry, dove?” He asked into your neck.
You wanted to roll your eyes, but the way his hands wrapped around your middle to envelop you in a sweet hug as he murmured into the crook of your neck made you melt a little.
“Yeah.”
You could feel him smile against your skin and press one more kiss to it before he was helping you off of his lap and packing your things up. “Let’s go to dinner then.”
Remus held your hand and carried your bag all the way to the Great Hall before all but seating you himself and pressing himself up against your side on the bench of the Gryffindor table.
Lily smirked at you from her place before ensuring no one around could hear her.
“If I hadn’t known it was Remus’ time of the month already, this would have solidified it for me.” She said with a salacious wink.
You tried to glare at her, but Remus took that moment to shove his face back into the crook of your neck causing you to flush and duck your head shyly.
You heard boisterous laughing at the entrance to the Great Hall as the Gryffindor quidditch team made their way in from their practice.
You smirked at the sight, specifically Sirius, who had obviously showered - his hair was still damp, and his cheeks were still flushed a pretty pink from the adrenaline of his flight.
A gruff moan from your boyfriend seated beside you alerted you to his shared appreciation of the scenery.
However, Sirius flashed the two of you a smirk and a wink before following McKinnon over to the Ravenclaw table where Dorcas was sitting with Pandora.
Remus tensed slightly but settled for pulling your closer into his side.
It didn’t last long, however, when a particular bark of laughter garnered yours and Remus’ attention only to find Sirius talking to a Ravenclaw girl everyone knew had a raging crush on him.
Now, it’s important to note that Sirius was not deceitful nor disloyal to you and Remus, but he was mischievous and... bratty... sometimes.
Usually, you and Remus would scoff and laugh, and he’d tell you he would deal with this later causing Sirius to pout and whine, begging for attention – but today Remus immediately rose from his seat and grabbed both of your book bags, calling over a hasty “let’s go dove” as he stalked over to the Ravenclaw table to throw your shared boyfriend over his shoulder and stalk up to Gryffindor tower. 
You knew Sirius was going to pay for it tonight. 
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cutielando · 3 months ago
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Hi can I request simp!charles leclerc x actress!reader like tom holland and zendaya kind of relationship plz
just us | c.l.
social media au
a/n: i don't know if this is exactly what you had in mind, but i hope you like it
my masterlist
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liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and 2,140,385 others
yourusername me lately <3
view all 201,485 comments
charles_leclerc so beautiful😍😍
charles_leclerc you're a Goddess
charles_leclerc date me 😍😍😍
yourusername i am????
charles_leclerc sexy😭😭
user1 never thought i would see the day where Charles would become such a simp for his girlfriend
user2 can you blame him??? she's gorgeous
charles_leclerc exactly, can you blame me??
user1 charles 😭😭😭😭
pierregasly he's giggling and kicking his feet rn
yourusername awwww😭
charles_leclerc why would you expose me like that?
pierregasly she needs to know the truth about you
user3 charles leclerc, vroom vroom guy, dating THE Y/N?? impossibleđŸ„ŽđŸ„Ž
charles_leclerc actually, very possible and accurate
landonorris he won't stop yapping about you
charles_leclerc i don't yap
carlossainz55 you do
pierregasly you invented yapping
oscarpiastri you never shut up about her
georgerussell63 we know her as well as you do
charles_leclerc OKAY WE GET IT
yourusername AWW CHARLIE 😭😭😭 it's okay, i love your yapping
carmenmmundt gorgeous gal đŸ«¶đŸ»đŸ«¶đŸ»
yourusername staaaaawp ily❀
charles_leclerc um?????
georgerussell63 just get used to it, there's nothing we can do
carmenmmundt good boy george :)
user4 the fact that Charles is finally happy and comfortable enough in a relationship to share his love with us makes me so happy 😭
user5 what do you mean? what about his past relationships?
user4 he's said before that he didn't feel as comfortable in his past relationships as he feels now and that being with Y/N has changed him for the better and makes him feel like a better man
user6 that's actually so cute :(((
francisca.cgomes OMFG YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL BABY đŸ˜­â€ïž
yourusername i love you so much <333
pierregasly can you please stop stealing our girlfriends?
yourusername no <3
scuderiaferrari ❀ liked by charles_leclerc
lilyzneimer đŸ©”
yourusername ly lils <3
lilyzneimer lyt💘
oscarpiastri seriously? her too?
yourusername i’m irresistible
lilymhe gorgeous âŁïž
yourusername ilyyyyyy<3
alex_albon i'm gorgeous too
lilymhe of course you are, babe
charles_leclerc don't even bother, i've tried
yourusername good boy
user7 the relationship between the drivers and wags and y/n is my favorite thing in the world😭😭😭
user8 your honor, i love herđŸ«¶đŸ»đŸ’˜
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liked by yourusername, landonorris and 3,193,275 others
charles_leclerc forever in awe of everything that you do and everything that you are❀i love you so much tagged: yourusername
view all 391,485 comments
yourusername charlieeeeeee😭😭😭😭
yourusername i love you so much❀
yourusername you're the best boyfriend i could have ever asked forđŸ«¶đŸ»đŸ«¶đŸ»đŸ«¶đŸ»đŸ«¶đŸ»đŸ«¶đŸ»đŸ«¶đŸ»đŸ«¶đŸ»đŸ«¶đŸ»đŸ«¶đŸ»
charles_leclerc best boyfriend award?
yourusername you know it đŸ«¶đŸ»đŸ«¶đŸ»
user1 i want what they have 😭😭
landonorris simp
yourusername at least he has someone to simp over😁
landonorris that’s rude
charles_leclerc it’s also true
landonorris don’t remember asking your opinion
carmenmmundt my gal !!! đŸ«¶đŸ»đŸ«¶đŸ»
yourusername ly!!!❀
lilymhe gorgeous!!!❀
yourusername staaawpâ˜čâ˜čâ˜č
lilyzneimer charles is one lucky man đŸ«¶đŸ»đŸ«¶đŸ»
yourusername awww lils â˜č❀
alex_albon why is your girlfriend stealing our girlfriends?
yourusername cause i'm better than all of you
charles_leclerc i don't even try anymore
oscarpiastri are they even our girlfriends at this point?
georgerussell63 we'll be left single if things progress from here
yourusername who says you aren't already? ;)
user2 they are the IT couple😭😭
user3 my parentsđŸ„ČđŸ„Č❀❀❀❀
oscarpiastri you're whipped, my man
charles_leclerc you're one to talk
yourusername boys, behave
user4 i think everyone can agree that they’re the best couple on the entire internet ❀❀
user5 they have a hold on me they shouldn’t have 😭
user6 the cutest couple ❀
kendalljenner you're glowing, so proud of you ❀
yourusername thank you, ken ❀❀❀
francisca.cgomes i see you've been taking my advice, Charles
yourusername ????? what advice?
charles_leclerc she told me i should dress more appropriately so i am suitable to be at your arm
pierregasly babe, we talked about this..
francisca.cgomes shhhhhhh, look how cute they look now
yourusername um????? thanks???
scuderiaferrari Our one and only couple! ❀
iamrebeccad what about us?????
scuderiaferrari uh...
charles_leclerc you're on your own for this
carlossainz55 well done, cabron. never believed you had it in you
charles_leclerc ...to support my girlfriend?
carlossainz55 to have one :)
charles_leclerc ...
yourusername LOL
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liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 1,592,684 others
yourusername taking some well-deserved time off with my one and only ❀ tagged: charles_leclerc
view all 98,184 comments
charles_leclerc you're so beautiful❀❀❀
charles_leclerc there is nobody i would rather spend my holidays with❀
charles_leclerc madly in love with you❀❀
yourusername staaaaaaawp
yourusername i love you so freaking much ❀❀❀❀❀
landonorris you make me gag
yourusername bro stop commenting on my posts
landonorris you will never silence me
user1 they're so cute man 😭😭
user2 i need a relationship like theirsđŸ˜­â€ïž
joris_trouche please stop making me feel uncomfortable
yourusername awwwww, are you jelly, joris?😝
joris_trouche disgusted, more likely
charles_leclerc we know you love us though
joris_trouche seriously starting to question that
user3 where is leo?â˜čâ˜čâ˜č
yourusername he is in Monaco with Charles' mother!! he was feeling a bit under the weather so we decided he would feel better if he stayed at homeâ˜č
user4 leo is sick :((((((
user5 the fact that i care more about this couple and their dog than my own well-being is concerning😭😭
user6 I LOVE IT LOL
carlossainz55 i thought you said you weren’t going on holiday without me?
yourusername um, charles_leclerc?
charles_leclerc i’m pleading the fifth
carlossainz55 you’re not even American???
user7 i love the chaos in the comments
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comments and re-blogs help us grow!
much appreciated!!
REQUEST HERE
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nickfowlerrr · 4 months ago
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when you’re ready, come and get it
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GIF by spaceslayer
pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: no explicit smut. sexual content. some fluff. 18+ only.
words: 4.7k
notes: another random two am fic drop - who’s surprised? the starting dialogue of this fic had been sitting in my docs for almost two years and i finally got around to actually writing something for it lol. i hope you like it! thank you in advance for reading. as always, any comments and reblogs are always welcomed and so appreciated. let me know your thoughts! đŸ©”
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Your back is sore as you head toward the door of the cramped little apartment you’re stuck in for the night.
Safe ‘house’ your ass.
“You had to use all the hot water?” Bucky yells from the bathroom you exited only minutes ago. You smirk to yourself and roll your eyes as you reach for the handle of the front door, “You’ll live,” you yell back, letting the closing of the door behind you signal your exit.
You’re in sweats and a long sleeve, sneakers on your feet and your phone in your pocket as you begin the short walk to the Chinese restaurant just down the street from the building you're staying in.
It’s been a long, grueling day and you are starving.
The further down the street you get, the closer the smell of the food - it keeps you moving despite the aches that are wrecking your body. Unsurprisingly, getting shoulder tackled by a super soldier leaves you a little worse for wear.
You almost groan out loud at the thought of him.
You have no idea how you’re going to get through this night.
It’s dark out, but the street lights gleaming off the wet pavement and the storefront signs of the few places still open light your way. At least it stopped raining.
You recognize the name of the shop, stop in front of the door and head in. The entrance bell jingles and a young man comes out from the back to greet you. You give him your name and only have to wait a minute before he comes back with the bag of food you ordered before your shower.
Your stomach growls as you start back down to the apartment.
All you want to do is climb into that bed, pop some advil, scarf down this food, and hopefully sleep off the pain you can feel creeping up your body, slowly but surely.
Your hunger again encourages your speed and before you can get lost in any thoughts, you’re back at the front door.
You unlock it and unthinkingly push it open with your shoulder. You grimace and bite back a growl at the pain that radiates up your neck and down your arm, and at the memory of being sent flying into trunks and boxes lining a cement wall, which you also ended up colliding with.
You sigh and shut the door, locking it behind you. You set the food down on the dark wooden table in the area you call the kitchen. You begin to take the containers out before you turn around to face the bed.
Your eyes narrow in on him instantly as annoyance surges in your veins at the sight before you.
“What are you doing?” you ask sharply, an accusation in your tone.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he replies without looking up from the tablet he’s working on. His hair is damp, a mess of dark brown he keeps behind his ears and out of his face. His brows are furrowed as he reads, all the while he’s laying with his ankles crossed, relaxing on the bed shirtless with his grey sweats low on his hips. Fucking hell.
You bite your tongue, fighting the scowl threatening to take over your face.
“Laying down in my bed, that’s what it looks like.”
“Who said it was your bed?” he challenges, finally looking up at you.
“I did. Just now. And also when we first got here two hours ago,” you point out.
“Well, it’s a good thing you have absolutely no authority over me, then, huh,” he smirks tauntingly as he tosses the tablet to the side.
“Get out of the bed, Barnes.”
“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, sweetheart, but I’m not moving.”
He crosses his arms like a defiant toddler, his blue eyes almost twinkling with a dare to challenge him, self assured as he always is in your arguments. You lick your lip,
“I mean it, I’m not getting on the floor.”
He shrugs, “Don’t care. Not my problem.”
You can feel your skin getting hot from your irritation and your neck straining as you tense. You really aren’t in the mood for this. You can’t fight right now.
Well
you could. But you won’t. You have food to eat, you can argue who sleeps where later.
You shake your head and roll your eyes, “Jackass.”
You ignore him and walk into the bathroom without closing the door behind you. You wet your hands for a second under the sink water and then pump the sweet smelling soap into them, lathering up and washing your hands. Despite the sound of the running water, you can clearly hear the crinkling of the plastic bag that contains the food as you imagine Bucky is sorting through it all. You finish washing and turn the water back off.
“Don’t touch my lo mein,” you warn him, voice raised as you dry your hands on a towel.
You lean your head out past the door and see him as he twirls some noodles from your container.
“Jackass!” you accuse, throwing the towel down and marching from the bathroom right toward him.
“Don’t be greedy,” he chastises through his bite before grabbing his own container, unphased by your reproach.
“Greedy? As if you don’t have your own food.”
“Sharing is caring,” he taunts before he walks back over to the bed.
Your eyes follow him in disbelief. He sits back in his spot and makes himself comfortable. You scoff before turning back to the table. You grab your opened container and the pack of utensils the restaurant gave you and walk over to the bed, too. You feel Bucky’s eyes on you as you get to the other side of the bed.
“I told you I’m not moving.”
“And I told you I’m not sleeping on the floor. You can do whatever the hell you want.”
“So we’re sharing, then?” he asks. The smile pulling at the corner of his lips is easily pushed aside by you. You don’t want to read into it, so you won’t.
You twirl some lo mein and take a bite, “Sharing is caring,” you echo him as you make yourself comfortable.
You lean over and grab the remote to the 40 inch television hung on the wall across from you. You can complain about the tight quarters and the singular bed, but at least the place is relatively liveable. The tv was a surprise, but welcomed.
You leave it on the channel it lights up on, reruns of some procedural you’ve seen a hundred times over.
You eat in uncharacteristic silence, but every so often you can feel Bucky’s eyes on you. You don’t return his gaze, instead staying focused on your food and trying not to show your discomfort when the pain in your shoulder and neck blooms deeper as the night goes on. You’re grateful he seems to be worn from the mission, too. If he wasn’t, you know he’d have found something to pick with you about by now.
An hour passes and you’re both done with your food. You throw your trash away and head to the bathroom. You leave the door open as you brush your teeth and Bucky enters just as you finish. He watches you intently as you take a pain pill before shoving the bottle, along with the rest of your toiletries, back in your bag. Still, he’s quiet. You would normally call him out for his silence and staring, but you don’t have it in you to start something right now.
You turn to walk out of the bathroom and accidentally bump into him as he moves to step toward the sink.
You hiss at the pain it sends through you, so quiet that had it been anyone else, they wouldn’t have even noticed the sound that escaped you. But this wasn’t anyone else.
You don’t stop walking after you bump into him, just head back toward the bed without pause. Trying to act like nothing happened and that you are perfectly fine. Which you are! Aside from the stabbing pain radiating up and down your arm... you’re good.
You pull the comforter out all around the bed - better to avoid any tugging and pulling in front of Bucky if you can.
As you’re about to climb onto the bed, Bucky emerges from the bathroom. Still shirtless, still oddly silent. It’s starting to get a little unnerving now.
Slowly, you lay down, being careful not to move too fast and doing your best to not move your arm too much.
Bucky gets into bed beside you. You don’t want to, yet you can’t help but notice how gingerly he climbs in. As if he’s trying to make as little movement as possible.
You try to get comfortable, it’s not the first time you’ve had to share a bed on a mission, but with Bucky there’s always that extra heat
tension. Your pointless arguing about who will sleep where, both of you knowing you’ll end up sharing again only to vow the next morning to get the bed to yourself the next time you find yourselves in this situation, it’s damn near routine now. And yet, the tension remains. And the pain you’re feeling isn’t helping in the slightest.
Neither is his shirtlessness. He’s always like a furnace but somehow it feels like he’s radiating even more heat without the barrier of a shirt. You’d love to pull off your own, but the tightness in your shoulder would definitely protest the motion.
“You alright?”
Bucky’s voice breaks the silence. His tone is soft, voice quiet, but it still startles you a bit, catches you off guard.
“Uhm,” you breathe, hesitating, “I, uhm
 ‘m fine,” you whisper back. His eyes are on you, you can feel them, but you don’t turn to look back at him.
A beat.
“Would you mind getting the light?” you ask in the same hushed tone.
Another beat.
The bed creaks a bit as Bucky gets up without a word.
The light cuts out and the television is the only thing left glowing in the darkened space of the studio.
He gets back into the bed, being just as careful as he was before, and grabs the remote you left in the space between you. He shuts off the tv and you take a breath, relaxing a bit now that you know he can’t really see you all too well.
You grimace as you readjust your head and shoulders under the pillow.
Ow.
You lay in silence. In pain and discomfort.

You have some arnica in your bag you could roll on, but that would give you away in a second. You could roll onto your side but then you’d be facing Bucky and you don’t want to make things awkward
er.
You wait a few minutes before you peek over to him in the dark. From what you can tell, his eyes are closed, his breathing seems steady
 Fuck it, you think. Whether he’s sleeping or not, you don’t want to feel this any longer than you have to. You quietly push the comforter off of yourself, kicking it off your feet, and delicately roll yourself up.
You keep the layout of the space in mind as you navigate around in the dark. You’re tiptoeing carefully, hopeful you haven’t accidentally woken him up as a floorboard creaks beneath you when you get to the table you left your bag on.
You find your toiletries bag and feel around until your hands grasp your roll-on. You walk lightly back over to the bed where you sit down.
You unscrew the cap and start rolling the cooling bliss up your neck and on your shoulder - the small part of it that’s exposed by your shirt, at least.
You sigh to yourself and loosely put the cap back on, dropping the bottle beside you.
Fuck it, you think again. Shirt’s comin’ off.
As soon as the material of your long sleeve is over your head, the lights come back on, eliciting a harsh gasp from you as you jerk your head in the direction of the light switches.
“Fucking hell, Bucky!” You chastise as you bring a hand up to rub at your neck. You moved too quickly when the lights came on and now a new wave of tension stabs at your neck and shoulder once more.
How the hell he managed to get out of the bed and across the room without you hearing is beyond you, but you aren’t really all that surprised.
“So when you said you were fine,” he walks back over to the bed, “what you meant was..?”
“Was that I’m fine,” you repeat yourself firmly, head downcast as you keep your back to him.
The smallest bit of self consciousness flares inside of you as you realize you’re in only a bra and sweats as he’s free to scan your body behind you, but you quickly decide you don’t care. You’re more focused on the strain and his apparent concern for you.
The bed moves and you feel the roll on being grabbed from beside your thigh. Bucky is right behind you now; you feel yourself freeze and inadvertently tense even more.
You inhale sharply as his hand meets your skin. You don’t move as his finger slips down the strap of your bra. You listen intently as he unscrews the cap and you sigh again as he moves the arnica roll on up and over your shoulder, just slightly down the slope of it, and then back up toward your neck as you let your arm relax, and then your head as you tilt it in the opposite direction to allow him more access to your neck. God, that feels good.
“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” he says quietly.
You furrow your brow. “I know that.”
“We didn’t have time, I wasn’t thinking,” he starts.
“I was directly in their line of fire, Bucky, I know.” You reach back and take the bottle from him, he lets you as you keep your gaze in front of you and your back to him. “Is that why you’ve been so quiet?” you laugh softly, “You felt bad about pushing me?”
You screw the cap back on and toss it, along with your shirt, gently to the floor beside you.
“I’m sorry,” he says, ignoring your questions.
“You don’t have to be sorry.” You finally turn to face him, moving your whole body, bringing a knee up on the bed as you climb back onto the mattress. “You saved my life
again,” you add. “Thank you.”
Bucky scoffs as he sits back on his haunches, still facing you. The mentholy smell of the arnica rub is thick in the air, but you don’t mind it. You look at him, his hair still a mess, his normally icy blue eyes just the tiniest bit darker now. You force yourself to look away before your gaze once again drifts down to his solid chest.
You huff as you lay back down in your spot. The roll on and the advil you took earlier are helping with the pain, but the tightness is still bothersome.
“Still?” Bucky asks with a raised brow.
You roll your eyes. “Not all of us have super healing abilities, Barnes.”
His tongue mindlessly wets his lips as he considers you. “Turn over,” he tells you, his long hidden Brooklyn accent making its rare appearance. Your lips twitch at the sound. One of the reasons you enjoy arguing with him so often is because of that damn voice. His accent gets thicker when you’re in your back and forths
 You’re hit with realization then of what he just said and you’re sure your confusion is written clear as day on your face as you give him a look,
“Sorry?”
“Turn over,” he repeats.
“Wha-,” you titter nervously, looking up at him as he stays on his knees next to you. “Why?” you question.
“Would you just listen to me for once? Turn over before I turn you over,” he orders.
You ignore the tingle in your belly
and lower, at his instruction and the easy air of authority his voice so effortlessly holds. Half the time it irritates you, but the other half, though you try to push it away, gets you feeling like this.
You swallow thickly and blink away from his intent gaze before you slowly move to turn yourself over without causing any pain.
You take a shaky breath you hope he doesn’t notice as you adjust yourself, trying not to smother your face in the pillow.
You’re not sure what he’s going to do, your body is buzzing with the unknown, your nerves are on edge, but here you are following his orders nonetheless.
The bed shifts as Bucky moves closer and you don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you feel his touch again. You shudder as he lets his hand ghost from your trap, over your shoulder, and down your arm. The bed shifts again as Bucky straddles you. You can feel his warmth radiating off of him, his knees on either side of your body.
“Tell me if you want me to stop.”
You breathe, and stay quiet. Bucky waits a moment longer before he continues.
It starts slow, his touch soft yet firm as his hands massage you. Your eyes close without your permission as you exhale a heavy breath. This is good. Really good. His hands are like magic as he applies just the right amount of pressure to your back. He works a tight spot and another heavy breath leaves you.
Oh fuck
 that wasn’t a heavy breath.
That was a moan.
It doesn’t stop him, but you, you’re mortified. Your eyes snap open and you hurriedly try to push yourself up. It’s to no avail. Bucky keeps you down easily with just one hand on your back, the other lightly squeezing your shoulder. Your heart is going to beat out of your chest. You don’t really know what it is you’re feeling right now, but you think it might just be the end of you.
He’s essentially on top of you. and he’s warm. and strong. and even beneath him, he smells so damn good.
You don’t feel helpless often, but right now, under Bucky, being kept in place like this by him, you do. Like prey caught by a predator

Except you don’t feel scared.
Embarrassed, but not scared.
In fact with Bucky, you always feel safe, protected. Like earlier today. He had your back, he was watching out for you, like he always does, whether you’re fighting or not. He’s always there.
He squeezes your shoulder soothingly just a bit more, “Relax,” he eases, his thumb rubbing into your tight muscle. You force yourself to breathe again and relax back down into the bed.
You do feel a little helpless, but god help you, you think you like it.
“This is okay?” he asks, voice deeper now as he starts massaging your back again, working a little deeper.
It takes you a second to voice your affirmation, and it comes out as more of a deep hum, but he takes it.
Your lashes flutter once more and you sigh, another soft moan slipping from you as Bucky adds slightly more pressure. His hands move a little lower as he works at the tension in your back, and he leans in a little closer as he speaks again.
“This okay?” he rasps in your ear.
Your breath hitches as you slacken even deeper into the bed.
“Yes,” you murmur headily. It’s not just from his touch, it’s that it’s his touch. You’ve done this dance with him before, but you’ve never gotten quite this close. You’ve shared heated moments, wistful stares, lingering touches, almost kisses, hell you’ve woken up in his arms before on nights like this, but it’s never been quite like this.
The base of his palm rubs at a particularly tight spot. He massages you carefully
 and when you suddenly feel his lips press against the skin of your shoulder, you can’t help but whimper at the contact. You think maybe you’re imagining things, that his touch just feels so good it’s causing all these thoughts to run wild in your head

Then you feel his fingers brush against the band of your bra.
“Bucky
” you waver.
“Tell me to stop,” he breathes.
You don’t even give yourself a second to catch up before you respond.
“No,” you mew.
His hands squeeze your soft waist and his lips brush your skin gently. Another weak moan leaves you.
Bucky smoothly unclasps your bra and his hands ghost over your back as he pushes it off of you.
His touch falls to your hip where he takes hold of you once more. You can so easily feel his strength in his grip before he pulls you lightly to turn over toward him.
You do just that, slowly and carefully, until you find yourself right beneath him, his heavy lidded eyes set on you, his lips parted as he takes you in beneath him.
Your hands find the waistband of his sweats and you pull him closer to you. He lowers himself down and your noses brush as he comes in even closer. You’ve wanted this for so long. You breathe each other in for a moment before your eyes close and your lips finally touch. It’s soft and hesitant, just a single kiss. Then another. And another. And then all at once, it’s a whirlwind of fervency. Your hand is crawling in his hair as you hold him closer. You try to lean up into him, but he stops you and follows you back down until your head is resting on the pillow. You murmur your protest and you can feel Bucky’s smirk against your lips. He kisses you one more time, deep and lingering, before he finally pulls away. You’re breathing harder, looking up at him with nothing but want and desire swimming in your gaze.
He lifts a hand to rub at your shoulder gently and you sigh at the feeling.
“Feels better?”
“Yeah,” you breathe with a light nod.
“Good,” he breathes in turn. Your brows furrow in confusion when he moves from above you and instead lays down next to you on the bed. You had a different idea of where things were about to go

Your bra is halfway off and you don’t know whether you want to remove it completely or pull it back on. Oh god
 maybe this was all just a dream, your fantasy playing out all too realistically and tricking you.
While your mind is worrying itself, Bucky rolls onto his side, facing you, and gets your attention. His hand comes to rest on your lower tummy, smoothing over to your hip. “I didn’t realize you’d gotten hurt earlier,” his voice is low and sincere. “I really am sorry.”
You watch him bring his hand over to the strap of your bra, the cool metal chilling your skin as he drags it down your arm. You don’t stop him as he does, instead you let the other strap fall further down your arm before you pull it off altogether and drop it off the bed and onto the floor. He moves in closer to you and his eyes fall to your lips. He inches closer before kissing you again. His hand ghosts up your waist as you murmur against his lips, “‘s’okay,” you shake your head at his needless apology, kissing him back. His wandering hand cups your full breast and he kneads it, your nipples peaking at his attention. You moan into the kiss, getting a low groan from Bucky in turn as he deepens it, and you attempt to roll onto your side and into him to be even closer.
Again, Bucky easily stops your movement, gently pushing you back down, but not breaking the kiss as he follows you.
“Wha?” you mumble, pulling away from him, “What?”
You’re getting more confused and frustrated the longer this goes on.
He laughs and your eyes narrow at that goddamned smirk on his face.
“Look, sweetheart, as much as I’d love to take this further,” he simpers, bringing a hand to caress your cheek softly, “you’re hurt.”
“I’m fine,” you argue back.
“Just lay down,” he laughs again, “relax. You’re gonna be even more sore in the morning. You don’t need me making it worse.”
“I can take it,” you try to argue again, to defend yourself, really.
“I’m sure you can,” he allows with a soft smirk, “But if you’ve been feeling this between us for as long as I have, two more days of waiting ‘ll be nothing.”
You pout. “Right,” you say unbelievingly. You turn your head back so you’re facing the ceiling. “Tease,” you mutter under your breath - knowing full well he can hear you.
“Pot, meet kettle,” he scoffs.
You roll your eyes and let your head fall to the side to look at him again.
“You need sleep,” he says softly, leaning in close to you again. You reach to touch his face, his cheeks stubbly.
“Would you get the light?” you ask in the same tone.
Bucky leans in and places a chaste kiss on your lips. He hums quietly, licking his lips as he pulls away and sits up. “I’m gonna be kissing you all the time now, you know that, right?”
You breathe a laugh, smiling softly as you watch him get up and go turn off the lights.
You pull the comforter up and over yourself, keeping one foot out so as not to overheat too quickly.
Bucky shuts off the lights and gets back into the bed, sliding in next to you under the covers.
He gets comfortable in his spot and after a few seconds, you slowly inch closer to him. Your hand touches his as you both lay on your backs. You get closer until you finally decide to turn toward him. Sleeping on your side will be a lot more comfortable, and -
Bucky cuts off your train of thought as he suddenly, but gently, pulls you into him, allowing your head to rest on his chest as he keeps a protective arm around you.
“We both know we’re gonna wake up like this anyway,” he says, finishing your thought without knowing it.
You fight your smile as you curl into him, finding the most comfortable spot for both of you. The skin to skin contact is intimate and so natural, you don’t even give it a second thought as you start to drift off into sleep. You feel Bucky press a tender kiss on your forehead and the warmth that flows through you is undeniable.
Just like you two.
You’ve both known it for some time, you just never wanted to make the wrong move. But this is it, here and now.
Undeniable.
God, you’re getting too hot already. If this had been any other night from your past “sleepovers” you’d probably just try and deal. But tonight, and every night from now on if you’re lucky, is different. You move just a bit and Bucky doesn’t object. Slowly, you start shimmying down your sweats until you’re able to just kick them off under the covers. You were planning on losing them earlier anyway, why should you be self conscious now.
Plus, Bucky did accuse you of being a tease not fifteen minutes ago. If he thought anything you ever did before could come close to his touches tonight, he had no idea.
And Bucky’s right, you’ll be waking up like this come the morning no matter how you go to bed. You in his arms, in nothing but a pair of cute underwear, would certainly be a good morning. And then you’ll see how he really feels about waiting another day or two to finally be with each other the way you’ve been wanting for so long.
Now you know better than to underestimate Bucky’s patience, but telling from the bulge growing in his sweats as his hand wanders over your hip and squeezes your bottom while your fingers dance along his midsection, ghosting lower and lower as you feel his muscles tense
you think you might just get it sooner rather than later.
But either way, you smile softly, cuddling into Bucky as he pulls your body closer, you know you’ll both get what you want.
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733 notes · View notes
curtins · 18 days ago
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BORN TO DIE — Geto Suguru minors dni!
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prologue. → it's been three years since suguru left all you had ever known, crumbling it into the fine dust of the earth. a suspiciously timed mission from gojo leads you right into the arms of the man you swore to kill. well, fuck him right?
pairing. geto suguru x afab!reader
warnings+. implied/mild gojo x reader, lovers to enemies, or enemies to lovers, past relationship, injuries, mentions of blood, reader is lowkey violent, some establishing plot idk, geto is kind a jerk (well he's a cult leader so) but hes also down bad, making out, doing it raw and desparate (wrap it before yall tap it!), creĂĄmpie etc, minor mentions of infidelity, rĂ­de him until he sees stars trope, minor implied stsg, suguru lowkey a messy slĂșt for this <3 đŸ©”
word count. 4.5k song inspiration. born to die — lana del rey
a/n. heehee
mp3.. my heart it breaks every step that i take, but i'm hoping that the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine
ask to be added to a taglist! likes and reblogs appreciated <3
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fuck suguru geto.
literally.
it had been days of you tracking down a mere rumour of curses that haunted this side of the mountain, and you know you're close — close enough to feel the cold prickling along your skin, ripe with cursed energy with that taste of something unnatural and spectral in the air.
gojo had delegated this mission to you, claiming that you had a natural born talent for hunting curses, but you knew the truth was that he had laid on the flattery thick, so that he could kiss you chastely on the cheek, go take a day off, and let you handle this one on your own.
but just as you raise your hand to cast a light, a flash of movement catches your, a fleeting gleam, drawing you off the trail before you even realise where you're going.
you round the grove, and the sight ahead steals the breath from you. through the night's shadows, a pale blue light pulses, illuminating a tall figure whose outstretched hand has already grasped the curse, right into a neat orb.
it would take only a heartbeat to recognise the sorcerer, but you feel as though your heart has leapt into your throat, your blood pulsing under the thin skin, with such dizzying shock. your chest has tightened, and each breath is laced with something sharp and electric — not sadness, nor grief.
anger.
suguru geto.
you swallow against the burning in your throat, his features are half-lit by the eerie glow of his cursed technique, and yet they are sharper than you remembered, refined and all the more hauntingly familiar.
but he's turned, with his raven hair spilling over his shoulders, and violet eyes meet your own, and you scowl as his lips curl up, voice smooth as he speaks.
"hey. it's been a while."
"you...you — fuck you!"
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ugh, now it's just embarrassing. you had spent three years, pondering and wondering what cutting words you'd deliver upon suguru geto when you saw him again. and now you can barely get a sputter out without your eyes wandering over him.
geto raises a singularly arched brow, "don't you think we should catch up first?"
"i should kill you," you wonder if your fractured voice betrays how quite literally unravelled you feel right now, like the earth has fallen out beneath you, and you're not sure if you're moving towards him, or taking a step back, "oh my god, i should actually just kill you."
you wonder how you should do it. draw a blade and let it kiss his skin, to see red split out from his throat. or if you just forgo a weapon and push the air from him until his creamy skin is red and bruised.
but he's beautiful, he's so beautiful and it leaves you wondering if this is how orpheus felt when he turned around in that tunnel, and saw eurydice again. if he was also planted in the ground, unable to move at the sight of what his heart most wanted.
the boy who once broke your heart is now a man, draped in robes of deep purple and green, and gold. a man with ghostly eyes that leave you unsure on whether you're furious, or wanting.
still wanting to wrap your hands around his throat, perhaps. you tamp down any other traitorous thought.
"what's your business here?" you manage, and you wonder if he can hear a tremor, and a crack where all that hurt was buried when you were seventeen years old.
but geto just smiles, "you don't think i'd notice the presence of a curse on my own estate? or a jujutsu sorcerer? you've come a long way, haven't you?"
"huh - your estate?"
ah, it hits you, as you follow your line of sight behind geto's head, past the thick trees that you've been wandering in, to where silver rods strike up, out into the dark sky — the roof of what's clearly an important building, the time vessel association.
you cross your arms, "you mean your bullshit cult?" you wonder how quick you can pull out a knife, one of several that you must have taken with you on your missions.
now it's his turn to scowl at you, and a petulant expression dances across his face, but geto doesn't address your barb, "you've come a long way, did satoru send you here?"
you bark out a laugh, "that's gojo to you now."
now he’s right in front of you, and you force yourself not to swallow or betray even a flicker of nerves.
you hold his gaze, determined and unwavering but geto has always been tall, his frame deceptively broad beneath the layers of his robes, but standing this close, you catch the heady scent of allspice and sandalwood, maybe even some ceremonial incense.
"oh, i'm sorry. only you get to call him satoru now, is that right?"
you're not stupid, you know that there's an undertone of a question in his snarky tone, well fuck him. you don't owe him an answer of what your life has been like in the past three years (nor what gojo's has been like, for that matter).
he watches you for an answer, with a face as elegent as an idol in an ancient shrine, pale and luminous against the moon-lit sky. you briefly wonder how a tall, beautiful boy who floated around campus with headphones around his neck, and an obscure band-tee, had managed to peel off his skin and carve himself into something more holy, like a heian-era deity.
"suguru," you finally breathe, and your head feels jumbled and aching. he tilts his head, lips parted, as if he's been waiting for his name to fall from your lips, and he's savouring it.
"come with me," he says simply, gesturing to the shadowed building behind him, and his hand lingers in the air, as his pale, slender fingers reach towards your own, "just this once, you don't have to tell him, y'know."
yes, you know. you should refuse, fuck, you should have been grinding his blood into the earth, for the night has no time for traitors. and if you were to take his hand, it would make you one as well.
oh, how easily suguru geto has always been able to unravel you, and all you've ever known or believed in.
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suguru's fingers are like ice as they close around your wrist, with a firm but unhurried grip, pulling you along that makes resistance feel almost laughable.
you try to twist free, but he only glances back, with a teasing smile over his face, "still as defiant as ever," he murmurs, and you're not sure whether your cheeks are flushed from how he's drinking the sight of you in.
"i wouldn't be if you weren't dragging me through this place like some prisoner."
suguru laughs, "is that what you are?" and a dangerous, dormant merriment glints in his violet eyes, "i thought you'd come with me willingly."
his voice is maddeningly calm, as if this was some routine rendezvous, as if he hadn’t walked out of your life three years ago and left nothing but emptiness behind. suguru leads you down a long hallway lined with tall, flickering candles, their dim glow casting eerie shadows across the stone walls. it's so quiet you can hear your own breathing, each inhale tinged with the scent of incense that lingers on his robes.
you give another half-hearted tug against his grip, but his hold only tightens, but he stops, looking down at you, his gaze softening, almost pitying. "save your strength. we’re nearly there. and i need you to behave, and be quiet."
you hate the way your heart races at his touch, at his command, at the intimacy of this shadowed corridor that seems to belong to no one but the two of you.
"and where exactly are you taking me, suguru?" you ask, voice brittle.
"patience. you'll see soon enough."
he leads you forward again, each step echoing through the silence until he finally stops at a large, dark-stained wooden door. his fingers slide away from your wrist, leaving your skin tingling in their absence, and your own fingers curl outwards wanting to reach for his again before you tuck your hand away shamefully.
you can see his smile out of the corner of his eye. he knows this, and more.
but now suguru glances back, his eyes gleaming in the low light. "you came all this way," he says, voice low. "i thought you wanted to catch up."
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yeah. catch up.
that's exactly what you'd call it when you barrel through the doors alongside him, and push your mouth against his, hearing the satisfying breath that he draws before he's moving against you too.
you lean into suguru, feeling the heat radiate from his broad body as every nerve in your skin awakens as his lips crash against yours with a fervour that leaves you breathless. it's been three long years since you last felt this, anything, like this and you fight back whatever demon lurches within you — an ode to bittersweet rage, longing and want.
you can taste him in your mouth, a mix of mint and even something sweeter, and it stings you, pricks at every cut he must be leaving over you. but suguru's hands grip your waist, and you wonder if he feels just as you do. but he must, for his arms have pulled you in, anchoring you onto his chest, as if he's afraid you might slip away (just as he had, from you).
you don't know where the tears came from, but salt runs down your cheeks, mingling in with your kisses, and you take a moment to pull away from him, and trace his face with shaking fingers.
"i should hate you," you breathe out, but how can you when he stares down at you as if you've reached into his chest and clawed his heart out. a killer, a traitor, a murderer. but it's still him all the same.
but his lips are now on your face, as his tongue runs over the streaked sorrow, licking it right up, "don't," and now his tone is pleading, suguru geto is pleading above you, "i can't live with you hating me. just let me do this."
he leans into your more deeply and your hands move instinctively, slipping beneath the soft fabric of his robes, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. you explore the contours of his muscles, tracing the lines of his body, every touch igniting a spark that sends shivers through you, makes your own core feel heavy.
it's delicious how his breath hitches as you slide your hand even lower, past the waistband of his pants, right where the hard evidence of his desire is plain, and there's a satisfying rush of power that courses through you at his response, at the breath of air suguru rushes through his teeth in a low keen as he separates yourself from your panting mouth, to trail his soft lips on the sensitive skin lower.
his teeth briefly sink into the juncture of your neck, and you jolt at the brief pain before he runs his tongue over the fresh marks, soothing, hot.
his large hands are both under your top now, moving over the expanse of your stomach and up, up until they cup both your breasts, pinching, and twirling and leaving you slick with the arousal that has gathered at the apex of your thighs.
"so pretty, ah! so - pretty," suguru breathes, and you quirk your lips up as he lowers you slowly to the mat. he'd let you to quite a bare room, with nought in it save for the floor and the walls, but you're honestly content with him having his way with you like this.
you should feel guilty, you should be seeing blue eyes peering up at you from between your thighs, white hair plastered with the sweat of exertion.
but instead, all you see is the twilight sky, brushstrokes of black and dusky violet as suguru takes his place on his chiselled stomach, as you feel the mat press into your shoulder blades while you lay flat on your back.
"stay with me, gorgeous," he murmurs, his breath warm against the skin of your thighs. his plush lips brush against your mound, and you squirm and shake from the need, the need to feel his mouth lower and you cannot help but just arch into him, mewling as he starts drifting his fingers down.
"oh my god, oh!," you're almost embarrassed to be put in this position, moaning like a wanton whore, but you can't just bring yourself to stop, "fuck, suguru. can you please -"
and you're bucking your hips up towards his mouth, begging him to get a hint, and give you a hit of the pleasure that you're so craving.
but suguru stares at you flatly, and then in between your legs almost methodically, like he's waiting for something, and the flat of his palm rests heavy over your clothed cunt.
"i don't think so," he mutters, "tell me something first," and he's playing with the elastic band of your underwear, pulling it to the side before snapping it back, thwack!
"tell me you don't hate me. i need to hear you say it, that you never hated me," and you can feel a new bruise bloom on the inner corner of your thigh from his teeth's ministrations.
"i don't hate you! please, suguru, i could never, ah! -" and you don't get the chance to even finish your sentence before the man is pressing his tongue straight to the damp, translucent patch of fabric that's been soaked with your slick.
his teeth have caught on the fabric deliberately, and he's pulling the fabric, up and up, and the sight makes you so incredibly delirious that you wonder how on earth you're going to recover after this.
and to your credit, his eyes have gone wide, and hazy even — and you enjoy watching him swallow, adam's apple bobbing as suguru seems so entirely pussydrunk, just from you alone.
oh, now you have an idea, and so you pull yourself up and onto him, and he lets you push him down so your positions are reversed. he looks so beautiful like this, dark hair splayed out and falling over his flushed face, as you straddle his thighs, lewdly dripping over his robes as you try to gain some friction from the fabric.
"you're so desparate, baby. didn't think you'd be so — mmph! fuck!" it seems that all it takes to shut suguru geto up is a well-intentioned roll of your hips against his groin, and his hands shoot up to find their place on your waist, rubbing small circles over your hipbones.
you let out a shaky laugh, leaning down to press your lips to his again, "yeah, that's what i thought," and you kiss him, quick and almost outstandingly chaste, and you grin in satisfaction as he leans up again to chase your lips as soon as you separate.
as moonlight spills into the room, you decide to make short work of his robes, reaching underneath the silk to part the fastening, revealing the smooth ripple of muscle underneath, illuminated like godly marble in the silver light. suguru's gaze is fixed on you, his breath shaky and quickening, as he lets you trace your nails lightly over his abdomen.
taking a quick breath, your fingers slide beneath the waistband of his pants once more, and you relish at how suguru's entire body tenses at your touch, his breath hitching, "oh, fuck! right there," as your hands make contact with his cock, feeling the soft skin and the steel underneath. it's large, and heavy in your hands and you gulp, and realise now he's enjoying your reactions.
"there you go, you've had your fun," he breathes out, before shifting your hips back till you're situated right over his cock, "now, let me handle this."
you're barely given a few seconds to catch your breath before he sheathes himself, gliding straight into you thanks to the obscene amount of arousal practically weeping from your cunt, and you keen up at the sky, writhing from the delicious stretch of his wide cock that's made its home in your gummy walls.
"oh, ahh - suguru! wait, let me -," and you shift yourself, groaning as you feel his cock right in the sweetest spots, so you're in his embrace and he gladly envelops his arms around you, bringing you closer and planting desparate, hot kisses on your skin as your nails create crescents in his smooth skin.
suguru seems just as whipped as you are, gone from this mortal plane of the earth and onto a higher level of existence, just from your pretty, tight pussy that's holding him together, "keep doing that, pretty, look how. good. you. take. me."
and each word is punctuated by suguru's hips bullying into yours, pushing his cock deeper and further than you thought you could ever handle, as his mouth pants under yours, "taking it like a fuckin' champ. missed this, missed this so much."
you missed it too, chasing after the feeling of threading your fingers through his soft black locks, feeling him shudder as you scraped your nails down the back of his head,
"yeah, that's it," oh, suguru's always been mouthier like this, when you're sucking up him so deliciously, ramming his hips and angling them in a way that has your abdomen tingling, and has your eyes (and his) seeing stars and the heavens.
he taps his shoulders, where his dark robes have slipped off, revealing the smooth expanse of toned muscle and hot skin, "hands here, baby. keep you steady, yeah?"
and you plant your hands on his chest, determined to swivel your hips in a way that has you gasping for air, and glancing down right where - fuck, where you can quite literally see his bulge through your skin.
"oh, suguru! ah, keep doing that!" you desperately hope that these premises were vacated, for your unrestrained moans must have been rippling through the thin walls, strained and throaty as they bounced off wood.
and you just couldn't pull your eyes away from the sight of him, intoxicating as he was. suguru under you, broad chest heaving as he caught his breath with every rock of your hips — with a flush painting his creamy skin, framed by dark strands of hair that fanned messily around his face, falling in careless waves over his forehead and brushing against his cheekbones.
you couldn't help yourself, curling your fingers in the unruly halo and drawing him up, closer to your face as his crimson-bitten lips parted slightly, clacking around a deep groan.
his mauve eyes lifted away from the swell of your chest once more, hazy with exhaustion, but they softened as they met your own gaze with an almost reverent, quiet awe. even lying there, while you quite literally rode him to hell and back, cunt pulsing against his cock in a way that left you both breathless, he looked at you as if you were some vision, and his rosy-bruised mouth curled again.
"always thought you - hah - looked like a dream," he murmured, his gaze tracing your face as if he were committing every detail to memory, "i used to think that i had forgotten, or tried to forget how beautiful you were, are."
"but now," and he bucks his hips into a steady tempo, a constant allegro, "seeing you here, like this as if you were made for fuckin' me, how could i ever forget?"
his fingers are still under your top, brushing against your spine and you mewl, pressed close enough to him so your breasts press against the hard planes of his chest.
"stay a little longer, yeah?" he whispers, "just let me look at you, fuck! don't think i'd ever be able to stop lookin' at you anyway. can't get enough of you," and he reaches a hand in between your thighs, finding your swollen clit and beginning to run soft circles around it with the pads of his fingers, "don't think i'll ever get enough."
it's becoming too much, the harsh smack of his skin against yours, the feeling of your throbbing clit being showered with white-hot attention from his quick hands, the counter of his dense shaft gliding down your pliable walls, spanning them out until you can feel him so deep within you, "fuck, it's too good - mmph, way too good, i can't -"
you're practically tangled in his arms, in the arms of a man who should have been an enemy, a traitor, one who crumbled all that you held once dear. but his chest rises and falls erratically against yours, and you can feel him heartbeat jump, grounding you in the most unbearable way,
his fingers are now bruising your hips, leaving marks that you're sure (in the back of your mind, somewhere that's still rational) satoru would easily be able to recognise but you can't bring yourself to care.
you can't tell whose tears are staining the fabric of his robes between you, his or yours. the line between the two of you blurs as much as the fog in your mind from the way his cock has driven into you, made its imprint in a way that you'll never forget.
"suguru -" you're wondering if your poor, torn heart will just simply give out now, why is it so hard to breathe? each press of his fingers against your clit has you moaning over the shell of his ear, "i'm close, hah, i'm so close, suguru."
he chuckles weakly, bubbling from him and mingled in with a grunt, "yeah, i fuckin' know. i know." and his soaked fingers are still drawing circles in your sticky arousal that's leaking from you, over his cock, over his robes, dampening the dark trail of hair that coats his groin.
"always been mine." and as he bites your neck, teeth sinking into you, you feel the coil in your abdomen snap! and god, you don't think you could ever go back. not like this.
you can't even imagine the picture you must paint now, lips parted and open as you feel yourself being rocked through your orgasm in a way that leaves you untethered from the earth. how the spasm of your walls must finally trigger his own release, and suddenly he's stiffened too as thick, creamy ropes of his seed find their home in you, "see, mine. always mine, don't go soft on me now, pretty. oh my god, fuck!"
all you can truly do is let him handle you now, let his arms tighten and pull you in as close as possible, so his teeth are tugging on your lips, kissing right into your mouth as you ride out the stars of your own release, tears springing to your eyes once more from the overstimulation, hands digging into the woven mat under him.
later, you lie in suguru's arms, wrapped up entirely in the exhausation (and guilt, oh fuck, the guilt of what you've done) of the world, and everything else feels hazy and irrelevant. the steady rhythm of his breath in small puffs is the only thing grounding you, the warmth of his chest rising and falling against yours. he's tracing soft lines across your back, like he's trying to memorise the feel of you.
"suguru," you whisper, your voice breaking once more on his name, lips close to the damp skin of his neck. you're not sure if you're still crying, or if this is the quietest, most intimate form of surrender that has replaced the weathered storm.
he doesn't speak for a long moment, but his grip has tightened on you, as though he's trying to draw you even closer, like your soul will meld into his, "don't," and his voice is ragged raw, "you don't have to leave just yet."
the quiet desperation in his words cracks your heart, and for the first time in three years, the distance between the man who had become a shadow, and the boy you once knew feels almost unrecognisable.
his face turns toward yours, his eyes searching yours, as if he’s looking for something to anchor him, something to give him the assurance that all the destruction he’s caused, all the distance between you, can still be undone.
but you’re not sure if it’s possible.
you want to say something, anything, but the words lodge in your throat, too heavy and too tangled to escape. you let your hand rest on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart, matching the pace of your own.
"i don’t know if i can stay, suguru," you say, "how can we go back to what we were?"
"then let me make it up to you," he says softly, his voice shaking with a quiet urgency, as though this is the last chance he’ll ever have. "let me show you what i've built here. that you don’t have to leave."
if you stay, you risk losing yourself. you risk losing the anger that you had cherished, and treasured, nurtured and held onto. the anger that had guided you through the world. still, as you meet his gaze, something inside of you shifts. maybe it’s the way his hands slide gently up your back, steady and sure.
"please," he breathes again, his forehead resting gently against yours. "don’t leave. do not do to me, what i should never have done to you."
the moonlight spills through the cracks of the window, and it brings to mind the flicker of bright blue eyes, six eyes, alongside their warmth and steady presence, and you wonder if the earth will swallow you whole for what you've done.
you should never have come here. you shouldn’t have allowed yourself to get caught up in suguru's gravity again, shouldn’t have let him pull you back into this mess of old feelings and broken promises.
suguru's low, tired laugh pulls you from your thoughts, his breath warm against your skin. he pulls back slightly, his dusky eyes gleaming with something you can’t quite place — a spark of surprise, maybe amusement, even a little mockery, but there is no lie in his eyes.
"satoru?" he says, the name slipping from his lips with a touch of disbelief. "you really think he hasn’t visited me in the past three years either?"
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baronessvonglitter · 14 days ago
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would you ever consider writing a deeper romantic relationship for the lovely couple from Daddy can fix it??💖 it’s sooo good
I hope you didn’t think I forgot about you 💕 I was so pleased to receive your ask. From one hopeless romantic to another, I hope you enjoy!
Daddy Does Drilling
Handyman! Joel x fem!plus size!Reader
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Word count: 1.3K
Summary: what happens when you and Joel blur the line between business and pleasure..
I invite everyone to also read "Daddy Can Fix It" đŸ©”
WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Reader is plus-size, wears apron and dress. Reader's age not mentioned so there is as much or as little of an age gap as you want. Unprotected piv (Joel is snipped). Oral (f receiving). Sarah and Ellie are mentioned but not named. Divorced Dad!Joel đŸ€­Slowly falling in love and not realizing it until it's too late. Mention of reader wanting a divorce from her husband. Also catty book club bitches.
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"You're crazy, y'know that?" Joel whispers in your ear, his harsh whisper tickling your skin as he guides you up and down on his cock.
You grab the back of the sofa, nails digging into the soft upholstery as he plunges into your soaking wet pussy. "I had to do it," you giggle through your panting. "I couldn't stand my idiot husband doing all the work that you do better."
That earns you a slap on the ass, Joel's large hand giving it a firm grip after. "You're an insatiable lil' thing," he growls in your ear. "'Bout to wear me out."
You smirk up at the patched-up drywall, perfectly smoothed over by Joel's industrious and talented hands. Hands that are now grabbing your curves and molding your body to his. "Can you blame me? I'll never get enough of this cock!" Your sentence ends on a loud moan as he holds your hips steady and thrusts up into you hard and deep so you feel the steady brush of him up close to your cervix.
"Come on sweet thing, ya came twice already, you ready for a third?" Joel rasps in your ear. "Got my lap all fuckin' wet with this juicy pussy."
The moment he'd finished up with the wall you'd pounced on him, crushed your lips and your hips to his, delighted to find him already hard and ready. In the shortest amount of time ever, you both had shoved off and pulled aside whatever clothes were unnecessary and fucked right there on the sofa.
He's working you to your third orgasm, spoiling you, actually, holding back from his own pleasure because it's too much fun giving you yours, watching the beautiful expression on your face, the way your body shakes and trembles.
"There she is," he whispers as your sugar walls convulse around him, rhythmically squeezing his rigid cock, and that's when he lets himself explode, your pussy milking him for every drop he's got.
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He's at your house every week, then twice a week, three times a week, until he's just there to fuck you and make you scream his name. No fixing of anything required.
Neither of you notices when things take a turn towards the soft, the sweet. He spends hours between your thighs, tasting and teasing you until you come multiple times, not just trying to get you off but trying to know you. Your time together is marked not by the quick, productive thrusts in positions you haven't tried since college, but in the lingering kisses and knowing stares, the confessions that spill from your lips, the honesty that is born of such intimacy as you've shared.
You find out that he's divorced, has two grown daughters, one married and the other away at university. He loves to work with his hands, that he has a natural knack for figuring out a solution to every problem, and persists until said problem is fixed. That's how he started his company.. and one day the ladies just started coming onto him.
Being older and single, he didn't let those chances pass him. The women he helped were lonely like himself, and if he could give them a bit of something to keep them happy even for a moment, he was glad to do it. It became a well-known secret among the housewives of the community of Royal Hill that he would provide good service at a decent price and give you the fucking of a lifetime if you asked politely.
He liked women, found their husbands to be idiots, more often than not. White collar limp dicks who think a G-spot is street slang for money. Some of them he got to know well: Amirah with the flawless umber skin and always smelled of jasmine; Isabelle who tip-tapped around her tiled home in impossibly high heels with ostentatious feathers on the straps and wore hardly anything under her sheer hot pink robe, also bedecked in feathers; Becky who was quite demanding and rude but submissive once she had a dick inside her.
Then came you. And you threw him for a loop.
You were more than you appeared: sweet, shy, pretty. Once he got you in bed you were a goddess, and the amazing thing was you already knew you were. You gave without asking anything in return.. but how could he ever deny you his strong hands, eager mouth, throbbing cock?
No one else had struck this feeling within him, no matter how many lonely housewives he visited, no matter how hard or rough or passionately he'd fucked any of them, they were just fun. Side quests, as his gamer brother would say.
He liked getting to know you, finding out who was the woman underneath the apron and the rosebud-patterned dress. You told him secrets no one else knew, and he found himself doing the same. You would call each other just to talk, to hear each other's voices when you couldn't be close.
What you didn't know was the impact it would have on the other housewives.
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"He doesn't even come over himself anymore. His brother Tommy came by to fix the sink instead."
"Don't get me wrong.. Tommy's cute, but I wanted Joel."
"Daddy Joel."
You ignore the little group that's once again near the dessert table. You grab a couple of cucumber sandwiches and a chocolate-dipped madeleine, oblivious to their prattle.
"I don't know," Becky says pointedly. "His truck has been seen outside a certain someone's house a few days a week." She stops you before you can go back to your seat. "With the amount of time Joel's been at your home, you ought to have the most restored, revamped, upgraded home on the block," she says, brimming over with restrained attitude.
"What's going on?" she asks under her breath.
You can see the others are waiting for you to answer her, but for the first time ever you feel absolutely no need to appease them. You need to win them over like you need a hole in your head. "I don't know what you're talking about," you tell them, lying with ease.
"It's not nice to take up all his time," Becky says with an icy tone, staring you down as if looks could kill.
"Becky, is it just me, or are you jealous over a man you have to pay to fuck you?"
The others are stunned. No one has ever put Bitchy Becky in her place before. Not even she knows what to say.
"I think I'm done with this book club. I can read on my own at my house.. waiting on Daddy to fix whatever I need him to." With an angelic smile you drop the plate of treats back onto the table as you leave.
Walking out into the late afternoon sun you feel more free than you ever have before, as if a whole new chapter has started. The short walk to your house is pleasant, even more so when you see Joel's work truck in your driveway.
"Thought I missed ya," he says, his hands in his pockets as he walks from your front door.
"Fridays are for the book club," you explain, heart racing as you come close to him, and his arms go naturally around your waist. "But I quit. Can't really stand those snobby bitches."
You inhale the clean cotton scent of his red flannel, nuzzling your nose in his shoulder as he kisses the side of your head. "I don't want to do anything ever again that doesn't make me happy."
"So, lil' thing, what's gonna make ya happy right now?" he asks, a small grin playing across his lips.
Looking up at him, you realize Joel is the best choice you could have made. "I think I'm going to leave my husband. No.. I'm definitely going to leave my husband. But there's something else I want right now.."
"Good idea." His arms tighten slightly around you, as if to tether you to him. "And what would that be?"
"I want you to come inside.. you've got some drilling to do," you lead him by the hand and into your home.
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dividers by @saradika 👑
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reiderwriter · 11 months ago
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I’d love if you could do a very fluffy-smut with Spencer, like you had a tough case and the day after he calls asking you to go to his apartment and you see he has made food & made a fort to watch movies with fairy lights and just everything really romantic & it ending with very slow/soft sexđŸ©”
A/N: I loved writing this one! Spencer is absolutely the type to build a perfectly engineered pillow fort just because you're having a bad day 😭😭 I hope you enjoy it!!
Warnings: 18+ minors dni, soft sex, oral sex (f receiving), slow/ gentle sex, multiple orgasms, implied creampie/ no contraception mentioned :) tee hee
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There was something about the cases that took you to the other side of the country that sunk the ache into your bones just that little bit more. 
It didn't matter if you were going for a kidnapping or a serial or a spree, you always returned more weary than before. The weeks work that you endured was never as tough as returning home to your empty apartment, to the cold floor and the lonely bed. 
This time, your case had a happy ending. You weren't sure how many more of them you were going to be able to live through before the bad endings rendered them null and void. It didn't matter how many people you saved some days because your brain was crowded with the names and faces of the ones you didn't. 
The drive home from Quantico was unsurprisingly quiet. Having landed in the dead of night, there were never going to be too many people on the roads to your apartment. 
You weren't sure if it was fate, or the fact that you hadn't eaten anything in the last 18 hours that made you pull over to the side of the road to pick something up from the 24 hour drive thru, but in the end you were glad you did. 
The second you pulled your car off the road, taking a breather and deciding to stretch your legs a bit before going in to order, your phone screen lit up. 
“Spencer,” you answered the phone, “what's up?” 
“Y/N, hey, I just got home. Listen, remember last month I was talking to you about that one indie film that I couldn't find anywhere? Well, a friend of mine from college just sent me a file entitled ‘the movie.’” 
You weren't sure if it was Spencer’s enthusiasm or just the way you were always ready to drop anything to do something with him that had you giggling and nodding along. You didn't remember the discussion, let alone the movie he meant, but you liked hearing him talk about the things he was passionate about. 
“So I was thinking, we're both probably not going to get much sleep anyway since we clocked out only 23 minutes ago - movie night?” 
“You couldn't have called at a better time, Spencer. I'm grabbing food, text me your order and I'll see you in 15.”
-X-
The drive to Spencer’s apartment was clear, but the hum in the air was lighter than  the silence of before. By the time you pulled onto his street, your mood had already brightened significantly.
You trudged up to his apartment softly so as not to cause any complaints and sent him a text to let him know you were waiting outside. 
You knew instantly that he'd received and read it - the garbled sound of the large man tripping over his feet in his attempt to rush to the door were the same every time you arrived. Stubbing his toe on some pile of books or the other was practically ritual. 
“Hi,” he whispered, opening the door just a crack and giving you a bright smile. 
“Hi,” you smiled back. “I bought food.”
“Perfect. That's perfect. You're
 come on in. It's cold, right?” He guided you into the small entryway in his apartment and let you drop your keys with his as if they were supposed to be tangled together. 
“I have a little surprise.” He said, suddenly sounding bashful as he grabbed for your hand in the dark - you hadn't realised as he'd led you in but there were no lights on in the small apartment on at all, as far as you could tell. 
“What? Spencer-” 
“You'll like it, I promise, you just have to trust me.” You relaxed as he wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you with him into his living space. His hand was warm as it settled against the small on your back, and his chest was surprisingly broad and firm as you brought up your hands to steady yourself against him. 
“Okay, now close your eyes.” 
“The apartment is pitch black. Why am I closing my eyes?” You giggled a little, surprised that your whole body felt so light and calm now, when it had felt so terrible only half an hour before. 
“Trust me,” he said, and you did. Truth be told, your eyes were already shut before the words had even left his mouth. 
“Okay, you can open them now.” 
He must have flipped a light switch the second you opened your eyes because your vision was blurred by the dazzling light when you did. 
Blinking through the adjustment, you started making out shapes and couldn't stop the small tears that pricked the corners of your eyes. 
He hadn't just invited you around for a movie night - he'd built a fort. Held up by a few chairs and piles of books, he'd managed to prop up at least three layers of blanket to surround the most comfortable looking floor you'd ever seen. 
You didn't even know he owned this many pillows, but when he tugged your hand down as he began to move into the fort, you didn't need to care. 
Not with his fingers gently laced with yours and the fairy lights he'd surrounded everything with, giving his skin a golden glow. You didn't need any explanation. You just needed him to hold you. 
“Spencer this is beautiful,” you whispered, sound dampened by the lump in your throat that you tried to swallow, to no relief. “This must've taken so much time. How did you even-”
“PhD in Engineering. I don't get much use out of it these days, but it certainly comes in handy.” 
You couldn't help the laugh that burst from you, the tears finally flowing as tears of joy. 
“Spencer, what is all this for?” 
“It's just because. You looked like you had a hard day, and I enjoy spending time with you.” 
They weren't the most romantic words in the world. They probably didn't come close to some quotes he could recite as easily as breathing. But they hit you hard and fast. 
You knew you were in love with Spencer Reid long before this moment, but there was no holding back the flood after hearing the sincerity in his voice. 
You slowly stretched your neck up and pressed your lips against his. It was fleeting, a small moment that if this didn't pan out, you could brush off as a friendly show of appreciation. 
You pulled away to gauge his reaction, but you didn't get to. His hand on your neck had pulled you back to him for another slow, but deep kiss, and it was as if your entire body was on fire in those sheets. 
You weren't sure how long you spent breathing each other in, exploring each others lips softly. You just knew you were growing desperate for more. You didn't notice that you'd climbed into his lap until your eagerness knocked him onto his back, forcing you apart. 
Your chest lay atop his as you both gasped for air, legs tangled, eyes locked as both of you feared talking first. 
After almost too long without anything said or done, Spencer chose silence again, flipping your positions so you were the one on your back on the pillows as he hovered over you, lips meeting yours again. 
This time, you made the conscious decision to wrap your legs up around his waist, hand tangling in his hair as you smiled and giggled against his kisses, so obliviously happy to be there with him. 
“I love you,” you whispered between kisses, not even hesitating for a second to contemplate whether he felt the same. 
“I love you more,” he said as if it were a competition where you both won in the end. 
You became more talkative after that, responding to every touch, every kiss with praise and a confession, a moan as his fingers pushed under your shirt, a shaky breath as they unbuttoned your pants. 
“Fuck, Spencer, please touch me more,” you begged as his hand toyed with your nipple, having discarded your shirt and bra quickly after receiving permission to do so. 
“I will. I want to know all of you,” his voice was strong even in a whisper, as he dropped his head to your other nipple to begin suckling and teasing you. 
You always thought his hair would be soft, had been tempted on multiple occasions to tuck a strand behind his ear, or just run a hand through it, and now you held it firm, pushing him further into your chest as you arched into his mouth. 
“I want to feel m-more of you, Spencer.” 
He raised his gaze to you as he let go of your nipple with a pop and quietly complied with your will. Trailing his head lower, he kissed across the expanse of your stomach, biting and sucking here and there to leave a path of markings in his wake before arriving right where he wanted to be. 
He made quick work of your pants and panties both, surprised that a man who never failed to bump into things in his own living space could be so graceful when it came to divesting you of your clothing. 
You couldn't ponder for too long as he dived between your legs, spreading you open like a book he needed to read and memorise. His to guess hit your clit quickly, and a few twitches and moans here and there showed him how you liked it, where you needed him and his tongue. 
You again got to grasp his hair  pulling him further into your wet cunt as you chased your high, needing so desperately to ride out an orgasm against his face. 
When his two fingers stretched you open, you practically drowned him, thighs clamping shut as your brain emptied itself of stress. 
You calmed down and watched him come up for air, fingers still slowly and gently pumping inside of you, reminding you that this wasn't over. 
“You taste sweet.” 
“I know how much you like sweet things.” Your juices glistened on his lips and chin, a few drops running down his neck as you stared at him with pure desperation in your eyes. 
“Spencer, please, fuck-” his fingers picked up speed every time you tried again.
“Spencer, fuck me, please  just fuc-”
“As you wish, Y/N.” 
He didn't bother removing his own clothing, though you desperately wanted to see his entire length and explore him just as he had with you. 
But after cumming on his face already, you decided you'd let him go with whatever he wanted. 
Shifting up behind you as you laid there, he gently rolled your body onto its side as he pulled your back towards him, giving him better access to your cunt as you arched into him again. 
He sank in slowly, almost as if he was scared to break you, but didn't stop until he was almost fully inside of you, practically sheathed. 
He adjusted his hold on you, wrapping both arms around your waist and pulling your back flush against his chest as he pressed open-mouthed kisses against your neck.
With deep, slow strokes, he made love to you. You weren't sure if it was the fairy lights, or if it was just that good, but you saw stars, saw them burnt into your eyes, watched them every time the pleasure felt too good and your eyes rolled back into your head. 
The second orgasm came slower than the first, but it was just as hot. 
“Y/N, look at me - you're so beautiful, I want to watch you cum.”
“Spencer, love- I love you, I love you, fuck, oh my god, I love you so much.” You reached for his lips but he pressed his forehead against yours as he whispered in your ear a final time: “cum for me now.” 
Your body wasn't one for taking your queues, but it responded to him as if he'd been the missing part you'd missed this entire time. 
Your cunt tightened around him, milking his cock as he moaned and released seconds after you did. 
You lay tangled in those blankets and pillows for hours after, and you weren't afraid or lonely anymore. 
962 notes · View notes
mbsneur · 2 months ago
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Bold motivation
Laia Codina x Reader
Hello everyone, I've returned with a new piece of writing that I hope you'll like and enjoy. Tomorrow, I'll be sharing the Aggie story. I'm open to any feedback and messages you may have, and I'm also open to any wishes you may have! đŸ©”
Warnings: Smut18+ minors DNI, public sex
My Masterlist
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It's been a week since Laia lost not only to Brazil but also to Germany in the bronze medal match, you can understand her, Laia's not really feeling well, she's grumpy with you, she lies on the couch all day and doesn't give you any love and you miss your girlfriend. The season is about to start again and you want to cheer Laia up and take her to the gym, as you both always do when one of you isn't feeling well.
You walk down the hallway in your training leggings and top, towards the living room where Laia is lying on the couch: "Laia, baby, let's go to the gym," you call to her, and she grumbles and turns back into the pillows.
You move closer to her and lean over the couch, planting kisses on her face. "I'm going to cheer you up, Laia. Trust me," you say firmly. Laia finally turns to you. "Let's cuddle on the couch," she says. She says in her sweetest voice, where she knows she can convince you. "And exactly because you're not feeling well, we're going to the gym. Come on. Venga " You say louder this time, and Laia just rolls her eyes.
She gets up and stomps annoyed into your shared bedroom where she puts on her gym clothes, after about 5 minutes she comes back to you still with an annoyed face, you lean against the wall and just laugh at her.
"I finally get a real kiss," you say with a grin, and Laia immediately gives you a soft kiss on the lips, "I only do this because I love you," she says ironically, reaching for her car keys.
You follow her laughing and, despite her bad mood, she is still a gentleman and opens the passenger door for you.
Your journey has been the same as always, Laia has her playlist playing and you talk to her and give her a pep talk and she gives you a little smile now and then.
When you arrived at your gym, checked in and put your things in the locker, you had an idea and luckily the gym wasn't too crowded, you chose a quiet corner where no one was around.
"Laia, can you do 15 sit-ups and then maybe you can get a little reward?" you say mischievously, grinning at her "Yeah, are you going to tell me what to do?" she says with a grin, coming closer to you "The reward, baby," you say teasingly, giving her a quick kiss on the lips.
"What kind of reward will it be?" she asks as she moves to the floor, you just shrug your shoulders and watch her do her sit ups, it always turned you on to see Laia working out.
When Laia has finished her sit-ups, you kneel on the floor and pull her towards you for a kiss. Her tongue slides into your mouth and explores every inch. One of her hands grabs your arm to pull you closer to her. You detach yourself from her and pull your top off. You were wearing a sports bra underneath, so it's not really a problem if anyone sees it.
Laia's eyes roam from top to bottom, taking in your whole body, "ah, I see, that's how it works," she grins and starts to kiss you again, deepening the kiss and reaching for one of your breasts, you push her hand away, "Laia, that's not how it works, you have to do 15 push-ups first," you say, moving away a little, you pull yourself back and she start to nibble at your neck, "Laia," you moan softly, "one minute," she says between kisses and nibbles. one of her hands pinches your nipple you squirm under her and try to move away but she is stuck to you
You moan slightly as Laia kisses your neck again and you finally manage to push her away from you. "Laia, the push-ups," you say, your voice firm and out of breath. She goes to the floor again to do the push-ups. You sit there and watch every movement of her strong arms with every push-up, admiring the way her biceps grow stronger with each one. you knew exactly that sex is the best motivation for laia
Laia has done her push-ups and comes crawling back to you. She lands on your neck bone and kisses it repeatedly. You drop your head back and moan. One of her hands slips under your sports bra to feel your breast, which makes you moan again. When you ask Laia what her favourite body part is on you, she tells you it's your breasts. She has always loved your breasts more than anything.
"Laia, stop, you have to run a few kilometres on the treadmill" you say, breathing lightly and Laia moves away from you, you realise that at this moment she would do anything you ask her to because she wants you, she wants to fuck you in this gym.
She gets on the treadmill, a little reluctantly, and you have a plan. You sit down directly in front of Laia so that she has the perfect view of you. You were turned on by the whole thing. Laia had worked on your breasts before, and you now look directly in front of her with your legs spread apart.
When you looked at Laia, she was nervous, her eyes were almost black and she was struggling to walk, you wanted to give her a little show, you played with your bra straps and rubbed your thighs.
Laia's mouth is slightly open as she turns off the treadmill and starts to walk towards you, "Laia, no," you say in an annoyed voice, but Laia ignores your words and comes over to you, grabbing your arm, "Let's go to the toilet," she says in a slightly angry voice, pulling you up from the bench.
She pulls you behind her on the way to the toilets. You quickly grab your top, when you arrive at the toilets. Laia pushes you in and starts kissing you harder than before. You moan into her mouth and she pushes you by the hips into one of the cubicles. She pushes you against the door and her hands wander all over your body.
She nibbles on your lips and god you are so wet your underwear is ruined. "What were you thinking teasing me like that?" she says against your lips. "I wanted to motivate you, baby," you say out of breath from all the kissing. Laia turns you around and pushes you onto the toilet lid. Within a second she is kneeling in front of you.
She kisses the bare skin on your belly and pulls your trousers down to your ankles "You will be quiet now or I swear to God you will not be able to walk for the next three weeks," she says in her strong Spanish accent and something about the thought pleases you.
She pushes your underwear aside and works your pussy directly with her mouth. You whimper and hold a hand directly in front of your mouth to suppress any noise. Laia is enchanting with her tongue, and you can't help about this
She looks at you and teases you with her middle finger, playing with your entrance.
"Don't tease me, Laia," you say firmly. "Let's make this quick I want to take you home and fuck you until you forget your name."
You moan at her words and her middle finger slips quickly into your wet hole.
Her mouth lands on your clit again and her finger pumps into you. Your head hits the tile wall and a slight whimper comes out of your mouth. Laia gives you a warning look and you press your hand harder against your mouth. You can hear how wet you are with every thrust Laia makes with her fingers.
You press against her, and her tongue clamps around your clitoris. She lifts your leg over her shoulder to get deeper inside you before a second finger slides easily inside you. You moan, and Laia bites lightly on your bundle of nerves. She pumps faster inside you, and your legs start to shake. Laia drives you closer to the edge.
"Laia, I'm coming," you say between moans and whimpers, your leg pressing closer to her cheek as she gets mercilessly faster "don't hold back baby cum for me," she says and immediately starts licking you again.
Your body relaxes against hers until you cum on her fingers and make a mess as she pulls away from you. Her mouth and fingers are covered in your juices. Her lips are glossy and slightly swollen above a dazed smile. "Such a good little pup, aren't you?" she says in a low voice. "Let's go home," she adds, and she helps you get dressed.
Tell me your opinion <33
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starlightxsvt · 10 months ago
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Treacherous Tales | 97z mafia au
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Three districts. Three tales of treachery and obsession.
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Beautiful Liar
pairing ➳ professor!dk x weapons dealer fem!reader
genre ➳ dark romance, angst, smut
synopsis ➳ you have old scores to settle and he's a pretty pawn in your game. but one must remember obsession leads to destruction.
release date: 01.03.24
read here!
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She's The One
pairing ➳ mafia heir!mingyu x civilian fem!reader
genre ➳ romance, smut, angst
synopsis ➳ he's the man you don't even dare to dream of. you're his new obsession. it's hard to figure out if he's just playing around or being serious, especially when there's danger lurking around the corner.
release date: tba
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The Dreaming
pairing ➳ mafia don!the8 x mafia heiress!reader
genre ➳ drama, enemies to lovers, smut
synopsis ➳ you were born to be enemies. but a new threat forces your families to team up and you hate it. you hate him. right?
release date: tba
A/N: So, this teaser was supposed to come out in early January but shit happened and thus, I'm late. Apologies for that, peeps! I hope you all have been doing well & I hope y'all anticipate the release of this series. Tbh I haven't even seriously started mapping out Mingyu & Hao's story but we'll see where the winds take us, lol. For now, I'm still working on DK's story but hopefully I'll be done with it by the 14th. Until then, stay safe! đŸ©”
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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 6 months ago
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So Hear My Voice Remind You Not to Bleed
Pairing: Daryl Dixon and Fem!Reader (pre-relationship)
Setting: Alexandria
Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Injuries; angst
Summary: You're injured and benched, unable to go with Daryl on runs. When someone else is brought in to take your place, it does not go well.
A/N: for @darylsgarden. I had mixed feelings about this and had a couple of wonderful friends ( thank you @shadowcitrine and @enlightndone!đŸ©”) read it and help me out. I hope it's at least close to what you were looking for đŸ©”
*gif is not mine
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“It doesn’t even hurt.”
“Uh huh.” Daryl stopped preparing his bag and stepped across the living room, beckoning you with a wave of his hand. “Then walk over here without limpin’.” You narrowed your eyes and pushed yourself up off the couch, setting your jaw. 
You didn’t even make it a single step before falling forward with a choked off shout. 
And, of course, he was there to catch you as you crumbled. 
“Thought so.” He said with a hint of a smirk, depositing you back onto the couch. “Doc said ya gotta stay off’a it a couple’a weeks an’ that’s whatcha gonna do.” You whined and flopped around like a fish out of water. “Stop.” He chuckled, grabbing his bag. “Got paired up with someone who just got here ‘til ya get better.”
You stilled, brow creasing. “You got a new partner. Who said? Rick?”
Daryl continued to shoulder his bag, then his crossbow. “Deanna.” Why would Deanna step in? “Said she needs to see what the woman can do to help. She’s s’posed to be good with a bow but I dunno.”
Woman? Bow? You already didn’t like this suggestion. “Oh.” It was all you could think of to say. You didn’t want him to go before when you thought he was going out alone. Now that you knew he was going with a strange woman, you really didn’t want him to go. But why? Daryl was your best friend. You didn’t have any say in his comings and goings, and why should you? 
A knock on your door startled you out of your thoughts, Daryl watching you with a flat expression. 
“Guess that’s her. See ya.” He started toward the door, and you found yourself leaning nearly off the couch to see who was on the other side. When he opened it, your breath caught. 
Her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, a bow and quiver somehow anchored to her back. She was almost as tall as Daryl, lean and curvy in all the right places. Shit. She was gorgeous. 
“Uh, bye.” You muttered. Daryl didn’t even regard you. Maybe he hadn’t heard. Or maybe he was too busy ogling the beautiful woman in front of him. You couldn’t tell from his position. What you could see was the woman giving your run partner an appreciative once over before smiling. 
“Hey! You must be Daryl. I’m Angie.” She held out a hand, which the archer ignored with a grunt, pushing his way past her to walk to his bike. He was taking the bike? You sighed. You weren’t supposed to care. Daryl was your friend. Not your—he was your friend. 
And you just kept telling yourself that. 
Even a week later, when you were able to be up and about but not without difficulty, things felt—different. Daryl was always gone with Angie, like he was at that very moment. Now that you could actually move, you went about slowly cleaning up the house the two of you shared and started making something for dinner. You could leave Daryl’s in the oven for him to eat later. 
You had just finished your own when you heard the roar of the bike, saw the headlights illuminate the walls inside the dining room window, sending the shadows scattering. You found yourself excited to see him, to show him you were mobile. Hobbling over to the window, you felt silly for the ridiculous smile splitting your face but you didn’t feel that way for long. 
Angie was standing in front of Daryl at the bike, her bow in her hand at her side. He had already unlatched his crossbow from the back of the bike and had it across his back. She was smiling brightly with her perfect teeth and small creases next to her bright blue eyes, looking every bit like a model in the middle of the apocalypse. And Daryl—his lips were turned up on one side, a very Daryl smile that he gave when he was relaxed and in a good mood. 
You had known the man since the quarry and it had taken months to earn that smile. Angie was getting it in less than a week? 
You should have turned away. Spying on them wasn’t right. Daryl wouldn’t be pleased if he caught you, no matter what he was doing. He never liked feeling as though he was being watched too closely. 
You should have turned away but you didn’t. 
And then you wished you had. 
Angie reached out as she spoke, her words muffled and distorted through the glass. Her long, slender fingers wrapped around his bicep and squeezed, her thumb stroking the skin there. Daryl glanced at her hand but that was it. He didn’t ask her to remove it, didn’t step back to increase the distance between them. 
You didn’t want to admit that you were jealous. Even as your mind and heart both screamed only I can touch him that way—for two entirely different reasons—you refused to grant it a name. 
You couldn’t take anymore, limped away from the window and climbed the stairs with more than a few whimpers of pain. Daryl would usually help you to your room at night and back down in the mornings. But you didn’t want to see him, felt an anger toward him that was just as confusing as it was unjustified. You felt the same anger toward Angie, a woman you knew nothing about beyond the things Daryl would tell you. 
And he didn’t tell you a lot. 
You still should have been happy that Daryl both wanted to share something with you and that he had found someone that seemed to make him happy enough to gab about them, limited as it was. 
But you weren’t happy. 
It hurt. You hurt. Your heart felt constricted, wrapped in a cord that would tighten with each breath, faster and faster with each moment you spent thinking of him just outside, smiling at her. 
She didn’t deserve his smile. 
She hadn’t been there when Merle was left behind in Atlanta. She hadn’t been there when Sophia went missing and Daryl ran himself ragged trying to find her. She wasn’t the one to care for him after he’d fallen and was shot. She hadn’t been the one whose arms he’d finally chosen to let hold him when Merle died. She hadn’t run to him and felt his relief at being reunited after Terminus. She hadn’t walked along with him and coaxed him to drink just enough water to stay alive on the road. And she damn sure hadn’t stood up and told everyone he needed his own place in Alexandria so he wouldn’t feel more trapped than the gates already made him feel. 
That had been you. Always you. 
The door opened and closed downstairs, your name being called. You could hear the concern, knew it would be there at not finding you downstairs. You shimmied out of your jeans and climbed into bed—your back to the door—and just listened. Daryl methodically looked around, his voice carrying from different rooms throughout his search. Your room would be last because it would be the last place he’d think of you being. Not without his help. 
The oven door opened and closed, too quickly for him to grab the food. He was checking to make sure you had been there. Likely spotted your used dishes as well. You barely heard his boots on the stairs. Daryl, for all his height and muscle, moved like a spirit. Still, you knew his gait, what to listen for that signaled his approach. 
You drew up the comforter just as the soft knock came and a quiet call of Y/N? that you decided to not answer. The light from downstairs was pale in your room, starting on the floor and soon bathing your bed and walls. He didn’t say anything, simply closed the door and descended the stairs just as quietly. 
And somehow, that’s what made the tears come. 
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There were two days of tense air in the house before Daryl’s next run. Your ankle had improved but you were still unable to put weight on it. Denise advised you to stay off of it but you had waved her off with a yeah yeah, absolutely zero intention of heeding her advice. 
When you arrived at your home, Angie was already leaning against Daryl’s bike like she belonged there. The sight infuriated you. Your attempt to pass her by was quickly foiled by the woman herself, her hand coming up to tap a finger on your shoulder. 
“It’s Y/N, right?” 
Sighing, you turned, sitting your bad foot up on the toe of your boot to keep the pressure from taking you down. “Yeah.”
“I’ve been dying to meet you. Daryl’s told me a lot about you.”
“Funny. He hasn’t told me much about you.” She didn’t seem fazed. I’m glad he’s so chatty with you. “Nice to meet you.” You said in place of your inner monologue. “Excuse me.” You started to turn when she stood straight. 
“Hey, uh—I was just wondering. Are you and him a thing?” She flipped her hair—braided today—over her shoulder. 
“A thing?” You knew exactly what she meant, but feigned ignorance. It was not a conversation you wanted to have. 
“Yeah, you know—a couple.”
Closing your eyes, you inhaled through your nose and exhaled through your mouth. “No. Why?” You didn’t even realize you had clenched your fists until her eyes flitted down and back up, forcing you to relax lest she tell Daryl you were being hostile toward her. 
“No reason. He’s a great guy, isn’t he? Handsome too.” Now she was just trying to push your buttons. 
“Yeah. The best, actually.” Don’t cry, don’t cry, do not cry. “Don’t hurt him.” You said flatly—a clear warning—and limped your way up the steps and inside. 
“Where ya been?” Daryl’s voice greeted you before the door had even closed. He was on the couch, lacing up his boots. You regarded him silently for a moment, allowing Angie’s words to sink in before setting your jaw and squaring your shoulders.
“I’m going with you today.”
His hands stilled, frozen for a moment before he sat back a little and placed his forearms over his knees. Piercing blue eyes scanned over you before settling on your bum ankle, the urge to place your foot flat on the floor too intense to disregard. “Nah. Y’ain’t ready.”
“You don’t get to make that call.” You snapped, more harshly than you had intended, but it got your point across. His eyes narrowed, his own jaw tightening.
“Maybe not, but I do get to say who goes with me an’ it ain’t you. Not today.” The archer went back to his boots while you gaped at him, lacing the right one up before getting to his feet and grabbing his things.
“Why not? Because suddenly Angie is better than me?”
Daryl scoffed. “Stop.” He went for the door, opening it a couple of inches before your palm landed flat against the surface and shoved it closed. “The hell ya doin’?!”
“I won't stop.” You mocked, drawing your lips back in a snarl. “You’ve been up her ass since you met her. Hardly ever here and when you are, you don’t even talk to me.” 
“The fuck you on ‘bout? We go on runs, get the things people need. Ya forget food an’ meds ain’t just down at the convenience store anymore, Y/N?” He pulled the door open again, and again, you pushed it shut. “Let go.” His voice had dropped into that serious tone, the warning before the anger.
“No. I’m going with you. I’ll let you open this door when you agree to that.” You stood straighter, tucking your lip between your teeth to stave off the whimper when you dared place your weight on the healing ankle. Of course, Daryl and his hyper awareness caught it.
“Guess it ain’t openin’ cause y’ain’t goin’.” He tried once more with the same result, this time letting his burdens fall to the floor in order to face you, nearly nose to nose. “Alright, ya got my attention.” He growled. It had been so long since he had spoken to you with such enmity, you couldn’t suppress a jarring flinch. 
Swallowing hard, you attempted to control the wobbling of your bottom lip. “Please, take me with you.”
“How many times I gotta say no?! Y’need to take your ass to that couch an’ let your damn ankle heal ‘fore I even think ‘bout lettin’ back out there.”
“Daryl.”
“No, Y/N.”
With a deep breath through your nose, you stepped backward, freeing up the space. “Fine. But maybe you should stay with Carol for a while when you get back.” Giving him your back, you didn’t bother to hide the limp. 
“Y’don’t mean that.” 
You needed to force yourself to keep walking when you heard the dejection in his tone. “I do.” You didn’t. “I don’t need you here.” You did. 
“Y/N—”
“Angie’s waiting.” You detoured at the last second and veered into the kitchen, seeing him from the corner of your eye, his hand lowering as if he had been reaching for you. Your heart was beating in your ankle by the time you were leaning heavily against the countertop. 
When the door closed, the floodgates opened. 
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Two days. Daryl and Angie had been gone for two days. It wasn’t anything new to be held up on a run, but there were always close calls involved and you couldn’t imagine Daryl battling his way through herds or humans without you at his side. The two of you predicted one another’s movements, flowing and fighting together like a well oiled machine, always ending up victorious and on your way home. 
Did he have that with her now? 
“You know it’s not like that with the two of them, right?” Carol looked up from beneath her lashes as she chopped up the herbs and available vegetables for the stew. You knew it was more of an admonishing statement and not entirely a question.
“I don’t know that and neither do you.” You replied bitterly before tipping your glass to your lips. Carol smiled, that suspicious grin like she knew something you didn’t. 
“I know Daryl.” She picked up the cutting board and used the knife to scrape the occupying ingredients into the pot. “Why does it bother you so much anyway?”
“He’s my best friend.” The answer came out a little too quickly.
The other woman chuckled. “Is that all?” 
“Yes.” You countered almost gibingly. She only spared you an arched brow before turning to place the pot on the stove. You decided to ignore the intensely foreign fluttering in your chest and began spinning the glass between your palms. “Do you think they’re okay?”
“I—”
The knock at the door was sudden and urgent, repeating after only a few heartbeats. Your questioning expression met Carol’s. Spinning on the island stool, you eyed the door until it was opened. Carol’s hand on the edge tightened until her knuckles were white, but you could only make out quiet words and someone’s heavy breaths. Hobbling from your perch, you grabbed the door and pulled it back further. 
Angie was a mess, covered in dirt and blood and walker innards. “Y/N.” She panted. 
Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. “Where’s Daryl?” You didn’t remember ducking beneath Carol’s arm or pushing past Angie. The pain in your ankle became a mere afterthought as you walked backwards toward the steps, awaiting information. 
“He’s in the infirmary. He’s asking for you.” 
You didn’t wait, running with only the slightest hitch in your step. Daryl was more important than any amount of discomfort. Your mind was running rampant with scenarios. What if he was bit? Dying? What if he died before you made it to him? The last thing you had said to him was that you didn’t need him. 
And it was such a lie. 
“Y/N, wait!”
You tried to ignore her, the infirmary within sight. You needed to get to him so that you could breathe again. 
When her hand caught your shoulder, you reacted almost violently, throwing her away from you and almost to the dirt. “What?!” You bellowed. “What could possibly be more important than Daryl right now?!”
“Lana is!” She answered quickly. “My Lana!” Breathing heavily, you shook your head and threw out your arms, a silent but gestured question. “My wife.”
You felt like the wind had been punched right out of you. “Your—your wife?” Damn you, Carol!
“Yeah. I think there’s been a huge misunderstanding.”
“You’re telling me.” You muttered, looking toward the infirmary with an expression of remorseful longing. 
“I asked those questions because—because that man is so obviously head over heels for you that it’s absurd he hasn’t made a move. I thought maybe—maybe I could push things along.” She rubbed at the back of her neck, her eyes brightening at something she saw just over your other shoulder. When you turned, a dark haired woman was making her way over, a toddler on her hip. “I just—he’s not much of a talker—until I mention you.” Another glance at the other woman. “I’m sorry.”
When she started to leave, you reached out a hand, the new information still pinballing around in your head. “I’m sorry.” You had treated her—thought of her—so unfairly, and still, she smiled at you. 
“Go on. He’s waiting for you.” And then she was walking away to kiss her wife before converting to a motherly gentleness, her lips pressed to her son’s forehead.
God, you were an asshole.
To her. 
To Daryl. 
Your ankle only received a moment to remind you it was still weak before you continued your journey to the infirmary. 
“M’fine! Quit proddin’ at me!”
The sound of his voice gave your heart permission to beat again. You stood at the door, listening to him argue with Denise until the woman finally gave up with a huff and a clang of metal. Opening the screen door, you limped inside with a hiss, the adrenaline draining out of you, no longer blanketing the pain. You would definitely be set back a week or so after this. 
Daryl was on the exam table, filthy and cut up, shirt open and left foot propped up on a pillow. You could have laughed at the irony if you weren’t so relieved at seeing him there and breathing and whole. Alive. 
His ranting came to an abrupt halt when he noticed you in the doorway, eyes softening. His entire body seemed to visibly relax with an audible exhale. 
“Y/N.”
You didn’t even try to control your quivering lip this time and rushed to cross the distance even with Denise scolding you in the background. 
Your arms wound around his neck and his around your back. “Daryl. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it—I didn’t—”
“S’fine. Know ya didn’t.” He whispered against your temple. Denise cleared her throat behind you and the weight of one of Daryl’s hands disappeared before returning with renewed pressure. The sound of the door opening and closing signaled that he had—in one way or another—told Denise to get lost. Neither of you spoke until you pressed your face into the side of his neck and began to sob. “Hey, m’okay. Just fell on my ass.”
“How?” You sniffled. 
“Window was in my way.”
You laughed wetly, his shoulders bouncing with a breathy chuckle of his own. 
“Idiot.” You chided, pulling away to wipe at your eyes. He watched you gather your bearings, blue eyes dancing between yours. “Are you really okay?”
“Yeah.” His hand was so gentle against your face, thumb sweeping over your cheek to wipe away the tears. “Need to talk to ya ‘bout Angie.”
You shook your head but placed your hand upon his so that he didn’t dare move it. “She beat you to it. I’m so sorry. I was being a jealous asshole.” He tilted his head and squinted. 
“Jealous cause I was spendin’ so much time ‘round her?” It was like he knew the answer that you hadn’t quite accepted as truth yourself. 
“Among other things.” You rubbed your lips together and ducked your head. Daryl hummed in question, his hand sliding down to your jaw, thumb absently stroking across your bottom lip. Your voice instantly decided to become lost in your throat, your mouth opening when his hand fell away. “Daryl, I—” You almost bolted, felt the insane urge to run begin to vibrate throughout your legs from a nervous twitch that started in your stomach and spread throughout your chest.
“That man is so obviously head over heels for you—”
Your lips were on his before your brain had even fully given the order for you to move, likely startling you just as much as it had him—if the sharp inhale through his nose was anything to go by. So, you stayed there, frozen with your mouth against his, neither of you moving until it was so awkward that you thought more than once of how great it would be for the earth to open up and swallow you. Humiliation coloring your cheeks, you began to pull away—and then his mouth moved over yours, his warm palm coming to rest on the side of your neck. Brilliant as you were, you pulled back in shock, wide eyes blinking at him. Cerulean pools were shimmering with horror and shame.
“That bad, huh?” He asked, dropping his hand and picking at a patch of dry skin on his palm. His eyes lowered to follow the movement.
“No!” You blurted. Daryl actually flinched and reeled back. “No, no. It wasn’t—there’s no way it could be—ah, fuck it.” Your hands cupped either side of his face, pulling him to meet you in the middle. There was no hesitance on either side, mouths moving, tongues dancing, a delicate exploration of new territory, both literally and figuratively. His hands settled on your ribs, fingers flexing, trying to pull you closer when there was already so little space between you. 
When you parted, it wasn’t from a lack of oxygen, but from Daryl attempting to alter the angle, forgetting that you were no longer alone in the land of bum ankles.
“Ow, ow, ow!”
You pulled away and jumped back, hands in the air to ensure he knew that you were no longer touching him—as if he weren’t already missing it. “What? What happened?”
“Ankle.” He hissed, gingerly placing his foot back on the pillow. Once the pain had ebbed, he chuckled and beckoned you back over with a wave. “Looks like we’ll both be trapped at home, sunshine.”
“There are worse things.” You brushed a strand of hair away from his face. “We have to talk about this.” You knew you sounded scared, and you were. Everything had just changed in the blink of an eye, the man you knew as your best friend had just suddenly become more, and it was terrifyingly exciting.
“Yeah, I know. Couch ain’t big enough for both’a our lame asses.”
You giggled and shook your head. “Guess it’s off to Carol’s extra bedroom.” When he arched a dark brow, you etched the most serious expression you could summon onto your face. “Strictly for logical reasoning, Mr. Dixon. We can’t climb stairs. She has one bedroom on the first floor. Lecher.” 
“First time I been called that.” He gave you that smile, the one that was so special, and seeing it then, you realized that he hadn’t given Angie that smile at all. It was yours and yours alone.
And you’d need to thank the gorgeous woman with the bow.
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aphroditelovesu · 11 months ago
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Yan!Boyfriend Percy Jackson headcanons? đŸ©”
❝ 🌊 — lady l: here!! Hope you like it, anon! I want him, is it too much to ask? Sorry for any mistakes. đŸ„čđŸ©”
❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, jealousy, implicit death and toxic relationships.
❝🌊pairing: yandere!percy jackson x gender neutral!reader.
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Percy is good to you, or at least, he tries his best to be good to you. He wants to be a good boyfriend and, if everything goes according to plan, your future husband. He wants to be the best in your life, someone who can never be replaced. You can't replace him. Never.
He tries everything, he does everything and a little more for you. Percy is always paying attention to everything you say, the moment you start talking, his attention will be on you and only you.
By always paying attention to you, and focusing as much of his attention on you as possible, Percy always knows what you need and when you need it. From knowing when you are feeling uncomfortable or even anticipating your actions. Like pulling out a chair for you or covering you with a warm blanket during cold nights. A real gentleman.
Percy is completely obsessive and overprotective, making the relationship suffocating at times. He just has to know that you're okay, he has to be sure that you're safe and that if something were to happen, you would call him without thinking twice. Percy is your protector, he has to protect you at any cost.
He is very sweet and kind, offering loving and encouraging smiles, looks full of devotion and whenever he has the opportunity, he will present you with something that he knows you will like. Especially if it's blue, anything blue.
Your relationship is suffocating, but you can't blame him. He has to care for you, love you and offer his entire being to you. Only for you. Percy knows it's you against the world and he will sacrifice the world for you if necessary. They don't matter, the gods, the humans, the monsters, they are nothing compared to you.
Your favorite moments are when you are in the water. He is a son of Poseidon, he is almost always in the water and having you there, wet and with your clothes stuck to your body, is paradise according to Percy. He loves to see you laugh when he splashes water on you or makes little waves with them, all to your pleasure.
Percy's love language is touching, not always with ulterior motives, but just because he likes it, because he needs it, to touch you, to know you're there. Always having an arm around your waist, or holding your hands, makes him happy because he knows you're there, just as much as he's there for you.
Percy is extremely jealous and possessive of you. He gets jealous very easily, it gets ridiculous, but he knows how to control himself. He'll just do something, to the person who made him jealous, if they cross him, cross you. You are an angel for putting up with all that, all those people. But don't worry, Percy will be with you no matter what.
He can't be away from you, he's too clingy. Percy needs to be close to you, and breathe the same air as you. If you spent all your time at the Camp, he would stay too, if you went to a school on the other side of the country, he would follow you. Everything to stay with you.
If you have to go on a mission, he will be with you. Percy will make sure he is your chosen companion, even if you has to have a third. Due to his overprotection, Percy rarely lets you fight. Even if you are Ares' child, he won't let you get actively involved. He can even put you in one of his water bubbles and send you to a safe place.
On the one hand, it is annoying but very effective. You don't remember a single monster being able to lay a finger on you. So maybe it's not all bad. After all, Percy does everything for love. Just because he loves you more than anything, right?
Percy can be a lot of things, very suffocating but he means well, most of the time. He does all this because he loves you, because he wants the best for you and wants to see you well. Your relationship is defined by your boyfriend's overprotectiveness and insecurity, but everything will be fine as long as you remain by his side. Never leave him or Percy won't be able to control his next actions.
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nahoney22 · 3 months ago
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Oooo, I'm excited for your celebration!!! Congratulations!
Clone: Commander Wolffe
List: NSFW 🔞
Prompts: D17 with S20
Proof of age: I saw Jedi in the theater when it released in 1983. The Rancor will always be my fave creature in the SW universe.
Congrats again! Can't wait to see what you come up with!!
@dreamie411
Make Up Your Mind*** 🌊
đŸ«§ Pairings: Commander Wolffe X Female!Reader
word count: 3k
Prompts:
‱ “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to forget that other guys name.”
‱ “Stars, you're so much better than the last person I was with."
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When Wolffe finally had enough of letting you slip into hands that weren’t his own, he makes sure to remind you who you really belong to.
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only, explicit sexual content and language, mutual pining, minor alcohol consumption, flirting, reader is implied to have done hook-ups before, rough kissing, nudity, fingering, vaginal sex, dom!Wolffe, creampie, confessions of feelings, friends to lovers, tender aftercare.
Authors Note: Sorry for the wait @dreamie411, hope this is okay. đŸ©”
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As you stand behind the bar at 79’s, wiping down the surface, you hear a gravelly voice that you recognise all too well. One would assume it was any of the Clones, but there was something different about the Commander that you just could tell the difference with.
You glance up, locking eyes with the man who has spent far too much time lingering around this bar, and a smirk tugs at your lips. Commander Wolffe is eyeing you with the same intensity he always does, though there’s something unmistakably different in the way he’s watching you now.
“What did you get up to last night?” he asks, voice low but edged with curiosity—or maybe something more.
You raise an eyebrow, already knowing that he’s fully aware of what you were up to. After all, he’d spent the better part of the night silently fuming as you entertained the advances of a flirtatious patron, someone who might’ve turned into a one-night fling if the mood had struck you. You’ve always been casual about these things—no strings attached, just a bit of fun. But judging by Wolffe’s barely-concealed irritation, it’s clear he wasn’t thrilled watching you entertain someone else.
“Just this
 and that,” you answer with a cheeky grin, moving away briefly to serve a trooper from the 212th. When you return, Wolffe is still leaning against the bar, his eyes following your every move. You tilt your head, feigning nonchalance. “Why do you ask?”
He swirls the ice in his empty glass, the tension in his shoulders visible even in the dim strobe lights. “Can’t a man be curious?”
Your gaze sharpens with mischief. “Depends. Not many men are curious about my sex life unless it’s for a reason.”
His jaw clenches ever so slightly, and you relish the way your words get under his skin. There’s a charge in the air between you, a tension that neither of you has been willing to break. “Care for a refill?” you ask, the words slipping out smoothly.
Before he can respond, you reach for his glass, brushing your fingers against his just long enough to feel the warmth of his skin. It’s a fleeting touch, but it sends a ripple through you that’s hard to ignore.
Admitted, you have thought about the idea of being with Wolffe before—how could you not? He’s rugged, disciplined, and there’s an undeniable magnetism in his reserved demeanor. And utterly sexy.
Yet, despite his clear jealousy, he’s never made a move. Maybe it’s the restraint that comes with his rank or the weight of his responsibilities, but it leaves you wondering if it’s just that what holds him back.
You pour him his usual drink, sliding it back across the bar before he can even reach for his credits. As he starts to pay, you place your hand over his, stopping him. “It’s on me, Commander,” you say with a wink.
Wolffe’s voice drops a notch, almost a murmur. “I want to give you something. You deserve it.”
You hum softly, leaning closer across the bar, teasing him with a slow, deliberate gaze that traces from his furrowed brow down to the scar that cuts across his eye, finally resting on his tense, but oh-so-inviting lips. “And what do you think I deserve, hmm?” Your voice is a playful whisper, laced with just enough suggestion to make him falter.
For a brief moment, it’s as if time stops. Wolffe’s attention is locked entirely on your lips, on the way your breath gently fans against his face. The lights of the club dance across your features, casting you in a soft, almost hypnotic glow.
He’s caught, just for a second, torn between giving in to whatever’s been simmering between you two and holding himself back. But as much as he wants to close that distance, something pulls him away.
He takes his drink, your fingers slipping away from his as he steps back, eyes soft with something left unspoken. You watch him walk away, a sigh slipping from your lips.
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When 79’s finally closes for the night, the hum of laughter and music fades into silence as you finish tidying up. The bar is empty, save for the clinking of glasses you swiped from tables and the faint buzz of neon lights overhead. You wave goodnight to the other workers as they exit through the back door, their voices echoing faintly down the corridor. With a tired but satisfied sigh, you begin locking up for the night, turning toward the entrance when you feel the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze.
A knowing smirk pulls at your lips. You don’t need to turn around to recognise who it is. “We’re closed, you know,” you call out, your voice playful.
But when you finally do turn, you find Wolffe leaning against the bar, his back to you, shoulders tense. He doesn’t move at first, the muscles in his back taut under his armor as he collects his thoughts. Something about his posture is different tonight—more guarded, more intense. You step closer, curiosity mingling. “What is it, Commander?” you ask as you lean against the counter beside him.
He straightens up slightly, turning his head just enough for you to catch the edge of his stormy gaze. “I need to talk to you.”
There’s no hint of teasing in his tone, and the seriousness in his eyes causes your flirty retort to falter. You’ve never seen him this conflicted, this on edge and your smirk fades. “What’s going on?” you ask softly, cautious.
For a moment, he just stares at you, a battle clearly raging behind those eyes. And then, with a voice rougher than you’ve ever heard, he speaks. “You drive me mad, you know that?” frustration lacing every word. “Watching you, knowing you’re letting others close when all I can think about is how badly I want you. How I’ve wanted you for longer than I care to admit.”
Your breath catches, pulse quickening at the raw intensity of his confession. Wolffe steps closer, closing the distance between you in one stride, his eyes locking onto yours with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine. “I’m done holding back,” he says, voice dark and laced with that possessiveness you’ve always suspected simmered beneath. “You want to know what I’ve been thinking about? About having you, in every way. About making sure you never forget it’s me you should belong to.”
The heat in his words draws something deep and electric from within you. “Wolffe
” you whisper, but it’s lost as he crowds you against the bar, his body radiating a warmth that sends your senses into overdrive. The look in his eyes is almost feral, desire mixed with a longing that makes your head spin.
His lips are on yours in an instant, rough and claiming, as though he’s been holding back for too long and can’t bear it any longer. You respond in kind, meeting his intensity, hands grasping at his armor as he presses you into the counter. The kiss is a clash of need and frustration, every pent-up emotion pouring into the way his mouth moves against yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, begging for entry which you allow, your fingers tugging in his textured hair as his tongue dominates your own.
When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, your lips swollen from the fervour of it. “I’ll give you everything,” he whispers on your lips, voice a low rumble that reverberates through your chest.
There’s no hesitation in you now. You’ve wanted this just as much as he has, and the fact that he’s finally lost control is exhilarating. “Then show me, Commander,” you challenge.
That’s all the encouragement he needs. In a blur, he lifts you onto the bar, hands sliding possessively over your hips as he steps between your legs. The kiss that follows is deeper, more desperate, fueled by weeks—maybe months—of tension. His hands grip your waist with enough strength to leave marks, as if he’s afraid you might slip away if he lets go.
Wolffe’s lips leave a trail down your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he moans, “You’re mine tonight. No one else. Just me.”
Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, drawing him closer and with a swift, practiced motion, he begins unbuckling his armour, peeling it off piece by piece while his gaze stays fixed on yours, dark with intent. There’s no room for hesitation, only pure, unfiltered desire.
You barely have time to catch your breath before his hands are on you again, yanking your workshirt over your head, fingers deftly working at your waistband before he slides your pants down and panties. The tension is almost unbearable as his calloused hands slide up your thighs, parting them with authority. His lips land on yours again, hungrier than before, biting gently on your lip as he frees himself from the confines of his uniform. When he finally pulls away, both of you are breathless, the air thick with want.
“Been thinking about this for a long time,” he mutters, voice low as his fingers slowly dip between your folds after getting your consent, finding you already slick with need. “You’re dripping for me already. You really want this, don’t you?”
You can’t help but moan softly as his fingers tease you, brushing over your clit before plunging inside. “I’ve wanted this as much as you have,” you manage to gasp, leaning back on your hands for support as his fingers begin to pump into you with a steady, ruthless rhythm.
“Good,” he groans, leaning in close, his breath hot against your ear. “Because you’re about to get exactly what you’ve been craving.” His thumb presses against your clit in tight circles as his fingers curl just right, hitting that spot that makes you shudder and arch against him.
You bite your lip, stifling the cry that threatens to spill out as your hips rock into his touch. The intensity of his gaze, the way he watches your every reaction—it’s overwhelming. “How’s that feel?” he taunts, voice thick with a mix of pride and lust. “Am I as good as you imagined?”
A wicked grin spreads across your face as you look down at him, voice dripping with teasing satisfaction. “Stars, you’re so much better than the last person I was with.”
That earns a deep, possessive moan from him, and his pace quickens, fingers plunging deeper, harder. “You think I’m going to let you go to anyone else after this? Not a chance,” he hisses, clearly spurred on by your words. “I’m going to make sure I’m the only one you think about from now on.” His gaze is locked on your cunt as his fingers curl inside you
Your response is lost in a choked gasp as he withdraws his fingers suddenly, leaving you momentarily empty. You whine at him for stopping but your words are caught in your mouth as you watch him pull his cock free, only for him to then line himself up against you. At first he teases your sentence pearl with his aching tip, feeling you shudder against him. Then, with one fluid thrust, he buries himself inside you, filling you completely.
The stretch is intense, and you can’t help the cry that escapes your lips. He feels perfect—thick and unyielding, just what you’ve been aching for. He groans, hips stuttering as he buries his face into your neck. Then he pulls back and cups your jaw with his hand, making sure every word he’s about to say sinks in; “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll forget that other guy’s name.”
The need between you both is primal, each thrust deep and purposeful as he claims you in the way he’s been fantasising about for far too long. His hands grip your hips with bruising force as he drives into you, the wet sound of your bodies moving together mingling with the breathless moans that spill from your lips.
“Tell me how good it is,” he commands, voice rough as his pace picks up, your legs tightening around him. “Tell me how much you like the way I fuck you.”
You don’t hold back, your voice a breathy moan. “It’s so good, Wolffe. So much better than anyone else. You’re the only one who can give it to me like this.”
That spurs him on, his movements becoming almost punishing as he growls your name, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “You’re mine tonight,” he breathes against your neck, the words possessive yet laced with something deeper. “No one else is ever going to touch you like this again.”
Your body tightens around him, every ridge of his cock brushing against your walls. Pleasure builds within you until it’s impossible to hold back any longer. “Fuck,” he groans, head tipping back briefly before his eyes lock onto yours again. “You feel incredible.”
When your release finally crashes over you, it’s intense, your vision going white as your muscles clench around him, drawing a guttural moan from his throat. He doesn’t let up, riding you through your orgasm, praising you, until he’s right there with you, thrusts growing erratic until he spills into you with a deep groan, his forehead resting against yours as he tries to catch his breath.
For a moment, the only sounds are the heavy breathing and the faint hum of the bar’s lights. Wolffe’s hands remain firm on your hips, almost as if he’s still afraid to let go. When he finally pulls back, there’s a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.
Before you can ask, Wolffe’s hands gently cup your face, his thumbs brushing tenderly along your cheeks. There’s a softness in his gaze now, something you’ve never seen before. His fierce determination melts away, replaced by something far more vulnerable.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, voice thick with emotion. His thumbs continue to trace delicate patterns on your skin as if memorising every contour of your face. “I’ve watched you for so long; how you smile, how you laugh. How you take care of people, even when you think no one notices. You’re not just beautiful—you’re kind, too. And it drives me crazy because you deserve more than just a quick fling. You deserve someone who sees you for all that you are.”
His words hit you harder than any of the passion you’ve shared so far. Your heart stutters at the sincerity in his voice, the way his eyes soften as he holds your gaze. For a moment, the world outside fades, leaving only the two of you in this small, quiet moment. You’ve seen Wolffe as a soldier, a leader, but now, you see him as a man—a man who’s been holding back something real, something deep.
“Wolffe,” you breathe out, touched by his unexpected confession. “I—”
He doesn’t let you finish, leaning in to kiss you with a gentleness that contrasts the rough desire you shared moments before. The kiss is slow, unhurried, a silent acknowledgment of what’s blooming between you. His lips move against yours with reverence, taking his time as if savoring each moment.
When he finally pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, breath mingling with yours in the stillness. “You’re not just someone I want in passing,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “I want you for more than just tonight.”
Your chest tightens with warmth, a rare vulnerability breaking through your usual confidence. You reach up, running your fingers through his hair, grounding him in this moment. “I’ve wanted you too, more than you know. Not just for what we have now, but for what we could be.”
He studies your face for a moment, as if committing your every feature to memory, then smiles—a small, genuine curve of his lips. “I’m done hiding how I feel,” he says quietly. “You’re mine, but I’ll also be yours, in every way that matters.”
With that, he kisses you again, this time with a perfect balance of passion and tenderness, his need still evident but tempered by something deeper, more meaningful.
It’s not long until a second round of passion ensues, this time him stripping himself completely bare as he lifts you and moves you towards one of the booths for a more comfier setting. He lays you down, crawling over the top of you as his erection firms and pushes into you once again.
“Tell me how it feels,” he moans softly in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.
You can’t help but smile, the words slipping out between moans. “Beautiful
 perfect. Nobody has ever made me feel this way.” You whimper, the sound of his cock sliding in and out of your already dampened and filled pussy stirring your crazy.
That longing glint returns to his eyes, but this time, it’s mixed with the affection he just bared to you. “Good,” he murmurs, his pace picking up slightly, his hands never leaving your skin. “Because I’m going to make damn sure you never want anyone else.ïżœïżœ
The rhythm between you builds again, the intensity returning as his movements grow more insistent, more determined to claim you in every way possible. But there’s a new layer to it now.
His touch was something deeper, more profound, and it’s shown in the way his lips brush against your skin, the way his hands hold you like you’re something precious. Like a porcelain doll.
As you both approach that edge again, the tension coils tight, your bodies perfectly in sync. The pleasure mounts higher and higher until it crests, a shared release that leaves you both trembling and breathless. You collapse into him, clinging to his shoulders as he holds you steady, his own breath coming out in ragged pants. “Mesh’la,” he breathes, kissing your forehead gently.
For a while, neither of you move, caught in the afterglow. But then, Wolffe gently lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I want you,” he says again, “No games, no hiding. I want us—for real, whatever it takes.”
You smile, reaching up to cup his face, thumb brushing over the scar near his eye. “Then we’ll make it real. But
 What about your status? You’ll be reprimanded.”
“Status be damned,” he growls at the thought of the GAR taking you away from him.
You’ve crossed a line, and there’s no going back. But for once, neither of you care.
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🌊 Masterlist is Pinned 🌊
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