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satorusugurugurl · 5 months ago

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Teasing JJK Men With a Popsicle

Summary: When the sun is hot, you cool off with a tasty ocy treat! While also teasing your boyfriend.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU), AFAB!Reader

Warnings: suggestiveness, food play?? language, kissing, teasing, mock blowjobs, smutty-esque

Word Count: 5,5k

A/N: this is another poll prompt I did awhile back! I'm slowly getting back into the swing of things now that my writers block is gone! Enjoy!!

Gojo Satoru:

“Good mornin—ooh—” Shoko held her cigarette between her teeth, watching you boil with anger. “Not a good morning?” she asked, cockimg a brow as you plopped down on the bench next to her.

“It would’ve been if it wasn’t for Gojo.”

“Yikes, using your boyfriend‘s last name. What did he do to piss you off??

“It’s on the lines of what he ‘didn’t do.’” Your best friend took a long drag and blew the smoke above her head.

“I’m going to regret asking this, but what happened?”

The morning has started with the potential of being a great day. Gojo had you on top of him, rocking your hips against his morning wood, getting you all riled up before he broke the kiss. He quickly got out of bed, claiming that he needed to get ready for the meeting, which you knew was a crock of shit, but instead of calling him out, you made the mistake of joining him in the shower. He had you pinned against the wall, pressing between your legs, teasing your pussy before pulling away the second you began grinding down on him. It was painfully clear your asshole of a boyfriend decided to edge you all fucking morning. Once you made this discovery, you did your best to avoid him and his seductive advances.

But avoiding him was easier said than done.

On the ride to school, his fingers teased your inner thighs, rubbing the skin gently. When you finally made it to work, he cornered you in a classroom, rubbing himself over the fat of your ass. Gojo had woken up and chose violence this morning, and you were his victim.

“I’m seriously about to ask Yaga to send me off to supervise a mission or something to get me away from him.”

The only reason you were able to maintain some form of composure was all thanks to the first year’s training session Gojo was instructing. You had an hour to try to calm yourself down to get through the rest of the day, but knowing Gojo, he wouldn’t make the rest of the day easy. No amount of time would prepare you for the relentless torture. That was sure to ensue the second he got back from his lesson.

Shoko blew out another cloud, cupping some dark hair behind her ear. “Your solution is simple.” You stared blankly at your best friend. “You tease the bastard back.” Part of you jumps eagerly at the idea of switching the playing field. Part of you began cooking up all sorts of plots to invoke your revenge. The other half of you pouts, sinking slowly further down the bench.

“Yeah, and how do you suggest I do that? The last time I checked, he’s a giant who is untouchable. Even if I tried grinding against him, all he needed to do was put up his infinity.”

“You don’t have to grind on him to tease him. I’m a lesbian, and even I know that.”

“Then what do I do?”

Shoko put her cigarette out before gently grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the teacher's lounge. “We just need to make a quick stop at the kitchen.”

Gojo sighed as he watched the first-years brawl with the second-years. This was far less entertaining than teasing you had been. Seeing your pretty skin flush before you sighed in annoyance was his fuel for the day. Teasing you was just too easy. But he fully intended to make all the teasing worthwhile once you got home.

He just wanted to go as fast as he could to get back to said teasing. “Hey.” Never mind the waiting; it seemed as though some other almighty power had answered his prayers. You had been summoned near his side, practically begging to be teased! You were like a moth to the glowing flame that was his stature.

“Hey sweetie, what do you say we blow this popsicle stand and head to the sh-h-he—!!”

Gojo’s flawless Ivory skin flushed a crimson red when he turned his attention to you. Your pretty lips were sealed around a popsicle, sucking it as if it was his dick. Cheeks were hollowed, and your eyes narrowed as you watched his lips quiver under the shock of seeing you in such a promiscuous state. Once you were sure his attention was focused solely on you, your head began bobbing, taking more of (him) the popsicle into your mouth with a fucking moan. That sound alone should be reserved for him and his dick only, not some popsicle. Why the fuck was he getting insanely jealous over a sweet?!

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Cooling off?” You say, finally pulling off the cream-colored icy treat

Satoru scoffed, shifting his weight from one leg to the other to distract himself from his tightening pants. But nothing truly seemed to help because all he could focus on was how pretty your lips looked wrapped around your frozen popsicle. While he was suffering, you reveled in the satisfaction and the sweet taste of revenge.

“Baby, come on, don’t do this to me.” He complained, watching you take the whole length into your mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh?” You swirl your tongue around the tip. “You’re sorry?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry for what, Toru?” You asked, popping the popsicle back into your mouth

“I’m sorry for teasing you, okay?!”

Your lips together, humming thoughtfully as you tapped your index finger against your chin. “I guess you seem like you mean it.” Satoru nodded, fluffy tufts of white hair moving with his every move. “But that still doesn’t make what you did right, so no, I won’t stop.” Your boyfriend let out a pained moan as you returned to enjoying your frozen treat.

“Sweetie, please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” Your cheeks hollowed as you suck the tip hard.

“Yes, anything!”

You hummed again, pulling off the tip. “You’re going to let me ride you tonight. And I will edge until I see tears in those blue eyes.”

Gojo scoffed, bending down slightly and getting in your face. “You say that as if it’s a punishment.” You focused on his blindfold as you pulled off the popsicle.

“Wanna bet?”

“Oh, please, like you riding me is a punish—” For an instant, Gojo waited, thinking that maybe you were going to have some smart retort to shoot back at him. But instead, you bit the tip of the popsicle off with your teeth with an aggressive snarl.

With pure satisfaction, you watched your boyfriend's hands shoot down his crotch. Where he covered his now soft cock. His jaw went slack as eyebrows twitched from underneath his blindfold, clearly pained by your actions. You smiled before patting him on the shoulder and turning to walk back towards the school with a sway in your hips. One that generally left him eager to get home, but this time, it sent pinpricks down his spine.

“Can’t wait to get home and teach you a thing or two!”

While the strongest sorcerer of the modern age watched, you saunter off. He was beginning to realize just how badly he had fucked up. And he was not looking forward to what you had planned for him. Okay, maybe he was a little excited.

Geto Suguru:

It wasn’t your fault. You had done nothing to deserve the sex ban your boyfriend had put you on. You may have fallen through a second-story window after purposely ignoring his warnings. And it may have been a fall that had resulted in you needing twenty stitches, but that didn’t mean he needed to withhold sex from you.

Normally when shit like this happened, the outcome either resulted and you were getting lectured or getting spanked, which wasn’t ordinarily bad at all. But seeing that this was your fifth injury in three weeks, Suguru decided to take a different approach to teach you a lesson, and it was a lesson that was working, much to your dismay.

This punishment was beginning to eat you alive.

You could live without sex for a week, but two weeks should be considered torture. To make matters worse, any attempts you had made to push Suguru to break the stupid ban himself had gone unnoticed, unbothered, and irritated you beyond all means. You were utterly desperate to get dick down by your fantastic boyfriend, but you still had another four days to go before the ban was up.

But desperate times called for desperate measures.

You hummed as you stood at the end of an alley, looking back at your boyfriend, who used his curse technique on the curse you had been fighting into a ball. Suguru rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead, wiping away the sweat that coated his brow. It was a hot one in downtown Tokyo, but you had the perfect way to cool off! One that was sure to ignite the flames of passion deep inside Suguru’s chest.

“Okay,” Suguru said softly as walking towards the entrance of the alley where you were waiting for him, “I just need to swallow, and then we can get back to Jujutsu High. I was thinking maybe we could—” your boyfriend, paused, looking up from the cursed spirit in his palm, watching as you slowly run your tongue along the underside of a popsicle. “When did you have time to grab that?”

“Right when you started working your magic!” Your tongue stained a fluorescent red as the taste of cherry washed over your taste buds. “This cute little shop had them right by the door! Works out perfectly in that summertime Tokyo heat.”

Suguru hummed, eyeing the curse sphere in his hand, bracing himself for what he knew he had to do next. “Would you mind—” he stopped talking as you pushed yourself off the wall, turning to stand before him. You sucked on the cherry popsicle as if it were your boyfriend’s cock. Your cheeks bobbing your head over the sweet, tangy treat, all while maintaining eye contact with your boyfriend. “Princess.”

“Ah~!” you moaned out happily, popping your mouth off the tip of the popsicle. You made sure to lick your lips ever so slowly, hoping they were slightly swollen with all the sucking you had done. “Yes, Suguru~?”

This was it. He would finally break after all of your efforts in the three days! You couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say! Maybe it would be, ‘I can't take this any longer. I need to feel you!’ Or better yet, he might not say anything at all! He might drag you down the dark and take you right there against the brick wall. It would be an adrenaline rush with the prospect of getting caught doing some naughty things in public!

You could feel yourself vibrating with excitement and need. A look that didn’t go unnoticed by your incredibly observant boyfriend. He could see the way that you were pressing your thighs together. Your lips slightly parted at the sound of his voice. And the telltale sign was the fact that your eyes so bluntly focused on his crotch as if you were willing him to get erect. It was almost cute seeing you so eager.

“Make sure there’s no one coming.” The disappointment that flashed across your features like lightning was as clear as a crystal lake. “Go on.”

Your eyebrow twitched with visible anger, and you practically stormed to the end of the alley, looking both ways and ensuring no pedestrians were walking by. “It’s clear.” There was a sour tone to your voice, fully capable of cuddling milk.

“Thank you, darling,” Suguru responded before tilting his head back and popping the curse into his mouth.

The horrendous taste of a rag that was used to wipe up vomit coated his tongue before he was able to swallow the curse down. Once he absorbed the curse, he focused his attention on you to draw away from the horrendous taste that coated his mouth like a film. He usually found himself drawn towards you after he swallowed a curse. You were his anchor, in a way—something to ground himself to without losing himself in the disgusting taste that would drive anyone mad.

Typically, when his dark eyes met yours, he was met with a warm and gentle smile. Only this time, he was met with the burning, lustful gaze as you practically deep-throated a popsicle. Seeing you suck on it before hadn’t been all that distracting, but now that you were getting into it, it was a different story. Your eyes had a far-off gaze as you focused on him. Your head moved up and down over the popsicle, coding it in your saliva as you sucked on it hard.

Seeing you in such a state left Suguru swallowing harder than he had when he swallowed the curse. With each inch you took further into your mouth, you could see a flicker of need in his eyes. This was it—your boyfriend‘s breaking point. Suguru was going to be the one to crash; he was going to be the one to break his ban!

In the blink of an eye, Suguru snarled, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you deeper down the alley. The sudden jerky movement caused you to drop your popsicle, tumbling to the ground and breaking into several uneven pieces. But you didn’t give a fuck about the popsicle! You were more eager to get to be with your boyfriend again finally!

Suguru grabbed both your wrists, pinning them above your head. His lips met yours in a crash of pure, unfiltered need. The man didn’t even give you a chance to fully understand what was happening or try to match his pace. One, his lips were slanted against yours, and the next, he was showing his tongue into your mouth without even asking for permission by the tip of his tongue slowly over your bottom lip. You moaned, eyes fluttering shut as you kissed him back, his knee darting between your legs, pressing up against your clothed core.

He pulled away for a moment before slamming his lips back against yours, nearly causing your teeth to clash against each other.his tongue, massage yours, wrapping around the muscle, as you found yourself melting against him, hips, slowly, moving as the taste of cherry slowly enveloped his mouth. His feverish kisses began to cool down as your hips slowly began rocking against his thigh, eager For what else he had to offer you in his alleyway.

But as quickly as the kiss came, it ended. He pulled away, panting heavily as he released his grip on your wrists. You fell forward against his chest, gripping his jacket for support as he removed his knee from between your legs. You were shaking slightly at the arousal that burned through your veins like boiling water. Peering up at your boyfriend, you watched as he licked at the smeared cherry syrup on his lips.

“S-Sugu—what was?!”

“I just had to get the taste of the curse out of my mouth. And since you were so rudely didn’t even offer to get me a popsicle, I decided to make do with what I had. It’s not like Satoru is around to offer me candy. So I decided to taste your popsicle firsthand.”

You felt as though the world was crashing down on you. “I-I—!” Suguru shut his eyes as he tilted his head to the side, smiling softly, which was sinister with what he had just done to you.

“Did you honestly think that was going to break me? Oh, my sweet Princess, you’d have to do a lot more than that.” he wrapped his arm around your waist, leading you down the alleyway back to the bustling streets. “You have four days to go, then we can make up for lost time. But by all means, keep up your technique by sucking more popsicles, it may not break me, but I do enjoy the sight of you sucking on it.”

Needless to say you had learned your lesson. You found that out by yourself right then there, standing in an alley after being twat-blocked your boyfriend who was right. You needed to be more careful on your missions, and you definitely would be more careful from now on. Because your boyfriend was not going to ever break a sex ban.

Nanami Kento:

It was hot, and you felt even hotter in every part of your body. You were sitting on your porch watching your husband mow the grass in your backyard. You had offered to do it earlier this week, but he insisted on taking care of it because of how hot it was. The last thing he wanted was for his beautiful wife to get overheated and possibly suffer the consequences of heat stroke.

At first, you weren’t sure if you were insulted or relieved by his request. You wanted to help with the yard work; you had no problem doing that. But Nanami made you a deal: if you did the laundry, he would ensure the yardwork was done, which didn’t seem that fair of a deal to you. Your washing machine and dryer were inside the comfort of your air-conditioned house while your husband was stuck outside in the heat doing yard work.

After you finished the laundry, you changed into a pair of booty shorts and a tank top, fully motivated to get outside and help him finish the yardwork so the two of you could shower and relax for the evening. But the second Nanami spotted you walking down the steps of the porch, heading towards him, he stopped what he was doing and pointed to the chair that was under the shade.

“My love, it’s too hot for you to be out here. I'm almost done. Take a seat. I can handle it.”

“Kento, if you stop being so stubborn, we could get it done faster!” you pleaded with your husband, crossing your arms over your chest.“Just let me help you with weeding the garden!”

Your husband turned the lawnmower off, using the short brake to wipe the sweat Office face with his dirty shirt. “Sweetpea, I already finished picking the weeds; I watered all the plants; all I need to do now is just mow the lawn. So please take a seat and relax. It won’t take me very long.” You wanted to argue with him to tell him that he was being asinine about the whole situation; that stubborn look in his eyes, however, told you there was no persuading him to stop.

With a side of defeat, you back up the stairs of the porch, flopping your ass down in the lounge chair, looking out at him. Nanami smiled, readjusting his baseball hat with a wink before turning the lawn mower back on. Your husband often called you stubborn, but perhaps he needed to take the time to look in the mirror because he was just as stubborn, if not more stubborn than you.

Was it that bad that you wanted to help him out? It wasn’t as though you were some fragile flower incapable of doing yardwork. If you weren't so angry, you would’ve been able to take the time to enjoy the view in front of you. Your sweaty husband roamed around the yard, ensuring it was pristine. Sweat ran down his neck, biceps, and face, making him look as though he was some sort of Greek god.

But he was being childish at the current moment.

Clearly, trying to be an adult and offer your assistance to him wasn’t going to help, and talking to him about trying to persuade him to let you help wasn’t going to work either. There wasn’t much more you could do. Once your husband has made a decision, he typically sticks with it.

But there was one thing even the Nanami Kento couldn't resist on a hot day like this! You hopped out of your chair and rushed back into the house, heading straight for the freezer. You snickered to yourself as you pulled out your secret weapon before returning to the backyard.

Nanami had just turned the lawnmower off again and moved to discard the lawn clippings in the trash bag. He fully set it off to the side, intending to add it to the other compost by the shed you used for your flowers. Sweat ran down his chiseled cheeks, and he was looking forward to getting this done so he could take a very long shower with you. But just as he was about to connect the basket back to the lawnmower, he looked up at you and dropped it to the ground.

You were sitting back in the lounge chair, legs propped up on the porch railing, as you slowly licked around the frozen treat in the waffle cone in your hand. You are pretty tongue-lapped at your favorite frozen flavor, your eyes transfixed on him as you swirled your tongue expertly around the tip of the treat. Watching you do something so lewd on a dessert had Nanami swallowing hard. He suddenly found his basketball shorts were way too tight for comfort.

You had not intended for it to be like this. Your mind was nowhere even close to being in the gutter. Instead, your intentions were innocent. In the long run, your plan had been to entice him with ice cream to take a break in the shade with you. Maybe once he got out of the blazing heat, you would be able to convince him to allow you to help him. Your poor husband thought you were doing something completely different; fortunately, it worked.

His eyes were towards the grass that was cut evenly, aside from the small patches near the back wall that were practically unnoticeable to anyone who didn’t know the yard like you or Kento did; it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if he didn’t mow it just this once. The lawn society would come and arrest him for missing a minuscule part of the lawn. Besides, it was too damn hot to be out in the yard working in heat like this. Not when you sat on the porch looking at him with narrowed eyes as you lapped seductively at your treat.

A look you hadn’t realized you had even been giving the man. Your intentions had been pure. So you knew you had won when you watched Nanami quickly move across the yard, picking up his yard tools and throwing them in the shed without a care in the world. You silently fist-pumped the aias. Nanami came bounding across the yard with a purpose. There was a look in those honey-brown eyes as he ran up the stairs.

“How sweet of you to join m—mmphm!”

Your frozen dessert falls onto your lap as Nanami tosses his baseball cap off to the side, his hands gripping your face as he kisses you deeply. Your eyes rolled back, your mind completely ignoring the fact that your frozen treat was melting in your lap. All your brain could focus on was kissing Nanami back; everything else fizzled into the background as he lifted you out of the chair, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Mhmm—my love.” the moan that left Nanami’s mouth caused the little hairs on your arms to stand as goosebumps rose. “If you wanted me, all you had to do was ask.”

“H-Huh—?” you drunkenly asked as he opened the backdoor, expertly shutting and locking it as his lips moved over your neck. He chucked warm and deep, his face buried in your neck.

You inhaled sharply, whimpering as his teeth grazed over your pulse. “If you wanted me to ravish you this badly, all you needed to do was say so instead of teasing me.” Your mind raced as you suddenly became aware of what he had been talking about.

The ice cream. Your intention to innocently persuade him to join you on the porch to cool off had been misconstrued as a beg for him to stop what he was doing so you could suck him off, maybe even do more. So, the way you saw it, you had two options. Be honest with your husband and tell him you just wanted the home to cool off on the porch as a ploy to convince him to let you help with the yard. Or, go with what he was saying and have steamy, hot shower sex.

“Oh shoot! You caught me! Here, I thought I was being so aloof with my plans!”

Your husband kicks the door to your bedroom open, heading into the bathroom. “Luckily for me, I can read you like a book.” Your fingers run through his slightly damp, sweat-ridden hair, scratching at the undercut as you pull yourself in and kiss him deeply.

“That you do.”

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU)

The door to the apartment flew open, and you snarled, eyes searching for any sign of your boyfriend. “Kuna!” screamed at the top of your lungs. There was no response, but that didn’t stop you from searching the empty apartment for your teasing boyfriend.

Intentions of making him pay for the relentless teasing he had put you through your workday. It started as an innocent text that said good morning and to have a good day. That innocent message progressed to him saying he missed you, followed by a picture of him lying in bed, his ripped abdomen muscles on full display. The photo in itself is something you were used to, but the images that followed were out of nowhere.

Pictures of his bulge in his basketball shorts came up on your screen. With each picture that showed up, they became more scandalous. The bulge turned into photos of him, groping himself through his pants, the erection clearest day to shots of his tattooed, happy trail all the way up to the base of his cock. Your face flushed as you shielded your phone from the prying eyes of your coworkers. You texted him to knock it off, but that was not easily persuaded. He did what he wanted, and he didn’t give a fuck.

Those scandalous photos turned into Voice Memos that had your panties soaked and your lip raw from how hard you bid it to hold the back whimpers. The man was torturing you, and you had planned to make him suffer as much as he had made you. But now that you were finally off the clock, in the safety of your own home, and the bastard was nowhere to be found!? Typical teasing dick move.

You stormed into the kitchen, searching for something to distract yourself with. Finding a popsicle in the freezer, you unwrapped it just as the front door opened and shut. In a second, you watched as your boyfriend around the corner, dropping his keys on the counter.

“Kitten!” shouted around with hungry desire. “I'm home!”

“Hm.” Instead of responding with the normally warm, enthusiastic welcome, he was greeted with the coldness of a winter storm.

“Oh, don't hm me. What do you say I ma—” His words traveled off as he fixed his gaze on you, witnessing you pushing the pink popsicle into your mouth, sucking on the tip as he blinked before focusing on you.

Teasing wasn’t as fun now that he was the one on the receiving end of it. That’s what you thought. You had been eager to watch his face contort with need. Longing to make him suffer the same way he had made you suffer throughout the entirety of your day. Shortly as you found yourself lost in thoughts, you were met with the dark, almost void look in his crimson eyes.

That almost emotionless look in his eyes, and he didn’t seem bothered by your actions. Instead, you’ve leaned further over the counter, not breaking the eye contact. There was a lot you had been expecting your boyfriend to do in response to your teasing. So you continued to deep-throat the icy treat. But when Soukouna reached into the fruit bowl on the counter, picking up a peach, your eyebrows twitched as you tried to figure out what he intended to do.

A split second passed before Sukuna reached for the knife block. He pulled out the pairing knife, still maintaining icon contact. You walked, and your boyfriend sliced into the fruit. Its sweet juices beat against the fuzzy skin. The second peach was split in half. Sukuna grabbed the pit of the peach, throwing it into the sink.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, continuing to suck on the popsicle in a very messy manner. Was he seriously going to sit there and eat a peach without saying anything? Before you could even continue to question his intentions, you came to the shocking realization that he wasn’t going to eat the peach.

Your big buff boyfriend leaned over the counter himself, holding the peach in one hand while the other gripped the counter with his other. You watched as his pierced tongue slid out of his mouth slowly, lapping at the inside of the peach; in a way, he typically ate you out. He ran his piercing over the indent of the peach where Sukuna re the tip of the pit was, where your clit would be. He ran his tongue over that spot over and over before his tongue slid back down, lapping over the juicy peach.

Watching him lapping at the peach in such a seductive manner made you choke at first. Your boyfriend snickered as he kept his burning gaze focused solely on you. What the fuck? Why was this so erotic?! Watching him eating out a peach, you were suddenly jealous.

“What’s wrong, Kitten?” He purred out cocking an eyebrow. The juices from the peach smeared over his mouth as he pulled away. “You can dish it out but can’t take it?”

“Mhmm~!” You hummed out aggressively, swirling your tongue over the top of the popsicle. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You whispered, running the tip of your tongue over what you pretended was the slit of your boyfriend's cock.

“Ah, okay, I see. You can pretend you’re not imagining that popsicle as my thick cock, but I’m pretending this.” He held the peach up. “Is your sweet cunt.”

His words sent fire to pool in your abdomen. “O-oh yeah?” You questioned as if you didn’t know that’s what he was doing.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t compare to you.” He growled as he flicked his tongue over the peach. “You’re so much wetter, sweeter, and make the prettiest sounds. I’d much rather bury my head between your thighs.”

“Yet you’re still licking the peach.”

“And you're still deepthroating a fucking popsicle.”

You weren’t going to break down first! You refused to when he had started the teasing this morning while you were at work. Even if the popsicle melted you had a freezer full of them to continue this stupid game.

“Mmm~haaah~” Sukuna moaned softly, flicking his tongue over the peach in strategic swipes, ones you were familiar with. “S,” Sukuna hummed before you watched his tongue quickly dip down, “U,” the pink tongue darted down before two quick flicks followed, “K—”

You were a liar.

You threw the popsicle to the floor before snatching the peach away from your boyfriend and throwing it into the sink. Your boyfriend's smirk didn’t even have a chance to tug at the corner of his mouth as you yanked him closer to you by the straps of his tank top. Not expecting you to falter so quickly, Sukuna barely had time to process what was happening before he was dragged around the kitchen island, where your lips slammed against his.

All cocky attitudes joined the discarded peach pit in the sink as you both threw yourselves at each other. The sweet, sticky taste of peaches and strawberries collapsed in a kaleidoscope of flavors as your tongues massaged each other as you fell to the tile floor, wrapping your limbs around your boyfriend. Clothes were tugged off, and belts were unbuckled before moans flooded the apartment, and neither of you intended to stop until you were a sticky, sweaty mess.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

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the-winter-spider · 27 days ago

Text

Under Pressure | two

Bucky x reader Modern AU

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: Depression, Angst, mentions of su!cide

Part One

The days after Bucky left blurred together in a suffocating haze. Time had lost all meaning; the hours stretched endlessly, bleeding into each other until they were indistinguishable. Morning, afternoon, evening—it didn’t matter. You existed more than you lived, moving through the motions like a robot.

You told yourself you needed to get up, to move, to do something. So you tried. God, you tried. You Googled solutions like your life depended on it. “How to deal with depression alone,” “How to stop feeling numb,” “Ways to make life better.”

Meditation was the first thing you found, so you gave it a shot. You sat cross-legged on the living room floor, your back straight, your hands resting on your knees. The world around you was quiet—too quiet. Closing your eyes, you tried to focus on your breathing, in and out, in and out, just like the video said. But every inhale felt shallow, every exhale jagged. The silence wasn’t calming. It only made the noise in your head louder: This is pointless. You’re pointless. Nothing will ever change.

Next came exercise. You dragged yourself into old workout clothes that felt too loose, the fabric hanging from your frame. You stood in the middle of your apartment, pacing back and forth, trying to summon the energy to do something—anything. You managed a few jumping jacks, then collapsed onto the couch, your chest heaving, not from exertion but from the weight pressing down on you. Your body felt heavy, leaden, like gravity had increased just for you.

You lay there staring at the ceiling, hot tears slipping down your temples and pooling in your ears. You wanted to scream, to cry out for help, but your voice felt stuck somewhere deep inside you.

The darkness, though—that was always there. It wasn’t loud or forceful. It was subtle, enticing, warm in its own terrible way. It wrapped around you like a blanket, whispering promises of relief. Promises of escape. You don’t have to do this. You can stop anytime you want.

You hated it. But at the same time, you couldn’t fight it. You couldn’t resist the way it pulled you under, like quicksand swallowing you whole.

While you fought your battle alone, Bucky fought his own war just outside your door.

He’d lingered there more than once, standing in the hallway of your building with his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. The cold, sterile light of the hallway flickered above him, buzzing faintly. He told himself he shouldn’t be there. You’d made it clear that you wanted him to leave you alone. But he couldn’t stay away.

The weight of your words still clung to him, suffocating and relentless. He replayed that night over and over in his head: the way you’d yelled at him to go, the pain and anger in your voice, the way you’d looked so small as you stood there, refusing to let him in.

It broke him in ways he hadn’t expected. Because the last thing he ever wanted was to leave you feeling alone—or to actually leave you alone.

Once, he’d heard movement from inside: the scrape of a chair, the faint hum of a shower running. For a brief moment, relief flooded through him. He’d exhaled shakily, telling himself you were okay. But by the time he got back to his own apartment, doubt had crept in. What if you weren’t okay? What if the sound was just you existing, not living?

He couldn’t stop thinking about the people who were supposed to be there for you. Your parents. The ones who should have loved you unconditionally, who should have made you feel safe and valued. He hated them for failing you so profoundly. For being absent, for neglecting you, for leaving wounds so deep they may never fully heal.

He wanted to march up to them and scream. Tell them how deeply, endlessly wrong they were to let you believe you were anything less than extraordinary. To let you think, even for a moment, that you weren’t enough.

And then there was you. God, he wanted to tell you the same thing. He wanted to hold you, to wrap you in his arms and take all the sadness, all the pain, and carry it himself if it meant you could finally feel free. He wanted to tell you that you were everything. That the world was brighter, warmer, better just because you were in it.

But he didn’t. Because he’d promised to give you space. Because he was afraid that if he came back too soon, he’d only make things worse. And because part of him—an ugly, self-loathing part—felt like he’d already failed you the moment he walked out that door.

Still, staying away was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to go back, to fix it, to make you see what he saw. But he lingered outside your door instead, waiting. Hoping.

Bucky clenched his fists, his chest tight as he leaned against the wall outside your apartment. He dared to care. He dared to love. But he wasn’t sure if it would ever be enough.

Cause love's such an old fashioned word

---

The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the beachside restaurant. The waves lapped gently at the shore, the sound rhythmic and soothing against the soft murmur of conversation. String lights crisscrossed above the outdoor tables, their soft twinkle mirrored by the first stars peeking out of the darkening sky.

Natasha leaned back in her chair, a rare moment of unguarded laughter spilling from her lips as she sipped her drink. The cocktail glass glinted in the light, and her eyes crinkled at the corners—a look of pure, unfiltered joy. She had no idea what was coming, no idea that tonight was about to become one of the most important moments of her life.

Across the table, Steve shifted nervously in his seat, his hand brushing the small velvet box hidden in his pocket. His palms were damp, his throat dry, but when he glanced at Natasha, his nerves melted away. She looked so happy, so carefree, her face glowing in the warm light.

He cleared his throat, his chair scraping slightly against the wooden deck as he stood. The table fell silent, all eyes turning to him. “Natasha,” he began, his voice shaky but filled with determination, “you’ve been my rock since the day I met you. You’ve seen me at my best, my worst, and everything in between. And somehow, you’ve stayed by my side through it all.”

Natasha tilted her head, her brows furrowing in confusion, but a soft smile tugged at her lips as she watched him.

“I never thought I’d get so lucky,” Steve continued, his words steadying as his confidence grew. “Lucky enough to find someone as strong, as smart, as absolutely incredible as you. I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.”

As he spoke, his hand slipped into his pocket. When he pulled out the small velvet box and opened it, revealing a glittering diamond ring, Natasha’s hand flew to her mouth.

Gasps rippled through the small group seated at the table, and Natasha’s eyes widened, filling with tears as Steve sank to one knee in front of her.

“Natasha Romanoff,” he said, his smile soft and full of love, “will you marry me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Natasha’s lips trembled as she tried to speak, her hand still covering her mouth. Tears spilled over her cheeks, and she nodded vigorously, her voice breaking as she finally choked out, “Yes. Yes, of course!”

Cheers erupted from the table, applause filling the air as Steve slid the ring onto her finger and stood, pulling her into his arms. Natasha laughed through her tears, clinging to him like she never wanted to let go.

From behind the bushes near the edge of the patio, Bucky and Sam emerged, grinning like proud parents as they joined the group. They weren’t alone—several of Natasha’s coworkers had been waiting for the signal as well, and together they swarmed the table, their cheers and congratulations echoing under the string lights.

Bucky clapped Steve on the back, his grin wide as he said, “About time, Rogers. Thought you were gonna chicken out.”

Steve chuckled, his arm still firmly around Natasha. “Not a chance.”

Sam raised his glass. “To Steve and Nat—the only two people who could make the rest of us look like amateurs at this whole ‘love’ thing.”

The group laughed and raised their glasses, the sound of clinking glass filling the air.

But amidst the laughter and celebration, Natasha’s happiness faltered. Her eyes scanned the group, her smile fading slightly as she looked around. She was searching for someone. And she didn’t see them.

Her gaze landed on Bucky, and her expression shifted to one of quiet frustration. “She’s not here, is she?” she asked softly.

Bucky’s smile faded, and he shook his head, his shoulders sagging slightly. “No. I haven’t seen her.”

Natasha pressed her lips into a thin line, turning to Steve. “You told her, didn’t you? You texted her?”

Steve’s smile slipped into something more serious. “I texted her,” he said. “Left her a voicemail. Even went to her apartment.” He paused, his tone heavy. “But… nothing. She didn’t respond.”

Sam stepped closer, placing a hand on Natasha’s shoulder. “Don’t dwell on it, Nat,” he said gently. “You know how she gets. She just needs time. She’ll be okay. She’s done this before.”

“I know she’s done this before,” Natasha snapped, her voice sharp but tinged with hurt. “I know. But friends are supposed to be happy with you. She should be here.” Her voice cracked, and she looked down at the ring on her finger, her tears threatening to fall again. “If it were her…” She swallowed hard. “If she were getting engaged, I’d drop everything. Just to be there for her.”

Steve stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. “Don’t hold it against her,” he murmured. “You don’t know what’s going on in her head. It’s not about you. It’s about whatever she’s fighting.”

Natasha let out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Anyway,” she muttered, her voice clipped as she wiped her tears and forced a smile. “We’re celebrating, right?”

Steve kissed her temple, his smile soft but understanding. “That’s right. Let’s get another round,” he said, raising his glass.

The group cheered again, their voices loud and bright as they toasted the newly engaged couple. But even as Natasha laughed and smiled, her eyes lingered on the horizon, a shadow of worry flickering behind her joy.

Bucky stood nearby, his drink untouched. He caught Natasha’s glance and gave her a small, apologetic nod. He knew what she was feeling—because he felt it too.

As the party carried on around them, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

And love dares you to care for the people at the edge of the night

---

The high school was alive with energy. The halls buzzed with the usual pre-game excitement: students laughing and shouting, their faces painted with team colors, and jerseys swishing as they ran through the corridors. The air was electric, full of youthful adrenaline and anticipation.

But Bucky wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t swept up in the contagious thrill of game day.

He was pacing.

His boots scuffed against the linoleum as he moved back and forth, his jaw tight and his hands shaking slightly. His helmet dangled loosely in one hand, forgotten, while his other raked through his hair for the hundredth time.

“Man, relax,” Sam said, leaning casually against a locker with his arms crossed, his usual grin in place. “Maybe she’s just sick. People miss school all the time.”

Bucky froze mid-step, turning sharply to face Sam. “You don’t understand,” he snapped, his voice low but tense, like a wire about to snap.

Sam’s grin faltered, and he pushed off the locker, his posture straightening. “Then make me understand,” he said, his tone softer now.

Steve, standing nearby, frowned as he adjusted his jersey. “What’s going on, Buck? She’ll be back tomorrow, right?”

Bucky let out a shaky breath, running his hand down his face. His chest felt too tight, like it couldn’t expand fully, like every breath was a struggle. He glanced around the hall, making sure no one was paying attention, before lowering his voice.

“She’s not just sick, okay?” he said, his tone urgent. His eyes darted between Sam and Steve, desperate for them to get it. “She gets… sad. Not normal sad. It’s different. She told me…” His voice caught, his throat tightening. “She told me she has depression. Real, bad depression.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “And sometimes it gets so bad…” He paused again, his voice cracking. “She told me she doesn’t wanna be alive anymore.”

The air around them seemed to still. Sam’s eyes widened, his easy going demeanor evaporating in an instant. “Oh, shit,” he muttered, the words barely audible. “She's only 17..”

Steve’s face darkened, his brows furrowing deeply as the weight of Bucky’s words sank in. “How bad, Buck?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Bucky admitted, his voice trembling now. “I haven’t heard from her since Tuesday. That’s three days. She always texts me back, always. Even if it’s just a stupid thumbs-up.” He shook his head, his movements restless. “Something’s wrong. I know it.”

Steve stepped forward, his hand landing firmly on Bucky’s shoulder. “Go,” he said simply.

“What?” Bucky asked, blinking at him in disbelief.

“Go to her,” Steve repeated, his tone steady and commanding. “We’ll cover for you. We can win one game without you. If anyone asks, I’ll say you had to run home for something. Just go. It’s Y/N.”

Bucky hesitated for only a second, his hand tightening around his helmet. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice cracking with uncertainty.

“Of course,” Steve said, his voice softening. “It’s her. Just go.”

Bucky didn’t need to be told again. He ripped off his gear, tossing it onto the bench as he turned and sprinted down the hallway. His heart pounded in his chest as he pushed through the school doors and into the cold evening air, the sounds of cheers and chants fading behind him.

By the time he reached your house, his lungs burned, and his legs ached from running, but he didn’t care. He didn’t even pause to catch his breath as he climbed the porch steps, his hand closing around the doorknob. It turned easily.

Unlocked. Of course.

The house was dark, silent except for the faint hum of the fridge. The emptiness pressed against him like a weight.

“Y/N?” he called, his voice echoing in the stillness.

No response.

“Y/N!” he shouted again, his voice cracking with panic as he moved through the house. He checked your bedroom first, his eyes scanning the unmade bed and the dimly lit corners. Nothing.

He flung open the bathroom door. Empty.

Then he felt it—a faint breeze brushing past him, carrying the smell of the night air. His stomach dropped as he turned toward your parents’ room, the door slightly ajar.

“Shit,” he whispered, his breath catching in his throat as he stepped forward, pushing the door open.

There you were.

Standing on the railing of the balcony, your arms outstretched slightly as the wind whipped around you. The sight hit him like a physical blow, his vision narrowing as fear gripped him.

“Sweet girl,” he said softly, his voice trembling as he stepped onto the balcony.

You didn’t turn around. You let out a sad laugh instead, the sound hollow and brittle. “You always call me the sweetest names, Bucky.”

He swallowed hard, his throat dry and tight. “That’s because you’re my best girl,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “And you deserve the best. You hear me?”

You tilted your head slightly, your gaze fixed on the horizon. “Why do I feel like this all the time?”

He took another cautious step forward, his hand hovering near your ankle, ready to grab you at the slightest movement. “I don’t know, angel,” he said gently, his voice filled with desperation. “But I’d do anything to help you. Anything. I just need you to get down, okay? Please.”

You turned your head slightly to look at him, your glassy eyes meeting his. “I just don’t wanna feel like this anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the wind.

A sudden gust of wind made you sway, and Bucky’s heart stopped.

“NO!” he shouted, surging forward and grabbing the back of your shirt. He yanked you toward him with all the strength he could muster, pulling you off the railing and onto the balcony floor.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his voice shaking as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. One hand pressed to the back of your head, the other gripping your shoulder as though letting go wasn’t an option.

You broke down, your sobs wracking your body as you clung to him. His lips pressed against the top of your head over and over, his voice soft and pleading. “Please don’t do that again,” he whispered, his own tears slipping down his cheeks. “Please. I can’t lose you. I never wanna know what it feels like to lose you. Promise me, sweet girl. Promise me you won’t.”

Your voice was muffled against his chest, but you managed to choke out, “Okay.”

“Promise me,” he repeated, pulling back just enough to look into your tear-streaked face.

“I promise,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He nodded, relief flooding his features as he pulled you close again, holding you like you were the most fragile, precious thing in the world.

Because to him, you were.

And for the rest of the night, he didn’t let go.

And love dares you to change our ways of caring about ourselves

----

The pounding on your door shattered the suffocating silence of your apartment. It echoed like a gunshot, jarring and relentless. Natasha’s voice followed immediately, sharp and furious, cutting through the air like a blade.

“Y/N, open the door!” she demanded, her tone full of anger and something else—hurt. “I know you’re in there. You’re always in there.”

You didn’t move. You stood frozen on the other side, your back pressed against the door, your breath shallow and uneven. Your eyes were glued to the blank, lifeless living room in front of you, the dim light casting long, eerie shadows across the walls.

“Don’t ignore me!” Natasha’s voice rose, her words pounding against your chest like the fists she was slamming against the door. “You don’t get to just hide! Not this time!”

Your fingers clutched the edge of your hoodie, trembling as tears pricked at your eyes. Her words were like bullets, each one hitting harder than the last, shattering the fragile shell you’d built around yourself.

“I can’t believe you,” she snapped, her voice cracking. “I thought we were best friends. I thought we were sisters. I thought I mattered to you.” Her voice wavered, trembling with emotion. “But no—you couldn’t even bother to show up. Not for me. Not for Steve. Not for any of us. Do you even care? Do you even care about anyone but yourself?”

The accusation tore through you like a blade. Your knees buckled slightly, but you didn’t fall. You stayed rooted in place, staring blankly ahead as hot tears began to fall, carving silent trails down your cheeks.

“Friends are supposed to be there for each other!” Natasha continued, her voice raw and desperate. “I would have dropped everything for you. I have dropped everything for you. But when it’s my turn, when I’m happy, you—” She broke off, her breath hitching.

You pressed your forehead against the cold wood of the door, biting your lip so hard it nearly bled. You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that you did care, that you cared so much it hurt. But the words wouldn’t come. They were stuck, tangled in the knot in your throat, suffocated by the weight of your guilt.

“Do you even know what that feels like, Y/N?” Natasha’s voice cracked, thick with tears. “To have someone you love not care enough to show up?”

Her words were a dagger, sinking deep into your chest. Your body shook with silent sobs, your hands gripping the fabric of your hoodie so tightly your knuckles ached.

Finally, her voice softened, the anger giving way to something far worse—disappointment. “You could’ve at least tried,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “I deserved that much.”

Her next words were barely a whisper, but they hit you like a hammer: “I don’t think I can do this anymore….be your friend.”

The silence that followed was deafening, suffocating. You heard her take a shaky breath, and then the sound of her footsteps retreating down the hall.

You stayed there, slumped against the door, the tears flowing freely now. Your body felt heavy, weighed down by the crushing guilt and the emptiness that seemed to expand inside you.

She was right. You should’ve been there. You should’ve tried.

But you didn’t.

The days that followed were a blur of silence and shame. Your phone buzzed constantly, the screen lighting up with messages and missed calls, each one a reminder of how deeply you’d failed them.

Sam: Hey, girl. Haven’t heard from you in a bit. You okay?

Sam: Look, I know you’re going through it, but you’re worrying me. At least text me back, yeah?

Sam: I miss you. We all do. Just… let me know you’re alive, okay?

The voicemails from Steve were harder to stomach.

“Hey, it’s Steve. Just checking in again. I, uh… I don’t know what to say that’ll make you answer me, but I hope you’re okay. Call me when you can.”

And then another, this time quieter, more hesitant. “Y/N. Please. We’re all worried. Just… let me know you’re okay.”

Sam again, his voice more urgent this time. “Y/N. Come on. Just one text. That’s all I’m asking for. We love you, okay? Don’t forget that.”

You listened to each one, your phone clutched tightly in your hands, tears streaming down your face. But you didn’t reply. You couldn’t. You didn’t deserve their worry, their care.

But it was Bucky’s name on your call list that haunted you the most.

Every night, you paced your apartment, your thumb hovering over his name, your chest tight with indecision. His name stared back at you, a lifeline you couldn’t bring yourself to grab.

You thought about his voice, the way he’d say your name like it was the most important thing in the world. You thought about the way he’d looked at you that night, his eyes filled with hurt and confusion as you yelled at him to leave.

You wanted to call him. God, you wanted to call him.

But every time your finger hovered over the call button, your breath hitched, and the doubts crept in. What if he didn’t answer? What if he was still angry? What if you dragged him down with you, and he finally realized you weren’t worth the effort?

So you didn’t.

Every night, you stood there with the phone in your hand, tears streaking your face, your breaths shaky and uneven. Every night, you almost called him.

But every night, you couldn’t.

And the silence grew heavier, the weight of it pressing down on you like it was trying to crush the little life you had left out of you.

This is our last dance

---

Bucky stood in front of his mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt for what felt like the hundredth time. His reflection stared back at him, but the man in the mirror didn’t feel like him. His hands trembled slightly as he fastened the last button, smoothing the fabric over his chest in a futile attempt to steady himself.

This felt wrong. All of it.

He turned to the dresser, where his phone sat just within reach. The screen was dark, but he could still feel the weight of your name sitting in his call list, just waiting. His fingers twitched with the urge to pick it up, to text you, to call you, to say he was sorry for walking out that night.

But he didn’t.

Because you’d been so hostile, so closed off. You’d shouted at him to leave, your voice breaking with pain and anger, and it had cut deeper than he wanted to admit. He knew you were hurting, but so was he. And as much as he hated himself for it, he hadn’t been strong enough to stay.

His thoughts drifted back to Natasha’s visit to your apartment earlier that week. She’d told him about it when they were sitting in Steve’s kitchen, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“I gave her an earful through the door,” Natasha had said, her voice tight with a mix of anger and sadness. “I told her I didn’t want to be friends anymore if she couldn’t be there for me during my brightest moments. I know she’s going through it, Buck, but this… this was too much.”

Bucky had sat stiffly in his chair, his jaw clenching as her words sunk in. “And what did she say?” he’d asked quietly.

“Nothing,” Natasha replied, her voice breaking slightly. “She didn’t say anything. Didn’t open the door, didn’t even acknowledge I was there.”

Bucky’s fists had tightened at his sides. He hadn’t said anything, but the anger bubbling beneath the surface wasn’t for you—it was for Natasha, for not understanding, for expecting more from you when you were barely holding yourself together. But he didn’t defend you either. He couldn’t. He didn’t know how.

That night, unable to stop himself, he’d gone to your apartment. He’d leaned against the wall outside your door for forty-five minutes, straining to hear anything—anything at all. When he finally heard the faint sound of footsteps, relief had coursed through him.

But it didn’t last.

The relief was fleeting, overshadowed by the same helplessness that had plagued him since the night he left. He wanted to knock, to call out your name, to beg you to let him in. He wanted to wrap you in his arms and tell you that everything would be okay, even if he wasn’t sure it would be.

But he didn’t. Because you’d shut him out so completely, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

Now, as he stood in his room, the weight of everything pressed down on him like a stone. He shouldn’t be doing this. Not now. Not with everything going on. But he’d already agreed to the date with Olivia, and canceling felt like admitting defeat.

A knock at the door pulled him from his spiraling thoughts.

He opened it to find Olivia standing there, smiling brightly in a simple dress and a leather jacket. Her blonde hair framed her face perfectly, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. She looked beautiful, and Bucky forced a smile in return, even as it felt hollow.

“Hey,” she said, her voice warm and cheerful. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” he said, grabbing his jacket and keys. He shut the door behind him, his mind still lingering on you as they walked down the hallway together.

The restaurant was cozy and dimly lit, the air filled with the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. Olivia had chosen the place, and it was perfect—intimate without feeling stuffy, charming without trying too hard.

She was kind, funny, and easy to talk to. She laughed at his jokes, asked him questions about his interests, and smiled at him like he was the only person in the room.

But to Bucky, it all felt wrong.

As Olivia talked about her childhood, Bucky’s mind wandered back to you. He thought about the way you’d laugh when you thought no one was listening, how it was soft and genuine and lit up a room in a way no one else’s could. He thought about the late-night conversations you’d shared over takeout, your voice quiet and full of trust as you let him see pieces of yourself that no one else did.

And then he thought about the last time he saw you. The way your voice cracked when you yelled at him to leave, the hurt and anger in your eyes. The way you’d looked so small, so fragile, as you stood there, refusing to let him help you.

“Bucky?”

Olivia’s voice pulled him back to the present. She was looking at him with a mix of curiosity and concern, her smile faltering slightly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, forcing a smile. “Sorry. Just… long week.”

She nodded, accepting the answer, but the concern in her eyes didn’t fade entirely.

Bucky felt a pang of guilt. Olivia didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve him sitting across from her, half-present, his heart and mind clearly somewhere else. She deserved someone who could look at her the way Steve looked at Natasha, who could give her all the attention and affection she deserved.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He couldn’t stop worrying about you.

And he couldn’t stop loving you.

As the date went on, he tried—he really did. He asked her questions, made jokes, even managed to laugh at a few of her stories. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts always circled back to you.

What were you doing right now? Were you okay? Were you eating? Sleeping? Or were you standing on that balcony again, the wind whipping around you like it had that night in high school?

“Bucky?” Olivia said again, pulling him from his thoughts for the second time that night.

He blinked, realizing he’d been staring at his untouched drink for far too long. “Sorry,” he said again, his voice quieter now.

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes this time. “It’s okay,” she said softly.

But it wasn’t.

And as much as he hated to admit it, Bucky knew this date wasn’t fair to her—or to himself.

This is our last dance.

---

The weight that had been pressing down on you for weeks finally collapsed in on itself, suffocating you, dragging you deeper into the endless darkness. You couldn’t see a way out, couldn’t imagine a future where you’d feel anything other than this crushing hopelessness. It was all-consuming, a void that devoured every thought, every breath.

Your apartment was cold and silent, the air thick with stillness, broken only by the shaky sound of your breathing. Desperate for something, anything to ground you, you reached for your phone and pressed play on the only song that had ever been able to reach you in moments like this.

The familiar melody of Under Pressure filled the room, echoing off the walls like a lifeline.

“Pressure, pushing down on me…”

You paced back and forth, the phone clutched tightly in your hand, tears streaming freely down your face. The lyrics sliced through you with every word, each note digging deeper into your already raw heart. This song had always made you feel lighter before, always brought a smile to your face when Bucky danced around the room, grabbing your hands and spinning you until you couldn’t help but laugh.

But tonight, it felt different.

You sank to your knees, your sobs growing louder as the music swelled, your chest heaving with the effort to keep breathing. You pressed the phone closer to your ear, as if Freddie Mercury and David Bowie’s voices could somehow pull you back from the edge.

The cold breeze from the balcony seeped through the glass door, brushing against your skin like a whisper. Your gaze drifted toward it, the sheer curtain fluttering softly in the wind.

For a moment, the thought crossed your mind.

It would be so easy.

But then, as if on instinct, you shook your head violently, your hands flying to your temples as if you could physically push the thought away.

No.

That can’t be it. You promised Bucky.

The broken promise hung over you like a specter as you stumbled to the bathroom, your legs shaky and unsteady beneath you. The light flickered when you flipped the switch, casting an eerie glow over the small space.

The broken mirror greeted you, jagged cracks splintering your reflection into a thousand fractured pieces. You stared at it, at the distorted, hollow version of yourself staring back. You didn’t recognize the person in the shards.

You opened the cabinet, your hands trembling as you reached for the bottle of antidepressants tucked away behind an old bottle of painkillers and a nearly empty tube of toothpaste. The bottle felt heavy in your palm, its weight somehow both grounding and terrifying.

You clutched it tightly, your breath coming in uneven gasps as you backed out of the bathroom and began pacing the apartment again.

The music continued to play, Freddie and Bowie’s voices swelling with the crescendo:

“Why can’t we give love, give love, give love…”

You couldn’t stop hearing Bucky’s voice, the way he’d always called you sweet girl, his tone soft and warm, like you were the most important thing in his world. You heard him as clearly as if he were standing beside you, his words from so long ago echoing in your mind:

“Promise me.”

Tears blurred your vision as you collapsed onto the couch, clutching the bottle in one hand and your phone in the other. The weight of the pills was unbearable, as if they were the physical manifestation of everything you couldn’t carry anymore.

Your thumb hovered over Bucky’s name in your call list.

You took a shaky breath, your hand trembling as you opened the pill bottle and poured a handful into your palm. The tiny capsules felt cold and smooth against your skin, the sharp contrast to the heat of your tears that dripped onto your hand. You swallowed.

Your other hand shook as you pressed Bucky’s name on your phone.

The line rang once. Twice. Each ring stretched out into eternity, the sound pounding against your chest like a heartbeat.

Finally, his voice came through, warm and familiar, but tinged with concern.

“Y/N?” he said, his tone rising slightly in alarm. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

You tried to speak, but the sobs came first, wracking your body as you pressed the phone to your ear like it was the only thing tethering you to the world.

You tried to speak, but the sobs came first, wracking your body as you held the phone to your ear. “Bucky,” you choked out finally, your voice barely a whisper.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said quickly, his tone steady but urgent.

You clutched the phone tighter “I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, the words breaking something inside you.

There was silence on the other end for a moment, and then his voice came through, strong and determined. “I’m coming over. Right now. Don’t move, okay? Just stay where you are, okay? I’ll be there in ten.”

This is ourselves

-------

Olivia was everything someone could ask for—funny, kind, and effortlessly charming. She told stories with vivid animation, her hands gesturing wildly as she laughed at her own jokes. But no matter how hard Bucky tried to focus, her words barely registered.

The dessert had arrived a few minutes ago, but he hadn’t touched it. His fork lay untouched on the table, his hands clasped in his lap as he forced himself to nod and smile at the right moments. He laughed when he thought he should, added a comment here or there, but his heart wasn’t in it.

Because something felt wrong.

It was a gnawing sensation, deep in his gut, an unease he couldn’t shake. He told himself it was nothing, that he was imagining it, but the weight of it pressed down on him like a stone.

His mind kept drifting back to you. The way you’d looked the last time he saw you—tired, withdrawn, a shell of the vibrant person he knew. The memory clawed at his chest, the guilt twisting tighter with every passing second.

Olivia said something, and he forced a smile, but he was already counting down the minutes until he could leave. He needed to check on you. He didn’t know why, but the thought wouldn’t leave him alone.

Then his phone buzzed on the table.

He barely glanced at the screen before his heart stopped. It was you.

Without thinking, Bucky grabbed his phone so fast that he knocked over his drink, the ice and liquid spilling across the table in a chaotic splash. Olivia gasped, startled by the sudden movement, but he barely noticed.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice rushed, already standing. “I have to take this.”

“Of course,” she said, her eyes wide with concern but understanding.

He didn’t bother stepping away. He answered immediately, pressing the phone to his ear. “Y/N?”

All he could hear was sobbing—raw, broken sobs that sent ice-cold fear coursing through his veins. Then there was the sound of your uneven breathing, as if you were struggling to get air.

“Y/N?” he said again, louder this time, panic tightening his throat. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

“Bucky…” Your voice was faint, choked with tears, barely audible over the sound of your crying.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said, his voice trembling now.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered. His mind was racing, every nerve in his body screaming at him to do something, anything.

He fumbled with his phone, his hands shaking as he opened a text to Sam.

Bucky: Call 911. Send them to Y/N’s apartment. NOW.

Sam’s response came almost instantly:

Sam: What’s going on? On it.

“I kept your promise, Buck,” you said suddenly, your voice slurred and distant. “I’m gonna keep it, okay?”

Bucky was already out the door, his feet pounding against the pavement as he ran. “What promise, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice desperate as he weaved through the crowded New York streets. “Talk to me.”

“The one from high school…” Your voice was weaker now, fading. “Senior year.”

Bucky’s chest constricted. His mind flashed back to that night—the balcony, the wind whipping around you, the way he’d grabbed you and pulled you back with trembling hands. The memory hit him like a freight train, knocking the air from his lungs.

“You kept it,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m so proud of you, angel. You hear me? I’m almost there. Stay with me, okay?”

“The pills, Bucky.... getting sleepy,” you murmured, your words dragging, barely coherent. “I’m sorry, Bucky. It’s better this way. For everyone. I just wanted to hear your voice one last time…”

“No,” he said sharply, tears streaming down his face as he sprinted through the crowded streets, dodging pedestrians and ignoring the blaring horns of cars. “No, baby, don’t say that. Don’t say goodbye. Stay awake. You gotta stay awake for me, okay? Please.”

You didn’t respond right away, and the silence on the other end was deafening.

“Sweetheart,” he said desperately, his voice cracking as his legs burned with the effort of running. “I love you. Please. I love you so much. Don’t leave me. Please. It’s all my fault—please, please.”

Finally, your voice came through, soft and faint, barely more than a whisper. “It’s not your fault… Never your… Love you.”

And then silence.

“No, no, no,” he said, his voice frantic, his chest heaving as he pushed himself to run faster. He kept the phone pressed to his ear, listening to the faint sounds of the emergency responders on the other end—the muffled voices, the banging on your door.

Of course now you lock it, he thought bitterly, tears blurring his vision.

When he reached your apartment building, the flashing lights of ambulances and police cars painted the street in harsh red and blue. A small crowd had gathered, their faces etched with curiosity and concern, but Bucky shoved his way through without hesitation, his lungs burning as he sprinted up the stairs two at a time.

“Move!” he shouted, his voice hoarse as he pushed past the officers at your door.

And then he saw you.

You were lying motionless on the floor, your face pale, your body lifeless as the paramedics worked over you. One of them was performing chest compressions, their hands pressing rhythmically into your chest, while another prepared an oxygen mask.

“NO!” Bucky screamed, his voice shattering as he stumbled forward, his knees threatening to give out beneath him.

One of the paramedics muttered, “Come on. Stay with us.”

Bucky’s world narrowed to the sight of you—your still form, the faint beeping of medical equipment, the paramedic’s steady rhythm. His knees buckled, and he grabbed the edge of the couch to steady himself, his vision swimming as the tears fell harder.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice breaking, barely audible over the chaos. “Please, don’t leave me. I love you. I love you so much. Please.”

But you didn’t move.

Under Pressure

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x steve #Spotify

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h0neylevi · 4 months ago

Text

c/w: sort of hurt/comfort i guess??, modern au, fluff

If there is one thing Levi doesn’t do, it’s hover.

People like Hange had always been better at comforting others. Or Erwin, with his knack for always saying the right thing. They were always the first to come to someone’s side as a shoulder to cry on or a willing ear. Interfering with that system seemed like a bad idea, particularly since Levi was neither good at comforting people or always saying the right thing.

So he feels completely out of his element when you walk through the front door and make a beeline for the bedroom without so much as a hello.

At first, he thinks that maybe he’s just missed your greeting over the sound of washing dishes. That maybe you are eager to get changed into something comfortable after a long day of work and would join him in the kitchen.

But when a few minutes turns into fifteen and you haven’t shown up, he starts to wonder where you’ve gone. The shower isn’t running–that much he can tell when he shuts off the faucet–and there’s a distinct lack of movement that he’s come to recognize as the sound of your footsteps.

The entire apartment is so quiet that even the shuffle of his feet on the way to the bedroom feels too loud.

When he finds you, you’re curled onto your side in the dark, facing away from the door. If he didn’t know you so well, he’d assume you were asleep. But your shoulders are tense, and a small, almost imperceptible twitch in them tells him that you’ve heard his approach.

But he doesn’t cross the threshold, torn between concern and the realization that you likely would have called for him if you wanted his company. He thinks of what Hange might do (barge in and fawn at your side) and immediately dismisses it. He’ll have to think of something else.

So he waits in the open doorway, staring at the back of your head like it might give him the answer to his problem. Would you want him to sit at your side? Pull you close? Should he ask what’s bothering you or distract you?

Okay, so maybe he hovers a little.

Failing to come up with a solution, he finally asks, “Everything okay?”

You roll over slowly to face him like your limbs are made of lead.

“Yeah.” Your voice is thin and lifeless. Strike two. “M’just tired.”

In the dim light from the hall, he can see that you’re still in your day clothes, but at least you’ve had the decency to remove your shoes before climbing into bed.

Still, something about it irks him. You don’t ever lie around in regular clothes.

“Do you want me to get you something to sleep in?”

For a moment, he’s graced with a small upward curve of your mouth but it isn’t mirrored in your eyes. “No, it’s okay.”

You don’t ask him to stay or go, so he struggles with which to do. If it were anyone else, it wouldn’t be such an issue, but the absence of your usual bright and bubbly self is concerning.

Maybe you want him to make the decision.

He pushes off of the door frame. “I’ll be right back.”

He returns to the kitchen with an idea.

When he was a kid and he wasn’t feeling well, his mom would always make a casserole. It was cheap and quick—not necessarily the highest quality meal—but he’s come to associate the dish with comfort. So he does what he can in lieu of words and gets to work. Knowing your eating habits, you’re likely starving and either too worried about inconveniencing him to admit it or haven’t realized yet just how long it's been since your last meal.

It doesn’t take long before he’s returning to the bedroom carrying two hot mugs of tea.

You haven’t moved from your spot on the bed, but your clothes have been discarded in favor of a hoodie he wore earlier. He can see the pile of your things on the floor, and while he feels the urge to huff at the mess, he keeps the comment to himself just this once. You can (and likely will) get it in the morning.

“Are we stealing clothes now?” he asks, walking over to place one of the mugs on your bedside table.

Another barely-there grin curls over the corners of your mouth. “What’s yours is mine.”

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes,” he replies, “It’s ‘what’s mine is yours’.”

“That’s what I just said.”

You don’t shift or say anything else as he returns to his side. At least not until he’s sat his own mug down and climbed into bed.

You watch him as if surprised. “What are you doing?”

He turns toward you. “Laying with you.” There’s a beat before he asks, “Is that okay?”

Instead of saying anything, you nod and he settles in, close but not quite touching you. Giving you space if you need it, but an opportunity to get closer if you want it.

Eventually, the desire to be close to him seems to override everything else.

Levi waits as you get closer, allowing you to get comfortable against his side before closing an arm around your back. You form together like two snug puzzle pieces.

Once you’re settled, you sigh like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, and Levi smiles to himself.

It’s nice. Levi allows the silence to continue, busying himself with a gentle massage to your scalp with his fingertips, and the only noise in the room is the slow sound of your breathing.

But eventually, he has to speak.

“Are you hungry?”

You think about it for a moment before replying, “I think?”

Levi stretches as far as your position will allow to glance at the clock. “Well, dinner is in the oven. It’ll be done in about twenty minutes.”

That gives you some time to decide at least.

You squeeze his torso slightly, a silent thank you he thinks, and he responds with a squeeze of his own around your shoulders.

You laugh lightly and burrow your face into his chest. Already he can feel your limbs beginning to relax a bit more. There’s more energy to your tone when you insist, “Just a few more minutes. I don’t want to move.”

His fingers return to the slow massaging motion to your scalp. Maybe he’ll ask you about it over dinner, but for now he’s content to wait however long you need.

“Take your time.”

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x gn!reader #aot fic #levi drabble

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blackknight-kai · 4 months ago

Note

listen ok? listen just a mo! gimme a chance

Modern reader with DO or SW who is shaved. or better yet waxed. just smooth as a baby

You and your monke getting frisky for the first time and the molecular movement of the universe stops the second he sees you bare... like wtf?!? Where's the fur? what did you do to it??? Why did you do it?!?

shennanigans follow, he basicaly gets all hissy and pissy and you need to promise to give your fur a chance. Once it grows out he's like "MY fuzzy peach."

Fur or no fur?

HAHA friend you always are on the same wavelength as me. I have THOUGHTS. (N.S.F.W WARNING FOR THE ENTIRE POST!!!)

He would not give TWO FUCKS about how hairy you are. Ever. Have you seen him? I’ve been thinking a lot about how he absolutely would not mind if youre a hairy person or whatever your weight is. That shit WOULD NOT MATTER. I feel like he’d love if you let your hair grow though vs being shaved/waxed. He lives in the jungle why wouldn’t he eat there too? 💀

I’ll try to give a little Drabble on both since it’s fun to imagine the subtle differences between them.

Reader in this is in a situation where she’d been zapped to the past but can go back when she needs to the present (after lots of trial and error). Sometimes he comes along, being her anchor to the past, and sometimes he stays back waiting for reader. (N.S.F.W bullet notes at the end :) - this get explicit for FEM READER you have been warned)

Destined one

The bathroom is warm and steamy from your bath/shower combo, you sigh opening the door letting the cool air into the room as you step into your connected bedroom. Seeing him look up at you as you come into view while he’s lounging on his back on your bed makes your heart beat quicken with anticipation. He’d been playing with your tablet, something he’s oddly gotten really good at messing with and especially enjoys the little word games you’d downloaded for him. Your world is still extremely strange to him and while he’s ever curious something as simple as these little games can keep him entertained for hours.

The reason he’s visiting today isn’t just because he’s curious about the life you came from. Oh no. Today, you both are taking a much needed break and a little private time for yourselves without the worry of constant danger or interruption. Since the day you’d become a couple you two had not really had too many moments for just you guys. It had been months since that day and you’d both gotten a little…pent up so to speak. The most you’ve gotten to do with your handsome monkey is heated make-outs where hands wander as best they can and a little grinding over the clothes before something or someone decides to ruin the moment.

It was a little bit of a shy awkward conversation but you’d both agreed that coming here would be the best solution to your continuous cock block issue. And since you were coming home anyway you figured you’d do a little self pampering and prepare for your first night with him. You’d even put on your favorite pair of ‘sexy’ panties, no bra, and slipped on a silk robe.

You smile as his tail, which had been completely still and draped across the blanket, starts to lazily thump against the bed, curling and uncurling as soon as his eyes locked on to you. It’s one of the ways you know he’s happy to see you. His eyes are another of his tells. The way he always looks at you with such focus and intensity. It makes your cheeks redden and a thrill run down your spine.

There is a thick tension growing in the air as you both study one another for a moment before he sets the tablet to the side on your nightstand and gets up from the bed, his eyes never look away from you and your heart pounds loudly in your ears as he stalks deliberately around the bed to stand just before you. Youre focused on his expression, it’s softer than usual. His frown lines relaxed and while he has that determined look on his face it’s not stern like normal. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his tail swishing behind him.

Gently he reaches out and you lean into his touch as he places his large calloused hand on your cheek. As he does so he brings his face closer and brushes his simian nose against yours tenderly and then he does it again with a slight smirk lifting up the corner of his eye and a soft questioning grunt. Seeing you nod he lets out a pleased sigh through his nose before leaning in to capture your lips with his. It’s chaste at first but quickly deepens as he wraps an arm around your waist to bring you closer and slides his claw tipped fingers down your neck with the other. Things rapidly heat up as the pent up need in you both starts to take over. Hands start to wander and you both start to breathe heavier as he impatiently slides his shirt off his shoulders. Your fingers immediately reach out to touch and slide through his warm fur starting from his tense abs all the way up his chest and over the hairless patch of skin just under his neck before circling your arms around his neck.

His own hands start to move too, holding you tightly against him as he starts to explore your curves. Impatiently he yanks at the robed tied around you while his tongue explores your mouth, wanting it off NOW. With a little laugh you try to reach down to untie the knot but you’re not fast enough. As he kisses hotly down your neck, having takin a moment to taste your skin, he presses his fangs to your throat gently as he rips the robes belt. You gasp, both turned on by the show of strength and annoyed he’d ripped it.

“Hey!” You say breathlessly and shiver as he nips your neck before kissing it as an apology.

Now that your robe is no longer hiding you from him he pulls your body into his by strong hands and you shudder at the feeling of his fur rubbing softly against your naked skin. His body answers in kind and he kisses back up your neck to devour your lips, his hands slipping into the opened robe to wander up and down your back. You allow the silk material to fall from your arms and on to the floor before wrapping your arms back around his neck. It’s like something has taken a hold of you two and you cant get close enough, cant feel enough, and before long he snatches you up into his strong grip only to deposit you onto your bed as he climbs over you.

You both groan as he lowers himself on top of you settling himself between your spread legs like he belongs there, his clothed hips thrusting instinctively against yours showing you just how hard and desperate he is for you. Your body arches up against his unable to stop the movement as he humps down against you for several moments while you pant into each others mouths, his fur tickles your breasts as your chests brush together making you let out little shivers. The claw tipped fingers of one of his hands dig into your hip and back as he starts guiding your hips to grind harder, your pussy pressing incessantly against his cock, the other arm is propped up next to your head keeping his weight from crushing you.

Your panties are soaked from how needy hes made you and you can tell he knows when he suddenly takes in a deep inhale through his nose before pulling back just a little to look down at you, his eyes are blown out with a heated lust you have only ever seen a few times. A little whine escapes you as he continues to pull back from you, he grins a little, the cheeky bastard, as he hears it. He’s breathing heavily, just as you are, and as he pulls his hips back from yours a groan rumbles through his chest at the visible wet spots you’d both made on the front of his blue pants and on your panties from your combined need.

Almost like a monkey possessed he slides down the bed, diving down to kiss your lips once and then nip at your exposed skin from your neck to your breasts. You tip your head back, your eyes closing in pleasure, as he pays special attention to suck each of your nipples into his mouth one at a time with a groan before releasing the currently captured nipple with a wet pop to continue his mouths journey down your stomach and to your panty line. His breathing has picked up even more, sending trembles through your body as his breath tickles your skin. Part of you feels a little self conscious as he is clearly taking in your aroused scent.

Without warning he shreds through your panties and you gasp at the action finding it ridiculously hot. You expect him to dive down and glide his tongue over your pussy lips to taste you or to spread your lower lips open with his thumbs so he can start to devour you with his mouth from how desperate he seemed, your anticipation is almost enough to send you over the edge.

But none of that happens. Nothing happens besides him making a very confused noise in the back of his throat. At the sound you glance down and you’re met with a sight you genuinely weren’t expecting.

He’s frowning. Not a look of disgust by any means but his expression is almost the same as when he’s seeing something from your world for the first time. Confused.

“Uh, you okay?” You ask feeling your heart pound with a slight worry.

He doesnt even glance up at you as another confused sound leaves him, it’s a mixture of human and monkey, something entirely just him. You watch as he slides his hand from your inner thigh, where it had been holding you open, and he pets over the smooth naked skin of your pussy lips almost tentatively. You’d just shaved in the bathroom in preparation for this moment so you know your skin is silky smooth.

A grimace accompanies the frown and now you’re starting to feel self conscious. His fingers explore but not in the heated way you would expect. His touch remains light as though he doesnt know what hes looking at and you cant stop the shiver that courses through you as his thumb brushes across the slick that had leaked from you, but he doesnt do much besides continue his investigation, not even opening you up to look as he is entirely focused it seems on your smooth skin.

Feeling nervous and wondering if maybe he’s changed his mind you squirm uncomfortably and lay your hands across your chest self consciously. “Do you,” You find your voice and with a worried heart ask him what’s now plaguing your mind. “Not like it? Does it look weird or something? You look like you hate it and if you dont want me-“

Your voice cuts off as his eyes snap to yours and his expression shifts immediately to one of apologetic realization. He shakes his head and lets out a little comforting noise as he starts to climb back up your body peppering little kisses all the way from your stomach until he captures your mouth in a firm kiss. You grip on to his biceps as he deepens the kiss desperate to prove he wants you. It’s a messy kiss and after a few moments you laugh and pull away. His frown is still there but it has a worried edge to it and you know he’s trying to convey his true feelings to you, its even more apparent as he nuzzles your cheek with his nose and gives you little kisses of apology.

“Okay okay,” You breathe out as he cups your other cheek with one hand and gives firmer kisses. The back of your thighs are resting over top his as he holds himself above you with one hand still on the bed next to your head. “It’s okay!” You try to say although you’re not quite sure what’s happened. “Just tell me what’s wrong, I dont,” Your paused voice has lowered to a murmur as he pulls back to look at you, his thumb brushing your cheek gently. “Understand why you were looking at it like that….”

His face takes a different expression at your words. He still looks a little apologetic but its taken on the edge of a…pout? It’s similar to when you sit just outside the reach of his tail so he cant wrap it around you and he stares at you until you either move closer or he huffs with annoyance and either pulls you closer or moves next to you. You watch as he seems to study you for a moment as though he’s trying to figure out what he wants to convey to you.

The hand on your cheek moves away as he bring it down to your pussy again. You watch curiously as he brushes his thumb across the smooth skin before he reaches up and tugs on a lock of your hair. It’s your turn to frown up at him and he huffs a little before finally opening his mouth to utter a single low raspy word.

“Fur.”

Fur? You think to yourself as you also bask in the snippet of his voice that he rarely bestows on the world. He pointedly tugs on your hair before lowering his hand again to pat the soft skin between your legs, the action sends a jolt through you and makes your thighs tighten around him. His lip twitches at the action and it takes you just a moment but you finally realize what his problem is.

When you giggle his eyes glance down and narrow as your breast jiggle a little with the movement, you reach out and pet his cheek. He nuzzles into your touch with a slight sigh as he looks up from your chest. “You’re wondering where my hair is?” You ask with a smile. He nods and kisses your palm as your thumb brushes across the fur on his cheek. “I removed it for you!”

He gives you a confused look as if to ask ‘Why’ & ‘How’.

“I shaved it off earlier, it’s something most women do now a day’s. Guy’s usually prefer it that way,” You explain and you might have gotten offended by the look he gives you but it’s honestly too damn funny.

His nose wrinkles and he looks as though you told him modern people bathe in shit or something. With a snicker you pull him down to lie on top of you again, pleased to feel that his desire for you has not weaned if the hard press of his cock against you is anything to go by. You tentatively grind up against him and grin at the sharp intake of breath he does. “This mean you still want me?”

At your teasing question he snorts and gives you a rare wide smirk before thrusting against you hard sending a shock of pleasure up your spine as his clothed dick rubs against your bare pussy. His tail wraps itself around your calf holding you open as again he pulls back, to your disappointment, this time to sit up fully. You watch as he reaches down to push his pants down and your cheeks burn as you notice the string of slick connecting the bulge on his pants to your wet pussy. It breaks as he shoves the material out of the way and his heavy cock slips out. The hard length is drooling with precum as he palms himself and youre so focused on it for a moment you almost dont hear a light laugh come from him. His fingers uncurl from their hold on his cock and gesture for you to look up. Doing so you see one of the cockiest expressions on his face you have ever seen.

He spends the rest of the night showing you exactly how much he wants you and will continue to want you. Over the course of the next several weeks into months you discover several things about him. First and foremost, he loves your juicy peach. That said, he loves it even more when you let your hair grow out. He doesnt mind if you trim it or if you leave it wild and untamed. As long as he has something pet and play with as he licks you to orgasm.

Just to test that theory you hadn’t let him near your core until some of the hair had grown back, not that he had many opportunities anyway between the fights he always seems to get himself into. The adoring pleased sound hed made as he nuzzled his nose and cheeks across your soft fuzzy pussy would have been adorable if it wasn’t overly stimulating, especially as his sneaky tongue would slip between your lips every so often to taste you.

Shaving it has become rare, but sometimes just to mess with him you do it. Seeing his adorable pout and huffy attitude as he realizes you’ve shaved or waxed is just so satisfying especially when he gets so hot and bothered later when it grows back. Keeps him on his toes.

Wukong

When you arrive, having in finished your business in the present time, Wukong is lounging on your now shared bed in the beautiful home he’d commissioned for you way back when he first decided you would be his. Yes, hed decided that long before you officially became an item. Part of you was annoyed by his cocky arrogance of it but the other part was thankful that you had somewhere safe to stay while he was off doing Wukong things, which generally consisted of annoying the hell out of someone, fighting someone, baby sitting the little monkey’s, or training his monkey’s. While hes always going to be mischievous and up to something, he is very protective of his people and now that you are part of his life he wanted to make sure you had a space of your own.

Apparently he’d taken inspiration from your modern home, which he is very rarely allowed to visit as he cant seem to keep himself out of trouble nor stop himself from messing with every little thing in your house to the point of annoyance. You find his curiosity adorable and love showing him new things but sometimes his more….chaotic nature takes hold and there’s only so much you can do to stop the force of nature that is Sun Wukong. Which most of the time is nothing. So to combat that you only take him to your time on special occasions.

It’s gotten a little better after you’d become official, he is calmer and not as anxious about when you will come back. Because in his mind you WILL come back and he trusts you to do so. The one thing that hasn’t gotten easier is your alone time with him. He’s quite busy oddly enough and since your relationship had only progressed so far you hadn’t really let him stay with you at the home he’d built you, not until about a week ago. You’d THOUGHT you might be able to get some action by letting him sleep with you at night but no. It’s been interruption after interruption or he comes back late into the night only to leave early in the morning for some reason or another. Someone always seems to need his attention and he cares too much about his people to leave them hanging. Plus protecting them from wandering dangers.

His furry warm solid body is a welcome comfort as you sleep but it’s not enough. Neither are sneaky touches and kisses he bestows on you throughout the day. It’s only made worse due to his cheeky nature as he enjoys watching squirm or get worked up only to cackle as you pout at him when he bounds off to another duty. You KNOW he’s suffering too, you’ve felt his heated eyes on you almost every minute youre within his sight and the lingering touches. Not to mention his obvious desire that ends up pressed against you when you kiss a little too long or when youre genuinely interrupted during an attempted moment alone together.

It had come to a head when you’d had enough of his games on top of the true issues that seem to prevent you from getting your monkey king alone. He’d worked you up too much two days ago, his tail caressing you and sneaking under your shirt while you were cuddling in bed amongst the soft furs and pillows. Wukongs hands had also joined in as he pressed himself behind you, his hot breath tickling your ear as he rocked himself against your ass. Heat had started to build up within you and you’d just started to lean into him when he kisses your neck and then scurries out of bed with a laugh, saying he just wanted to spend a little time with you before his meeting with his generals.

You’d had enough. So as he turns you reached out and snagged his tail, yanking on it unkindly. His body had instantly frozen and you were pleased to see the full body shudder that went through him before his slowly turned to the side to look at you. Wukong was tense, his body taut, and his nostrils flaring as his expression went from playful to downright boiling with arousal. He exuded a certain air of ‘tug my tail one more time, I dare you’. Seeing the obvious bulge in his pants twitch at your defiant look, you almost yank his tail again. But there was a loud banging on your front door alerting the two of you that his generals were waiting. When he tried to turn to leave you dont let go of his tail making him pause.

You then tell him, “You have two days. On the 2nd day I’m going home and if you’re not here when I come back and have a clear schedule for a minimum of three days you will not be allowed in this house again and your hands will be kept to yourself from then on until I say so, am I clear Sun Wukong?” Your voice is firm and leaves no room for question.

Wukong raised an eyebrow as you use his full name and for a moment you were afraid he wasn’t going to take you seriously and instead start teasing you for wanting him too much. Another loud knock sounded through the house from the front door and thankfully he just smirked and reached down to tickle a claw under your chin. “Dont worry my peach, you’ll have your kings full attention. I’ll take care of your,” He trailed his eyes hotly down your body and then back up to meet your gaze. “Desires. All of them and then some.”

At his promise you let go of his tail, he swiped it teasingly against your cheek before he was off again.

Now as you reappear in your shared bedroom your eyes rake over him skeptically as he grins at you. He’s lying shirtless on his side, his tail swishing lazily behind him looking as though he’d been patiently awaiting your arrival. But the twig stuck in the fur on his head say’s otherwise. So does the open window behind him.

You raise your eyebrow at him and he gives you an adorable grin. Wukong see’s where your eyes have caught and he quickly rakes his claws through his hair and tosses the stick. Your eyes roll at how ridiculously accurate he is as he manages to throw it out the window.

“I see you made it,” You say walking over to the bed and putting your hands on your hips. The sight of his furred upper body and his muscles on display tempers your slight annoyance with him for clearly only just arriving. “Just in time it seems.”

Wukong chuckles and he pats the bed in front of him signaling for you to join him. “A King must make sure his Sweet Peach is satisfied does he not?”

You dont move to join him just yet, wanting to let him stew as his eyes roam over your body. The silk robe you’d put on was new and so were the matching panties. Your breasts were free and only just barely covered by the silk material, Wukongs eyes seemed to hover there for a moment before he looks up and meets your eyes. “I suppose thats true. I was starting to wonder though if my King wasn’t up to the task, he always seems to find some reason or another to leave me unsatisfied.”

The words are playful yet cutting. Wukong doesnt take the bait, you’d expected him to get huffy and go all ‘I’ll show you’ but instead his expression softens uncharacteristically. “Come here,” His voice is gentle as he holds out a calloused hand to you. “Please, come here,” Wukong doesnt beg but its near to as he say’s your name. Something he doesnt normally do preferring to call you his ‘Peach’ usually combined with a compliment.

Unable to resist you climb on to the bed, the robe thankfully doesnt go past your knees so youre able to crawl across the furs with no issues. He sits up to meet you and once youre close enough he pulls you effortlessly onto his lap as he takes your mouth in a desired filled kiss. You straddle him, a thigh on either side of his hips, and wrap your arms around his neck as his hands find purchase on your body. One wrapping around your waist to bring you close and the other glides up your back to hold the back of your head as he slips his tongue into your mouth with a groan.

Before the kiss can get too much more intense he pulls back, both of you a little breathless, and sets his forehead against yours. “My pretty Peach, you have no idea how much I want you do you?” He asks, voice thick with growing arousal.

A smile cracks on your face and you shake your head just a little. “I know you want me Wukong. I know you’re busy and have duties to your people,” You reply sincerely. “But sometimes I need you too, and not just stolen kisses or your little cheeky touches to my ass.”

Wukong’s arm around your waist tightens at your words causing you to slip further into his lap and settle your weight fully on him. “You’re right, I have duties to you too now. Not only as a King but as a mate. I promise to do better,” He nuzzles his nose against yours and of course pinches your ass with the hand that is no longer holding the back of your head. As you laugh he grins and his tail slithers up your leg, the soft fur causing goosebumps to crop up in its wake. “You better be ready,” Wukongs tail sneaks under the robe and you can feel it caressing your ass cheek as though it was trying to get under your panties. “I’ve been holding back for far too long and I’m going to show you just how much I want you.”

“Then get to it,” You challenge with a grin of your own. “Mate.”

He flashes his fangs as his grin widens. “I like that word on your tongue, say it again,” Wukong demands but doesnt let you even attempt to utter the word as he kisses you deeply, his tongue immediately entering your mouth, claiming you as his to kiss this way.

A moan leaves your throat as Wukongs hands migrate to your thighs, his claw tipped fingers digging in a little as he massages them sensually for a moment before slipping up your legs to your core. The claws of his thumbs brush just against the fabric of your panties catching on them as his hands continue their journey up your body.

Wukong makes a noise of complaint in the back of his throat as the belt of your robe prevents him from getting any further. Without breaking the needy kiss he deftly unties it. The silk material falls open and his hands slide up your sides until your breast are cupped by his large, rough warm palms. A needy sound escapes you as you feel him massage your tits, hearing the noise Wukong’s hips grind up against yours and you can feel just how affected he is by you. You grind down against him making him squeeze your breasts in reaction.

He breaks the kiss as he groans, a string of saliva connecting your lips together for just a second. Wukong nips your chin and trails wet kisses down your neck as he moves his hands once more, this time grabbing your wrists. You gasp as youre suddenly moved, your arms held above your head as your back hits the bed. Wukong’s furry face is grinning roguishly down at you as he effortlessly holds both of your wrists with one hand.

“Gorgeous,” He rumbles still breathless from your passionate kiss. You arch your back as he dives down to lick the center of your chest between your boobs before taking one of your nipples into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue. “Tasty too,” Wukong nips your nipple and then sucks little marks on your chest on his way to taste the other.

His strong tail circles your waist under your back and jerks your hips into his at the same time as he roughly thrusts against you. You let out a little sound as your thighs instinctively tighten around his waist from the stimulation which he answers with his own pleased rumble. His free hand gets to work shredding and ripping your panties off as Wukong traces his lips back up your neck and to your ear which he licks and nips at, his breath tickles your skin making you shiver.

“Wukong! I liked those!” You half heartedly complain.

Wukong smirks against your ear as he tosses the useless panties carelessly. “And I like them off you,” He says lowly as he leans back to look you in the eyes. “I can smell how wet you are for me Peaches,” Wukongs voice has taken on an aroused rasp and he licks his lips while taking a deep breath through his nose, his eyes never leaving yours. “No pretty little fabric is going to keep me from tasting your pleasure.”

“You still didn’t have to rip them,” You mumble with a slight pout but its quickly replaced by a gasp as he thrusts against you again while pinching one of your nipples with that free hand of his. He snickers and leans down to steal your lips in a messy kiss and then your arching your chest again as he breaks the kiss and replaces his teasing fingers with his mouth once more. He chuckles, the vibration felt on your nipple, as you squirm against him unable to grab him due to his hold on your wrists with his other hand. He takes pity on you and releases your wrists only so he can pinch both your nipples at the same time and roll them between his fingers as he kisses down your stomach.

Your thighs spread to accommodate him and his shoulders while your heart and breath quicken as he reaches his destination. His lips still though as they touch the soft naked skin just above your slit and a needy whine leaves your mouth. You try to wiggle your hips as if to say ‘let’s get this show on the road’ but suddenly his strong hands are gripping your hips holding you down and he fully sits up pulling his face away from your pussy.

“What the-“

“Where did your beautiful fur go?” Wukong demands, voice is full of confusion.

“What?” You blink at him, confused yourself before a little tremor runs through you as he begins to almost tentatively brush his fingers over your soft mound and down your slick lips, his fingers spreading your juices but not necessarily meaning to.

“Your fur, why is it gone? What did you do with it? Why do you look this way?” He locks eyes with you and you see how serious his question is. He’s clearly perturbed by what he’s found as he removes his fingers from you and instead grips on to your tense thigh. Wukongs tail smacks the bed behind him in an almost angry rhythm.

Your heart stutters but not with arousal. “I-uhm,” You stumble over your words completely taken aback by his change in demeanor. “I had it removed, got it waxed the other day for you after you left to talk with your generals.”

Wukongs face scrunches up with distaste as he looks back down between your legs. “Why would you do such a thing? Is it permanent?” His tone is incredulous and upset.

Feeling self conscious you try to close your thighs but he holds you open. So instead you reach down and cover yourself with your hands, the movement makes him look up at you but you turn your head to the side not wanting to look at his displeasure anymore. “I thought you’d like it,” You murmur lowly knowing he can hear every word with how good his hearing is. Your cheeks are turning red feeling a little ashamed now and not sure why. “Most guys want that.”

He scoffs, his fingers gripping your thigh and hip tighter. “You’re forgetting I’m not ‘most’ guys Peaches,” Wukong states his voice not quite angry but getting there. “I don’t care who you may have lain with in the past but they aren’t me-“

“I know that!” You turn your head to glare at him, pulling the leg up that he isnt holding and kicking him in the chest once. He doesnt budge of course nor does he even look like it affected him at all as you keep your foot there putting pressure in the hopes that he will just back off. He doesnt move and instead frowns down at you as he removed his hand from your hip to grab your ankle. Turning your head away from him again look anywhere but at him. “Where I come from this is normal! People trim and clean up for their partners, mates, and it’s supposed to be sexy. I-“ You cut yourself off and slightly curl in on yourself as you feel his gaze boring into you. Your skin has started to grow cold and if you didn’t need to cover yourself up you would have grabbed a blanket to cover up. “I just wanted to be pretty for you.”

At your admission Wukongs grip on your thigh loosens and he gently coaxes your ankle away from his chest pulling your leg back to his side. “Oh my gorgeous Peach,” He sighs softly and you can immediately tell the change in his tone. Wukong tries once to get you to remove your hands but you refuse. “Look at me,” Your monkey king asks gently and you shake your head.

With a gentle sound from deep in his chest, something you’ve really only heard him do with the little ones that are always following after him, he leans down putting one of his hands next to your head and the other sweetly cups your turned cheek. Firmly, but without much force, he coaxes you to look at him and when you do you see how much his expression has softened. You dont have tears in your eyes, not quite, but the look on your face has Wukong making that instinctive comforting sound again.

“I’m sorry,” He apologizes keeping his voice low, something that he very rarely ever does, as he gently taps your nose with his. “I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted or that you aren’t stunning in every way,” Wukongs tail slides out from under your back and he brushes it soothingly up and down your leg. “Make no mistake, fur or no fur, I hunger for you.”

There is a certainty in his words and you know he’s not lying but the way he acted still has you defensive and unsure. “Then why are you acting like you hate it?”

Wukong has the capacity to look a little sheepish. “I suppose I just wasn’t expecting it,” He sniffs and glances away. “Your smooth juicy peach is still mouthwatering and beautiful, I just prefer you a little more…fuzzy. Seeing you bathing that one time made me very excited to explore your pretty little curls.”

The time he was speaking of was before you’d gotten together and he’d accidentally gotten an eye full of your naked body as he wasn’t being mindful of your personal time in the modern era and had thrown your bathroom door open to gripe about the magic box. Your tv had been buffering due to internet connection and it apparently was freaking him out enough that he forgot that you were bathing. Or so he says.

His words make you flush. “You’re so weird,” You mumble not sure what to say and blink up at him as he looks back at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I am, am I?” He teases as he leans back sitting up again before gently sliding his up and down your arms trying to comfort you. “Let me see you,” Wukong requests using your name once more with a pleading tone to his voice. Your hands twitch but you dont move them away from shielding your smooth hairless cunt from his eyes.

You shake your head slightly. “But you dont like it,” You reply still feeling self conscious about the whole thing.

Wukongs features soften again and that gentle sound hed made rumbles in his chest, oddly it’s extremely soothing and comforting it, he slides his hands down to cover yours, not attempting to move you just holding. “Forgive my little tantrum about your fur, I never not want to see you. Do you want me to show you how much I crave you? Because I do, all the time. Let me make it up to you,” His tone is comforting and also sincere as he strokes the top of your hands with his thumbs.

Studying him for a moment you contemplate if you want to continue this or not, you find that you do as you’d been waiting so long and you do trust him to be honest with his word. He’s said much worse to people and doesnt hold back when he’s thinking something. Finally you nod after you gather your courage. Youre just about to start moving your hands when he squeezes them and pointedly pats them.

“Keep them there for one more moment,” Wukong says in contradiction to what hed just asked. You frown with a bit of confusion up at him but he just smiles at you as he sits a little further back and you notice for the first time that there’s still a bulge in his pants. He clearly hadn’t lost his interest in your activities. His hands move to the top of his pants and start to push them down while his tail swishes back and forth behind him. “Thinking about you makes my cock ache daily you know,” He tells you, his voice taking on a more heated tone as his eyes roam over your body and especially over your pressed together tits.

A shudder zips down your spine as slips his pants fully off, tossing them behind him his fully furry body on display. His hard length is standing at attention and heat starts to build within you again as he takes himself in hand with a rumbling groan, stroking slowly and making the tip leak. You watch, your breath starting to pick up, as he thumbs the drop of precum off his cock and nods at your hands silently asking you to remove them.

As you do so he reaches out and swipes his wet thumb a little over your silky soft pubic mound before dragging it down to your slit, it’s an almost possessive act of rubbing his essence on you. You’re still wet from your previous activities and your body lights up as his thumb slides between your pussy lips slowly. Feeling how slick you are he croons lowly and slips his thumb out only to stick it directly into his mouth. Your hole tightens as he moans around the flavor.

Seeing you squirm a little he chuckles and scoots forward resting his hard dick against your slick lips, the dual sensation of his fur brushing the back of your thighs and his heavy cock sends heat racing through you. Your hips tilt and he mimics the movement pressing down on the top of his length with his hand so that it slips between your lower lips. The glide is smooth after a thrust or two thanks to how slick you are and little moans tear out of your throat as the head of his cock slides against your clit with each controlled glide. You grab on to his furry forearms just to have something to hold as moves against you.

Wukong groans deep in his chest, his own breath picking up speed. “You feel so fucking good,” He pants as you squeeze your legs around him tightly. His hands wrap around your hips preventing you from arching your self just so as he almost slips inside during one thrust making you both shake and moan. “Ah, ah, ah, I’m not done with you just yet,” Wukong grins down at you as he pulls his hips away from yours. He snarls as he sees how wet you’ve made his cock and the strings of slick connecting the two of you. “I told you I crave you. I intend to satisfy that craving.”

You cry out as your hips are suddenly raised up and youre bent almost in half as your pussy is pulled directly up to his waiting mouth.

He spends the next several hours, days honestly, making sure you know damn well and good that he is desperate for you at every minute of the day. That he craves the taste of you on his tongue and the feeling of your warm pussy wrapped tightly around his cock as he pounds into you. Fur or not he hungers for you like a starved monkey.

When alls said and done though he absolutely DEMANDS that you let your hair grow back. In fact he pouts around for several days after your little mini vacation until you finally agree to never shave or wax it again. But only after he reassured you that he would respect your choice of course if you decided to do it, he would devour you regardless.

As the hair slowly grows back Wukong seems happy, content. When it’s about half grown in you have to laugh your ass off as he mumbles to himself, “MY fuzzy peach”, one night before proceeding to eat you out like you really ARE his favorite food.

At some point you end up blocking him from seeing or touching your pussy. Why? Because he constantly checks to see how fast your curls are growing back and after a while it gets annoying. It’s honestly not that bad, youre happy hes excited about it, but just to mess with him you put a no sex or heavy petting rule into play. It’s worth it when you finally walk into your shared bedroom fully naked one night, curls on display. He promptly drops a dish of whatever he’d been snacking on, a very primal sound leaves his throat and youre promptly pounced on.

That night he’s untamed.

END!

Few things that I think BOTH would do:

- [ ] Rub their cheek/chin/lips over your fuzzy peach - like how cats like men with beards and like rubbing in their chins 💀

- [ ] It’s kinda like scent marking - he’s wearing you and you are wearing him - his sensitive nose reminding him that HE was there and only him.

- [ ] Enjoys combing gently through the jungle with his claws or twirling the hair softly as he licks you and tastes you.

- [ ] Might stick his hand down your pants/underwear when you cuddle at night to make sure you haven’t gotten rid of it 🤣

- [ ] Enjoys making your fur wet with his cum just like he enjoys you soaking his fur with your juices.

- [ ] Likes seeing your “fur” tangle with his as he fucks you.

#black myth wukong #black myth wukong x reader #destined one x reader #sun wukong x reader #bk kai writes #Well?#:)#This took a while LOL #Thats why I was slow getting other stuff done besides work.#I go sleep now….

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