#Implying Heart also bites his lips sometimes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shaisuki · 1 month ago

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❝ I TAKE IT BACK, IT'S THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT.ᐟ ❞

FEATURING. ISAGI YOICHI, BACHIRA MEGURU, NAGI SEISHIRO, NIKO IKKI

NOTES. based on a requests from my previous blog. yandere blue lock boys reacting to their chubby s/o being happy despite being rejected by them and shit happened

CONTENT WARNINGS. implied noncon + dubcon + dark themes + yandere characters + obsessive themes + possessiveness + multiple orgasms + creampies + mating press + dacryphilia + nipple play + breeding kink + kidnapping.

SYNOPSIS. ahhh. soccer players and their indomitable egos. such a pain they can't even apologize to the love of their life after taking them away. their desired significant others whom they love to spoil so much to cover the wrongdoings. it's all good and forgotten when they make you cum over and over again.

ISAGI YOICHI

“i hate you. did you know that.” you say to him out of the blue while you both laid in the king-sized bed located in the bedroom of his mansion. isagi perks up at your confession. sitting up while his big blue eyes gaze at your plush form. the dark silk night gown in the color of his eyes sensually covers your body. showing the bits of your body. the gown riding up exposing your creamy and big thighs. pressed together while you place your foot in his chest.

“i didn't know that, princess. care to tell me why?” you almost roll your eyes at his faux tone. sweet is yoichi to the eyes of mama and papa isagi but he's far from that to you. long are the days gone where sweet and adorable yo-chan is the apple of the eyes. calculating and can be a real jerk sometimes but treats you like the goddess you are. spoiled and pampered you are to the athlete. “you took me away from family and friends after you rejected me.” the striker raises a brow at you. a smile gracing in his lips at the memory.

it was a victory party after winning another match and the team decided to celebrate in a bar. there he spots a familiar face and body. dancing through the neon lights and the loud music. your plump body gracefully moving in the rhythm oblivious to the pair of blue eyes staring right at you. his eyes burning with rage and jealousy seeing you grinding with a guy that approached you. why wouldn't he? you were freshly rejected by him at your confession and now you're flirting, well grinding with a stranger you didn't know.

how fast can you move on and isagi started to regret it. he should have been the one to confess to you and maybe you can reject him but he won't allow it so he did what he can. took you away from that crowd. he was taught to get what he desired and you were the one who took his heart the same day and the very night he have seen you dancing with a stranger so he did what he thinks is right.

“isagi?” his name smoothly rolls from your tongue and isagi bites back a smile. it looks like you still didn't forget him. “oh hey. pretty fast you can move on after being rejected.” he commented and you scoffed at him. his gaze locked to your glossy lips and meeting your eyes filled with annoyance. “yep. can't stay sad after that. too many fish in the sea to stay on one.” you quipped at him and it ticked isagi to hear you say that.

“oh really?” a wolfish grin is painted on his face after hearing you say that. grabbing your wrist after almost leaving him making you yelp at the tight grip he holds you. “really.” you replied to him with much heat and his eyes seem to like glow despite the dizzying neon lights. pulling your wrist from his grip. isagi shakes his head at you. “you don't get to accept my rejection that fast, princess.” isagi challenges at you and you won't back out just because he's now mr. hotshot who rejected you. “make me.” and that was the last words you utter after him taking you outside and that was also the last time you've seen your friends. he took that as a challenge.

now, three years later. you're married to isagi yoichi, a pro-athlete with money overflowing flowing from his club. living with you in a multimillion dollar mansion he have brought to keep you secured and away from the predatory gaze of other men who wants the wife of isagi yoichi. mrs. isagi is untouchable and is believe to be the most spoiled wife out of wives of a pro-athlete at all time. that's what the media dubbed you as.

“aww—shit.” isagi groans as his pelvis slams to the back of your thighs. his cock being buried deeper inside your hole weeping with juices while his palms pressed in the sides of your waist. “i remember. can't help it, princess. it's either i'm going to make you mine or murder that motherfucker.” you badly want to tell isagi's parents how rough their son is to you. you can only squeal while being impaled by his huge cock.

“yoichi—ahhh” your toes curl. back arching as isagi continues to piston his length deep inside you. rapidly moving his hips. shaping your hole with the girth of his cock. “i know you hated me but it's better than to see in the arms of a another man that is me. that's why i always spoil you.”

“i-i don't need your money, yoichi.” you moaned out. your legs folded and almost touching your chest. your stomach are also in the same fate. your belly rolls stacked together. jiggling at the harsh impact of your husband's thrusts to your pussy that continued to gush with juices. squelching at the combined friction of isagi's cock repeatedly assaulting your abused pussy.

a whine ripped from your throat as your orgasm hits you. sending shock after shock of waves rippling throughout your body. isagi leans down to kiss the skin between the valley of your breasts before taking a nipple in his mouth. latching like a baby while his eyes never leaves your face morphing into a form of pleasure he's seen many times.

groaning he fills you up with his cum deep inside you. “too bad, princess. you're married to me. maybe, i'll breed this fat pussy of yours. get you pregnant. big and swollen for me.”

“you want that? of course, you'll want that. body perfect to give me babies.” isagi chuckles. you can't even make a coherent sentence from the way you babbled. drunk on his cock and he'll really do it. get you pregnant so you won't think about those things and you'll only think to care for his baby.

“you're squeezing me—hah, shit!” isagi curses out loud. dumping his load again to you and by the time he was done. he admires the piece of work he have made. his chubby wife, spread wide on his bed, cum leaking between your legs and you're filled to the brim.

BACHIRA MEGURU

bachira have this appetite that can't be quelled and he's more like a predator setting his eyes on a unsuspecting prey and then he's ready to sink his fangs through the flesh of his victim.

he was simply satiated when he first met you. no hunger in those honey-golden eyes of his nor the playful glint. it would be the last you're meeting him. bachira would have applauded you for your guts to confess to him out of all the players when girls and women alike avoided him. simply for being eccentric. he didn't mind it and when he's presented like this, you and your pretty eyes shimmering with anticipation for his answer, he wants to accept but that would be boring so a rejection followed through. he kind of feel of bad. sort of.

there wasn't an admiration nor desire he feels for you and besides you will move on and that's when he regrets it.

it was like you were reborn overnight. you confessed to him dressed like a church girl with lace and ribbons in a summer dress and here you are, a wild thing. dancing in the middle of a dance floor. in a tight top that spills the chub of your stomach, tits jiggling through the fabric, hair loose. your skirt too short that with the length you will be flashing everyone with your ass to see. you didn't even see him staring right at you. he should have gone for the kill, instead he was standing in the corner. a grin in his face and the glint in his eyes. something dangerous. something playful. he didn't pounced on you right away. where will be the thrill of it if he can't play.

"fuck-ahh" you moaned out your hand gripping the brown and yellow strands of his haiar. his face into one of a glee. licking his lips frrom the harsh thrusts of his hips to your plump ass. colliding with such impact as the same as his cock pound your hole.

you hold the sink like it was your lifeline. gripping it tightly to avoid yourself from falling in the club bathroom's floor while bachira scrambled your insides.

"f-fuck you—bachira." god. you were having difficulty from how you spoke with him fucking you so good. "i'm already doing it—fuck. you feel so good. you're milking me dry." he pantsou. holding the plumpness of your stomach that his nails dig and will leave bruises.

it's embarrassing how the sounds coming from your mouth are spilling continously. the sounds you didn't know you were capable of. it also didn't help that he's fucking you in the women's bathroom just because it was unoccupied in the moment and the fucker didn't even lock it. knowing that any given moment there will someone who'll walk in and see you both fucking like animals in heat. he's a freak. his tastes including fucking you publicly. you doubt that someone will dare to enter inside considering you were loudly moaning how good he feels inside you.

bachira meguru is a exhibitionist. you can see from the way he grins. having his reflection in the mirror and the way his eyes glint behind you.

"god, bachira. do you even like me?" you asked him. toes clenching. catching your breath cause every time he buries his dick deeper to you, the air in your lungs gets knocked out. the onslaught relentless.

"i won't be fucking you if i don't." he rasps out, his hands moving to squeeze the flesh of your round stomach to feel it move while his other hand is holding a tit to fondle. pinching your nipple that your back arches more from the stimulation. you only realized that he's deeply pressed against to you when you feel his lean body. his hot breath tickling your ears.

"sshh. don't speak." he said and that's what you did even you can still resist him and when you tumbled to your pleasure. bachira following through. you were utterly helpless and that's the time bachira came to terms with his newfound feelings.

NAGI SEISHIRO

"i'm not interested."

you already anticipated that answer amd you were prepared for it. you have been warned about it. nagi seishiro won't commit and put himself in a strenous relationship. a confession to nagi won't ened well. he's lazy. he can't even spare a glance to you even if you were a video game but you're not. nodding, you left shortly. accepting the face that nagi won't look at you the way you wanted him to be.

"cheers!" your girlfriends shouted despite the loud booming music of the club. the glass clinking to each other drowning in the sound of the other patrons who are also doing the same. you were glad for your girlfriends to drag you out after your confession instead of letting you rot in your place. "there's no need to be sad about that, girl. many fish to pick." extending her arm, hand holding a drink to show you the sea of bodies moving in the middle of the dancefloor. encouraging you to let go and forget about what happened. taking a gulp from your drink. it gave you the courage to be bold. the rejection might be good to you. realizing that if nagi accepted you, you will be stuck in a loveless and effortless relationship to a man who finds everthing a drag. nagi can't even lift a finger to take care of himself how would it be different to you. that was a bullet you dodged there.

and that was a joke. you took that back and you find yourself again to him. trapped in the gray-colored eyes of his. large irises are bigger from they way he usually looks at you. you believed it was even a enthusiasm in those eyes of his right now looking at you.

"nagi?" you call to him mere seconds after accidentally bumping to him. you didn't expect that he would be a club out of all places and you see his teammates behind him. he was probably got dragged out the same way as your girlfriends did to you. you paid him no mind and began to make way back at your girlfriends. before you could turn around you were stopped by a large hand holding your round shoulder. his hand cold against the warmth of the exposed skin of your shoulder.

you shot a look at him. holding his wrist to remove his hand from your shoulder. that when you're abou tto reach the success of unlatching his hold to you. he placed his other hand. placing them firmly to your shoulder and that's when you lost it.

"n-nagi! l—" you weren't given the chance to continue to speak when a pair of lips connected to your own. everything around you to spin and you blame the alcohol for it. you shaked your head to clear your thoughts and put them in order. you were stunned. confused for a bit before turning into one of an anger. "let go of me, nagi!" you fumed. punching his chest with closed fists which had put no damage on him and again but his quick reflexes catch the incoming punch you were about to throw again. he holds your wrist before planting a another kiss on you. "mmmph!" is the sound you made after that and you were speechless. intoxicated with nagi's kisses to your lips.

the color of your irises meets gray-ones when you opened them. nagi have taken you home with him and your back hits the softness of the mattress of his bed. if he wasn't too impatient and annoyed with your clothes obstructing your body from him, it should still be on one piece but the desperation and need left you naked and bare for him. nagi was also in a rush. clumsily removing his shirt. showing the muscles he gained from being a pro-soccer player. nagi almost dwarfs you and wasted no time sinking his cock to your hole.

a pained gasp coming from you upon his large cock entered you. nagi didn't even bother to stretch you and only rubbed your slit to get it wet and then without a second thought plunging his cock deep inside you. the pain only lasted for a second before the pleasure took over.

"so soft." nagi huffs. burying his face between your breasts. nuzzling at the skin and placing sloppy kisses on them. letting out a hum of satisfaction and growls while his hips move in a manner that left you to see white and becoming a moaning mess underneath him. you can't move. the reason being crushed by nagi's weight confident that you can take him with your plump stature and that you can only wrapped your chunky legs behind him. just above his buttocks.

it was too much of a hassle.

you weren't even worth of the effort and when he sees you dancing without a care, he got drawn. it was like a unknown force pulling him to get close to you. the desire to be near you. when he forced you to be with him. all he can see is the roundness of your face. brows furrowing in annoyance and your lips in a pout. moving and saying something about him not wanting you and toying with your feelings. that's the reason he can't date anyone. they would be too much for him and he would be too nonchalant to care about it. any kinds of intimacy is he can't give to someone but to you he can try. and that way is to fuck senselessly that you won't bother to find someone who is not him. nagi would simply make you his. something he owned. something he would treasure and keep.

he simly can't get of your softness. he feels you over and over with his hands. caressing and squeezing every flesh he can touch.

that when he's already pumped you full of his cum. he finds it surprsing that he can still go on and that's when nagi starts to slowly put efforts in things if he wanted to keep you and it was worth it. he can even take you from the people you used to love and your eyes will only be for him.

NIKO IKKI

he got twisted so much with the media that he doesn't even see the real beauty of yours after he rejected you. consumed by the beauty standards and imagines himself with someone who's the same as the characters in his anime. the same slender, busty girls that would come up to him and comfort him that he's the best unlike you the very opposite of them.

niko regretted it until the very end why he rejected and seeing you so happy without him. that's why he reasoned and made efforts to win you back and you were stubborn as you were pretty and you left him no choice but to take you.

you find him crying at top of you. apologizing that he have to do this and niko's pretty teal eyes are glossed with tears. you didn't know that his eyes were the prettiest shade of teal until he reveals it to you and from your position you can see his eyes not covered by his hair. it's the first time you have seen and it was so fucked up to wake up at his bed.

you know what to do at situations like this. struggling will trigger him to keep you locked up and coddling him will just keep you attached to him but was that the point of your confession to him? you wanted niko and the rejection doesn't take good in your tongue. it's a embarrassment and he's on yours again. wanting you. you still have some pride left on yourself to throw back yourself at niko who have thrown you away.

he look so pathetic above you. crying his eyes out. tears dripping and plopping down in your skin. “oh, niko.” you reached out to him. pulling him to yours and letting him cry out to your body. you cooed and hums at him softly. threading your fingers over the strands of his ink-colored fluffy hair. “i'm sorry.” you hear mutter to your skin. “it's okay.” your voice soft and you were surprised at the tenderness of your voice at him when you're supposedly to be angry at him. grabbing his cheek that is pressed to your stomach and making him look at you.

“it's fine. 's fine, niko.” you repeatedly say to him and niko melts at your voice. soothing his broken heart when he rejected you and you're being this good at him.

leaning down to meet his face, you pressed a small kiss to his lips. a little longer than you would have liked before pulling and watch niko's surprised face and then he grabs your face for him to kiss and then again and again until you two were both moaning from each other's feeling of lips.

“niko, you're being t-too rough.” you stutter. holding his shoulders to steady yourself while you bounced on his dick. eyes fluttering from the sensation of his cock repeatedly rubbing against your velvety walls making you clench around him.

the man below doesn't say anything. only a grunt all is he can muster. taking control over your body. holding your plump waist while he thrusts his cock upwards. assaulting your fat cunt with such desperation. afraid that you'll disappear on him. your back arches, making you throw your head back when his cock nudged a special spot deep inside you. noticing the change, niko continued to hit that and turned you into one of a uncontrollable moaning mess. your body taking autopilot in bouncing on his cock.

he takes a nipple to his mouth. your breasts bouncing in front of him and moaned at the taste of tit in his mouth. sucking on it and rolling his tongue around it. almost biting it.

“niko! fuck! i'm going to cum!” you cried out. it was too good. too good that you can't take it anymore. niko sped up his thrusts cause he's close too and it's being painfully good not to bust inside you cause he's been dreaming of it. he made sure that his cock is buried deep inside you before releasing his load. spilling his cum deep inside you. warming your insides with the thick goodness he have that triggers you also to cum. releasing the clear liquid, spraying it on niko's lap which he didn't mind.

“you're going to be with me?” he asks. niko's stare intensifying at you. “yeah.” you say before crashing your lips into his.

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pretty-little-mind33 · 1 year ago

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James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Sometimes your lovely boyfriend can have a hard time with the word 'no'.

Genre: Fluff <3

Warnings: swearing, discussions of consent (nothing bad happens at all!! I promise!), implied sexual relationship

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

James didn't always know when too much was, well, too much.

He had this impulsive tendency to take things way too far. Of course he always had the best of intentions, it was just that sometimes his initial excitement would cloud his judgment. Like now, when no matter how many times you insisted, he couldn't take your, "No, I don't want to swim in the freezing water," seriously.

"Come on! Everyone's in, sweetheart!" James whines childishly.

He isn't wrong. All your friends play happily in the water while you sit on the bank of the lake. It's an early summer morning and the air is still too chilly for you to even consider jumping in, so you've adamantly (and politely) declined all their invitations to join them.

However, your darling boyfriend can't seem to accept the no.

"James, love, I will hex you if you don't shut up." You warn with a playful smirk. Sirius uses James's distraction to splash him, which makes the latter squeal. Remus wraps his arm around James's neck, pulling him half-way into the murky water. When they emerge, they laugh breathlessly.

You adjust the strap of your bikini over your shoulder and simply lay your head on your arms as you smile at them.

"You are in your bathing suit, Y/n." Lily reasons with a small smirk and you glare at her. Traitor, you think, she's supposed to be on your side.

"Exactly, thank you, Lily!" James jumps up and starts to waddle through the water towards you. He's dripping wet when he stands over you, bends over, and shakes his hair. You cover your head with your arms as small, practically freezing, droplets of water hit your warm skin.

"James!" You exclaim and scramble up to move away from him.

You hear Remus, Sirius, and Lily chuckle in amusement before they turn around and mind their own business. Traitors.

Your boyfriend just sends you smirk and outsretches his arms, "Hug?" He honeys, faking a pout.

You hold out your arm, "Get away, you nutter." You say sternly.

"Please." James sounds more sincere now and moves towards you a little.

You squint at him, hiding a smile behind a look of suspicion, and ask him, "Just one?"

James nods.

You pick up your towel from the grass and then throw it to him. James catches it and dries his hair. He also starts to pat himself dry as you approach him wearily, "I don't bite, lovie." He laughs.

You roll your eyes, still believing him. However, the moment you're close enough to him he's wrapping the towel around your ass and pulling you into him.

You make a small shriek as you hit his, still extremely wet, chest and his lips attach themselves to your neck as he nips at your skin. You squirm and when he looks up, an adorably stupid look on his face makes your heart leap, "I lied." He points out with another pout.

You frown, "You're an absolute idiot."

"Probably." He admits and then, with no warning, picks you up and throws you over his shoulder.

You hit his back, "James Potter, put me down now or I swear I’ll bloody murder you, you wanker." You cry as he turns around and you just know he's already making his way towards the lake. You kick your legs and flail your arms in protest but feel his cold, damp, hands tighten around your waist.

"Careful, mate." Remus tries to warn him but James doesn't listen. He's already almost waist deep in the water and he lets you fall into his arms. You clutch onto his neck and squirm.

"No." You hiss and stare into his eyes.

Again, James isn't the best at knowing when to stop.

"Sorry, love" He whispers and proceeds to throw you a few feet away from him. Your head hits the water and instantly, the temperature shocks you as your ears start to ring from the impact. You let yourself stay underwater, a little surprised by the depth, and collect yourself. You realize James doesn't know you're a good swimmer, all he knows is he just launched his poor, unwilling girlfriend into freezing water.

So, you stay under as long as you possibly can. Just to scare him a little.

Barely a few seconds pass by before strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you to the surface, "Y/n!" You hear James's voice as the water drains from your ears, "Are you okay?"

You splash him, your hand hitting his cheek playfully, "I hate you." You say with a small smile.

James's face relaxes, “You fucking scared me." He admits, half-scolding, half-relieved, and holds you close.

You laugh and stand up in the water, "It's not that deep, idiot." You scrunch your nose when he uses both of his hands to move strands of hair from your face as he peppers kisses all over your cheeks.

"Merlin, don't do that ever again, Y/n." He whispers.

"Maybe don't throw me into the water when I asked you not to." You retort and push your hair back.

James looks a little guilty, "Yeah, sorry."

He leans in to kiss you but you turn his head around, "No." You say and James frowns.

"No?"

"No." You fight a smile.

"Okay." James says, confused, and dunks under the water. He comes back up and pushes his hair away from his forehead.

"See, it's not that hard." You tease him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He nuzzles his cheek into the crook of your neck,

"That's a completely different situation, love." He tries to reason but you shake your head.

"Consent is consent." You inform and James pouts like a child.

"Now you're making me sound like a dick." He whispers, embarrassed, "You don't actually think I'm bad with consent, do you, Y/n?" He sounds genuinely concerned.

"You're not a dick, Jamie." You laugh, "You are a little bad with the concept of the word no, though."

"Hey! Not when it really matters!" He defends, carefully wrapping your legs around his waist. He starts to roam around the water like it's just the two of you, alone in your little bubble.

You nod, "Of course, but it does matter all the time."

James tilts his head, "Yeah, you're right, I'm sorry, honey.” He kisses behind your ear, "How can I make it up to you?" You giggle and lean in to kiss his lips, which he accepts graciously.

"You know what you can do?" You ask in a whisper into his ear, "You can take me upstairs and I'll let you — " You make sure the rest can't be heard by your friends.

James's eyes sparkle excitedly, but then he pauses and his eyebrows furrow as he thinks, "And you consent, yeah?" You grin, endeared, "Just say no and I'll listen, baby."

"Good boy. You learn fast."

James groans and kisses you again, "Call me a good boy again, please." He mutters as his lips trail down your neck.

You laugh. He wraps his arms around your waist and you hold onto him, "Behave, Potter."

"Tease." He says and suddenly drops you into the water. You emerge and splash him, your smile hurting your cheeks.

"Perv." You retort and James raises his brow. He grins and throws you over his shoulder again. This time, you don't protest and just wave as you walk by your friends.

"Do we even want to know why you're leaving?" Remus shouts, shaking his wet hair from next to Sirius.

"They're going to have sex, Moony. Keep up." The latter rolls his eyes.

"Gross." Lily scrunches her nose. Your friends turn their heads when they hear your amused squeal and see James dig his fingers into your side, making you laugh, as you pick up your belongings. You hit him with your towel but hold his hand anyway.

"Sometimes, I do hate how cute they are." Peter mutters to himself.

"Aww, I can give you a kiss if you want, Wormtail." Sirius jokes which earns him a splash from Remus and an eye roll from Lily.

"Bugger off." Peter looks horrified.

"Pucker up." Sirius cries and lunges at Peter in the water, only to be pulled away by Remus and you can hear their laughter even from far away.

You look at James. James, your lovely, sometimes stupid, boyfriend and his messy dark curls. He's all you had ever asked for, and all you could ever want.

"I love you." You say, adoringly.

James turns his head, an obnoxiously proud look on his face, "I love you more, my love. More than you can ever imagine." He pulls you into him, his hand leaving yours to wrap around your shoulder as he reaches for your opposite hand.

You hand it to him and grin when he squeezes it. You feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

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tightjeansjavi · 10 months ago

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warm me up

A/N: the voices won this round! @strang3lov3 & @speckledemerald also, this was my first time writing game!joel 👀 this could also be show!joel if that's what you're into! This fic really got away from me today and I didn't think it would be nearly as long as I planned it to be..but that's just sometimes how things work out 😉 huge thank u to Bug for making me this cute lil mood board and I LOVE the deers!!🤍

~word count: 3.3k~

Summary: while on patrol, you and Joel find yourselves caught in a treacherous snowstorm.

Pairing I game!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: smut (explicit & implicit) enemies to lovers, implied age gap (non-specific) consent, cock warming, one sleeping bag trope, close proximity, using one's body warmth for survival, denial of feelings, mean!joel, grumpy!joel, reader is a spitfire and gets under Joel's skin easily, joel has a big cock! He is a big big man! teasing, banter, sexual tension, fluff, foul language, pet names: (darlin, sweetheart, and princess) reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING!

Joel is freezing, shaking like a goddamn leaf. It’s ironic, given his disposition. You should have tried to retrace your steps back to Jackson hours ago, but the winter was unforgiving, and the two of you have found yourselves in a real pickle; a frozen one.

“I told you that we were going to end up getting lost out here, Joel.” You grumble alongside him with your arms crossed over your chest. Your teeth are chattering, and it’s grinding his gears.

“We ain’t fuckin’ lost, sweetheart.” He gruffs back and adjusts his rifle strap along his shoulder. “I know where I’m goin.’”

You scoff at this because if he did know where he was going, you wouldn’t be fucking lost in a fucking blizzard right now!

“Right. I’m sure you do know where you’re going, Joel.” You mutter sarcastically under your breath.

He whips around to face you, cheeks speckled in red from the cold and even in the lowlight, you can see individual snowflakes sticking to his lashes.

“Alright, miss ‘I know everything.’ Which way do you think we should go?” He awaits your answer with a cocked brow and his lips pursed together. They’re severely cracked and on the verge of bleeding from the bitter cold.

“Not the direction we’re currently headed, that’s for damn sure! Let’s just fucking turn around and retrace our steps.” You bite back and watch the way that his jaw ticks from your tone. God, you’re a real thorn in this man’s side.

“Retrace our steps?” He laughs, shaking his head to the side and sucks in a harsh cold breath of air into his lungs. “The snow has covered up our tracks, you idiot.” He’s so fucking condescending, and you’ve just about had enough with his shit attitude for one day. Your blood is positively boiling under your thick layer of clothes, and you’d much rather succumb to Mother Nature and her wrath than spend another minute with this insufferable, annoying, mean, and painfully handsome man.

“Fuck you, Joel. I’m retracing my steps whether you have a say in it or not!” You snap and turn on your heel before you feel a rough, gloved-clad hand grasp your upper arm and yank you back towards a hard and very solid presence at your back.

“Quit your fuckin’ yappin!’” He barks against the shell of your ear. His voice is rasped, crackling like a roaring fire. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere without me, you got that?!” His grip around your arm only tightens when you tried to shove him away, but he’s built like a fucking steel fridge, and you’re no match for him.

“Then stop being a fucking asshole, Joel! I’d rather freeze to death out here than spend another minute with you!”

You mean every word. Well, you think that you do.

He sneers at your attempt to wound him with your words, as if a man with a heart made out of pure concrete can possibly be affected by the means of your figurative little daggers. They ricochet off his body and fall to the snow, disappearing under a sheet of white. “I wouldn’t have to be an asshole if you would just fuckin’ listen for once in your life! God, when we get back, and we will, I’m tellin’ Tommy that I ain’t ever goin’ on patrol with your ass again.”

His steel-like grip loosens when you don’t immediately bite back like he expects you too. He wants you to fight back, to call him names and send his own blood boiling because at least then he feels alive.

“Fine. We’ll do it your way.” You nearly whisper and bite down on the inside of your cheek, tasting harsh copper on your tongue.

“Fine.” He agrees and finally releases your arm. “We’re gonna wait out this damn storm for the night, and then tomorrow we’ll retrace our steps home. Who knows, sweetheart. Tommy might have already sent out a search party for us.”

“Let’s fucking hope that’s the case. The sooner this storm lets up, the better.” You think you’re going to cry, but you push your tears down as far as you possibly can. You have to conserve your energy, after all. Besides, Joel Miller isn’t worth your precious tears. Not even close.

He begins to survey the surrounding area. The woods offered some reliable cover with the thick evergreens acting as a shield from the treacherous wind. The snow is still falling in large flakes, but he might be able to get a fire going if he’s lucky.

“We should..probably y’know, share a sleepin’ bag for extra heat.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, feeling kinda silly in the moment because what did he have to be nervous for? His reasoning for sharing warmth was logical. It was just his survival instincts kicking in, right?

You, on the other hand, were unfazed by his request. Sure, it made perfect sense to share body heat with this man. Why the hell did he look so distraught over it - weirdo.

“Did Bear Grylls teach you that, Miller?” You look at him with a smirk playing on your lips. “If that’s the case, then we should probably sleep naked.”

That feeling that had laid dormant for so long, was beginning to reawaken and defrost at the thought of your warm, pliant, soft body being tucked up around him in close proximity. You were annoying, sure, and he could hardly tolerate your presence, but he couldn’t deny that you were a thing of beauty, and neither could his cock.

“No. Some reality TV star didn’t teach me the survival skills that I know, sweetheart. I’m jus’ that good.” He sounds cocky, full of himself and perhaps there’s a bit of eagerness detected in his tone? Maybe the dead giveaway is the way his cheeks flush, and this time it isn’t because of the cold.

You shrug and drop your pack and sleeping bag at your boots. “Whatever you say, Joel.”

He clears his throat and drops his hand from where it was resting against the back of his neck. He stares at you for a second longer than he would have liked to, and then announces that he’s going to go find some wood for a fire, and for you to stay put.

You wave him off and unroll your sleeping bag with a huff and begin to mentally question how the hell is this grizzly of a man going to fit inside of your sleeping bag? Oh well! Time to defy all the odds that have been stacked against you.

When Joel returns, he finds you already tucked away under the sleeping bag with your clothes neatly folded on top of your backpack. He managed to find a few fallen tree branches that would make good kindling, and some thicker logs for the base of the fire.

He avoids making direct eye contact with you as he crouches down and constructs a fire that he hopes to god will keep the two of you warm throughout the cold night ahead.

You already have taken notice of his suddenly quiet and almost docile demeanor with just your head visible and peeking out of the sleeping bag

“Are you sure that fire is going to last the night, Joel?”

His shoulders and back immediately tense from your question and you can already picture him clenching his jaw and muttering under his breath.

“Ain’t no tellin’ if it will last the night, sweetheart.” He stokes at the ember glowing logs with the end of a spare stick before looking over his shoulder at you. “Y’comfy in there?” His voice rasps, dipping down an octave and sounding much, much, lower.

“Yep.” You chirp. “Nice and cozy in here, Joel. Did I mention it’s very, very warm?”

He snorts under his breath, tearing his gaze away from you and focuses back on the fire. “Yeah. I bet it is.”

What you really want to say is: and it would be even warmer if you were here with me. But you refrain, and instead bury your face further into the contained warmth emitting from the sleeping bag.

Joel is hesitating, and that part couldn’t be anymore obvious based on his tense stature. Maybe he could just accept losing feeling in his fingers and toes instead of crossing that boundary with you. Or, he could man up and deal with the immediate feelings that would come as soon as his hands would inevitably touch your warm skin.

“Joel?”

Your voice tears him away from his thoughts briefly. “Hm?”

“Aren’t you..cold?”

Freezing. My cock and balls are about to fuckin’ fall off.

“M’fine.” He insists.

“So goddamn stubborn.” He hears you mutter under your breath followed by the sound of the sleeping bag zipper being pulled down. “Get in here before you freeze to death. I’m serious, Joel.”

“Fuck off. I said m’fine.” He grumbles and turns over his shoulder to look at you once more. His eyes catch a sliver of skin, a nipple peeking out from under the fabric as you were sitting up. His head whips around so fast he swears that his brain just got rattled around in his skull.

“Would you just be a fucking man and take your clothes off and get in here?”

So impatient, he thinks.

“You jus’ wanna see me naked.” He quips back.

“For fuck sakes, Joel. I just don’t want you to freeze out here. Is that so hard to believe?”

Yes.

“Jus’..don’t peek. Alright?” He slowly stands up from his place alongside the fire as he starts to shuck his heavy coat off his shoulders.

“Fine. I won’t peek, okay? Scouts honor.” You promise him and bring your hand over your eyes to cover them.

He’s grumbling to himself the whole time as he begins to undress. He bitches about the cold, his cock, and his nearly frozen toes as you listen quietly to the sound of his belt buckle being undone. He does not fold his clothes neatly like you did and instead they are left in a pile near the fire. He dashes for your sleeping bag, yanking the zipper down in a fury and climbs inside.

It’s a tight fit indeed with barely any room for him to squeeze in but he makes it work.

“Fuck!” His yell is muffled as he struggles to make himself comfortable in what little space he has. “Fuckin’ cannot believe I actually listened to you.” He rubs his hands together, blowing hot air between them.

“Oh, shut up, you big baby.” You stifle a laugh which earns you a displeased glare. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if you just would have—”

“Do not start with me, sweetheart. Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” His brows furrow and his jaw is clenched so tightly, you’re shocked that it hasn’t shattered.

“You’re all bark and no bite, Joel.” You mutter back and roll over onto your side so your back is facing him. You close your eyes and fully intend to get some much needed and deserved sleep, but the man beside you is squirming and making a big fuss.

“Darlin’ I know you ain’t want anythin’ to do with a man like me, but it was your idea for us to get naked under here..so all I’m askin’ is—”

“Just do whatever it is you need to do, Joel. Can you just be quiet about it? All I want to do right now is sleep, and your fussing about is making that really fucking difficult for me to achieve.” You snap.

“Are you givin’ me permission, sweetheart? Cus’ the last thing I want is for you to bite my damn fingers off if I touch you. So as long as it’s alright with you..” he trails off and you take matters into your own hands by reaching behind you and finding his cold hands and yanking them around your body. You couldn’t help but yelp from the stark difference of temperature from your body heat to his hands.

“You’re fucking freezing, Joel.” You state the obvious and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. I didn’t exactly have time to warm them up, sweetheart. My apologies that my hands aren’t at the right temperature for ya.” You think you hear him snicker under his breath, but maybe it’s just his close proximity that makes you hear things.

“Whatever. It’s fine.” You reassure him.

His hands are big, huge, and the skin on his palms and fingers are rough. The feeling overall is quite pleasant, and soon enough his hands don’t feel like an ice block - quite the opposite actually.

He grunts softly as attempts to make himself comfortable without pressing himself into your back. It’s proving to be a challenge as it is, and he has this feeling deep in the pit of his stomach, that this challenge is going to get the best of him.

“What’s wrong now, Joel?” You try to ignore the way his thumbs are gently stroking the space between the curve of your breasts and under your rib cage, and how his touch on your skin is beginning to light a fire in your belly, and between your thighs. His touch is gentle and it’s making your head spin with need and desire.

“I jus’—I don’t wanna make y’feel uncomfortable s’all.” He admits, voice rasping deeply. “I’m fuckin’ freezin’, darlin’ but I don’t wanna—”

“Just shut up and stick your dick in me, Joel. You’ll be warmer then.” You surprise both yourself and him.

His meaty palms squeeze you gently, fingertips kneading the flesh as he inhales a shaky, yet audible breath. The tight confines of your shared sleeping bag suddenly feel ten times tighter, and hotter. It’s suffocating in a delicious sense that you and Joel are stuck here together in this rather..unfortunate situation. You hate him, and he hates you, yet the thought of his thick cock nestling between your thighs sounds like absolute heaven on a plate right now.

Joel thinks he’s on the verge of passing out from your vulgar statement. It’s been god knows how long since he’s felt the warmth of a woman’s body around his cock. It’s been too goddamn long, he thinks.

“..well, if you’re askin.’” He whispers as his hands maneuver your body to press back against him. One strong arm anchors itself around your waist, engaging you in a warm hold when you feel his hard, broad chest pressing against your back. You haven’t even seen his cock, yet you already can tell that he’s big. The word big might not even be able to describe the massive size that is Joel Miller.

“This doesn’t mean anything. Right, Joel?” You ask through the thick growing tension that coils itself around you and the burly man beside you like a snake.

“Doesn’t mean nothin’ at all, sweetheart. Jus’ sharin’ body heat for survival, like you said.” He rasps and blows a hot puff of air against the back of your neck as his strong thighs wrap around your own. Even this man’s feet are fucking huge in every sense.

Y’know what they say about big feet? An even bigger—heart. I was going to say heart.

“Okay.” You squeak out as you relax further into his hold around you.

“Can you jus’ let me know if you’re uncomfortable at any point? Cus’ if that’s the case, I’ll slip right out. No questions asked, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his apparent nervousness. It was sweet, in a Joel-like fashion. Hell must have frozen over right then and there because the Joel you had grown so accustomed to, was anything but sweet.

“Wow. You sure know how to romance a lady up, Miller. Did Tommy teach you how to do that?” You couldn’t help but wiggle your ass back against him. The thought of reaching down between your thighs and touching yourself crossed your mind, but you refrained.

He laughed, and it sent a wave of arousal gushing like a river because his laugh was beautiful. It was music to your fucking ears.

“Shut the fuck up.” His teeth grazed at the spot where your neck meets your jaw. He bit down, drawing blood to the surface of his indentation in your skin. “I taught Tommy everythin’ he needs to know on romancin’ a woman. Don’t get it twisted, sweetheart.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, big boy.” You nearly purred. Your back arched towards him, a suppressed moan desperate to be set free when his teeth marked you.

“I think someone is a bit too eager over this whole arrangement that we have found ourselves in.” He comments in a low rasp and his hand drifts down from your hip and nudges your thighs apart with a practiced ease. His heavy cock pressed firmly against your lower back as he let out another praising grunt from between his lips.

“Stop playing with me, Joel. I don’t want to be played with.” You hiss under your breath when you feel the backside of his knuckles slowly drag through the seam of your cunt.

“Y’sure about that, sweetheart? If you don’t wanna be played with, then what do you want?”

Frankly, he’s taking too long for your liking and you decided then and there to take matters into your own hands; literally. You reach between your bodies before he even has a chance to protest as you blindly search for his cock. Your warm palm barely fits around the girth of him.

“I want you to take your cock and stretch me open, Joel. Think you can handle that? Best not keep a lady waiting. It’s awfully rude.” You tsk under your breath.

He growls as his hips buck upwards into your hand like he’s never felt the touch of a woman’s palm before in his life.

“Fine. I like a woman that knows exactly what she wants, anyway. Won’t keep ya waitin’ any longer, princess.”

Joel Miller is a man of his word and just when you think he’s bluffing, you feel the thick press of the head of his cock sliding through your slick folds and notching at your entrance.

He groans against your ear, jaw clenching, and teeth grinding because you’re tight and hugging him like a fucking fist.

“Jesus fuck. That’s a tight cunt if I’ve ever felt one.” He rasps as you slowly pull him in further at the rate that he pushes his hips. Soon, he’s bottomed out with his hips firmly pressed into your ass. His legs stay tangled through yours as his arms come to wrap you up in his hold once more.

“Fuck.” You breathe, lashes fluttering as he stretches you open. He fits snuggly, almost as if your pussy was making a home for his cock to stay there awhile, all cozy and warm with you. “See? Was that so fucking difficult?”

He shakes his head and you swear you can feel him grinning against your skin. “Nope. It wasn’t difficult at all, sweetheart. In fact, I think I’ll stay here awhile.” Yeah, he’s definitely enjoying this.

You smile at this, burying your face into the solid muscle of his bicep, pressing the lightest kiss there. Maybe you even nibbled on it, and maybe he chuckled and pulled you in even closer.

“Stay as long as you’d please, Joel.” You whisper softly.

Come morning the embers from the fire had long since died out, and the storm had since passed. You and Joel were still a bunch of tangled limbs and connected warmth by the time Tommy and the rest of patrol had found you.

Joel had since grown soft with his cock still buried deep within your warmth and his face was buried in your neck with peaceful snores slipping past his plush lips. His eyes barely peeked open when he heard familiar voices muffled, yet nearby. Tommy had just brushed a bit of snow off the top of the sleeping bag and pulled the zipper down when he was met with a sight that he wasn’t expecting.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” He chuckled and shot his big brother a cheeky wink.

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aquaticmercy · 10 days ago

Text

Full Throttle

Summary : Bucky thinks he hooked up with a really pretty mechanic.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x motorcycle racer!reader (she/her)

Warnings/tags : cursing. Sex is implied. Bucky on a motorcycle. Purely self-indulgent fic.

Word count : 3.9k

Note : reader is a MotoGP rider! I’m still reeling from the championship battle last week that I just needed to write this. Also I apologise for everyone who wasn’t tagged in waste a moment! I lost half my notes and I’ve been trying to recover it. Hopefully it’ll be resolved by tomorrow. Enjoy!

Bucky Barnes wasn’t just drawn to motorcycles because they were fast or dangerous— at least not entirely.

He loved them because of the freedom they gave him, the sense of control when everything else in his life felt it had spiralled into oblivion. Riding demanded focus and precision—all the things he’d spent the last couple of years training.

When he was on his bike, the world faded away. There was only the hum of the engine, the wind in his hair, and the open road.

And sure, being on the road was fun, but sometimes, all he wanted was a challenge.

That’s when he found the dirt track in the edge of town— a place where he could train for missions that called for high-speed chases— a place he could lose himself for a while.

It was something fun to do once in a while, you know? Sam would call this a hobby.

The roar of engines and the earthy tang of kicked-up dirt felt like home. In a way, it was strangely meditative. It reminded him of what it felt like to be human— to push himself to the limit, to make mistakes and learn.

Every Tuesday, after training, he came to the track.

And every Tuesday, so did you.

The first time he saw you, Bucky had to do a double take. You were standing by your bike, helmet tucked under one arm, dirt streaked across your padded leather jacket.

Bucky was no stranger to beautiful people, but there was something about you that struck him differently— maybe it was the confidence in the way you carried yourself or the fire in your eyes when you looked his way. Either way, he was floored.

At first, he figured you were just another skilled rider trying to forget the world. That it was just a hobby, like it was to him. But as the weeks went on, you realised this was your life.

It must be.

The way you rode was… incredible. Every turn was sharp, calculated. Precise.

And despite your obvious talent, you never made a big deal about it. Just like you never made a big deal out of the fact that he was the fucking Winter Soldier.

Of course, you knew who he was—he’d caught the occasional glint of recognition in your eyes. But you never brought it up, never asked for autographs or photos. Instead, you treated him like just another guy at the track.

That didn’t mean you didn’t flirt, though.

Every now and then, you’d throw him a cheeky grin. You’d playfully tell him things like, “Nice lap, soldier,” and Bucky would just blush (which you found adorable, of course).

He would always try to laugh it off, but the truth was, your teasing left his heart racing faster than his bike ever could.

—

Bucky had been working up the nerve for weeks, and today, he thought he would finally bite the bullet.

Today he was going to ask you out.

You were wiping the sweat from your brow when he leaned casually against his bike, trying to look more confident than he felt.

“You’re always here on a Tuesday,” he said, before mentally groaning at himself

What the fuck was that? He thought. Is Always here on a Tuesday really the best flirty opening line he had? It was not even an open-ended question. It was just an observation. Nice one, Barnes.

But instead of brushing him off, you paused, setting your gloves down with an amused spark lighting up in your eyes. “Could say the same for you, Barnes.” You tilted your head and gave a casual shrug, acting as if having a stunning super soldier gawking over you wasn’t flattering. “You stalking me?”

The corner of his lips curved upward, the nervous tension melting away ever so slightly. “Maybe I just like the view.”

That earned him a smirk. You let your eyes descend over him—his dark hair falling in perfect disarray, his shirt clinging to his chest under his jacket. “Sure,” you teased.

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe I’ve got a good reason to show up.”

“Oh?” you asked, stepping closer, tossing your helmet onto your bike seat with a little dramatic flair. “Don’t tell me the Winter Soldier needs more practice catching bad guys on a bike. Thought you had that down.”

“Yeah, well,” he drawled, letting his gaze linger on you. “Never hurts to train. Especially when there’s someone like you around to keep me humble.”

“Humble?” You quirked an eyebrow, folding your arms as you leaned a hip against the leather seat of the bike. “Looked pretty cocky last week, pulling that stunt to take down the bad guy.”

He blinked, genuinely surprised. “You saw that?”

It had been a theft— some guy thought he could steal experimental weapons from an old Stark warehouse and get away with it. Not his cleanest chase, but he did the job.

“Please, it was all over the news. Did you not see the four helicopters following the chase?” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. “I gotta say, you’re not bad, Barnes.”

“Not bad?” he echoed, feigning offence.

You leaned in just a little, dropping your voice. “I’ve seen smoother turns. If you want pointers, I could teach you a thing or two.”

His lips parted, but no words came out for a moment as he processed how close you were. “You offering lessons now?”

You laughed before gesturing at his bike.

This was his dirt bike, a recreational bike— not the one he used for the chase last week. Still, it could use a bit of… fine tuning.

“Tell you what, soldier,” you said, “Fix that lag in your throttle response first. Then I’ll teach you a thing or two about taking corners.”

Bucky tilted his head, narrowing his eyes “There’s nothing wrong with my throttle response.”

“Oh, honey,” you purred, stepping just close enough for your shoulder to brush his. “I could hear it lagging from halfway across the track.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

“You saying I need a tune-up?”

“I’m saying,” you said, your voice like velvet, “that if you wanna keep up, you’re gonna need a better setup.”

He couldn’t help the grin tugging at his lips. He still didn’t have the guts to ask you out that day, but he walked away with hope, that maybe, this could grow into something more.

—

“So, you gonna tell me why you’ve been walking around with that goofy smile lately?” Sam asked, leaning back in his chair with a knowing look.

“What smile?” Bucky muttered, immediately defensive.

“The one you think nobody notices,” he shrugged. “Spill it, Buck. What’s her name?”

Bucky hesitated, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t planned to tell anyone about his little crush. least of all Sam, but the look on his friend’s face said he wasn’t getting out of this conversation.

“Fine,” he said, exhaling. “There’s this girl.”

Sam grinned.

“She goes to the dirt track I go to every Tuesday,” Bucky said, staring at the bottle in his hands like it held the secret to not sounding like a lovesick idiot as he told him all about you.

—

From then on, Tuesdays became his favourite day of the week.

Bucky found himself counting down the hours until he could see you again, his mind replaying every smile, every laugh, every teasing touch.

You became bolder, not afraid of calling him handsome, of touching his arm even if it wasn’t necessary.

And damn it if didn’t make his heart race.

One evening, after a particularly thrilling session on the track, Bucky decided he’d had enough of dancing around what he wanted.

Leaning casually against his handlebars, he called out, “Race me.”

You looked up, one eyebrow raising in surprise. “What’s in it for me?” you asked, folding your arms and tilting your head in that way that always made his stomach flip.

“If you win,” he started, “you get bragging rights for a week.”

“A week, huh?” You repeated dramatically, “and if you win?”

Bucky’s lips curled into a slow grin, trying to appear confident even though his heart was pounding in his chest. “I get your number.”

Your giggle rang out, bright and sweet, and for a second, Bucky forgot how to breathe. “You got yourself a deal, soldier,” you said, shaking your head.

—

The two of you lined up at the start of the track, engines growling.

Bucky’s focus sharpened—he wasn’t just racing for pride; he was racing for the chance to finally take a step toward something he had wanted for months now.

When the signal came, you both shot off like bullets, dirt kicking up in clouds behind your tires. Bucky pushed his bike to the limit, leaning into every corner, his muscles strained with effort, grappling the dirt bike for control. But no matter how fast he went, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were holding back.

You were supposed to be faster, more precise than this sloppy performance you were giving. He’d seen you before. What happened?

As you neared the final stretch, you slowed, just enough for him to surge ahead and cross the finish line first.

He skidded to a stop, panting and exhilarated, but the smug grin on your face told him everything he needed to know.

When you walked over later and handed him a scrap of paper with your number scrawled on it, you leaned in close enough for him to catch the faint scent of sweat and motor oil. “You won it fair and square,” you said.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, his lips twitching with a grin he couldn’t suppress. “You let me win.”

“How dare you accuse me of such a thing,” you feigned innocence, but couldn’t help the grin widening on your face.

He tucked the paper into his pocket, shaking his head.

As you put on your helmet back on, you casually remarked, “Throttle’s still lagging, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Bucky groaned, pretending to be annoyed. Secretly, he was thrilled to keep the conversation going. “I think it’s the fuel filter, but I haven’t had time to swap it out.”

“I’ve got one at my place,” you told him, turning on your engine, “Why don’t you come by?”

His head snapped up, surprised at the offer. “Now?”

“Why not?”

—

When arrived at your place, he had braced himself for something simple—a cosy apartment, maybe a small cluttered corner dedicated to your bike tools.

What he hadn’t expected was this.

Standing in the doorway, he blinked at the modern yet homey design laid out before him. The floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the space in golden evening light, reflecting off polished floors and expensive-looking furniture. The view of the city stretched out like a postcard behind you as you stood, arms crossed, watching him with a hint of amusement.

“This… is your apartment?” he asked, taking a step inside. His greasy leather jacket suddenly felt so out of place. His gaze darted over to a marble countertop in the kitchen, a plush couch, and then the walls— lined with the kind of art he’s only seen in high society auctions.

You tilted your head, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Not what you expected, Barnes?”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Not really…”

“Ah,” you replied, moving toward a door off the main living area. “So just because I work with bikes, I can’t have nice things?”

“I didn’t say that,” he countered quickly, following you.

You threw a sly glance over your shoulder. “Didn’t have to.”

He tried to think of a witty response, but he was distracted by the thought of you—the way you moved, confident and unbothered, like you belonged in every room you entered.

You led him to a heavy door and pushed it open, revealing a contrast to the rest of the apartment— your workshop.

The workshop smelled like oil, grease, and faintly of rubber, the air swirling with the comforting scent of metal and machinery. The walls were lined with shelves holding neatly organised tools, spare parts, and bottles of lubricants. A stripped-down high-performance bike stood at the centre of the room, its engine exposed, wires and cables hanging loose.

Now this room, he thought, was undoubtedly you.

“This is more like it,” he murmured, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“See?” You smirked, moving to grab the replacement part he needed. “I’m not as fancy as you think.”

After pulling his bike through the back, he leaned against the wall, watching as you crouch next to his bike and get to work.

For a moment, he was quiet.

He watched in silence— the way your hands moved with precision, the way you were entirely in your element.

“So,” you began, glancing up at him. “What’s the Winter Soldier doing on a dirt track every Tuesday, anyway? Don’t you have, I don’t know, a world to save?”

He chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “The world can wait.”

You laughed softly, returning your focus to the filter.

“I get it, kind of,” you replied, loosening a bolt. “Wanting to get away from everything.”

From then on, the conversation came effortlessly.

At first, he kept it light, sticking to anecdotes about the track or the occasional joke about his less-than-smooth bike handling in the beginning. But there was something about the way you listened—your easy, genuine curiosity—that made him feel safe, like he didn’t have to keep everything locked away anymore.

At one point, he couldn’t help but ask how someone who worked with bikes could afford a place like this. You only shrugged with a smile, giving the same answer you always did: “I got lucky.” He didn’t press, though he was curious—the ease in which you sidestepped the question intrigued him.

Before long, the conversation drifted again. He found himself sharing more than he ever thought he would. He told you about his missions, the chaos of his Winter Soldier days, the things he’d done and the memories he was still piecing together.

And you listened—not with pity, but with an understanding that felt rare, even among the people he called friends.

“You’re good at this,” he finally said.

“Bikes?”

“People,” he admitted, his eyes flicking to yours.

“Well, bikes are like people,” You tilted your head, studying him with a small, curious smile. “Both require care, attention, and understanding to perform at their best.”

When you finally finished, you stood, wiping your hands on a cloth. “All set,” you said, gesturing toward his bike.

“Thank you.” he said, though he made no move to leave. Instead, he lingered, his eyes on you as you leaned back against the counter.

“So,” you said, breaking the thick silence, your voice dipping into something almost playful. “You gonna stick around, or do you have somewhere to be?”

“Nowhere important,” he admitted quietly.

He took a step closer, then another.

The space separating you seemed to dissolve, his eyes locked on yours, pulling you in like gravity.

“Careful,” you murmured, teasing. “I might think you’re stalling just to spend more time with me.”

His lips curved into a faint, almost shy smile. “And if I am?”

The words hit you like a shot of adrenaline, your heart beating out of your chest. There was no humour in his tone, no hint of the usual back-and-forth banter that had defined so many of your conversations. Just desire staring back at you.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely audible. “I wouldn’t mind.”

He was close now, so close you could feel the heat rolling off him, his metal hand brushing against the counter as he leaned in.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice rough, a low growl in his throat. He cupped your jawline, mustering all the courage she could possibly gather.

You didn’t.

Instead, your lips parted in anticipation as he leaned in. Unable to bear it any longer, you tilted your head up, meeting him halfway.

The first press of his lips against yours was gentle, and the second was anything but. The restraint shattered immediately, giving way to something feral. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair as he pulled you closer, his lips moving with a hunger that’s been brewing since he first saw you on the track.

Your hands found his chest, sliding up to his shoulders, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. You tugged him closer, your chest pressing against his. He let out a low moan that sent a shiver down your spine.

When you finally broke apart for air, your foreheads rested together, your breaths mixing in the narrow space between you. His voice was husky, as if he was still recovering. “I should really take you out on a date first.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your hands still fisted in his shirt. “You can still do that.”

His lips brushed yours again. “Aren’t you trouble?”

“You love it,” you whispered, grinning wickedly as you pulled him back in.

The next kiss was hotter, hungrier— it consumed you both. His hands slid to your waist, gripping you firmly as he backed you out of the workshop and into the apartment.

Your movements were uncoordinated, messy, your lips never leaving his as you stumbled against walls, furniture, and whatever else got in the way.

By the time you reached the bedroom, nothing else mattered.

—

Bucky woke to the soft light peeking through your curtains.

The scent of coffee reached him first. When he stumbled out of your bedroom, he spotted you at the marble kitchen counter, leaning on your elbows with a steaming mug in hand. You were dressed in one of your oversized shirts— and looked far too innocent for all the filthy things you did to him last night.

“Mornin’ doll,” he greeted as he sat across from you.

“Morning,” you chuckled at his adorable tousled hair.

“So…” he started, his voice thick with sleep, “about that date…”

You smirked, setting your mug down and sauntered around the island kitchen. “Thought you’d never ask.”

“Sunday?” he offered, watching you with a lazy smile as you perched on the stool next to his.

You shook your head, “I work weekends.”

That caught him off guard, but he didn’t let it show. “Remind me what exactly it is you do?”

“Bikes,” you said simply, the corner of your mouth twitching like you were holding back sensitive information.

He chuckled, assuming you were talking about your mechanic work. “Fair.”

You hummed, but the mischievous glint in your eyes didn’t escape him.

He tilted his head, curiosity tugging at the edge of his thoughts, but he decided not to push. You’d tell him when you wanted to. Instead, he flashed a small grin. “I’ll text you to arrange something, then.”

“You better,” you teased, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “You won my number, Barnes. Don’t make me regret giving it to you.

The challenge in your tone made his smirk widen, his hand slipping around your waist to pull you closer. “Oh, I won’t.”

—

That Sunday, Bucky was slouched on Sam’s couch, one leg kicked over the side of the coffee table, a book resting on his chest. Sam, on the other hand, was waging war with the TV remote, flipping through channels at record speeds.

“Just pick something already,” Bucky grumbled without looking up.

Sam rolled his eyes, ignoring him.

“Oh, MotoGP’s on,” he said suddenly, tossing the remote aside.

Bucky didn’t even glance at the screen at first, the low growl of engines and the commentator’s frantic observation was little more than background noise. But something about the sheer speed on display tugged at his attention. He finally looked up— and when he did, he could not take his eyes off the screen.

The camera focused on a Ducati weaving through the pack with a relentlessness that looked… familiar. The rider’s movements were fluid, each turn carved with precision, every overtake risky but calculated.

“Holy shit,” Sam muttered, leaning forward. Sam wasn’t the biggest fan— but he did watch these races from time to time. It always intrigued him, the danger they willingly took to win a race. “Look at—did you see that overtake?”

Bucky didn’t respond, his eyes locked on the rider. There was something about them—the way they leaned into each corner, never hesitating, always pushing for the absolute edge of human limitation.

The commentator’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“And there it is! The factory Ducati taking the lead with that beautiful overtake from the inside line! Unbelievable control!”

The Ducati was now in front, pulling away from the others as the final lap approached.

Bucky watched, as they flew through a sweeping right turn, knees and shoulders skimming the asphalt like it was second nature.

As the Ducati roared down toward the finish line, the chequered flag waved.

First place.

The crowd erupted, but Bucky barely heard it. The rider slowed, their gloved fist pumping the air, before coming to a stop after the cooldown lap.

The other riders were congratulating them, patting their helmet with friendly taps.

Soon, the camera zoomed in, capturing the moment they pulled off their helmet.

And Bucky’s stomach dropped.

It was you.

No helmet, no visor—just you, smiling that confident smile that he knew so well.

Oh. He was stupid. Bucky Barnes was so incredibly stupid.

Of course you were a motorcycle racer. The sleek apartment, the effortless style, the way you moved on the dirt track. The way you told him you worked on weekends— it all made perfect sense.

And yet, somehow, he'd convinced himself you were a mechanic. Of course he did.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, bolting upright.

Sam shot him a confused look. “What?”

“That’s her,” Bucky said, his voice low in disbelief.

“Who’s ‘her’?”

“The mechanic,” he said, gesturing at the TV, as you celebrated with your team of race engineers. “The girl I told you about. That’s her.”

Sam blinked, staring at the screen, then back at Bucky. “Wait—you’re telling me she fixed up your fuel filter?”

Bucky didn’t answer, still staring at the screen. You were heading toward the press now, handing your helmet to a crew member as reporters swarmed you.

The camera cut for a post-race interview. You looked exhilarated, but still composed as you answered questions about your strategy— about the win.

Then the interviewer threw in a curveball:

“You’ve been on a hot streak lately. Is there anyone you want to dedicate this victory to?”

You hesitated just long enough for a sly grin to tug at your lips. Then, you looked directly into the camera.

“This win’s for a super soldier,” you said, your tone as playful as ever. You made a phone gesture with your fingers and winked. “Call me, Barnes.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped.

Sam burst out laughing, but in no less shock. “I cannot believe you hooked up with her! Bucky, You lucky son of a—“

But Bucky wasn’t listening anymore.

He couldn’t believe it. Of course he could keep up— you were literally leagues ahead of him.

And somehow, you were still into him.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sam said, nudging him hard enough to make him wince. “You gonna call her or not?”

Bucky didn’t answer, already scrambling for his phone. His hands trembled a little as he unlocked it, a smile already tugging at his lips.

He wasn’t sure what he was gonna say when you picked up, but he knew one thing for certain: Tuesdays just got a whole lot more interesting.

-end.

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mingi-s-dimples · 1 month ago

Text

Heart on Loan - Yunho

KINKTOBER DAY 16, REQ. BY anon

~"Hi I'd like to request a Yunho Mafia fic. The reader pisses him off in some way and now she had to pay him back by working for him. At first he's really mean to her but then starts to be attracted and that's when the smut starts. The reader is also a virgin and doesn't have any experience being in a relationship or talking to guys. I hope that's not too much!"

pairing: mafia leader!yunho x fem!reader

genre: 18+, mafia au, filth ish

summary: you piss off the most dangerous person in the city... only to spend the most memorable night with him, after supposedly working for him to pay your debt off.

wc: 2.4k

warnings: mafia au, dom!yunho, virgin!reader, deepthroating, fingering, oral (m), head pushing, hair *pulling/tangling*, teasing slightly, he's a cocky one, making out, mentions of guns, missionary, implied 2nd round, use of pet names, slight possessiveness, unprotected (boo use protection irl), completely consensual, for sure forgot something, unedited.

Author's Note: Mafia Yunho is chef's kiss idc what y'all say and idc that this fic is damn short but omfg... I need this man in my life *sigh* why do I not bump into pretty and tall men that would make me pay off my own sillt debt and fucking them later in my life 😞😞 I'm so sorry words slipped out of my mouth upsi. Anyways, anon, I hope yoh like it !

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

The city had a heartbeat of its own, a relentless pulse of neon lights and shadowed alleyways where secrets and power moved in. You knew it well, though you’d never been bold enough to dip more than a toe into its murky underbelly. That was, until tonight.

You’d been passing through the dimly lit streets, minding your own business, when fate—or rather, an unfortunate case of bad timing and bad attitude—threw you directly in Yunho's path. Yunho was the city’s most notorious Mafia leader, his name spoken in whispers by even the bravest. Some said his fortune was built on power, manipulation, and charm as dangerous as his temper. But none of that registered with you in the moment you bumped into him and, in a flustered reaction, spilled coffee on his impeccable suit.

There was a silence so thick you could feel it pressing against your lungs. You had barely glanced up when you realized the towering figure before you, the dangerous gleam in his eyes, and the ominous smirk pulling at his lips. Your blood ran cold as he inspected his now-ruined clothes, a dark promise flickering behind his expression.

"You’ve got some nerve," he finally muttered, his voice soft but sharp enough to cut through the heavy night air. You felt his gaze drilling into you, appraising, as if deciding your fate. Without another word, he stepped closer, towering over you.

“I’m… really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to—” you stammered, but he cut you off with a smirk that sent chills down your spine.

“Oh, you will be,” he said, his tone dark yet almost amused, and something inside you told you that your apology wouldn’t be enough. “Let’s call this… a debt. And you’re going to work it off.”

That was how it all began. Within days, you found yourself stepping into a new life, a strange, thrilling, and utterly terrifying world at Yunho’s command. The rules were strict, and the punishment for mistakes even stricter. You had no idea what you'd be asked to do next, whether it was tracking contacts, running errands, or, most frequently, dealing with his endless collection of firearms. It was in these moments, whenever you were alone with him, that Yunho’s intensity seemed to turn up a notch.

The rough edges of his demeanor wore on you, his biting sarcasm and occasional harshness drawing out every ounce of your patience and nerves. But gradually, you began to notice something beyond the intimidation. In the way he watched you, sometimes with an intensity that felt heavier than his threats, there was something almost like curiosity.

Days passed, and your debt stretched on, keeping you ensnared in Yunho’s world. But one night, as you were organizing his cache of sleek, dangerous-looking firearms in his private room, the silence between you felt charged, more potent than ever. Yunho was watching you from the doorway, arms crossed, the smallest hint of a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Do you know what you’re holding there?” he asked, his tone softer than usual as he took a step toward you.

Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to focus on the task, feeling his gaze travel from your hands to your face, lingering just a little too long. He was close enough now that you could feel the heat radiating from him, smell the faint cologne that seemed to fit him all too well. You struggled to keep your attention on the weapon you were packing, but your pulse betrayed you, hammering in your chest like a warning.

Without a word, Yunho reached over, his fingers brushing yours as he adjusted the weapon in your grip. His touch sent a jolt through you, making it hard to ignore the heat creeping up your cheeks. You’d been cautious around him, knowing he was dangerous in more ways than one, but you hadn’t expected the casual, unexpected intimacy he was capable of. He lingered, his fingers tracing over yours with a gentleness that seemed foreign for someone so ruthless. And you couldn’t look away.

“Shy, huh?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble as he leaned closer, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement—and something else. You felt a knot of tension twist in your stomach, unsure if it was fear or something far more dangerous, but Yunho didn’t pull back. If anything, he moved closer, a teasing smile curving his lips as he caught your gaze.

“You make me want to forget every rule I’ve ever made.” your eyed widened at his words, not knowing what he meant.

Oh.. yeah. The rule.. of not having any kind of affair with one another. Did he possibly mean.. that one?

For a split second, the entire world seemed to melt away, leaving just you and him in that small, dimly lit room. It was a line you knew you shouldn't cross, a tension you shouldn’t indulge. But as he stayed close, his fingers lightly grazing yours again, you realized you weren’t sure if you wanted him to stop.

"Your heart is... racing" Yunho smirks, pressing his fingers lightly against your wrist, feeling your pulse quicken under his touch, “You want this too, don’t you?”

Your lips part to respond but words falter, looking away, and he chuckles.

Yunho's hands traveled from your wrist to your hand, then to your shoulder and collarbone, “Don’t go shy on me now. I want to hear you say it.”

"I-" you tried to say.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Getting all silent on me?” he confidently said, as your eyes instantly chose a random spot on a wall to look at, rather to make eye contact with him. His right hand rode up your neck, resting there for a second, then went for your chin and he made you look at him.

“Come on… look at me. I want to see those pretty eyes when you blush like that.”

"I- uh"

"Say it." he said, authority conveyed in his words.

"I haven't done this.. b-before." you stuttered, eyes wandering around.

He looked at you, slightly confused. “So… you’re telling me you’re a virgin?”

“I don’t want you to think… I’m not interested. I’m just… not experienced.” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, embarrassed of your words.

“Trust me, I’d never assume that.” he leans in, voice droping, “But if anything, it makes me want to go slower… yeah. I’ll take my time with you… make sure you feel every second of it. That’s a promise.”

---

The atmosphere suddenly got heavier as his hands rode up and down on your body, feeling you up.

He took a small step back, his gaze softening as he let out a slow breath, as though grounding himself. “You have no idea how much I want this,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if even saying the words too loudly might break the spell between you.

With a tenderness that surprised you, he traced his hands up your arms, letting them settle on your waist as he gently lifted you, your body instinctively wrapping around him. His movements were deliberate yet unhurried, carrying you as if you were something delicate, precious.

The quiet thud of the door closing behind him, the warmth of his touch, and the way his breath lingered near your neck all heightened the sense of intimacy. The room was cast in dim light, shadows dancing along the walls, adding a surreal quality to the moment. Every brush of his fingers, every whispered breath, seemed to amplify the silence between you.

Gently, he lowered you onto the bed, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he said, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. His fingers trailed lightly over your cheek, tracing your jaw.

In that moment, you felt safe, even if hr was the most dangerous person in your city.. if not even in the country.

Your hands left his shoulders as he backed off for a second, taking in the view. He then started to slowly undress himself, taking his sweet time.

"L-let me.. help you" you suddenly said, not even expecting your own words to slip out. He giggled at your words and stopped, letting you do it. You slowly unbuttoned his shirt, feeling up his muscles. His shoulders are broad and heavily built, signaling his strength and resilience. His chest muscles are well-defined, showing the dense training that shapes his form, while his biceps and triceps look strong and hardened, giving him an imposing presence. His abs are chiseled, likely from rigorous workouts and possibly some close-call encounters. Every part of him exudes power, from his veined forearms to the taut muscles of his back, showcasing the blend of elegance and intensity fitting for someone who commands respect and fear. Though, his soft skin was tainted by some pretty harsh scars, probably from cuts or bullets he got hit by in combat. You then got to his pants and well.. it went kind of.. downhill from there.

"Let's see what you're capable of, sweetie. Don't worry.. I'll guide you." he said as he unbuckled his pants, letting them fall down to his ankles and pushing them away. He then got rid of his briefs and oh god.. he was *huge*. His hand hovered over your head and urged you down on your knees, right in front of his cock. You innocently looked up at him, like you didn't fucking enjoy every second of it, while being entirely freaked out.

Your hands rode up his thighs and got to his cock, slowly pumping it. As you were looking at him, your eyes widened as he signaled you to... suck. "It won't be that hard, I promise..." he whispered as he guided your head to his cock, your lips parting against the red, leaking tip. You started to softly suck on it, not sure if you could take all of his length. You deepened a bit, leaving sloppy trails of kisses whenever you got to his tip. You liked his length from the base all the way to the shaft, sucking on his tip multiple times before he.. got slightly bored of it. "Sweetie..?"

"Mhm?" you muffle, his cock inches deep in your mouth.

"Let's... try a bit more " he said as he pushed himself slowly deep down your throat, gagging on it while he thrusted forwards in your mouth. He didn't seem like the man to be noisy but.. muffled sounds and whines could be heard from above you. His hand tangled in your hair as he started rapidly fsce-fucking you, catching his high.

"Don't stop.." he said and braced his hands in your hair and on your head and deepthroated you, making you gag multiple times on it. He was not.. the most gentle person, but you also loved it so, no need for him to be gentle. Your hands were holding tightily ok his thighs, and as he fucked your mouth a couple more times, he came right down your throat and in your mouth. When he pulled out, silky white cum dripped off your lips. He kneeled down in front of you and wiped it off, moment to distract you from his hand going under you, lifting you up. He threw you on the bed and undressed you, hastily.

"Let me spoil you, pretty." he said and pushed you on your back, crawling over to you. His lips found yours, and in a matter of time while he was making out with you, his hand found it's way between your legs. He stopped for a moment to look at you. and when you nodded, he didn't hesitate any longer. He inserted one finger in, then the second one. He slowly started pumping them in and out while still kissing you, feeling each and every of your muffled and quiet moans. It was not long before he started fingering your rapidly, helping you catch your high. But.. that wasn't his plan. In fact, his plans was to only.. stretch you out for his length. So that when he felt you'd be prepped enough for him, he pulled back for a moment and guided his cock to your entrance, then slowly pushed himself in. Your hands held thightly onto the linen as he bottomed down, his length and girth stretching you the fuck out.

"Tell me... if you want me to stop" he said but.. he didn't mean it. You also never planned in making him stop so, you nodded, not answering him. That simply was the easiest way of telling him you wanted to be fucked dumb by him, to which he compiled.

His hands found their way to your waist, burying himself deep down in you. His eyes widened as you put your legs over his waist, missionary style. He smirked, going even faster than he was before.

"I- Yunho!" you moaned his name, tears forming in your eyes as he bottomed down every time he thrusted into you.

"I'm close, sweetie... you feel so damn good, I might as well go fucking insane." he said as he let his torso down to yours, his lips finding their way to your collarbones, leaving soft kisses which transformed into harsh marks, where he sucked your skin. He fucked you a couple more times before coming undone right in front of you and in you, feeling yourself getting absolutely filled up by his load. You, too, also came as soon as you felt his cock pulse in you. He whined out when he felt your walls clench tightly on his cock, draining him out. He fucked you through his and your orgasm, then slowly came to a stop.

He pulled out and stepped back for a moment, admiring his work. Your pretty, fucked out, teary face, and your cunt dripping with both of your juices.

"You look so damn hot like this.. might as well go for another round, if you're up for it?" Yunho said, a little bit too excited about it as his cock hardened again.

"P-please.. I need you" you whined out, dirty thoughts flooding in your mind.

"You didn't have a choice anyway.. I gotta show you just how much you pissed me off when you ruined my favourite suit, sweeheart." he said and leaned in for a kiss, to which he lifted you up in his embrace.

The night was just about to start and... ironically, you felt safer and wanted in the nicest way by the most dangerous person in the city.

NETWORKS:

@illusionnet

@blossomnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @woolysium @peachy-bell26

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raz-writes-the-thing · 1 year ago

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Perhaps It's Time (Doctor Who)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: You think you're finally ready to have your cherry popped.

CW: virgin!reader, sort of implied smut, discussions around sex

Doctor Who Tag List: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

It’s not necessarily something you’d thought about a whole lot. You just assumed like most other people that you’d be ready when you were ready. It wasn’t for lack of interest, either. You’d had partners before, but you were younger then, and while conceptually the idea of sex was appealing- when it got down to it, you just weren’t ready.

But that was then and this was now.

You’d been travelling with the Doctor for at least a year. Probably longer, if you really stopped to think about it. The two of you had gotten together sometime around month six or seven, and you hadn’t looked back since.

The Doctor was the best partner you could ask for. He took you on plenty of dates, made sure you had tasty things to eat, gave you cuddles whenever he could, and was very respectful of all your wishes and boundaries.

He’d never so much as laid a hand on your thigh with sexual intentions. And yes, while this was good at the beginning of your relationship, you were finding yourself growing more frustrated by the day with his lack of instigation.

“Hey, uh, Doctor?” You ask him, surprising yourself as the words slip past your mouth. The being in question turned towards you, a stick of red liquorice hanging out of his mouth. He hummed as an invitation for you to go on. “How come you haven’t- uh, how come we haven’t… you know.”

The Doctor’s brows furrow in confusion, and he removes the liquorice from his mouth, clearly resisting the urge to play with it.

“Oh, erm- haven’t really thought about it,” he replies, making the short trip over to stand before you. “That’s not me saying I don’t want to. I want to. Oh yes, I want to.” This is the first time you’ve noticed that lustful gleam in his eye, the colour darkening just a shade as he looks you over hungrily.

Your cheeks flush a shade darker. Just enough to be noticed. Your eyes are trained on his lips and the way he licks them as though he’s thinking about all the ways he could make you come undone with his mouth alone. Let’s be real, though, it wasn’t like you hadn’t been thinking about that since you got together either.

“So why haven’t we?” You ask breathily. The Doctor crowds you up against the console of the TARDIS, getting as close as he can without making you uncomfortable (as if he ever could). He gives you enough room to move out and away if you need to. Always so considerate of your feelings, the Doctor was.

“Well,” he replies, brushing a finger down your cheek softly. “Thought you weren’t ready. ‘Sides, I don’t mind waiting. I’m here for you, and you can take as long as you need to. I’m not going anywhere, am I?”

The change in tone from dark and lustful to soft and caring almost gives you whiplash, but you also appreciate it. How could you ever fall for anyone else? Answer, you couldn’t. Maybe you’d never had your cherry popped because you were simply waiting for the Doctor.

“I think I’m ready,” you say, biting at your lip. The Doctor grins, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. He pulls away and kisses you hard on the mouth. His lips still taste of liquorice and you melt against him.

“I- I don’t want to right now,” you add dazedly when he gives you space to breathe. You’re flushed from head to toe, heart swelling with happiness. “But I’m ready, I think. For when we want to.” And when you have the time. That prerequisite was also pretty important for something like this.

“I don’t need it to be special, just- when it happens it happens.”

The Doctor winked, sticking his red liquorice back into his mouth with a wide grin.

“Sounds spontaneous. I like it.”

You bet he does.

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preeningpisces · 8 months ago

Text

Geto NSFW Headcanons

Im gonna try not to be biased because this is my main bitch right here 🖤

Lemme know if you want me to elaborate or write about any of these headcanons

(literally any ask about Geto will make me do somersaults—backflips, even)

18+ content below the cut, mdni, implied chubby f!reader

Pre-Incident

꩜ Geto is interesting because before he snaps and after he snaps feel like two different vibes in regards to sex

꩜ Doting, almost like a service-dom. He likes taking care of you, but he also prefers to have control. Though not so controlling that he can’t ever be submissive

꩜ Major smooth-talker, like Gojo said, he has a silver tongue. Likes a mixture of praise and degradation. The degradation is usually teasing, and doesn’t extend past the usual slut, whore, etc. range…usually

꩜ Sometimes it comes out corny tho lmfao pls roast him when it does

꩜ Good at making you feel sexy. The type that will kiss you all over, giving extra affection to areas you aren’t as fond of. It’s difficult at first, but with time you become more comfortable

꩜ Very sensual, and intimate. He has good self-control, & is very patient so he can draw things out & drive you crazy. Like he can spend all-too-long just toying with your mouth, denying you the kiss you so desperately want. Barely brushing your lips and teeth with his thumb, before pinching your tongue between fingers. Wowee

꩜ Refuses to kiss you after absorbing curses. Even though no one else can taste them, the thought of tasting like that is enough for for him to refuse; he doesn’t want you to go through it too. Also, tasting shit-vomit in your mouth doesn’t exactly get the schlong schlinging, yknow

꩜ I suspect absorbing curses gives him an immediate surge of negative emotions, so he usually needs space. Sometimes he just wants to hold you, or be held, in silence

꩜ Can be surprisingly playful in bed

꩜ Really likes fucking you from below. Smooshing your soft breasts and stomach against him, and feeling your weight on top of him. Holding you still so he can rail you while whispering sappy, dirty shit in your ear. I’m passing out someone help

꩜ I’ve been poisoned by the perv!geto fics on here, and can’t see him as not being a secret pervert. Just slightly. It takes a while for him to reveal that side to you, since he tries to appear refined and respectable

꩜ Definitely the type that likes music in the background; I see him as someone who cares about music a lot in general. You know he likes you if he’s sharing song recs

꩜ Lots of playlists, and even has a few sex playlists with different moods. Usually prefers things that are chill, but has a few harder-hitting songs—this is why he needs the playlists, lol. He doesn’t like when the vibe changes too much

꩜ One time you sneak Cbat onto his playlist & make him laugh so much he loses his boner. At that point did you really win? Hmm?

꩜ Tbh he’s got game & is aware of it. You gotta humble him occasionally or else he becomes insufferable

Post-Incident

꩜ This Geto is a lot more self-centered, aggressive, and sadistic in bed. I wouldn’t say he’s a tyrant tho

꩜ Will legit punish you when you disobey, no funishments here. Big into humiliation

꩜ My heart is telling me shibari, especially the kind that can be hidden beneath clothes. Particular about the color, and will pick ones that flatter your skin tone. Obsessed with the way the ropes pinch and dig into your soft body. He’ll bite and squeeze the parts that spill over the ropes

꩜ One punishment would be walking around secretly tied up, but the style where one of the ropes rubs against your pussy as you walk. It sounds nice at first, but that bitch is gonna chafe for sure

꩜ He’s more selfish than before, yes, but he still maintains a proclivity for doting—we all see how he spoils his daughters! It’s like, he gets his turn first, and when it’s your turn, it's your turn. Multiple orgasm king. He’ll do it until you’re sobbing tho, so pray for your pussy

꩜ Loves making you choke on his cock—gets kind of intense with the bjs. Mfer needs to chill (and buy you some throat lozenges)

꩜ Doggystyle is his favorite without a doubt, he just wants to pin your face to the bed and watch your ass bounce

꩜ A lot of the previous stuff is still applicable to some degree, but I think he has a lot less patience at this point, and is waaaay more into degradation & domination

꩜ He gets legitimately mean sometimes lmfao it’s like you gotta have 2 safewords: one for physical intensity level, and the other for bullying level 😭

꩜ Would he sleep with a non-sorcerer? Honestly, I can’t decide. If he did tho, he would be SO FUCKING MEAN I don’t even want to think about it !!!

꩜ Does he use monkey in bed unironically?? Chat pls advise

#geto smut #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x chubby reader #jjk smut #chubby reader #divider by benkeibear #god i wrote so much for him #the favoritism is wild #dreams of geto ☁︎#headcanons ☽#geto headcanons #dreams ☽#wet dreams ☽

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grapefives · 2 months ago

Note

im in love w how u wrote for hoshina.... can i ask for more please 🙏🙏 any fluff or teasing (him) would be ok i just binged kn8 and fell for him 😩 ( also male reader rise up bc this man makes ME rise up i get cuteness aggression w him sb)

HIGH, HIGH | OS

hoshina x gn!reader (platoon leader reader!)

fluff + teasing + cuteness aggression + light mentions of injuries

a/n: (IMPLIED MALE READER) stop, i feel the same way. i just wanna east him up

your eyes won’t stop looking at those narrowed eyes, the ends of his bangs falling softly over them and casting a pretty shadow. you trail down to his cute nose, then to his lightly puckered lips. you smile, biting it back when you sense his narrowed gaze flitting towards you.

“y/n.” hoshina says sternly.

“yes?” you ask, returning your gaze to the belt you have yet to fasten around your waist.

damn him, he always catches your gaze before you look at the best parts.

“nothing,” he says, and he turns around to look around for his swords.

he can’t hide from you. you know your fiancé too well. you catch the redness in his ears as he gives his back to you. you eyes down at his waist, smiling at the empty slits on the back of his belt. you take the swords you had sneaked out of them and trudge up to him. he’s murmuring softly to himself as he looks around.

“-swear i never take them out-“ he says before pausing.

you put the swords back in their rightful spot before placing both your hands on his waist, a bit above the belt hanging around him. he’s not exactly frozen in place, but pausing with anticipation. you only smile, leaning your whole weight from behind to press him forward a bit…only to place a kiss on the shell of his ear.

he shivers before smacking your arm when you quickly step away with a cackle.

he glares at the back of your head as you walk out of the office, saying something about finding out the commander over an inquiry. he knows your lying, to an extent at least. he makes sure he has everything on him before walking out, he has to watch the officers practice and go through their training.

“hoshina?” a voice asks in his in ear.

“yes captain?” he asks, his boots thumping the polished floors as he walks down the corridor.

he listens in to her concerns and to her comments. his day goes on like that, he doesn’t see much of you throughout the day, it’s always like that. he’s immersed in office work while you’re more immersed in hands on, physical work. his mind sometimes goes back to how you two met, that mission that made his heart skip a beat around you.

where you had to drive the team out. where you kept scaring the living shit out of everyone with your recklessness. where you kept getting scolded and had the audacity to drag him into it. where you had smiled at him and winked when he glared at you.

“boom!” you open the door to his office with a loud exclamation.

“how’d the mission go?” he asks, yet doesn’t look up at you.

“well sweetheart, grant me a pretty smile and i’ll let you know.”

he rolls his eyes before looking up at you. the papers in his hands go slack but he remains calm. “you’re hurt?”

you flash a grin at him. “i miss those days when you’d drop everything and run up to me to check where i’m hurt.” you sigh out nostalgically.

he rolls his eyes, “after years with you, sweetheart, i’m used to the sight of you injured.”

“eh? hoshina from yesterday wouldn’t have said that.”

he looks back up at you, “what are you talking about?”

“yesterday you ran up to me and kissed me.”

“yesterday you went radio silent mid fight.”

he tries to glare you down but your eyes are soft, and your lips wear a small smile. you’re looking at him so tenderly he almost melts. he sighs and stands up. he melts.

“come here you baby.” you say with wide arms.

“how about you come here?” he huffs.

“because i’m in so much pain!” you yell and drop dead to the floor.

“ah, honey, you’ll get my floors dirty.” he squats down next to you, eyeing your face as you grin up at him.

“just me?” you grin teasingly.

his eyes widen before falling back narrowed. he lightly pushes your face away in an act of annoyance. you turn your face back to him and as fast as he normally is, with you, he’s always slow. before he knows it he’s tackled to the floor.

“ah- y/n! aren’t you in pain?” he looks up at you, a smile on his lips.

“yeah, my knee just popped back in place i think.”

“eh-?” he frowns. he tries to look at your frame but your caging him underneath your body.

you smile smugly at him, a hand grazing over the side of his ribs. “see, i got stabbed here, with one of the kaiju’s spikes.” you trail your hand down to his knee, voice softening and lowering, “i got thrown across the street and dislocated my knee trying to hop off a platform to run up to it.”

he stares up at you, listening to your storytelling. he knows what you’re doing and as much as he hates it, he loves how his heart still races at your warm touch.

“then, i had to duck and i think i sprained my hamstrings,” your hand moves lower down his thigh and his breathing gets slightly shallow-

“a-am i interrupting?” okonogi asks at the door.

hoshina gasps, trying to shove you away. you laugh and pat his thigh before getting off of him.

“no dear, we were just talking.” you smile up at her.

“o-on the floor?”

you nod, smiling wickedly at the flush on hoshina’s cheeks. “i was telling the vice captain how the mission went.”

“oh! i brought the reports about it actually, since you asked for them,” she says, forgetting what she saw to hand you the folder.

you sit criss crossed and thank her. “well dear,” you say to hoshina, tapping his head with the folder as you easily get up from that sitting position, “you should get back to work, i was only here to see you and you attacked me.”

“eh?” okonogi tilts her head.

“ah, how bad of me to want to inspect your injuries, honey.” he grits.

“you can inspect all you want,” you grin, pulling him up to his feet.

“hope you get better platoon leader y/n!” okonogi says cheerfully, “good to see you vice captain,” she bows respectfully before leaving.

you watch her leave and close the door. you look away for a second before smiling, moving your sight to hoshina who’s glaring you down. ah, how cute! he’s so cute when he’s all grouchy! only you get the worst out of him.

“yah!” he yells as your hug him and bite down on his cheek. “GET OFF!”

“BUT YOU’RE SO CUTE, BABY! WHY SO POUTY?” you ask as you grab his face, folder long forgotten and on the floor now.

“because you always interrupt my work-“ he frowns as you squish his face. your grip is strong and he glares at you.

“how can i not when i love you so much?” you grin before kissing his entire face as he grunts. ah, you just wanna eat him up!

“i love you too- DON’T BITE ME!” he screams and you cackle.

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c0smoshit · 6 months ago

Text

Winding down ࣪.⋆ ♡

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Link/reader ⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ fluffy stuff, nakedness and link being link // not proofread! ⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕝𝕠𝕥 ≫ He comes back home a bit roughed up and you decide to make his day better :) ⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ I LOVE domestic Link sm😭 ⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 2.012

"What's up?"

Your sweet and kind of nostalgic tone, even though he was only gone for a couple of hours, echoed inside his ears.

"Hmm?"

Your head peeked through the kitchen door, making his pained heart ache even more inside his chest. You were just too cute to look at.

His feet draged him through the door and it didn't matter how much they felt terrible inside his shoes at that moment, he would walk all the way into the kitchen to greet you instead of sitting down for once.

His clothes were somewhat roughed up and he swore he could already hear you inside his brain, scolding him for ruining up the clothes you had just spent your rupees in.

He felt your lips moving, however, his brain was too sloopy to make out the words, now finally standing in front of you.

"What's up-"

Your words finally entered through his ears but they were soon caught on your throat as your mouth was now pressed on the junction of his shoulder and neck.

After the brief moment he gave you to understant the sudden movement you hugged him back, arms wrapping soothingly around his torso as you caressed his back.

It wasn't much of a surprise, really, Link could be the most energetic and effervescent boy you had met but he also could have his down times, the ones in which he was the one who needed to be codled, to feel loved and secure.

And there he was now.

"I'm making dinner, wanna wait for me at the table?"

At the sound of the word "dinner" falling from your tongue, his ears perked up, he sure was hungry after all the errands he had to run today. Nevertheless, it had became a silent agreement that everytime he saw you preparing food, he would help you out the same way a kid would help out his mother slopily as she prepared the food. Carefully watching out for the child not to burn themselves.

. . .

Now, he was chopping some carrots the way you had told him to, as thin as his calloused hands could chop. But actually, in spite of the roughness of his palms, he's pretty good at slicing thanks to his sword abilities.

Oh lord his sword.

You had now recalled him quite sad as he glanced at his sword, but you hadn't asked him yet. Maybe it was because he got it somewhat wasted? had he broken it?

"Ow!"

Blue eyes quickly darted to you, finding your face first as he saw you biting your lip in pain and the he found your poor redenned finger. You had burned yourself while you were lost inside your mind, great.

And, of course, he practically ran to where you were standing.

"Let me see it"

His tone lowered a bit as he stepped closer into your personal space, something you thought he wasn't the type to but he really likes invading it, even without knowing what it would imply.

Sure, he was pretty reserved and quiet yet, he seemed to love getting inside your personal space. Putting his hands on top of yours as he corrected your posture with his sword whenever you wanted to learn how it felt to be him. His breath fanning over your neck as he watched closely while you were working on the table, his head resting on top of yours as his chest was flush to your back while you were riding Epona.

Why had god made someone so handsome yet so naive to notice?

It really got into your nerves sometimes too. The stares, comments and even the obvious filtratious behaviours many girls and even boys made yourself feel pretty miserable.

Couldn't he really notice whenever someone was flirting with him?

Of course not.

Still, he noticed the way you grew closer to him whenever someone got too close to him, grabbing his arm in a protective way. Dragging him away from unwanted sales and offers, the way your mood would swiftly change after that.

He could be naive with others, but he knew you too well.

"Does it still hurt?"

Huh?

Your eyes glanced into his own that where waiting patiently for your answer before lowering down and seeing a cute rosy band-aid wrapped around your finger.

"Wha- No, no, thanks"

You spat out, cheeks flustered as you realized you had dozed out thinking about stupid questions meanwhile he was taking care of your finger.

"Thank you Link"

You finally finished before taking your hand off his own and moving your head foward, lips crashing tenderly against his cheek. A gesture you had done over a dozen times now, yet he couldn't get used to.

"Wanna talk it out on a bath?"

You suggested as you picked up his plate, he was already standing up to offer you some help with the dishes but he seemed to have frozen a bit at your suggestion.

But he just nodded his head like a joyful puppy.

Taking him inside the bathroom with you, you opened the tap water, putting the perfect temperature you came to know was his.

"You look tired"

Your lips moved as a cloudy steamy fog started to linger freely inside the small room, taking his face on your hands you looked worriedly at his weary eyes.

Nothing a comfy bath couldn't fix, you thought.

And he did too, he loved taking baths, ever since he had to adapt to your strict routine of winding off at least once every two weeks.

He really didn't know your hands masaging his scalp would feel that good, yet he was laying on the bathtub with you on his lap once again.

It had nothing to do with sexual activities, absolutely not. He didn't care if you were both butt naked, wet and laying on each other, it didn't feel that way.

"Rough day today huh?"

Nodding, he had to contain his blush as he heard your sweet voice, quite embarrassed to be rambling on about his day, he just wanted to hear you, over and over again. He always did, not answering just, listening to you as if he wanted to have your voice recorded inside his brain forever.

Your left cheek resting on his right shoulder as now only your right hand was massaging his scalp with tender and slow strokes, his own arms were wrapped around your body as you both were melting inside the warm water and heat radiating from your bodies.

"I wanna stay like this forever"

You mumbled out, your hand finally giving up as now it rested on his chest, nestled comfortably on top of him you sighed dreamily.

"Not just here, everywhere. Being with you isn't enough"

He chuckled, making you sit up and crossing your hands over your chest.

"Oh so that's funny to you?"

Although it didn't seem as he was making fun of you, he was just in cloud 9 right now, just giggling and smiling around.

"Well, then I should leave you here so you can laugh all you want"

You said with a not-so-hidden soft smirk on your lips, your hands grabbing the side of the tub as you began to lift your hips up.

"That's it, I'm-"

Suddenly you were back down again, this time firmly secured by two calloused hands gripping your hips, not letting you go freely (god how you loved his strenght)

You tried to frown, but his hands coming dangerously closer to your sides made you giggle. Of course he knew you were ticklish.

So he smiled devishly, fingers drumming on your sides as you trashed helplessly on his lap, giggles falling from your lips as you begged him to please stop.

When water started to spill out of the bathtub his devilish tricks came to a stop, his eyes searching dearily for yours.

Looking up to see your teary eyed face he couldn't help himself but to feel like a teenager again, seeing your pretty face soaked up as you gained your breath made him fall harder for you.

"That's not fair"

You said as you slumped back down over his body, not caring if it was going to give you cramps everywhere the time you two decided to slip out.

Hands rubbing your naked back made you shut your eyes closed, his chin resting on the crown of your damp hair as you both breathed out.

He finally was himself once again.

#[ 📒 c0smos!fics ]#fluff #loz fluff #link fluff #loz link x reader #link x reader #loz link #loz fanfic #loz x reader #link x you

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chokchokk · 1 year ago

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since hard hours are open 🤭🤭

cannot stop thinking about possessive san taking the time to body worship you and make sure you know every single inch of your body is beautiful, loved, and only His. he doesn’t care how impatient you are or what you need — in that moment all he’s devoted to is making sure every piece of his love’s body is adored and tended to. possessive san spelling his name on your clit with his tongue, possessive san spelling his name on your neck with his tongue before he bites and sucks as he leaves hickies, just… possessive, devoted san .

FOR YOU(R) LOVE | choi san x fem!reader

a possessive!san hard thought and sequel to: "𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 (𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄)"

"Leave yourself all up to me, love."

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : All of his desire is directed towards you, but sometimes, preferably all the time— San just wants you all for himself.

"All up to my love..."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : hard thought, fluff, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 1.2k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : possessive boyfriend!san, tired girlfriend!reader, hickeys, love-bites, implied cunnilingus & orgasm denial; san wants reader bad and won’t hesitate to be bad

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : okay babes first of all thank you for being my first ever hard hour entry !!! i really appreciate you sharing your (god damn scorching hot) thoughts!! second, because i am not over the "intimate, sexy, tender" yet and probably never will be, here's my gift to you that i started writing as soon as i saw it because i wanted to do something for you!!! xx

this is also an invitation for all of yall to share your hard thoughts with me so i can make a thing out of this lol!!! like come awnnnn "choy hardly thinks" is so funny is it not??? like pls entertain me. hard or soft. i'll be there for you !!!! <33 anyway, always grateful for likes, reblogs, comments and all kinds of feedback xoxo

masterlist link | join my taglist

“Mmm, do you know what, sun?”, San murmurs, finally finished drying his wet hair with a towel from across the room, as you cuddle yourself deeper into the blanket side-ways, preparing to finally get some refreshing sleep, after you spent so much time in that putrid practice room.

“What do I know…”

San throws the soaked towel on the clothing rack and then continues to throw his heavy body against your back, immediately enveloping your physique with his arms, one over and one under your waist, to push his face into the nook of your neck. Through his nose, San breathes in the scent of your shampoo, and inhales the sweetness of your skin, as he plants soft kisses onto it.

“I really like how my name sounds out of your mouth.”

“Yeah?”, you whirr, smiling delicately, getting your fingers tangled up in San’s red strands over your shoulder, not yet realizing that two hours after your last carnal embrace, or not even twenty minutes after you jacked him off in the shower, your boyfriend still can’t get enough of you, no, could never be satiated, always preparing to make more place for you in his throbbing heart, especially fill his mind with your voice. “You like it when I call you by your name, Sannie?”

“Mhm,” he hums, and it should have been at this moment you notice how greedy his hand is slowly disappearing below the oversized shirt he gave you to sleep in– little to your knowledge that your boyfriend just wants your scent on his clothing– and catch on the fact you are enamoring San by your mere existence.

“It sounds so pretty,” he lisps, his lips pressed against your shoulder, as he gently pushes you over on your back, “it would feel so pretty, too, sunshine…”

“We’re feeling a lot tonight, aren’t we, Sannie?”, you mumble, slowly feeling your body melt around San’s heated arm securing itself over your waist, his hands slithering down your abdomen, thumb catching every inch of skin to brush over.

San doesn’t answer at first, lets his fingers playing with the seam of your panties and gently groping your breast talk for themselves.

“Sannie,” you sigh out, but your lover has already made up his mind, or at least let his mind run freely.

“Your skin is always extra soft when we’re done showering,” San tries to explain himself, his voice thickening warmly against your neck, and you have to suppress a whine at his fingertips simultaneously finding your clothed cunt and nipple. “Makes me want to touch it, you know…”

“I know, Sannie, I know,” you utter, but your boyfriend is already carrying on with his entranced adulation.

“Makes me want to run my hands all over your skin,” and San does so, by cruising around on your torso, gripping each tit with his calloused hands with an eagerness that makes you bite your lip, “and get a taste of how warm I make you,” you can hear the pecks of his kisses land on your jaw, “shit, Y/N, I want you so fucking bad, I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“S- Sannie,” you whisper, as your boyfriend playfully bites into your ear. “How do you still have the energy…”

“Oh, sunny,” San chuckles and grinds his building erection against your ass, emitting a grunt out of him, “for you I always make energy.”

You say, “I c-can see that,” and lie, because your eyes are closed down, nevertheless making you more sensitive to your lover’s touch, digit rotating on your slowly more and more wet panties.

“It was a long week, wasn’t it?”, San asks and nibbles your earlobe.

“Yeah…”

“A long week of not getting to touch my Y/N…”

“Sannie…”

The man in question hums and gets his arms out, tussling himself away from your side pinning his arms over each side of your head. It makes you need to look up to him through your eyelashes and San looks at you, his so lovable girlfriend, with a hunger and greed you don’t know whether you are prepared for or could ever be prepared for.

“Can you take off your shirt by yourself or are you so tired I have to do it for you, sunshine?”, he asks, wearing a friendly smile that you can only weakly scoff about.

“Sannie…” Unaware that you whimpering out his name only gets him riled up even more, you pout. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow…?”

“It’s already tomorrow, sun,” San smirks, getting both of his hands under your shirt to pull it over and get it off your body, immediately getting his mouth at your neck, causing you to moan out and roll your head to the side, granting him more access to your skin. “I’ve got to make love to you right now.”

“Sannie…”

“Ohhh, Y/N.”

You whine at him parroting your worn-out tone, while San seems to be working his tongue into your neck until he can feel your precious heart pulsate through your throat, sucking red patches of his passion across your collar so you can wear his love like an accessory. You already look so pretty, San thinks, but after your boyfriend sees how his marks embellish you, he really wants you to know what he thinks of you— you, his gorgeous, beautiful, ravishing, ravishable, fuck, so fucking perfect girlfriend.

“How do you expect me to close my eyes and sleep when you look like this, Y/N…”

“Sannie, please,” you murmur, but gulp, when he begins to kiss down your torso; the smacks of his lips linger warmly across your body and San can feel how your cunt clenches— he snickers once he does.

“Just relax and leave it all up to me, alright?”

You press your head deep down the pillow to his words and feel how he’s sliding your panties down. He leaves a trail of deep, rousingly red love-bites that feel like San is drawing the curvature of his lips into you as if you were his canvas— and in many ways, you are— and as he sucks, your mind becomes heavy in both fatigue and pleasure.

“Alright?”, San repeats himself and you nod, floating in a world that’s drowned in your boyfriend’s love either way. Such a dreamy man…

“Yes, Sannie,” you breathe out, feeling San press his lips into your abdomen, ultimately losing the fight of cuddling him to well-deserved sleep tonight.

“Leave yourself all up to me, love…”

Your lover grins, knowing that you will be kicking your feet and screaming at him in frustration at the end of this night, because oh, Y/N, if you thought your Sannie was just going to eat you out and call it a day, you’re so… wow, so… mistaken— San isn’t between your legs to give you a nice time, he’s here to free him from all the dammed up desire, let it pour down on you in the pattern of deeply red-painted roses, scatter them all over your body for him to admire and adore.

It’s what you deserve, having your legs tremble, having your eyes tear up, voice whirring frailly in the air to finally let you cum, as San spells out a eulogy on your clit, pronouncing you his forever flame who will never fail to make him burn hot, ignite him until his muscles give into the heat and melt into your embrace. But until then… It’s a long time coming, sunshine. Haha.

“All up to my love…”

#choy hardly thinks #choi san x y/n #choi san x reader #choi san smut #choi san scenarios #choi san x you #choi san fluff #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #chokkiwa

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notastraykid · 6 months ago

Text

Winding Road

Pairing: non idol Chan x fem reader (talked about only) Genre: Angst Warnings: Death of fem reader implied

Chan’s days were woven with the threads of routine and remembrance. Each morning, as the sun cast a golden hue over the city, he would set out on the same winding road that led past a house that once brimmed with laughter, love and promises of forever. It stood there, silent and stoic, a testament to what had been and what could have been.

The house was like a beacon, pulling him towards it with an invisible force. He knew every crevice of its walls, every creak of its floors. Memories flooded his mind with each step he took; memories of tender touches, whispered promises, and shared dreams. But time had been a cruel thief, snatching away his beloved into the eternal slumber. He knew that the unrelenting tide of life had carried her beyond his reach and he would be forever without. ‘Time would heal’ he was told, ‘eventually you’ll be able to move on with your life and be happy again’. In his heart, he knew they meant well, but how could he explain that every fibre of his being was intertwined with hers? That moving on felt less like healing and more like leaving a piece of himself behind? So he continued his daily pilgrimage, a testament to a love that refused to be left in the past. As he passed the house each day, he allowed himself a moment to pause, to feel the ache of loss and the warmth of nostalgia, conflicting but welcomed. He knew he would never cross its threshold again or gaze into eyes that mirrored his soul, completing his heart. But in his half heart, he carried a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, love could find a way back. And so, Chan walked on, following the road not to reach a destination but to honour a journey that had shaped him. In his pining, there was pain, but also beauty in the memories. As he walked the familiar path, his thoughts often wandered to the soft caress of a hand against his, the gentle press of lips in a kiss that promised forever. The house, with its shuttered windows and silent walls, held echoes of tender moments spent under the shelter of its roof. Sometimes, he could almost hear the faint melody of their favourite song dancing in the air, a ghostly serenade that spoke of love’s sweet refrain. He remembered nights spent under the stars, wrapped in an embrace that felt like coming home and evenings cuddled by the fire as the rain battered the windows. They would dance in the kitchen, barefoot and care free, as their dinner simmered on the stovetop. Their days would almost always end in evenings on the porch swing, sharing their future dreams and wishes that would now never happen. Though the pain of loss was sharp, it was entwined with the sweetness of love that had once blossomed in that very place. The winding road was not just a path of sorrow but also a trail of rose petals, each one a memory of passion and connection. As the seasons changed, so did the house. Its paint peeled, its garden overgrew and the wood on the porch swing had begun to rot, and yet Chan’s ritual remained unaltered. The road seemed to grow longer with each passing day, his steps heavier, as if he carried the weight of his lost love on his shoulders. As snowflakes began to gently blanket the world in white, Chan made his way to the house for what he knew would be the last time. He stood before it, the cold biting at his skin, and let out a breath that hung in the air like a whispered goodbye. He pulled his scarf closer around his neck. With a heart heavy as stone, he reached out to touch the gate that had once welcomed him with open arms. It was then that he noticed a single rose, defiant against the frost, blooming where once there had been many. Tears welled in his eyes as he realised that this rose was a symbol of their love. It was beautiful but solitary, enduring yet ultimately fleeting. He left the rose untouched as a silent tribute to a love that had warmed his heart even in the coldest of times. He turned away from the house, knowing he would never return. His heart would never heal but time had moved on. The winding road stretched out before him, leading him away from his past and into an uncertain future where her memory would be both his solace and his sorrow.

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nyanko-sensei-tte-yonde · 21 days ago

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A worn-out Natori encounters Matoba after he's attacked by the youkai that's after his eye.

Wrote this instead of sleeping last night~

--- ---

“It seems you took a bit of a beating.”

Shuuichi bit back a groan at the familiar voice. He was exhausted and indeed a little beat up and not in the mood. He took two seconds to consider how much it might bite in him the ass to leave without acknowledging the person who’d spoken. “It happens sometimes, as you well know.” He forced himself to look up and saw Matoba step out from a thicket of trees. “What are you doing here, Matoba-san?” He couldn’t find the energy to keep the hostility out of his voice.

“I was just in the area when I noticed a big hubbub over this way. You’ve made quite a mess.” Matoba’s gaze left Shuuichi’s face to take in the battered building behind him. Most of the damage to the building had been from decades of neglect, but the scraps of paper littering the ground and the deep pits gouged into the dirt were from a youkai that had proven more difficult to seal than Shuuichi had expected. The porch on the tiny cottage also had a few new scratches, as well as a small splatter of his blood.

“You’re not looking so good yourself.” Shuuichi collapsed onto the porch, fighting down the urge to itch at the cut on his cheek. His agent was going to give him an earful later.

“Is that so?” Matoba flashed a cocky grin as he sat down next to him. He looked, in a word, like shit. His hair hung limply over his face and his kimono was scuffed and torn. What was left of the umbrella leaning against his leg hung in tatters over the crooked frame and now that Shuuichi was looking closely, he could see a cut on the side of his lip. There was a faint smear of blood next to it, as if it’d been hastily wiped with a sleeve.

“Worse than me.” Shuuichi shrugged. His shiki had hidden themselves in the cottage at Matoba’s approach, but he was aware that Matoba was aware of their presence. He still didn’t let his gaze hover on the shoji door for too long. He thought Sasago might’ve been injured in the fight and wanted Matoba to leave so he could see to her.

“A lucky shot, is all,” Matoba said quietly. His hand went to the eyepatch covering his right eye absently.

Shuuichi stared at him for a moment. “It almost got you.”

“Oh, no,” Matoba chuckled. “This is just from it thrashing in frustration before running off.” He nudged the umbrella with his foot. “How many years has it been coming for my eye now? I suppose I’ve grown complacent.”

“Your people must be looking for you.” Shuuichi hoped the implied ‘So leave’ was strong enough to make him do so.

“Likely.” It wasn’t. Matoba’s eye scanned over the trees but he didn’t seem terribly concerned with being found. “They have other injured to tend to, though, and the youkai won’t be back for another month.”

Shuuichi frowned. “So shouldn’t you be with them?”

“They can handle themselves,” Matoba said. He stifled a yawn. “And I’m sure they’re happy to get a break from the cause of their injuries.”

He swept his hair over his shoulder and started to lean to the side. Before he could register what was happening Shuuichi found himself with Matoba’s head in his lap. Shuuichi felt the urge to smack his irritating face but squashed it. Matoba brought out so many childish impulses that he thought he’d gotten rid of, none of which he could act on. Shuuichi settled for scowling down at him.

“Let me rest for a moment, won’t you?” There was a pleading tone to his drawl, at once mocking and weary.

Shuuichi adjusted his glasses as he glanced back through the gap in the sliding door. Hiiragi stared down at them, looking somehow shocked through her mask. He shot her a helpless look and waved for them to go on ahead. He could tell the client he took care of the youkai later, and in any case he wouldn’t torment his shiki by making them wait around while he entertained Matoba’s whims.

“Matoba-san. I’m sure you’re aware I’m a busy man. I do have places to be.”

“Indeed. I can’t imagine the schedule you must keep to shoot movies and commercials while doing exorcism work. I hear you’re doing another detective movie?”

“You watch movies?”

“I am a human being who needs to engage in leisure activities, though I get few opportunities.”

“I suppose…” Shuuichi managed to suppress a snort at the idea of Matoba sitting in a movie theatre, jumbo popcorn and soda in hand. Would he be interested in free tickets? It seemed like a bad idea to ask.

“You’re quite charming on screen,” Matoba said.

“I see.” Shuuichi caught himself before he could feel flattered. “Are you implying I’m not charming elsewhere?”

“You play your characters with complexity. It’s compelling to watch Akeboshi as he struggles, moreso than when he’s in his element. It’s shocking how different you are in person.”

“Hm." Shuuichi could feel his face heating up for no good reason. It wasn’t like he’d never had his acting praised before, but hearing the easy sincerity in Matoba’s voice made him uncomfortable in ways he didn’t like.

“Though I hope you don’t plan to leave the exorcism business to focus on acting.”

Shuuichi snorted. Was he implying he’d be missed? “Thanks, Matoba-san.”

Matoba sighed, his fingers on Shuuichi’s knee strangely tense. “There was a time… when you’d call me Seiji.”

“…” Shuuichi didn’t know what to say to that. “Yeah. There was.” It was when they’d been in high school, naive brats who’d barely known what they were doing or what their respective positions were in the world. Had it only been six years? Or had it been six years already?

“Shuuichi-san.” Matoba’s voice was much deeper now than it had been when he was sixteen, but it had the same playful tone as he said it.

“Yes?” Shuuichi had to fight the tightness in his throat to get the word out. He hoped Matoba hadn’t heard it.

“Wake me up when the sun starts to set?”

“Okay.” It wouldn’t give him long to nap. Shuuichi didn’t know why he agreed, but he couldn’t take it back. The sun was already low, casting its golden hour sheen over the air. Somehow, in this light, even the ruined yard and dilapidated cottage felt peaceful.

He sat for a while as Matoba breathed softly against him. He almost wanted to do something stupid like stroke his hair. Instead he kept himself still, wary of doing anything that might wake up the man sleeping on his lap. He had nothing to do but watch the wind stir the trees and send bits of paper stumbling over the grass. His shiki were probably wondering what was keeping him, and he didn’t know how to explain to them that he’d let an enemy take a nap on top of him for upwards of an hour.

Finally, as Shuuichi’s legs were going numb and his knees were beginning to complain, he leaned in close to Matoba’s ear. “Hey. Seiji.”

“Natori!” He looked up to see Nanase coming through the trees. Her voice had a bite of venom to it.

Shit. Why did he feel like he got caught with his pants down? Shuuichi wanted to say something like, “I can explain,” but an explanation would only make the scene the old woman had stumbled upon weirder. He bit his tongue.

“Nanase.” Matoba sat up quickly enough that Shuuichi wondered if he’d actually been asleep. They exchanged a glance and she inclined her head toward him. Her eyes went to Natori for a moment, full of displeasure, before she turned and retreated back into the woods.

Matoba stood and picked up his broken umbrella before turning to Shuuichi with a smile that was hard to read. “It must be difficult dealing with your family’s reputation. Have you thought about—”

“I don’t know if you’re trying to get me to stay in the exorcism business or not,” Shuuichi laughed.

“—joining the Matoba clan?”

The mirth left Shuuichi all at once, but he laughed again, bitterly this time. He stood. “I don’t know if you’d really want someone with as many vulnerabilities as me.” Matoba was silent, looking at Shuuichi with a calculatedly blank expression. “You know I’d never do that. I’ve never liked you.”

Matoba looked away, something about his posture forlorn even though his expression didn’t change. “That’s too bad. You’re my only friend in the world.”

He didn’t meet Shuuichi’s eyes as he turned away. There might have been a slight smile on his lips. He crossed the yard and left without saying anything more. Shuuichi stayed where he was, watching the last flutters of his kimono disappear into the trees.

#natsume yuujinchou #my writing #horrible exorcists #hexfest2k24 #natori shuuichi #matoba seiji #rotating them in my head #thinking abt them in the miharu house

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huihuiheart · 1 year ago

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Kinktober D7: Savory - Wonwoo

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Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Seventeen Masterlist

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x Afab! Reader

Genre: Slight angst (tiny), fluff, smut

Summary: Wonwoo is there to comfort and remind you of things whenever the negative thoughts start to take hold, and he has every intention of showing you just how much he loves you.

Warnings: Food guilt, implied negative body image, fingering, lots of praise, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 1389

“Wonu I’m in the mood for something, you know… bad for me.” You tell him with a pout making him actually look up from his book now that you’ve answered in regards to what you want for dinner.

“That’s okay love, we’ve cooked at home a lot and it’s been a lot of work. Sometimes it’s okay to go with what will make you joyful, even if your mind tries to guilt you for it.” He assures you, putting his bookmark on the page before setting it aside, “In regards to what comfort food you want though, you’ll need to be slightly more specific as bad for you doesn’t really narrow it down all too much.”

You pout a little more at the light teasing though he’s quick to kiss it away, “ Hm.. what about pizza? Oh with extra cheese and bacon and pepperoni, and maybe feta? We can get it from that place with the really good garlic crust too. Please Wonu.”

He nods, giving in immediately to your light pleads, “Of course, but only if we’re getting an order of garlic knots too. We can’t have pizza without that.”

The way you light up at his words make him smile even more as he gets up to get his phone and put the pizza order in for you both. And for a while the world is good until the food gets there and you start to feel a little bit guilty. Wonwoo frowns as he notices the look on your face and what it means.

“Sweetheart, you’ve been taking such good care of your body and working so hard. Forcing yourself to make and eat something else when this is what your heart is telling you it needs to make you feel good emotionally isn’t worth it. Listening to your body includes your emotional needs too.” You know he’s right, but it’s not enough to make you give in right away. Now until he takes a bite and kisses you after, licking into your mouth so that you can get a taste of what you’ve been craving and that is what makes you cave finally.

Wonwoo's encouragement is all it takes for you to eat your fill, heart feeling warm and fuzzy at both his affections and at getting the comfort food you've been craving. Though he chuckles when he sees you pout at licking your lips.

"What is it now sweetheart?" He inquires softly, gently brushing your hair away from your face.

"I feel like I can feel the grease on my skin." You explain and he chuckles taking your hand.

"It's possible, but it's also possible that now that your stomach is nice and full you can focus on other things like how you've had a long day and your skin has since gotten oily." He explains leading you to the bathroom and getting you a headband to hold the hair back and start washing your face for you. Leaning in to give little pecks all the while, "You're so gorgeous, you know that. So beautiful for me."

His soft praises make you whine, but you don't squirm until he's done and his kisses are trailing to your neck, "My beautiful girl, do you know what you do to me?"

"I-..." You're cut off by a soft moan when he nips at your sweet spot, "What…What to I do to you Wonu?"

His hand takes yours and leads it to the bulge in his sweatpants, "All this and so much more sweetheart. You'll let me show you how beautiful you are to me won't you?"

All it takes is a soft nod before he's carrying you to bed, leaving little pecks all over your face before kissing you deeply, letting you taste him and it almost seems better with the savory taste of your comfort there as well. Wonwoo grinding down softly as you both make out for who knows how long before he slowly grows impatient. Hands slowly slipping your shirt up and off you, exposing new skin for his lips to worship with kisses and little love bites that'll leave only a faint mark with how gentle he is with them today.

Wonwoo gently kneads your breasts through the bra at first, his lips trailing along the edge of it before he finally folds and takes it off so he can give you even more appreciation. His kisses soon lead to your nipples before his lips finally wrap around one, sucking softly to draw out even more of your moans that he loves so much.

"That's it sweetheart, just let me know how good you feel with those pretty sounds of yours and leave everything else to me beautiful." Wonwoo praises softly switching to give your other nipple the same attention before his kisses are trailing lower as his hands start to undo your pants.

"But Wonu." When you start whining out a protest all you get is a harsher nip and a warning glare before you concede and melt beneath his ministrations. Lifting your hips to help him finish undressing you and so that he can trail his lips lower for you now. His lips pressing softly to your hip as a finger swipes through your folds to collect your wetness before rubbing softly at your clit. He suckles a faint mark onto your hip, before he’s slowly kissing back up and slipping a finger in. He works it slowly as he worships the skin on your chest and stomach. However, when he slips in a second finger his lips are back up to yours, kissing you and stealing away the sounds you make into his mouth as his thumb circles your clit.

“Love my fingers so much don’t you, my beauty?” Wonwoo doesn’t expect a verbal answer from you, not with the way he curls his fingers just the way you like after asking. Content for your moans to be answer enough for him. Confidence soaring due to it as well, making him all the more determined to make you cum on his fingers while he commits your sounds and the feeling of your lips to his memory.

“You always taste better when you’re happy like this.” Wonwoo praises into the kiss, “Bet you cum harder too, don’t you sweetheart? Why don't you show me?"

His praises and requests of you tip you over the edge as he begins licking into your mouth again. Your moans sending shivers down his spine as he rides you through the high, gently he's slipping his fingers out and putting them in his mouth with a moan.

"Wonu." You're whining when he seems to be hypnotized by the taste of you on his fingers, wanting his attention back on you again.

"Sorry sweetheart, I got carried away didn't I?" He apologizes, giving a soft peck to your pout before he's working to strip himself. "Is this what you want, my beauty? For me to show you every last ounce of my love?"

When you nod it makes him chuckle, lining up to slowly start pressing into you. One hand lifting your leg up to wrap around him before it rests on the mattress besides your hips. His other hand cupping your cheek as he leans down to kiss you with the first soft roll of his hips into yours. Wonwoo keeps it short and sweet though before he's pressing his forehead against yours and looking into your eyes as he picks up the pace a little bit. The eye contact is intense and makes you fluster and shy away a little bit, before Wonwoo is gently turning your face to look at him again.

"Don't do that sweetheart. I want to see all that I do for you…to you. Just like I want you to see all that you do to me, my beauty." He urges you as he takes his time, but with a precision that reminds you just how dedicated he is to you and your body.

"Okay Wonu… I'll show you what you do to me…so long as I can see you falling apart for me as well." You pant out between moans earning yourself another kiss and whisper of I love yous against your lips before he's looking into your eyes again.

"For you my beauty… I will always fall…"

If you enjoy my work please keep in mind how much time and effort goes into it and show support through comments and reblogs, or consider buying me a kofi. (Caffeine fuels the chaotic gremlin in me who creates content.)

#seventeen imagine #seventeen fic #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo oneshot #wonwoo imagine #kinktober 2023

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andheresthething · 2 years ago

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I Got So Fucking Romantic, I Apologize

Summary: Cute lazy morning (afternoon) with Nightowl.

[No use of y/n] [Lazy Mornings] [But it's really 2 pm] [Cuddling & Snuggling] [Kissing] [Love Bites] [Pet Names] [Dorks in Love] [I cannot stress it enough you act like teenagers in love] [Implied Sexual Content] [You're smaller than him] [Established Relationship]

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Notes:

I recently played Blooming Panic and absolutely fell HARD for Nightowl. This is the first time I've ever posted any of my writing and it's been a while since I've written at all so this will probably be rusty. I might write more (could make a spicy follow-up) if people like this one, though it might be delayed because carpal tunnel is a bitch.

Gender-neutral reader for yall :)

I wrote this while listening to my character playlist for him

Reposted from AO3

Also, I haven't used Tumblr since MIDDLE SCHOOL so I apologize for things being strange to the platform

●▬▬▬▬▬๑⇩⇩๑▬▬▬▬▬●

Rays of light shone through the drawn blinds of the bedroom you and Nightowl shared. The small beams laid across the two of you sleeping well into early afternoon. You slowly blink and let out a yawn, taking a moment to come into the conscious world.

Once your eyes adjusted you finally get a look at the blonde sleeping on his side next to you. His chest slowly rising and falling and an arm draped over you. Lips slightly apart, just enough to show a sliver of his front teeth, and his neck and collar bones covered in spots that ranged in shades of purple. Though a familiar sight for you to see each day, it never grew old. Each day, without fail, your heart would flutter the same way it did when you spent your first night together. You cracked a smile, just watching and waiting for your partner to wake.

Sometimes it was still baffling to you that clicking on a discord invite led to this. How fast everything moved between the two of you was unexpected, but not unwelcomed in the slightest. You recall all the nights the two of you would spend up, talking about anything and everything until you fell asleep. Nightowl would follow shortly after, but would never hang up the call. Some of the time right before he’d turn in as well, you were just conscious to hear him say, ‘I can’t wait until we can do this in person. Goodnight, Cutie. Sweet dreams.’

Your smile grew thinking about those early times of your relationship, though soon enough you were broken from the little daydream with the feeling of Nightowl lifting his arm off of you, stretching himself awake with a yawn.

“Mornin, sweetheart,” you said as he lowered his arm back to hold you. He sleepily smiled, then placed a light kiss on your forehead.

“Good morning, cutie,” he smiled, “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“Impossible, plus I lost myself in thought, so I doubt I would have noticed an hour going by.”

“Care to indulge me?” Nightowl asked while moving his hand to hold yours.

“I was just thinking about our old late-night calls before I got to move in with you and how sometimes when I was half asleep I’d hear you say how you couldn’t wait for this to happen for real and wished me goodnight”

Nightowl squeezed your hand, eyes lighting up slightly. Your little story seemed to help wake him up from his groggy state, “Awe, I love you getting all sappy and nostalgic on me first thing in the morning, cutie.”

“I always felt all stupid and happy whenever I heard it.”

“You know,” he scootched as close as he could be to you without being completely on top of you, “I did it every. Single. Night.” he hummed, peppering a kiss on your face between every word, and you giggled with each one.

“Really?”

He put on a serious face, sharply nodding, “Without fail. I still do actually. Granted, I’ve changed that first part a tiny bit considering you’re now actually here with me, in the flesh.”

“Awe, sweetheart, you’re literally the best. How’d I get so lucky?” you reached to hug him. Maybe a bit too enthusiastically, though, as you managed to push Nightowl over on his back and put yourself on top of him, burying your face in his neck in the process, “Seriously, I could have never imagined having someone who does stuff like that for me all to myself.”

“ You can’t believe you have me all to yourself?” Nightowl laughed, “I should be the one saying that. I was such a hungover ass to you after knowing you for, like, five days, and you still wanted to be with me after that night. You’re the one here that's the best,” he refuted, placing a kiss on the side of your head, “To have someone as precious as you makes me the lucky one here, darling.”

“Mmm, I’d have to disagree with you.”

“Incorrect and unfactual statement.”

You lifted yourself enough to meet your eyes with his, “As much as I’d love to continue this to prove I’m, in fact, correct on this matter, I think I’m a little too tired to try.”

“So what you're saying is that I win?” he said with the biggest shit-eating grin. You groaned at his playful antic and started to push yourself up, now straddling his lap as he still laid underneath you, which also effectively pushed the blanket once covering the two of you off and behind you.

“Sure, you win, dumbass. What shall your prize be?”

“Can it be anything?” he said excitedly.

You knew you might regret the answer you were going to give, but went through with it anyway, “Sure, anything you want, sweetheart,” with that, you sealed your fate.

“Hmm, what a tough decision to make,” Nightowl exaggeratedly pondered while pushing himself back slightly to be able to sit up with his arms supporting him from behind. You also moved so that you were sitting in his lap, legs wrapped around his bare lower waist, and brought your arms around his neck. Your arms sat on the soft fabric that was the straps of his crop top, “The possibilities are endless, cutie. How could I ever just choose one thing?”

You giggled at his complaint, “You better, the offer is going to expire soon. Then you just get bragging rights.”

“Oh, how cruel! How could you?” he moved his arms from behind him to hold your hips.

“I know, I’m such a horrible person,” you said, matching his sarcastic and playful tone.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, you took the time to admire his face. The small beams of light highlighted his softer features. They made his messy hair shine and his brown eyes sparkle, revealing all the little flakes of different shades that resided in them.

The light also reflected off of his cartilage piercings. Nightowl had a bad habit of not taking out his earrings before bed. No matter how many times you reminded him, he always forgot. It wasn’t the end of the world that he didn’t, though. At least he remembered to take out his statement piece each night.

In that time, Nightowl did the same, soaking in the sight of you. Hair just as messy as his own, a stupid wide smile, and a pair of beaming eyes staring into his own. But your shirt, God it was killing him. It was one of his own that you’d steal regularly to wear almost anywhere. While purposefully somewhat oversized on him, you were swimming in it, allowing your neck and collar bones, covered in marks (courtesy of him), to be exposed. Maybe it was his somewhat possessive nature, but the mix of the shirt and hickies fogged his mind with a myriad of thoughts ranging from wholesome to extremely sexual.

“Have you made a decision yet?” your words snapped him out of his short, albeit very vivid, daydream, “Or are we just going to settle for bragging rights?”

“Nope! I’ve come up with my prize.”

“That would be?”

“One super lazy, stay-in-date day complete with stupid horror movies and possibly some more… intimate affairs later on,” he paused, “Please.”

You pretended to think it over, despite the arrangement of this prize. While you, of course, got tasked with a pile of work for the weekend, you couldn’t care less about it. Getting ripped by your boss on Monday would be worth it, especially with the not-at-all-subtle proposition for later in the day. Knowing Nightowl though, it would probably come way sooner than nightfall. “You, sir, have yourself a deal.”

You gave him a small peck, but Nightowl being Nightowl, was having none of that. He immediately put his lips back on yours, tightening his grip on your hips. While it took you slightly by surprise, you gladly accepted the act, kissing him back. Quickly things became heated, pulling each other closer, the movement of your lips becoming desperate. Your hands drifted to his hair, lightly grabbing at it, which Nightowl responded to by letting out a small moan into your mouth. That noise of his set you off, eager to continue the sudden act of intimacy.

Unfortunately, as quickly as it picked up, it stopped. Nightowl pulled away and loosened his hold on you, causing you to let out a small whine of disappointment.

“As much as I don’t want to stop this right now, cutie, I’m starving for some actual food, not just you.”

You let out a chuckle, arms going back down to rest on his shoulders, “You’re such a tease.”

“Says the one wearing nothing but my shirt,” he flirted, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face once again. “Looks great on you, by the way. Makes your ass and thighs look fantastic. Especially your thighs.”

“I do, in fact, have something on under, mister,” you retorted, “But if you’re that hungry, I guess we could go scrounge up something, but by we, I mean me. We both know you can't cook for shit.”

“Ouch, that one stung.”

“It’s not that bad if I like cooking and you like eating it. Plus, you get to stare at my thighs all you want while I do so.”

“A win is a win,” he lifted one hand off your hips to cup your cheek. “Shall we then?”

“To the kitchen!” you giggled.

Nightowl gave you one last kiss on your forehead before putting his hand down, allowing you to get up off of him and the bed. He followed suit, loosely holding your hand. With that, you led the way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to start your long date day at 2 pm.

#blooming panic #bloomic #blooming panic fanfic #bloomic fanfic #nightowl #blooming panic nightowl #bp nightowl #bloomic nightowl #blooming panic x reader #nightowl x reader #bp nightowl x reader #bloomic nightowl x reader #sfw

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godnectar · 10 months ago

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sorry, sorry, i saw "yandere" & "dilf" & "breeding" and couldn't help but come into your inbox and asking you to combine them. me being me, how about we breed the handsome darling <3 promise him a new litter of pups, that you know he'll be such a good parent and how they'll all love him so sweetly, just let us knock him up

・✶ ｡ﾟ☆ YANDERE DILF ☆ ;

★ note: ,,my ass ended up getting shy– so the nsfw is just hottie dilf having some nice thoughts than actual sex 😭

cw: age gap ig?, gn!reader, possessiveness, big man has two kids, teacher + neighbor reader, jealousy, stalking, lovely fantasizing, implied handjob, marking & breeding kink.

YANDERE DILF! who, some months ago, moved with his kids into the house next door to yours, old car arriving in a random morning with a big, burly, handsome man driving and two small children in the backseat, giggling at the prospect of a new life and all the friends and people they'd meet while the truck stands low and heavy with the amount of boxes and plushies it carried.

YANDERE DILF! who, the first thing he did after spending a day or two arranging boxes and furniture, was going to introduce himself and his little family to the neighborhood, knocking door to door with a happy, smiley expression which turned into a blushy, nervous one the moment he locked gazes with you.

YANDERE DILF! who, after having a small chat with you on the front porch of your house, learns that you not only are his next-door neighbor, but also the soon-to-be kindergarten teacher of his kids once the school season starts.

of course, the information slips like nothing into his dumbfounded mind as his heart shaped eyes can only stay focused on how pretty you looked under the sun, cute little pajamas covering your very much smaller form that could surely be protected and embraced by his larger one… if you'd let him, that is.

YANDERE DILF! who, with the excuse of it being by petition of his children, starts visiting your place more and more often, taking every chance possible to interact with you and get your attention, as it has been a good while since he last felt this giddy and interested in someone after his divorce.

YANDERE DILF! who, from behind the curtains of his window, sometimes likes to peek out and watch whatever is going on in the neighborhood, and by that, including whatever is it that's going on with you.

do you really think he doesn't notice how almost every day you're visited by either friends or family, or even other neighbors? do you think he likes it when you spend the night with whoever that disgusting guy he saw the other day was? of course not! maybe he should show you how to actually spend your time with someone who truly deserves it.

YANDERE DILF! who, during one of those nights the kids are with their mother, decides to knock on your door in hopes of passing the evening with his favorite, pretty neighbor. he hasn't seen anyone entering through your door all day, nor has noticed you being tired or in a hurry… so there shouldn't be any problem if he spent some hours with you, right?

YANDERE DILF! who quickly regrets his decision after a few minutes of being at your house. if only he wasn't so infatuated. if only he knew how to control himself, he wouldn't be in this situation right now. with a cozy, fluffy blanket thrown over his lap as he sits on the couch of your living room and slightly biting his lip as his dreamy gaze stays on you, the man is trying his best not to let the raging boner he's hiding be noticeable.

YANDERE DILF! who, after following the conversation and saying his goodbyes with the constant reminding memory of how lovely your smile is and how sweetly you talked to him, finally returns home, pants tented. once inside the private walls of his room, he ends up considering that it wouldn't be so bad to relieve some stress and help himself out.

...or would it?

is it bad? is he bad for wanting you to be the one wrapping yourself around his throb instead of his fist? for imagining those gorgeous lips of yours that are always smiling, now letting out the cutest moans ever while he covers every inch of your skin in purple marks, hips thrusting as deep as they can go? is he bad, for desiring to be cumming in you, instead of the messy stickiness he's loading out in his palm, needing to make such an angel only his?

“Don't worry, sweetheart... You'll be mine one day, and I will make sure of it. Just wait for me.”

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