#and yes it will take that long long to shake all the sand out

[tlblitzle]

Ugh, I always forget how bad Pal’s signal gets on route 4. I swear, the winds never let up here do they? The infinite sandstorm from hell

Finally in Castelia though. Did some training along the way, so while my team is healing up in the Pokémon Center I’m gonna dump the sand outta my boots. Burgh can wait another half hour lmao

[sundrlands]

‘below the mouth’ j. sunderland x fem reader

minors dni

cw: in the dark, shoe riding/humping, light oral fixation/spit play, slightly messy, james is depicted as a pervert, sub leaning james with him being dominant at times, obsessive(j.), mutual masturbation(?), squirting, breeding, james is in his mid to late thirties. reader uses she/her pronouns.

summary: james… your coworker. the man who seems so hardworking, headstrong and devoted to his work… is nothing but a pervert enticed with the very being that you are… he can’t help but to see you as art— a canvas to paint on… as if his hands were paint… and his fingertips as the bristles, sketching out his greed with his lips and his words.

a/n: more porn than plot, forgive me. not too fond of this one and kept eyeing it over and over over and ended up truly hating this… nonetheless i hope you find some enjoyment in this one. i did not proofread…

oh james… what ever shall he do?

poor thing, constantly wrapped up in his own mind… unable to tame the growing thoughts that mutated within him. being lonely does things to a person… the years of suppression only made his longing for intimacy fester in the darkness of his greed.

in the beginning… it had been alright— good with his composure, carrying a kind of elegance through his actions and words. he wore ‘respect’ like an honorable man— button down shirts, tucked nicely in his well ironed pants. every day he’d come in dapper, not one thing out of place. it would be impressive to notice his true desires when he hadn’t worn them out on his sleeves.

though now… it was a different story. there’s only so much he could take… seeing you in your work outfits every single day or hearing your voice… the song you sung that never failed to make him treasure your being and feel every vowel that spewed from your lips filter and sprawl all throughout his veins. james tried to keep his need low, always being so gentleman like— kind, thoughtful and charming, but his thickening puddle of lust seeped through in the growing void that rests in the center of his eyes… being far dirtier than what meets the eye, disgusting even.

it was cute once you picked up on it… or at least the extent of it— his shyness and ability to lose all self, unable to maintain professional eye contact or a flowing sentence without randomly clearing his throat. a man well into his thirties— one that was valued by your shared boss, exceeding work ethic, always saying ‘yes ma’am’ and ‘yes sir’, not blinking an eye to the rule’s code— felt the need to act so foolishly enticed when it came to you.

for him, the absence of touch— one that he never felt come from your hand — drove james into a constant state of lustrous want… it ate within his being like a hungered cannibal digging its fingers through every fiber of his flesh. it prodded and ripped in the center of his chest like a wolf's canines as he sat at his work desk, drained… lifeless… thinking about everything he wanted to do to you… or whatever you’d do to him.

the inside of his body grew hot at the thought of you— dry throat, racing heart, fumbling words… his eyes, lingering all over your body longer than they had the day before, trying to see how much he could get away with… letting every second store itself in his photographic memory.

infested with carnality, day and night. james’ mind couldnt escape his perverted thoughts; as if it was the horrid and angry deep sea, crashing against the softness of the hot sand, in need of something to fix prurience, and the heightening want to be underneath your skin.

it started off with a hello, you being new and him well within the company’s community by a decade or two. a sweet exchange of a firm gripped hand shake and small talk before you went on your way. upon his sight, he was already fond of the beauty you blossomed. he wasn’t able to stop himself from looking… and as time continued, each day you met with him, it caused him to be in his head.

whenever you agreed to go out with your coworkers to local bars and restaurants, he’d ask around, passively, wanting to know if you’d be there to join. any chance he’d get, he’d sit next to you or across from you, thinking that the lack of lighting would hide the fact that he sat there to study you— his gentle hazel eyes, staring with eagerness… tattooing you into the grooves of his brain. each time you all went out, it was as if he tried harder… or lost the ability to care if you noticed or not. catching his eyes… for the first few seconds he didn’t even realize your attention on him until you’d call out his name a few times or lean towards him, breasts spilling from your top.

he’d go home, all eager. undoing his tie and his belt, slamming his door shut and making his way towards his bed, muttering: “just this once…” to himself, staring down at his hardened dick after thinking about the way your breasts sat prettily in the top you wore.

with his eyes squeezed shut, his wrist rippled in fast motion with whitening knuckles. he’d call out your name. each whinier than the last… feeling the weight of your name kiss the head of his cock— irregular breathing, toes curling into the thick of his comforter— whines that turned into a chants. over and over again he moaned your name, not even lasting three minutes until he let himself go… ribbons of his hot cum falling down onto his chest.

shame filtered his body almost instantaneously, not understanding how he was able to let himself go just from a simple top you wore… he swore to himself that that would be the first and only time he’d ever do something like that— to rush into his house just to relieve the growing hard on that you, without much acknowledgment, gave him.

and for a few days, he hadn’t. it didn’t stop the stares or the way his cock jumped upon hearing your voice… he’d just fall back into the same perverted state, clutching onto the arm of his work chair while you talked to him about something he couldn’t even pay much attention to. he saw the outline of your body against your work outfit thinking about how you’d look if he ripped it off.

his breathing quickened as he tried to direct his gaze on something else, his computer… maybe his paperwork? it didn’t help because he could still hear you fucking speak.

a sharp gulp and a shaky sigh— it was the most obvious he’s ever been, sensing the way he was unable to sit still. “james?” you called out, amusement lingering in the tone of your voice.

“uhm.” he huffed, a faint smirk curling at the side of his lips, trying to keep his composure as much as he could. “sorry… im not feeling too well.” turning his head to you, seeing a warm, devious yet alluring smile rest on your lips. almost immediately, he reacted. swallowing hard and clearing his throat.

walking towards where the man sat, you placed your hand at his shoulder, feeling the softness of his suit glide against your palm, finding his averting eyes, “do you need me to… get you anything?”

he shook his head, flinching upon touch, dropping his attention into his lap where his hands bunched to cover the obvious dent. “it… it’s fine. i just have to use the restroom… excuse me.” his voice quick and slurred, body immediately jumping up from his chair as he made his way to the men’s bathroom.

the beat of his heart ran heavily in his ribcage, causing his body to burn and wither as he laid himself limply against the bathroom’s door. each inhale was harder to stabilize— the air feeling heavy and clunky as it lumped and fell down his throat. with the soft jingle of his belt, he pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees, “god…” he sighed, wrapping his hand around his cock— hot and tortured, “why do you… why do you turn me on so much?”

soft chokes and mutters fell in the echoing bathroom’s walls, covering his mouth creating muffled whimpers to exude and swell. his body churned and trembled, hearing the loose hinges of the door combat with his movement. “fuck… fuck…” he whined, his eyes traveling up to see the mirror across the way.

the sight of himself… it almost looked like his own reflection was a stranger. no person has ever made him have the need to run for a quick release… at least not from their voice alone. it was just how eager he was— how eager you made him— the look of his knees buckling, the pace of his pumps, the skin of his face shake and the way he desperately tried to keep himself quiet… he looked so pathetic to himself, never seeing that side or noticing how much you made him that way just from the sight of you.

in a way… it turned him on, getting a better picture of what you’d see if you were to stand in this very bathroom. thoughts grappled through his visionary mind, his vision shooting towards different places in the bathroom, looking at the sink: how pretty you’d look, pants down your legs with him fucking up into you, your own eyes in the mirror, watching yourself getting fucked by him. or in the stall: your fingers clutching harshly at the stall’s door with his fingers deeply plunging itself inside of your cavern.

a million and one things infiltrated his desires until he couldn’t find himself to stop even after the first time he came onto the bathroom’s floor. his wrist burned with the consistent motion, after his cock hadn’t let up its hardness, moaning as quietly as he could to have himself go limp.

thirty minutes he spent in there… and for him to be known to cum quick… it only meant that he rung himself dry. he couldn’t even walk straight— you knowingly understanding the weight of power you had over him after you timed his absence and him finally waddling back into his chair.

“you alright?” you laugh sweetly, being as oblivious as you could possibly be within his perspective, trying not to stare at the small wet spot that circled at his crotch.

“yeah…” his voice trembling, still in a daze from his multiple orgasms, “must’ve ate something funny…”

after that day… jerking off in the office’s bathroom, there was no turning back— as if that was the only reason that would’ve been true. there was no way he’d be able to contain the continuous passion that resonated all throughout his body— as if you talked to him through your idle.

days would pass and he’d show himself more and more obvious, losing the care to show off his usual persona. he’d take one of your handkerchiefs you left on your desk when you hadn’t been around, tucking them in his pockets only to inhale the left over scent that interwoven itself into its soft cloth, using it almost every night until all he could smell was his own scent. he’d hold onto your wrist when trying to grab your attention, clutching it until he felt the gentle pulse, syncing with the growing hard on he’d feel build and tighten at the crotch of his pants.

on random days, he’d listen when you spoke to other’s about the dates you’ve been on, hearing how they werent satisfying you— filling his brain with possible ways he’d make you feel good. taking you out to eat with good food and wine with an even better conversation only to have him balls deep inside of you just for you to remember nothing from anyone in your past and only form yourself at the outline of his cock.

on a sunny afternoon, you had a held a party for your birthday— all the coworkers you found as friends, including james— in your house for drinks, food and good music. you kept your eye on him as much as you could without making it obvious that the only reason for the party was to see how he’d react now being so close to you.

he showed nothing but nervousness, almost never leaving the cushions from your couch, not even drinking or eating for that matter. he looked uncomfortable… or maybe he was just deep in thought. it only took one look away for him to disappear, his lack of person and the indent of where he sat on the couch to be shown.

james decided he needed more… that handkerchief wasn’t enough since your scent was gone and his imaginations made his want physically hurt considering he wasn’t able to touch you like he wished he could.

finding his way to your room, he rummaged through your dirty laundry, finding a pair of black panties, keeping it to himself. in a cold sweat, he knew that he had time to spare, whipping his head back and forth from the cloth towards your bedroom door before he sat on your bed, rolling his thumb at the crotch of your underwear.

deep and staggered breaths, he rose it up to his nose, smelling the soiled cloth, noticing how these pair must’ve been worn during your arousal, his cock reacting like wildfire— choking at the lack of air he gave himself from the constant huffing he did. each inhale was like heaven. god… your pussy smelt so good… better than he could imagine. the muscle of his tongue sliding at the left over cream marks left, his moans staggering, almost in need of crying at how good this action made him feel.

placing the underwear in his mouth, he grabbed what was closest to him— your pillow— angling his body to get himself off. luckily with how loud the music had been outside, no one would be able to hear the brash creeks of your bed as he humped himself to oblivion. hips snapping, fingers curling into your bed’s unmade sheets with his face planted deep within them as he sniffed whatever your body’s scent leftover.

this is what he wanted… this is what he feened for. only orgasming once, he fixed your bed trying to replicate as if he had never been on it, tucking the panties… and one more in his pants pocket and walking out of your bedroom.

met with him, you smiled, noticing the lust that fumed off of his person, not making it seem as if you knew, “what’re you doing in there? the parties out there silly.” you laughed.

“yeah! i was just looking for the bathroom.” he gulped.

nodding, you ran your tongue over the bottom of your lip, eyeing how his hair wasn’t as neat as it had been before and his shirt wasn’t tucked in as it usually was. “it’s just down there.”

“thank you.” scattering down the hall.

upon entering your room, all you could smell was the foreign aroma of his arousal, smiling at how you didn’t even had to do anything to him physically let alone verbally and he got so worked up. riddled with temptation, you knew you had this man wrapped around your finger, obliging with his action and giving him more with your seductive nature.

it was more noticeable now— how you both operated whenever with each other. anyone could just sense it, feel it, cut it in the thickening air of their razor nails. the body languages, the way you both spoke, the way your eyes spoke with extreme intent.

the tingling sensation rose within your body, almost electrifying you whenever you heard your name being called by him— his natural rasp that croaked from his throat, huddling over your eardrums with bliss. you could only guess what he did that day when he bolted off into the bathroom. it was obvious. feeling your attraction grow by his attentiveness and the willingness of him trying so desperately to be beside you… just thinking about him got you so worked up.

it was fun witnessing his obvious need to separate himself just to get off… but the poor boy needed solace you thought to yourself.

he was being such a good boy, trying so hard not to put himself onto you, being respectful enough, kind and excusing himself but you decided to take charge— have him finally able to get what he wanted and what you were curious about.

one night, you took that advantage as everyone else had dispersed from the office, it had only been you two, him hunched in his chair, face glowing from his computer screen and you packing all of your work to go home. he usually stayed overtime, having his own set of keys the boss left because of his repetitive stay.

now you stood within his space, the office dark, a low hum coming from james not even noticing your silhouette that stood just at his cubicle. “you going home?” you spoke out, your voice lulling out.

startled, he turned at his chair, swallowing down the large lump that rested at his throat. “oh!” he chirped, looking back and forth at the shadow that made up of you and his computer screen. “uh not yet… there’s some things i have to finish.”

“could it wait? just for a little?”

furrowing his eyebrows, he sat confused, noticing the tone of your voice, feeling his palms dampen, rubbing them roughly at his pant legs.

oh how cute he was acting.

“sorry i..” he chuckled nervously, “im confused.”

sucking at your tongue, you stepped forward, the screen’s light falling at your outline, exposing the lust that mixed in with the devious expression that wore on your face. “don’t give me that look,” you cooed, closing the distance between you both until your feet planted themselves just before him. “tell me, what has you still in this office this late at night?”

“uhm yeah…” he chuckled again, his words slow as he spoke about the finishing touches of a project that had been due in a few days. quite honestly, you hadn’t cared much to know, you just enjoyed the random inhales of breath in between his words as he tried to keep his composure at bay.

“such a good man you are. i take it your work ethic is better than all of us combined?”

he cleared his throat, tilting his head in nervousness at the choice of words that trickled down, aiming at his spine with him tensing in his chair. “th… thank you.”

“but you should take a break, you seem all pent up. that isn’t healthy, don’t you think?”

“what do you purpose?” he asked with you humming in response.

the silence between that fell in the air was loud, burning against your eardrums until you heard his breathing coming in shallow wheezes, his chest tightening as his heart hammered at his ribcage. he couldn’t even look at you… his head couldn’t lift itself from his hands, fingers tangling with themselves.

“can you look at me?” you soothed.

no response was given, just the raise of his body at every heavy inhale.

“look at me james…” your voice now coming out as a whisper, using your hand to curl at his jaw, feeling the roughness of the stubble that ran alongside it. at a gentle lift, his face rose, his eyes staggering to follow until you saw the gentle, puppy-eyed man lock himself onto you. “that’s it..”

at the tilt of his head, his body hiccuped in a trickling gasp. every memory of him being by himself, jerking his hardening cock, the sounds of his own pleasuring cries echoed in his brain. it burned at his cheeks with a peach strain— embarrassed but enamored by the sway of your lulling voice and kind eyes. the cold that emitted from your hand felt like static, almost foreign, unable to comprehend that you where here, actually touching him and it wasn’t just his perverted mind conjuring up a scene of you having your way with him.

just by your simple touch, it felt raw and ravenous—body stiffening like tainted brittle bones… his spine slowly contorting in a fidgeting arch, like christ himself pressed his jellied pierced palms across the flesh of an aching wound. “fuck…” he breathed, giving up on his lose of current reality, placing his own hand on top of yours, sliding it more onto his own face. he buried himself in it, eyes closing, falling into a blissful state, feeling the warmth that blossomed and coddled at his skin.

his mind and his body was starved… in need of you as if the only sin he knew was nothing but greed— believing the palms of your hands was magic, a bandage to a scab, an antidote to a sickness. you did nothing but stand there, watching him revel in pleasure just from your hand now stroking his face slowly and delicately, admiring the sweet yet sorrowful pout drawn at his lips.

“follow my words.” you spoke, interrupting the silence between you both, “can you do that for me james?”

his eyes dilated, feeling his stomach drop hearing his name being called. it drove him mad and it only was because of your voice— so gentle and sweet, thick as if he could gnaw on it. “yes…” he finally answered.

standing behind him, you let the pressure of your hands massage his back, feeling the tension reside in his shoulders. you could feel his irregular breathing at every push your fingers gave, knuckles whitening at the clutch of his pant legs. “oh wow you’re so tense… why is that?”

“just… all the work is getting to me.”

“yeah?” your voice obvious in sensuality, hearing his grunt when you let the pressure fall a little rougher. a quiet exchange of noises bounced back and forth with comforting and pent up sighs, spending a good few minutes, trailing your hands down the sides of his arms, “you’re pretty built underneath this suit.” you teased.

clenching his eyes tight, he screamed at himself internally, trying to speak to his cock to not harden but it failed, looking down at his lap and seeing what the computer’s light was able to show, letting out a quiet laughing hum. you had him now…

“stand… and kiss me.”

and so he stood, his arms awkwardly at his sides, broadcasting his awful posture as he waited for your next move. from a simple swift movement, your hand met with the back of his neck, pulling him in, pressing your lips against his. the sync of your lips were soft and slow but quickly it changed by the lead of his tongue that cascaded along the bottom of yours, inhaling the hitching breath as his fingers played with the bottom of his suit jacket.

gentle grunts hummed against your flesh, opening your lips to oblige by his speed, noting the way he drank your existence in the exchange of your mouths. his tongue fluttered against yours, rolling the tip of his muscle against the ridges of your teeth, spit spilling down one another’s chins as your bodies fell closer into one another feeling the pattern of your breathing fall as one.

your leg pressed in the middle of his, feeling his bulge rub against you with a higher pitched moan being a gift of your sudden embrace.

the air was hot and heavy despite the chill from the office that hugged you both, "ride it.." you moaned in between the kiss, moving your leg in slow grinds, feeling the heat that emitted from his clothed cock weave through your work pants.

“okay…” he answered back, removing himself from the kiss as his hips started to buck forward in motion with your leg’s movement.

his body couldn’t keep up with the burning passion that continued to spread through his body, starting with the aching sensation that rested at his cock.

no words had been exchanged, only moans as if it that was the only language you both understood— the lack of light only being laminated by the moon that fell through the windows and the computer screen. your hand strengthened its grip, foreheads pressed against one another, feeling his leg fall in between your leg in the midst of his grinds.

both of you fell in lust with the eager grinds you shared, hearing the rut of clothes being rubbed against one another, his unknowing hands, placing its purpose at your hips, gripping incredibly tight, pulling you closer at every hungered thrust, your eyes gulping the color of his.

he moved his body, you whining quietly at the empty feeling of his knee. he dropped down, leveling his face at your legs, pressing kisses starting at your ankle and to your knee, moving his lips as his tongue peaked through, letting spit form and absorb in the cloth of your pants until he reached your waist.

"may i...?” he whimpered, a smile curling at your lips, nodding with his fingers making its way to your shirt, yanking it upwards which made you gasp at the sudden movement. he continued his kiss, the cold inhale of his breath washing against your skin as he pressed his lips at the lining of your peaking underwear, running his tongue alongside it.

with a deep press of his lips, he left wet marks, pressing his face into your stomach, his head dragging all the way up your torso, inhaling the sweet smell of your detergent as well as the soap that coated your skin, until he stood once again, finding your neck, taking a bite without much warning— feeling the flesh sink between the spaces in his teeth. 'so soft', he thought, letting his lips latch and suck roughly, as he used his unoccupied hand to pull your body closer to him.

his tongue rippled and rolled against the aching bitten part of your neck, popping himself off before he pressed a kiss at the hem of your ear, "is this real?" he whispered, pressing more kisses at the side of your face. it felt prosperous, feeling his lips scatter the smooth surface of your face, neck and ear— fingers prodding the side of your waist.

"can you say it… please?” releasing a sharp gasped whisper, his nose dragging along your cheek, sighing out a moan. "say…my name... i need to hear your voice.”

"james..." you exhaled, enjoying the way he wanted nothing but your time and your attention. he made you feel sexy.. desirable, like his own drug that he was unable to let go or take control of. every touch felt purposeful, hungry… soft with a strain of roughness.

"no... louder. say it... please say it louder." his words breathless, cracking each time his voice dipped in register, letting open mouthed kisses to gently press onto your skin.

"james!" your voice rose, saying it over and over at every press of his lips you felt, his moans talking back to each time he heard his name flutter from your throat. your voice felt like it was running down his spine and settling itself right at his cock. you adored how cute he was without even knowing that you wanted to devour him— the sharp want to have him crumble in your embrace.

“fuck..” he cried sweetly, his voice breaking down in harmony. you placed your hands at his shoulders pushing him down as he obeyed your forceful action, him now on his knees.

without a thought, you pressed the bottom of your shoe at his obvious bulge, pressing your weight on it, his body shuddering with his lips ajar. “tell me…” your diction sounding breathless, feeling the outline of him through the sole of your shoe, “do you think of me… while you touch yourself.” his eyes growing, surprised and slightly worried— not as if it wasn’t telling he came at the thought of you.

he couldn’t answer, only giving a harsh swallow and swiveling hips, humping into the sole of your shoe.

“come on pretty boy… answer… i know you do it.”

“yes…” he gulped, “i do… i do. all the fucking time.” he admitted, his words flowing fast with his hips coming at the same speed.

placing your foot down on the floor, he immediately straddled, hands grabbing onto your calf for support as his hips rippled and rutted deeply into you like a horned dog. whimpers roared through the office’s enclosure. he felt dizzy, drunk within the lust that spewed between you both. it was pitiful but cute— losing all forms of self just to hump on your shoe.

grasping his jaw, he looked up at you, eyebrows knitted in pleasure as his hair bounced in movement, leaning down the gather spit, letting it fall into his opened mouth. he drank it instantaneously, nodding at the new action he had never done before. your spit tasted sweet, filling his mouth with an extended tongue in need of more.

and so you did, this time more forceful, some falling at the side of his lip, falling down his jaw and chin.

something about how he acted, the way he presented himself and the way his nervousness wore him so brightly. you could hear it his voice, in his moans, see in his eyes, face and body— nothing he had in display for you showed you otherwise. cupping the side of his face as your thumb gently stroked the warmth of his cheek, making his cock jump more than it already had.

“you like that don’t you baby?”

“uh huh…” he breathed, frantically nodding, letting his eyes drape towards your lips, seeing his tongue peak through, pressing your thumb at his plush lips, dragging them loosely, until his lips would tug, allowing his teeth to peak through before leaning in closer to his until being inches apart— irregular breathing brush against your mouth, as his nose nudges gently the side of yours, kissing you roughly… wet and raw. more spit escaping, coating all over.

“can i…” he spoke in between, “can i taste you?”

and with an accepting moan, his body rose, grabbing you until you sat on his desk, the light of his computer now black and the moon being the only source of light.

opening your legs, he leaned in, his middle finger ran between your clothed, wet slit. raising his head, he looked down at you, “holy fuck… how’re you so wet? i can feel it through your pants,” he taunted, gaining a small glint of confidence.

he lifted your shirt once more, just enough to show your full stomach as he held onto your waist, pressing his lips right beneath your breast, leaving slow, teasing kisses down your body with his eyes staring right up at you. his face met up in between, spreading your thighs apart more as he let his face set right in center, pressing his nose right in the indention where his finger once was, inhaling your sweet smell before rolling his tongue over her clothed pussy. “your pussy smells so sweet.” he breathed, his fingers curling at your pants and yanking them down until you were only left with them puddled at your feet and panties hugging your waist.

his mouth latched onto your clit, slowly sucking you right over your panties, feeling your throbbing bud feather against his tongue.

sliding your panties to the side, he saw the wetness connect from your pussy lips, to your clit, running all down your slit, immediately spreading your lips apart, seeing your whole view.

“so… pretty... god i wanna fuck it with my tongue. have my tongue so deep inside you, i can feel you clench yourself. can i… can i do that?” his eyes not leaving your face, seeing the limited and minimal expression the moon’s light allowed him to see, letting his tongue run up your slit as his mouth latches on.

nothing felt more pleasurable than to see the other pleased. his fingers trembled and ached to take you all in one go, but he believed you deserved more than that, you deserved to feel it run through every inch of your body. he wanted to prove that there’s levels you could reach that’ll make you feel like ecstasy.

his body burned as if he was on fire, feeling himself twitch at every small sound that exuded from your throat. “your voice, it turns me on so fucking much...” gripping onto your thighs, his nose nudging at your clit, mouth hovering over your cunt, drawing ribbons at the entrance of your pussy. he shook his head from side to side, your sweet scent filling his airway as he felt your slick coat the sides of his lips and the tip of his nose.

his tongue plunging itself into you, feeling your cunt pulsate alongside the bud of your clit. as his tongue worked along your slit and hole, repeatedly lapping at each entrance with the flat of their tongue. your scent and flavor enveloping his entire face, like a drug, and erotic perfume that he’d gladly wear if possible. his eyes drooping into a squint, his body loosening— expect the core of his tightening abdomen from holding his breath and their increasingly hard cock. thrusting his face as he began to fuck you with his tongue, hollowing his cheeks, continuing to pay close attention to your clit. pulling back, he licked his lips, gathering spit as he spat right on your cunt, followed by a little slap, rubbing with the palm of his hand against the new tingling sensation, “was that… was that too much?” he slurred, not thinking of the impact of what he had just done with the pleasured yelp you let out.

“you’re such a dirty boy…” you laughed, your hips breaking down as it planted itself more into his desk. “keep going… show me what a horny little thing like you thinks about while you touch yourself.”

drunk of you— the taste, the smell, he could feel a pit of sensation fuel right at the bottom of his abdomen. “hump my face baby, please…use me.”

with his tongue, he lifted your clitoral hood, centering his tongue right at your clit as he fluttered it as fast as his tongue allowed him too, feeling your expose bud jolt. using his other hand, he slid one finger in, curling it slightly as he slowly let it slide in and out, feeling your walls close. the sounds you let out couldn’t be controlled, admiring how he used your body like an art piece, finding his way to use every fragment of your being, getting off to your pleasure. each knuckle falling deeper, as he started to bring up his pace. so wet, you could hear it at each pump, and god did that turn him on. “listen to your pussy baby. my god you’re so wet..”

loving the feeling of your fingers that now laced in his hair, tugging at it whenever you felt so, feeling the tingle wash from down his scalp and spine, making him groan deeply against your, feeling it almost itch his own throat. his other hand pressing firmly against your stomach, rolling it up your body as he dragged the pads of his fingers down your torso, then thigh, letting them create small indentions in your smooth skin.

he watched as you squirmed as you watched how pathetically invested he looked hooked in pleasure— him yearning for this type of attention, as if he cried for it. his eyes begged and begged, his actions looking less and less sense and out of touch of reality. your hips, not having a rhythmic move to them, just rolling and humping as his face kept up with your sloppy hips.

he slide one more finger inside, curling that one as well as his others as he turned his wrist in a circular motion, almost drilling your cunt, pushing it in and out, trying to find your sweet spot. he lifted his head, letting a string of spit and slick connect from his lips and your pussy. “keep looking at me… please don’t stop.” the sting burning at his forearm— veins now prominent running from his fingers and down wrist. your pussy making the most loudest and obnoxious noise, syncing with the pacing of his hand and mouth.

his face traveled up, his face now hovering yours, paying close attention to your expression and the way you moaned for him, furrowing his eyebrows, “yeah? does it feel good right there?” he cooed, singing with your moans which filled the space that surrounded you both. he gathered spit in his mouth once more, letting it go straight into your mouth— your hand out of his hair and to his face, holding his jaw and feeling the grooves of his teeth by how hard you held it.

“god you’re so good for me.” you grunted, eyes almost rolling at the feeling of his fingers plunging at your cunt.

gritting through his teeth, “and you drive me insane…” pressing his mouth against yours once more as he started to sloppily kiss you— your slick already coating his mouth and tip of his nose, now swallowing your moans. his breathing was erratic and his demeanor changed, feeling a sense of lustful malice grow in his body.

hurriedly, you undid his pants, slipping your hand in his underwear, taking out his hot heavy cock, his body immediately reacting with his hand holding the desk beside you for support. without hesitation, you jerked his cock, finding the same speed of his plunging fingers.

shared and eager moans radiated from you both, whiny and pathetic, desperate and conjoined— the sweet sounds of your wet slick and his skin being tugged at his cock.

“don’t stop.” he strained, already feeling himself in need to release, never being one to last longer than he wished to.

spit dripping from one another’s mouths, the tension continued to rise, the familiar sensation cradling at your core as well as his. clenching around his fingers, your thighs started to close themselves, him quickly opening them as he breathed in a choked gasp.

“are you gonna cum for me?” you teased, knowing you were right where he was, his body twitching as he nodded in response, “cum for me… do it james.”

a loud groan crept as he removed your hand, replacing it with his as he jerked his cock in a speed you had never seen from another man, directing his slit right at your clit. spurts of his cum fell right at your clit, the sight being too much for you to handle— the head from it, sliding down to his fingers as he continued his hungered pumps, an orgasm ringing around it. it creamed thickly, white cuddling at his knuckles.

both of your bodies fell weak, the speed now resting slow as you tried to gather your breaths, eyes connecting as one as you recollected all the passion that infiltrated.

“my god…” you breathed, his fingers coating in your natural nectar and his cum, inhaling your womanly scent which sent waves of pleasure directly towards his cock that started to rise again. god… did he love the way your fucking pussy smelt. it didn’t compare to your handkerchief… your bed… even your used panties. his fingers slipping out as he placed them in his mouth, each finger being sucked clean. “you’re so fucking hot…”

the intensity that fueled you both was too much to comprehend. no words being able to be spoken— james blinded by the beauty and the smell of sex that fumed in the air. after all the days of him tugging his cock, the thoughts became real.

his face hovered yours, hands cupping your cheeks as he pressed gentle kisses across your lips, “can i...” he gasped in between each kiss, heavy air pushing through his nostrils as he tried desperately not to pass out from the adrenaline and the need to feel you, overwhelm you and just make you cum from his dick. “can i fuck you…? please… please… please please please please please…” his voice cracking in between.

the need that laced in your whine transmitted through the thick of his burning skin. it was hard to contain steady breathing. mine, he thought. you were all his for the night, and it signified that you were in this very moment.

lips feathering against your chin, each kiss longer than the last, with his nose nudging up into your cheek. just from the quiet sounds you let out, your consent, your ‘okay’ to put his dick inside of you made the way he felt more intense than it already had. his fingers wrapping around the start of his shaft as he started to pump himself.

“you can tell me if you want me to fuck you slow…” he continued, cupping his hand to his lips and spitting in it, making a small puddle to coat his dick. “or if you want me to fuck you fast… tell me… tell me to keep fucking you… tell me… just talk for me… please.”

his eyes jolted down as his cock angled itself right at your opening pushing himself inside. just half of what would be his tip, focused only on you. sucking in harshly at how big he was and how he wasn’t even all the way in. with his other hand cupping the side of your face and neck, his thumb rubbing gently.

“you okay baby…?” his attention still on you, analyzing each expression you gave to make sure that he wasn’t hurting you in any shape or form, pressing a long kiss at the side of your cheek beside your ear, “im going to keep going okay…? just breathe for me…”

they pushed more, his tip fully being in your cunt. his body shuttered… you were so warm, you were tight and held him so comfortably, if you wanted him to stop right there, it’d be enough for him to cum. anything for you was enough for him. bodies slowly enveloping on another as he tried to talk to your body in a way that gave you comfort and pleasure. “more?” he breathed, it hitching as he mindlessly held his breath, pushing more of himself into you— your hot walls holding around the start of his shaft, textured and wet, with a heartbeat that almost felt as if you were sucking him in without his go.

a pornographic moan being spewed from james’ lips. the way your cunt grasped onto him, it's textured walls massaging his cock into heaven. you felt full, his dick thick— leaning towards girth— your breathing picking up in pace. you molded his cock perfectly, his hips slowly pressing himself deeper until his hole cock was enveloped in you. "goo...good boy." you tried to praise, hiccuping as your hands fell onto his shoulders.

the thrust started off slow, hiccuping almost similar to his rut against your shoe. it took a few thrusts until he finally was able to find himself— barely. each inward thrust, the desk shook, your body sliding upwards against his paperwork that scattered and crumpled.

“is this… is this okay?” his voice broken, hearing the new diction in his tone.

“faster… don’t be shy…”

you didn’t have to tell him twice, his hips momentarily stopping as he planted his feet firmly on the ground— animalistic groans combating the way his hips started to snap. each thrust, your rear puckering hole was abused by james’ balls. again and again, the loud rhythmic sound of your skin slapping. "good boy, keep fucking me. make me cum."

the tip of his dick angling in a place you were unsure about. what was this? you thought. your body was excited and you didn't know why— you didn't know how to prepare yourself. your body unable to stay still or find a place where you felt the best in stabilization, screaming his name as he finally hit that spot, your good spot.

"don't stop! don't stop! don't stop! don't—" you chanted, him hitting your g spot over and over with your pussy sucking him in deeper and deeper at each outward thrust.

"i wish i fucked you sooner, why does this feel so good?!" already having the need to cum with no intention of holding it.

you as well. you needed to cum, but you felt something new as well. the similarly feeling of you needed to 'go'.

"waitwaitwaitwait!!!" you moaned out loud, his cock slipping out with an unexpected gift being brought to both of you. you squirted. it spilling from your cunt and drenching on the both of you— your face, his work clothes and your work clothes. you had no time to react, your legs violently shook, with james hurriedly slipping in again with the same need to release centering at the opening of your cunt.

"ineeedto... i... fuhhhcking" you slurred, eyes rolling each time james pulled out, your pussy let out small spurts of your squirting cum.

"that is so fucking hot... you're so hot." james cried, tears rimming in his eyes, feeling himself having the need to cum.

one leg wrapped his waist pushing him down, rolling your hips upward even though it was all too much, but your cunt wanted more, it felt like it could cum at least one more time. grabbing your face, your lips forming a squished 'o'.

"fuck...fucking good boy." your voice fucked out.

"it feels too good… i can’t take it." he continued to wail, tears started to stream down his face. "im gonna—" he announced with one finally thrust, james let his hot load rest deep inside you.

one could say his dream was now complete, but a new question shall be asked; how will this continue? from being ‘friends’, horny individuals to fuck at work. but for now, you both continued to calm down from your high, kissing each other sweetly.

“this won’t be the last time.” you smiled triumphantly, trying to catch your breath.

a/n: i never know how to end these… but maybe there will be another part…

[greengoblinswifey]

Symbol of Love— Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— based off sofia and rafe’s cute moment in s4 ep 9 so slight spoilers. rafe is on mission to catch groff and he gives you something to treasure before he leaves.

warnings— spoilers, fluff, mentions of death.

a/n— saw the scene and immediately decided to write this, my heart is melting omg ugh that should be me and him. these new batch of episodes have been such a roller coaster, can’t wait to finish and see how everything plays out <3

Rafe’s hands were tense as walked around the sand, jaw tight as he tried to process what he’d just learned. Chandler Groff had stolen his money, and he boated off the island. You leaned against the tree, eyes wide as you tried to absorb the news. Hollis’ death had hit you harder than you let on, and whispers were circulating that JJ Maybank might have been involved. Nothing felt certain anymore, but what you did know was that Rafe had always been the one constant—until now.

“Okay, but listen,” Rafe said, his voice sharp and urgent. “Unless I catch up with Groff now, that money is long gone.”

“Where is he, Rafe?” you asked, your heart pounding. You didn’t want him to go, especially not alone, but you knew you couldn’t stop him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he muttered, his gaze fixed somewhere past you. “I’ll track him down. I’ll get it all back.” There was a steely resolve in his voice, a familiar determination that reminded you of just how far he would go to keep what was his.

But before he could take off, he turned to you, his eyes softening just and took a deep breath. “I want to say something first.”

You opened your mouth, the confession about Hollis and everything that happened burning on your tongue. “Rafe, I- I need to tell you something too.”

Before you could finish, he startled you by dropping to one knee, pulling out a beautiful ring from his pocket. Your heart skipped a beat, and suddenly you felt like the world was spinning.

He held it up to you, his gaze never leaving yours. “It was my mom’s,” he said softly, his voice breaking just slightly. “Been in my family forever. I know it’s some kook bullshit, but I just- I wanted you to have it before I left. So you’d know this, us- we’re real.”

“Rafe, wait,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I- I did something. It’s about Hollis. There’s more I didn’t tell you—”

He cut you off, shaking his head and cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “Don’t. There’s things about me you don’t know. And trust me, they’re way worse than anything you could say. I don’t care what you did, and I don’t care to know.” His voice softened, but his eyes stayed intense. “I want you, and that’s all that matters to me.”

You could barely breathe, tears leaving your eyes and he slipped the ring on your finger, his eyes pleading.

You were crying now, overwhelmed by the depth of his acceptance. You could feel his hands tremble as he slid the ring onto your finger. “Say yes,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “There’s no more pogue bullshit, okay? No more of that. I want you to quit that job and move in with me.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a promise, and you nodded, barely able to find your voice. “Yes, Rafe.”

He smiled, relief flooding his face as he pulled you into a kiss, his hands cradling your face as if you were something fragile he had to hold onto. You kissed him back, fingers curling into his jacket, your tears mixing with his warmth.

When you pulled away, he pressed a key into your palm, closing your fingers over it. “It’s to the house. I’ll be back in a few weeks. Stay there for me, okay? At my—no, our place.”

He brushed a kiss across your forehead, and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” And with one last look, he turned, walking toward his boat as you watched him go.

The salty breeze whipped around you, and you looked down at the ring, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. It was beautiful and strange, the symbol of a life you were about to share with him, a life you’d always dreamed of. You traced the ring with your thumb, marveling at its age, its history, a part of him that would stay with you even as he left.

Tears blurred your vision as he boarded the boat, but you stood there, rooted, until he was nothing but a speck on the horizon, clutching the key and the promise he’d left behind.

As you watched Rafe disappear over the horizon, a wave of fear washed over you, heavier than the ocean air around you. You knew how dangerous Groff could be, how far he was willing to go to keep what he’d stolen. And now, Rafe was chasing him down. Your heart twisted, the thought of something happening to him tugging at every corner of your mind. But then you shook yourself, forcing the doubt back. Rafe was tough, stronger than anyone you knew. He could handle himself. He’d be okay.

He’d come back.

You took a deep breath, letting the thought settle over you like a warm blanket. He’d come back, and when he did, you’d spend the rest of your lives together. There would be reward, there would be sunshine after the storm. Your love, this wild, all-consuming love, could survive anything. It had to. Everything was going to be okay.

You glanced down at the ring he’d placed on your finger, feeling its weight, its history pressing against your skin like a quiet promise. Your fingers tightened around the key in your other hand, holding onto it as if it could anchor you to this moment, to him. This key was a piece of him, a piece of your future together, the home you’d share, the life you’d build once he returned.

With one last look out at the horizon, you whispered a silent promise of your own. Then you turned back holding the ring and the key close to your heart, holding onto the hope that soon, he’d be back in your arms.

[thecameronchronicles]

Once A Year In Nassau

TW: Public sex. Hair pulling. Dirty talk. Raw sex.

SUMMARY: Tradition sparks a new need between you and Rafe. Something more permanent than your current arrangement.

Once A Year in Nassau

He pouts into his hand, thinking about everything else he could be doing right now other than sitting across from his father and Rose at yet another silent dinner where he is ignored. Sarah doesn't have to put up with it and Wheezie is at camp somewhere back home.

"Cameron!" A raspy introduction projects his eyes upwards as the first flicker of hope for excitement is reinstated through his veins. But it isn't for the man shaking hands with his father as they discuss the time apart. It is for the girl following him.

You.

You're appearance has changed; your hair a bit lighter and cut an inch or two shorter from last time, your skin still needing to be the same tan it was when you said your goodbyes last summer, but your smile to him was blinding and unwaivering.

"And look at Y/N, even more of a stunner every time I see you." Ward offers as Rose kisses your cheeks but your eyes stay on Rafe. It's long enough to see the anger behind his clenched jaw before you offer an awkward nod to appear unaffected. In truth, you are both bubbling inside for a moment alone and as you are invited to join their dinner, it seems it might never happen.

"Excuse me." You manage between your father and Ward's conversation, your eyes flicking up to Rafe as if to hint some silent invitation but you see him glaring at his drink. You sigh, knowing exactly the reason for the scowl but disappear for a reprieve anyhow.

The layout of the resort is luxurious with an open concept to all but that of the bathrooms. It is the only place where one could mutter and not be heard and it's what leads you there. You slip away behind the door and cool your heated skin at the thoughts of last summer.

On the beach, in Rafe's arms, as he playfully throws you into the water before diving behind you. Later beneath the stars as he makes you call to God as you grip the seamless sand beneath as it forfeits support between your fingers.

The summer before that in the supply closet on the second floor as he came off of an argument from his father.

Since the first kiss that initial summer, it had become a tradition of sorts to be lost in each other. Each goodbye more painful, each morning after feeling impossible to breathe. Now finding him still affected by the weight of the Cameron name, all you wished for was to have a summer you didn't have to make it only a memory with him.

"You're back." His voice forces your eyes to him within the hallway as you can't help but pull your neck to ache at just how he towers over you. Summer and time is always kind to him, only now the beautiful sadness behind his eyes has amplified to a permanent existence that pulls at your heart.

"You're so-" Sad? Handsome? Unforgettable? The adjective is lost on your tongue as he takes you against him. Stronger than last time, he pushes you against the wall between the assigned restrooms until you can feel how rigid he's become for you.

"You're the only thing that makes me feel right, Y/N." He pleads between kisses, the taste of his vices on the tip of his tongue lost to the heat of the same muscle wrapped around your own.

"Then let me..." You pull him into the bathroom and lock the door. Decorated in affluence, a couch conveniently lay in wait. You set him in the center and pull the skirt of your dress up high enough to get onto your knees.

"Oh fuck..." He groans as he watches you descend onto your knees for him. You finger his buckle until his button can be freed, releasing him to you as he flexes his hips so you can pull him out. The sight of him, already shiny with precum makes your mouth water.

"Yes..." He moans as you tease him. Long licks up his shaft before finally claiming him to the resistance of your throat. Breathing deeply, you commit him deeper until he's gripping the couch.

"Oh baby...just like that. You know just how to suck me, don't you?" You nod, your new manicure threatening ruination by how you are gripping his thigh.

"Anyone else get to know how this feels? It's a long time to go without, ya know..." His eyes are hard while his jaw is slack as your tempo only increases as if your enthusiasm proves your conviction to him.

"Only you." You moan before he wraps your hair in his fist.

"I don't like when you change things. I like remembering it like last time. Don't do it again." He pumps himself into your throat as you take him in stride. Hollowed cheeks, you bask in the understanding of being used for his pleasure. Knowing exactly what it is he needs, you moan around him and feel him buck with abandon.

"Such a good little mouth for me, aren't you?" You nod, looking up through faulty mascara you know he loves to see run and the tearful eyes as the reason.

"Get the fuck on me." He tears you up by your hair until you're on his lap.

"Nobody else?" He rubs your exposed ass made available by the cut of your panties.

"You sure about that?" He rips it without much effort to the limited fabric there.

"You didn't let anyone else touch you? Hmm?"

"Nobody. I swear, Rafe. Nobody else has touched me or kissed me since our first summer-" He interrupts you with a kiss as his fingers draw figure eights throughout your folds until you're mindless.

"Show me you're mine. Ride my hand until you drip down my rings." You feel the cold metal he references against your thigh before the length of his sturdy fingers enter.

"Oh-" He uses his second hand over your mouth.

"Nobody else gets to hear you either. Got it?" He leaves a new rule every interaction and this is no exception.

"Yes-"

"Good. Now show me before I take what I want and or leave you unsatisfied for another year." You grip the couch at his back and use his hand, two dedicated fingers curved at your g-spot, as you moan.

"That's my girl-" He huffs in a guttural groan, his head against your chest as he breathes in the scent identifiable to only you. His words are interrupted by the force of your lips demanding his attention. As you kiss, your tongues intertwine for taste and need, until you end up biting and sucking on it.

"I need you on my cock. Right fucking now." Whatever separates you is pulled away before he hoists you up and levels himself inside of you. You've felt him in enough familiarity to know it will stretch you, a feeling he echoes as he groans to the intimacy of it.

"I need this." He grips your ass before bouncing you onto him.

"And these-" he uses his other hand to expose your breasts, naked sans a bra. His name is your only breath as he takes his time nibbling and sucking, his hands otherwise devoted to your curves and ass.

"Deeper." He orders as you turn for him, surprising him as he watches you take him reverse cowgirl. Only this is still not enough. You bend forward, hands on the small carpet before you, as you curve for him.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N-"

"Hold my hair-" You gasp at the grip he makes.

"On my God, Y/N. Your ass," he squeezes it before swatting it hard enough to leave a red mark behind. "Your-fuck! I need this..." One hand on your hair, the other draws a line of his trimmed nails down your spine until he has you in a grip.

"You want it like this? You want me to fill you up while you're bent over giving me this..." He stalls, searching for the right words. "this view?"

"Please Rafe. I've thought about how it will be all year." He pulls you up by your hair until your back rests against his chest. His fingers play with your clit as he moans against you.

"That's it. Oh fuck. Oh yeah baby...ohhh-" The door tries behind you as your thighs sore from the rise and fall of your muscles called into motion.

"Do. Not. Stop." He breathes with each thrust until you are unable to speak and high off of his need for you. He holds a hand around the sides of your throat, ensuring you can breathe while also holding you in place as the other palms your breasts.

"Open the door-" A woman's voice calls as Rafe pounds up into you, deeper than he's ever been.

"Make us come, baby. I'm not stopping until you're filled and shaking but I also don't want anyone else seeing you like this. So come-baby,"

"Open the-" The voice tries again.

"FUCK OFF!" Rafe calls out, dainty feet rushing away as he doubles his efforts, inspiring you to do the same. Wherever he has you pinned so you cannot move, you use small ministration to affect him. Clenching your inner walls until he can feel the flutter, he arches back in awe.

"Baby! That's good-Goddamn!" He groans into your neck as you shake uncontrollably. His fingers a rush against your clit unwind and prepare your orgasm as you feel it surge without warning.

"That's it, fucking come for me baby. You're gonna make me come-" He chokes out, his own pleasure coursing through him as he spills inside of you.

"Rafe..." You breathe as his hand remains on your throat as if he cannot begin to fathom the idea to release you. It takes you tapping his hand for his head to rise from your shoulder as his lips trace the skin there.

This is the part you loathe. The part that has gotten more difficult over the former exchanges.

"I-"

"Stay, Y/N."

"Rafe, I-"

"Please." His summons resonates into the marrow of your bones.

"I don't think-"

"Marry me." His words make you turn to face him and you see how there is no humor on his expression. Not the hauntingly soft yet intimidating eyes or the full lips spread in contentment.

"Marry me, Y/N."

MASTERLIST

A/N: I was thinking of possibly making this into a series. Any thoughts?

[zweiginator]

college!patrick corrupting you...you're study partners in your anthropology class and patrick loves to listen to you talk. loves to hear you explain concepts to him, pointing to your notes with your purple pen. scooting your chair closer to him.

"can you see now?" you show him the diagram you drew; it's labeled and highlighted and patrick smirks because you wrote his name in bubble letters on the top of the page.

your skin flushes. the broken air conditioning in your dorm made the early september heat unbearable enough. and now you're humiliated.

you cover it with your forearm but it's too late.

"what's all this?" patrick moves your arm easily. his finger traces over the P in 'patrick', adorned with a little heart.

you look up at him and shake your head. "we need to focus. it's nothing--i was bored in class."

patrick moves wherever your gaze is directed. he doesn't let you escape him. the small wooden chair he's sitting in skips and screeches across the linoleum floors, his knee bumping against yours so it sits snug between your legs.

"do you have a crush on me?" patrick asks. he's so confident, because he knows the answer already, and he could've guessed long before that too. not that you were overt before this--it's just the kind of person he is. attractive in its rawest form.

you do have a crush on him. but you're a virgin. you've never even kissed or been kissed.

"i guess a little." you say, softly.

your voice is low; patrick has to lean in to hear you. but his eyes look kind, a twinkly dark green. and he smiles at you; it's a grin that crinkles his eyes like soft tissue paper.

"is that bad?" you ask, uncomfortable from the lingering silence.

"no." he says it immediately. "have you ever made out before?" patrick adds. he says it like he's been waiting for it and you shake your head.

"fuck."

"sorry." you shrug.

patrick now shakes his own head. "what if i taught you? would that be okay?"

you're embarrassed that a boy this well-known will feel the struggle of your lips against his own experienced ones. he probably kisses like a well-oiled machine, pulling sweet moans out of girls like strawberry taffy and here you are, gulping. literally swallowing your own pride as you say yes please. as if you're ordering at a restaurant.

patrick moves to your bed and you sit next to him. you don't know what to do or where to look so you focus on your socks, how one is pulled taut, the other slouching against your ankle. and then patrick tilts your face towards his.

his breath smells good. peppermint and camel lights, you suppose. his lips are parted and so close to yours and you're about to lose your balance. your open palms grab onto patrick's thighs, just above his knees. he looks down and smirks. and then he tilts your chin up and plants a kiss on your lips. just one kiss. but his lips are wet and he prolongs the sound of them puckered over yours.

you feel a pit in your stomach. but it's a good feeling, a pit that reminds you of being on the beach and wanting to dig into the sand more and more until it collapses in on itself.

you close the gap this time, feeling his shoulders. they're so firm and broad under his white t-shirt. he opens his mouth wider. experiments with you. you inch closer to him and then you're pulled into his lap and his arm supports your back, his hand holding your chin in place while he licks into your mouth, prying it open with his tongue. he moans in approval when you start to move in sync with him; his lips wrap around your bottom lip while yours find their home on his top one--and he is being patient.

he's getting hard--really hard--but he takes it slow with you. this is just kissing. so he doesn't move you against his erection but you feel it and pride swells in your chest because your crush is kissing you and it feels so good.

it gets sloppier; his spit is melding with your own and as he pulls away to look at you, a string of it prolongs the kiss--but you don't let him pull away. you whine and pull him in by his collar. adjust yourself on his lap and he pulls you closer. impossibly closer.

he kisses you like he wants to eat you alive. your lip is bitten and raw and swollen from him and you mewl and moan when he gently pulls your hair. you pull his back and now he moans, just for you.

the sand pit in your stomach becomes a sinkhole and you feel a tingling sensation you've never felt before.

"this feels so good." you say, bluntly. your hair is a mess, and patrick's forehead is dewy with sweat.

"oh my god." patrick dives back into you at full force. your teeth almost clash, and you tug at the bottom of his shirt, feeling the tightness of his abs underneath and then he's pulling it over his head and even the one and a half seconds without his lips on yours feels like fucking torture for both of you.

your mouths stay open against each other, like even the widest they could go could never let each other in enough.

patrick starts to slip the strap of your tank top down your shoulder when your roommate comes in. you look at her wide-eyed, wiping patrick's spit off your face. he breathes heavily, leaning back on his elbows. sheer pink lip gloss pants his stubbled cheeks with iridescence.

he covers his erection with his t-shirt.

[ma1dita]

its 10pm again.... 😈😈

rivals with benefits Luke who makes everything a competition. even in bed. 😼

IM ALSO SO SORRY FOR FLOODING UR INBOX

MDNI

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

a/n: liv we're boxing because i literally could not rest until i got this right,,,, smut. public sex. wrap before you tap. creampie. all the nasty things. fuck man...

wc: 968

“That’s a point for me,” Luke says with a menacing grin. The both of you are soaked to the bone after paddling across Canoe Lake to see who could make it to the other end the fastest, and as you gasp for air while holding onto the wood post of the pier, you can’t help but somehow be convinced that he cheated.

“You’re built like a frog with those long legs of yours, how the fuck was I supposed to win?”

Daybreak spreads slowly across Camp Half-Blood, sunlight kissing where the sky meets the water and Luke thinks he wants to kiss you. Knows it, actually—deep down to his bones that the line between hatred and love must be lust.

He swims closer to you like a predator creeping toward his prey, wet curls stuck to his forehead as he admires how hard you’re breathing. You’re right there, and since you like to make a competition of everything from capture the flag strategies to how many campers you both can get to screech at nightly sing-a-longs, he thinks he has an offer you won’t be able to resist. Luke’s hands glide under your shirt as the both of you tread water, still fighting for dominance even when it comes to who takes up the most space to stay afloat. You lick your lips, fingers tugging at his camp necklace as you look at him curiously and raise an eyebrow.

“I’ve got an idea…”

“I’ll start my prayers,” you smirk, before seeing the hot burning want in his gaze. You can feel it in his fingers as they brush the underside of your breasts, nipples stiff in the frigid water. Shaking your head, a nervous giggle leaves you as your arms circle his neck, bodies separated by your thin, sopping nightshirt. If he touches the rest of you, he’ll find other parts that are wet too, warm enough to brave the chill of the morning breeze that settles upon your shoulders.

“The nymphs might see…” you whisper, even though the both of you know not a single soul is awake right now but time is running out like sand in an hourglass.

“You backing down?”

The kiss you press into his open mouth is a clear enough answer—tongues sliding and spearing against each other, hot and angry and bruising. It’s a fair shot, not knowing who’s going to come out on top.

—

“Oh, gods, please!”

Your hands and knees are scraping in the rocks and sand of the shoreline underneath the pier as Luke pistons into you at an alarming rate, each thrust a blow to your senses. He watches your head bob up towards the sky almost in reverent prayer and he’s grinning, continually sinking into your warmth while the rest of him shudders from the cold. Luke’s cock works inside your slick hole instead of against it, and he laughs at the irony of you finally letting him have his way. Your fingernails dig into the coarse beach, grains of sand making their way through every crevice as he fills your pulsing one with glee.

“Fucking knew you’d behave…” he grunts, one hand pulling at the thin cloth around your waist and the other holds onto your stomach so he can feel himself bludgeon you from the inside. “Can’t fight back when you’re getting your brains fucked out, hmm?” 

He watches your pretty tits swing from the stretched out opening of your soggy shirt as you choke out a sob of pleasure.

“Yes…f-fuck Luke,” you whine, reaching back to ease your hand against his abdomen but he pulls it behind your back to use as a better hold on you. Luke puts two of his fingers in your mouth and they prod at the skin of your cheek, spit dripping around the digits.

Despite the intrusion, you’re groaning loud enough over the icy smacks against your skin that for a moment he thinks it might actually wake the forest nymphs, but then he’s distracted by your pussy pushing and pulling him as his hips clap against your ass, leaving them raw for days to come. Light waves crash against the shore with your movements, splashing against your knees and you’re giggling at him with a dazed grin as you push your hips back harder against his thrusts, overpowering his control over you. 

He swallows thickly, groaning through the building sensation in his stomach as you rock back onto his cock faster and with the purpose of taking him down and winning. The both of you work in tandem as you writhe against each other in a battle to reach the end, unsure of if you’re with him or against him but gods, it feels so fucking good being under him.

“M’so close…Don’t fucking stop,” you shudder, and Luke shuts his eyes hard and takes a deep breath. Even if all 12 Olympians came down right now to smite him he wouldn’t be able to pull out. 

So he doesn’t. 

He couldn’t even if he tried—he cums so hard, his front meeting your back as you fall into the sand with a muffled yelp and he’s pumping thick rods of his release into your pussy. You shiver under him slightly until you realize your belly is warm from his efforts.

“That’s gotta be like 5 or 10 points,” Luke pants, nipping at your shoulder before he sits up. You’re laying there, ass up and motionless so he slaps a cheek before you start laughing.

“For me. At least you came,” you drone, having been on the brink of an orgasm.

He couldn’t argue with that. So he flips you onto your back and eats you out (sand and slick and all) until he’s ready again and by the time the morning bell rings, you’ve both lost track of who’s won your so-called competition.

[patscorner]

date with paige. 😛

I gotchu!

End Game

Summary: Paige takes you on a date for your two year anniversary.

wc: 1,971

Contains: fluff, suggestive if you squint

kinda lost it towards the end, but I hope you like it

______________________________

“Can I open my eyes now?” You ask for the 100th time, and for the 100th time, Paige responded the same: “No.”

“Aw, come on! You’re killing me!” You sigh comically loud. Paige laughs and shakes her head. “Baby, that ruins the surprise. Tha-”

You cut her off with a whine. “I hate surprises.” You and Paige both know you were just being dramatic, and that you were just excited.

Paige was your third relationship and your first girlfriend, and today is your second anniversary, so it was a big day for the both of you. All your other relationships ended with him cheating on you, which led to you having an abundant amount of trust issues. So it’s safe to say learning to trust Paige at the beginning of your relationship was one of the many pebbles you had to shake out of your shoe.

Paige never gave you a reason to not trust her. Never. You knew her passwords to everything, as well as most of her contacts. She was impossibly patient with you, from when you’d yell at her because you were too in your head, to when you’d give her the silent treatment when she pissed you off.

It’s not like Paige was perfect, she had her fair share of flaws. For example, at the start of your relationship, she was extremely jealous. If you guys were out, if you were even looking in another person’s direction, she’d shut down. Since she was in the eye of the public at all times, she’d hold onto that anger until you guys were in a more private setting. This led to screaming matches and honestly, it wasn’t looking the best for you guys.

But after exhausting nights, painfully long conversations, and you two learning how to love each other, you made it work. Paige began to trust that you could stand up for yourself, and you began to trust that she was just head over heels for you as you were for her.

Which is how you got here, to your second year with the love of your life.

“Just a couple more minutes, ma, we’re almost there.” Her hand squeezed your thigh in reassurance. You shake your head and put your hand over hers.

“This better be worth it, Bueckers.”

“Isn’t it always?” She spoke softly, and you can hear the smile on her face.

After what felt like forever (it was 15 minutes), you feel your girlfriend’s hand leave your thigh, and the car jerk into the parking position. “We’re here.” She said, taking the key out of the ignition.

“Can I open my eyes now?” you reply excitedly.

“Yes, you can open your eyes now.” Paige chuckles at your antics as you open your eyes.

You look around, processing your surroundings momentarily, before recognizing it as the local beach. You turn to your girlfriend who’s already looking at you, eyes sparkling with what someone can only describe as undying love. “What’re we doing here?”

She smiles brightly. “Now that’s another surprise.” You groan loudly as Paige chuckles and makes her way to open the door for you.

You walk hand in hand with Paige down to the shoreline of the beach. It was moments like these that you both cherished, the quiet moments, with just the two of you. The moments the world goes silent, and the only thing you have your attention on is the love of your life.

After walking for about 5 minutes, you two come across a blanket, strategically placed on the sand with all a bunch of treats and delights neatly organized. “Huh, I wonder what that’s doing there.” Paige spoke with fake surprise, and you caught the hint.

“You’re so stupid.” You say jokingly, looking at her, as she squeezes your hand. “I know, but you love it.” She smiles like a kid in a candy shop. You laugh and pull her into a passionate kiss.

She sighs as your lips interlock, pulling you in by your waist. You smile into the kiss, before pulling away. “C’mon, let’s eat.”

“I just was.” She groaned as you pulled her onto the blanket, sitting criss-crossed as Paige lay on her side, propped up on her elbow.

“You’re such a teenager.” You say before Paige began opening the food.

By the time you guys had finished eating, the sky had been painted a beautiful mix of pink and orange. It’s been about 10 minutes since one of you spoke, which was okay. The silence was comfortable as you both were just enjoying each others company, looking at the beautiful movie-like sunset. At this point, you were laying in her lap, her arms over your shoulders.

The darker it got, the colder it got, and you both decided to go back to the car. On the way back, Paige revealed she had another surprise, but this time, she didn’t make you cover your eyes to see it. You shuffled into the car, but not before you heard Paige rant about all the sand you had stuck to your body.

You both piled into the car, and Paige pulled off, leaving the beach and the first part of your date behind. You held Paige’s hand the entire time, as her playlist played in the background of your conversations.

It’s dark by the time you get there, but that doesn’t stop you from recognizing where you were. You gasp as the realization comes over you.

“No fucking way.” You look at Paige, then back outside the window.

“You said you’d never been to a carnival, I thought I’d be the first one to take you.” she shrugged as if it was no big deal.

And to some, it might not seem like it, but to you, this meant more than anything. When you were younger, your dad had promised to take you to the carnival for your 14th birthday. But when you turned 13, your dad got really sick, and you never got the chance to go. You held onto the desire to go but never had the time, especially as you got older.

You look at Paige as tears roll down your face. You’ve never felt luckier to have her. “Oh, baby, no, don’t cry.” Her head glances at the road every once in a while, but her attention is on you. Her hands have left yours and have migrated to your thigh.

You laugh and wipe your tears. “I love you so much. Thank you.” You say through your sobs.

Paige swiftly parks the car, gets out, and opens your door. She cups your face, wiping your tears as you unbuckle your seatbelt. You fall into her arms, and she makes sure you don’t hit your head as she lifts you to stand. “Shhh, I love you, too, baby.” She finally answers as you're both standing.

She holds you as you cry, her arms around your waist, your wrapped around her neck, pulling her face to the crook of your neck. After a couple of minutes, you pull away, and lean in for a short, sweet, kiss.

“Are you done?” Paige whispered as she pulled away. You giggle as you nod, unwrapping your arms to wipe your face. Paige looks down at her shirt, groaning when she sees the big tear stain you’d left.

“Wha- Oh. Sorry, love.” You smile apologetically, before bending down and grabbing your purse. As your half in the car, you feel Paige’s hands on your waist, followed by her hips on yours. You turn around quickly, smacking her chest as she bursts out in loud laughter.

“You’re an idiot.” You roll your eyes, before grabbing her hand and dragging her to the carnival grounds.

The night was one of the best you’d had in a while. You walked around for a while before deciding to get on a couple roller coasters, and Paige claimed she didn’t scream once (the jury is still out on that one).

After that, Paige insisted on winning you a stuffed toy at one of the carnival games. Of course, she chose basketball and easily won you a giant stuffed teddy bear. Then she paid for ice cream as you guys decided to go on one last hurrah.

The Ferris Wheel.

You were not excited. Heights were not your things, so it took a little convincing on Paige’s end. But you’ve never once been able to say no to this girl, so that’s why you were now holding onto her bicep for dear life.

Your anxiety peaked as you started moving, and Paige held your thigh to stop you from shaking the passenger cars. “Baby, it’s fine. Look how pretty it is.” she says.

You shake your head, and bury your face deeper into her arm. “Please, it’s so pretty.” You sigh as you reluctantly look around. You feel your stomach drop, but as you take in all the colors, that’s quickly forgotten.

You can’t believe this is what you’ve been missing out on. The view is astonishing, all the colors from the food stands and rides lighting up the night sky. You smile as you see all the people littered around the carnival grounds, minding their business. You detach yourself from Paige’s arm, as you sit up to get a better look around.

“It’s peaceful, right?” Paige asks rhetorically. You hum and nod, before turning to her. “It is.”

Paige smiles softly, before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a little velvet box. You watch her curiously as she fumbles with the box nervously.

“What’s that, P?” You ask to give her the push she needed. She looked at you before looking back at the box. You’ve never seen her so nervous, but it was kinda cute, that after all this time, you still have that effect on her.

“I’ve been meaning to give this to you for a while. I-I’ve never been happier in my entire life. A-and I know we’re far too young to get married, but I never want to live life without you.” She tears up as she opens the box, shifting her body towards you.

“Fuck. I’m so in love with you, and I never want to know what it’s like to not be. I know we’ve been through shit, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you here. I promise that one day, I’ll be able to do this in front of our friends and family. If you let me, I promise to love you forever.” Both of you are in tears now, and you can see her hands shake as she awaits your answer.

You wipe her tears and giggle. “I can’t wait to marry you.” You say through your own tears. Paige lets out a sigh of relief before attaching her lips to yours. You both laugh into the kiss. It looked like a scene out of a movie, as you both reached the peak of the Ferris Wheel, before it stops at the top.

You pull away and giggle as Paige’s shaky hands put the promise ring on your finger. “Fuck, I’ve never been more scared in my entire fucking life.” she mutters when she finally slides the ring on.

You raise your eyebrows. “Not even when KK put that big, fake spider on your bed?”

“No spider should be that fucking big, ever.”

You laugh as you interlock your hand with hers, squeezing it lovingly. The giggles die down, leaving you both in a comforting silence.

“I love you so much, P.”

“I love you so much more.”

Not once in your relationship did you question whether you two were meant to be. And it seems neither did she.

Little did you know that to her, you had always been her end game.

______________________________

taglist: @bueckerslover @wintersstan @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @breeloveschris

[emmyrosee]

“Baby!” You squeal, and he turns around as a wave crashes around him, seemingly unphased by the frosty water.

“What!”

“It’s cold!”

You shiver at the feeling of water lapping at your ankles, the chill of it turning your feet playfully numb. He merely smirks back at you, eyes covered by the sunglasses nestled on his nose, and walks backwards deeper into the water. “It’s not that bad,” he calls, shrugging his arms out. “You’re just a big baby.”

“A baby who’s going back onto the towels,” you giggle, stepping backwards. He calls a quick “chicken!” out at you, but just as you open your mouth to retort, Mother Nature takes care of him, and a massive wave sneaks behind him and takes him down, panic crossing his features as his knees bend and he plops square under the water, disappearing under the waves.

You cackle at the karma, hands clutching your sides at his expense, and he comes back to the surface, at first unamused as his hair is flattened to his forehead and his sunglasses are skewed. His skin glimmers in the sun at the droplets of water clinging to his skin, his trunks are clinging to the muscles and bones of his hips and thighs; he looks ethereal, had he not just been taken down by a wave all of 14 seconds ago.

At your laugher, he shakes his head and stands, glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “You think that’s funny?” He says, annoyance in his expression but amusement in his voice. “Huh?”

“Yes,” you manage. “I do. Karma told you to shut up, and you did.”

“I’ll teach you to shut up,” he barks, and the signals in your brain cross as he starts to make a mad dash towards you, grinning. You scream and try to make a sprint away from him, but the sand is soft under your feet, and you can’t get proper footing to get away fast enough.

“NAAAAOOOOO!” You shriek, hard enough your own head hurts, as two long arms wrap around your torso and hoist you into his arms, your arms instinctively wrapping around him and legs flailing wildly. You curse his strength, the strength you love so much, for him doing this to you. “LEMME GO!”

He doesn’t listen, as he wades back into the water, and as you brace yourself for impact of being thrown in, it never comes. Instead, he lowers you both into the ocean with so much as a shiver. You whine as the chill envelopes your entire body, but he shushes you with a kiss on your cheek.

“See?” He says softly. “It’s not so bad, right?”

“C-Cold!” You clench, but your arms wrap around him tighter and you giggle, his own body cold with water, but your heart warmed with love.

He hums and nips your ear, “maybe it is just a little cold.”

——

hq!: osamu, atsumu, suna, aran, hinata, kuroo, oikawa, iwaizumi, bokuto, sakusa (but don’t tell anyone)

bnha: kirishima, midoriya, hawks

jjk: geto, gojo, yuuji, ino

plus ur faves 🫶🏻

@reverie-starlight I know how you feel about some of these boys so I hope you don’t mind the tag 🥺

[sytoran]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟓 — 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀

kinktober day 005 | mermaid!wanda x pirate!reader

as captain of a notorious gang of pirates, you've got a reputation of steel, but when there's a pretty little mermaid presenting herself for you, there's no chance in hell you're not saying yes.

cont. sweet talk, begging, humiliation, overstimulation word count. 2178

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

“Righto, fellas, so we got sixty ducats – twenty doubloons, is it?” Bucky asks lackadaisically, tossing gold coins up and down with his good hand. 

A loud guffaw surrounds the group of you huddled around the campfire. You shake your head with a toothy grin at your right-hand man’s idiocy. Even the least educated pirates in your gang knew what sixty divided by two was.

You reach over and knock the side of Bucky’s head with your bloodied knuckles. “That brain cavity wouldn’t make a drinkin’ cup for a canary, buddy.” 

“Aw, kiss my boot, ya fuckin’ cunt-licker,” the dark-haired man grumbles in response, still playing with his shiny gold coins. He playfully punches your arm his prosthetic one.

In record timing, you whip out your dagger from your cow-skin belt and pierce the hole in Bucky’s coin midair, pinning the coin to the nearest tree with a deadly aim.

“Cunt-licker is right,” you say smugly, going to ruffle Bucky’s already shaggy hair. The impressed hoots and jeering taunts at your dagger-throwing skills are all good-hearted, as is the general atmosphere within your gang.

The lot of you were specialists in your craft, the most formidable and deadly in the piracy industry. Five years ago, you had claimed the largest plot of land that was the very island you lived on with your mates. Tu’Au was surrounded by the freshest of ocean water and the most gorgeous of views.

There was also a legend of the mystical mermaids that lived beneath Tu’Au, but you didn’t believe any of that bosh and bullshit about supernatural creatures. You’d believe it when you saw one with your very own eyes.

“Yall’ finish up counting our loot for the day, I’m gonna take a walk by the shore,” you say, adjusting the piece of tobacco between your lips and then dusting off your pants. “Don’t let Buck do the counting.”

“Got it, boss,” Steve answers promptly, ever the loyal one. Bucky rolls his eyes.

Loveable idiots, you think, tossing your hat to the side. Strolling away from the main camp, you finally take a deep inhale of that tobacco, smoke trailing off into the orange sunset.

As you walk along the shore, bare feet on the wet sand, you look up and close your eyes. It was times like these that were simple, times like these that you never wanted to end—

“I said, get away from me! Please, just leave me alone!”

A feminine, desperate cry from the distant ocean has you blinking open your eyes in sudden alertness, darting to the source of the sound.

From a short distance to shore, there is chaos occurring within the waters. What seems to be a muscular, bare-chested man is swimming inhumanly fast towards a significantly smaller-sized woman with long, cascading hair. 

Though both of them certainly spoke like regular humans, there was a certain way about their moving in the waters and tremendous presence that had you second-guessing yourself.

“Get back here, you good for nothin’! You’ll make up your mind when I fuckin’ want you to!”

He’s yelling foul words at her, catching up to her already, clearly incredibly unpleased. Suddenly, the man dives down, and you catch sight of a shimmering blue tail above the waters before it disappears.

Hang on a damn moment. Merfolk are real?

But before your brain can process what you truly just saw, the merman reemerges much closer to the mermaid, massive gold spear in a vice grip.

As if a gear was kicked into motion, you sprint towards the water. Kicking up water as you run through the shallow part of the ocean, you stumble but never slow down, eyes set on the target. It’s prey-or-predator right now, either conquer the enemy or die trying.

The said target has got the mermaid in his massive arms, wrapping around her torso and forcefully dragging her back into the deep waters. Her strangled cries get muffled by the water, cries and pleas ringing in your ears.

Just before you dive into the water, your hand flies to that trusty weapon holster, and a sharp dagger flies at the merman with an air-cutting, brutal force. “Y/N bullseye L/N,” you remember Bucky saying with a stupid grin on his face. “Never misses a shot.”

A millisecond before your plunge into the ocean, the stunning blue eyes of the mermaid meet yours, and you lose all the air in your lungs.

You’ve never seen anything like it, never laid your eyes upon such a breathtaking beauty before. Blue eyes deeper than the depths of the ocean, sparkling more than the brightest of glimmering stars, 

An agonized cry from the merman hauls you out of your trance. The dagger struck him directly in the right eye, just as expected, just as you had calculated. Opaque red blood comes out in spurts, and his hands release the mermaid and go to clutch at his eye.

Your arms glide in the water, smooth and cutting, bringing you closer to the struggling pair. 

Seizing the moment of the merman’s distractedness, you wrap your arms around the mermaid. You immediately notice the way she sinks into your embrace, head drooping to lean against your chest as you struggle to move through the water.

You really try to not think too hard about the lithe body in your arms. It was proving to be an incredibly difficult task.

After your hell of an escapade, you have the mermaid girl propped up against the wet rocks. It takes a while for you to notice that you’re on all fours above her, panting heavily with wide eyes and a drenched white shirt.

When you do realise it, though, you get off her immediately, clearing your throat awkwardly. So much for being a scary pirate.

“You alright?” you ask instead, fiddling with the collar of your white shirt. It had gotten drenched while you were in the water, along with all your clothes and your hair.

You were having a hard time trying to avoid looking at her chest since it was literally in front of you.

“You saved me,” the mermaid finally speaks, eyelashes wet with drops of water, her voice softer and sweeter than you could ever have imagined. You get a bit lost in the delicacy of her red lips as she stares back at you.

“Right,” you answer, your throat suddenly dry. 

“What is your name, human?” the mermaid asks, hand going to stroke at the curvature of your jawline that was dotted with droplets of water. The touch was honey-like.

“Y/N. How ‘bout you?”

“Wanda.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

“Prettier than me?”

“No,” you answer a little too quickly, voice a little hoarser than before. Your eyes dart around to focus on anything but the ethereal mermaid before you, but soon they land on a wound at her tail.

“Oh, shucks, you’re bleeding. I’ll go get bandages an’ stuff from base,” you say, looking at the nasty wound on the tip of Wanda’s tail, incarnadine blood leaking out of it.

“Don’t go,” the mermaid suddenly says, and there’s this little begging lilt to her voice that messes up your brain chemistry. “I mean, mermaids have healing properties, so you don’t have to go,” she mumbles, looking away with her cheeks flushed. Cute.

“That’s cool,” you answer, leaning back to let your hands run over the tip of her tail. Just like she said, the wound heals itself, slowly stitching back that scaly-smooth skin with a magical touch.

You give her tail a long stroke, running your fingers through the little scales that decorate this new thing you’d like to explore.

“Hng,” a little whimper suddenly escapes from the mermaid, and the both of you freeze. It’s a fine line between comedy and erotica.

You rub at her tail again, harder this time, and Wanda lets out a louder moan. 

You start massaging her tail, hands spreading out over the sensitive area, kneading gently. Wanda’s face is absolutely flushed, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, the prettiest thing you’d ever seen.

“Kiss me?” she asks, breathlessly, and you don’t have to be told twice.

Warm mouths meet in an inferno of lust, Wanda’s head tilting up to meet yours, your head tilting down to chase hers. The moment you taste the sweetness of her lips, a trigger is flicked inside of your brain, and your body kicks it into overdrive.

Your hands tug off the seashell bra with unbridled haste, flinging it behind you without a care in the world. Wanda squeaks against your lips at your sudden boldness, hands going to encircle the back of your neck.

But that’s before you’re grabbing both her wrists with one hand and pinning it above her head against the wet rock. She moans as your lips make their way down the column of her porcelain, leaving red hickeys into the pale canvas like it was a work of art.

It was true, to a certain extent, because this mermaid before you was a work of art: brown hair splayed onto the wet rock like something out of a Renaissance painting, water droplets across her eyelids, breathing and panting your name, hips moving helplessly under your stronger body, trying to chase a fraction of the pleasure that you’re dangling out of reach.

Your mouth latches on to her supple breasts with eagerness, lips wrapping around her hardened bud. Wanda lets out a shriek when you suck on it, hard. As a mermaid, the sensations and emotions that they felt were many times that of a human, and you were making it no easier for her.

“N-Need you,” Wanda pleads, when you flick at her other pretty pink nipple, admiring how her body arches along with the sensation. 

“Need me where?” you ask, a lust-coated rasp in your voice, edged with a tone of teasing that has Wanda’s head spinning. 

You finally release her hands, and Wanda grabs your right hand with certainty, sliding it down her shuddering body and scaled tail to where a pussy would be.

Instead, your fingertips find a hot, wet, slit.

“Fuck,” you growl into Wanda’s skin, lost in the sheer thoughts of how much you could ruin her.

“Please?” Wanda begs again, giving you the biggest doe eyes she could. You didn’t need any convincing, anyway.

“All this for me?” You ask, ruthlessly plunging two fingers into her dripping slit. It’s warm and wet, and so tight. Your fingers explore, straightening out then curling in, going in big circles then in smaller ones.

All through your unabashed exploration of Wanda’s cunt, the pretty little mermaid is left completely at your mercy. She’s writhing, never been touched like this before.

“S’ too, too much,” she babbles incoherently when you slide a third finger in, thrusting in and out of her gorgeous little cunt like it’d be the last time you’d get to do this. Because in all honesty, it might be.

That thought alone spurs you on to go even faster, playing with Wanda’s body like a fiddle, making all the right noises with the right fingerings.

“Y/N,” she cries, long fingernails ripping the back of your vest to shreds. You don’t give a damn about it.

Turns out, mermaids have several sweet spots, because you’re finding all of them and breaking her with it.

“Gonna cum already?” you ask, “Needy little thing, hm? Couldn’t even wait five minutes?” Wanda tries to shake her head, but your other hand is stroking the length of her tail.

“Come f’me, sweet thing.”

Those words send her over the edge, snapping the knot that had been building in her belly.

“Y/N!” Wanda screams, a melodious tune, hands clawing at the edges of the rocks, then the back of your neck, all while her head is thrown back. Her tail is flapping in a state of no control, lost in the pleasure you’re feeding her.

Acknowledging the delicious tightening of Wanda’s mermaid slit around your three fingers, you opt to instead go at an even faster pace, fingers thrusting deeper into her body, because you wanted every inch of it.

“Y/N,” Wanda sobs, because she sees stars. Those brilliant blue eyes getting teary with your relentless pace. The tears escape the corners of her eyes and cascade down her cheeks like a waterfall.

It’s a sight you’d imprint into your memory forever, when Wanda’s ocean blue eyes roll into the back of her head and her little mermaid body goes limp in your arms.

You admire her for many moments, at how she had made you fuck her silly, at how she was yours now.

—

“Why’re you smilin’ like a baked possum?” Bucky asks you once you head back to camp. It’s early the next day, still dark out in the wide seas. He’s sprawled out on a wide hammock, sharpening a knife. Steve is cuddled into his chest.

Your lips curve into a stupidly smug smirk. “Not that you would know a dime about pussy, but remember what you said about cunt-lickers?”

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

[yanderefarm]

yandere!king x prince!reader part 2

cw;; manipulation?

here we go... more emil content. this one goes out to u emil lovers. i promise I'll give him more content including a part 3

"marry me. or die."

those words bring a chill into the room, their weight heavy on your chest. your eyes widen in horror as it really settles in exactly what that insane man is asking of you. your mind wanders to your sister and you wonder if she ever felt this soul crushing weight when she first got his proposal.

finally you will yourself to speak. "is that allowed? we're both men."

the king hums in response, his pen tapping idly against your father's desk. "you need not worry about the details. all you have to do is agree."

you dropped your gaze to your lap, feeling the shiver climb up your skin. "...i want more information."

emil's head tilted to the side curiously. "and if I don't want to give it to you?"

your thumbs twiddle as your brain grapples for words. you know that you have no power here, you possess nothing that he cannot take with force. while you want to at least get his promise not to hurt your family you know that without power of your own nothing stops him from doing whatever he wants. he has a stacked deck. you can feel tears start to well in your eyes but you force yourself to stop. you take in a deep breath.

"you can do as you please. i can also do as i please." you finally speak, your voice clearly hesitant.

"oh? but I thought you loved your family." he put down his pen, his full attention on you.

"yes, i do. i will do whatever it takes to keep them safe and nothing more." you forced your chest forward holding yourself tall.

emil got up from the desk, his eyes not leaving you for a moment as he made his way to your side. each footstep was deafening like thunder shaking you to your bones. it felt like an overwhelming force putting pressure on your chest, trying to crush you under him. when he finally reached your side it was hard to breathe and you were shaking despite all your attempts to steel yourself. his long fingers slipped under your chin before jerking your head to meet his gaze.

"then you'll marry me...?" he said it like a question but you both knew it wasn't.

"if that's what it takes."

his thumb ran out over your bottom lip. "if I demand more of you?"

"i will do everything you demand and nothing more."

you had clearly drawn a line in the sand. if you had to marry him it would be a loveless marriage where you gave him the bare minimum. truly Emil would have preferred that from that other woman but now with you and your blatant denial of your affection...

"if i demand your love?"

"...i will do my best to act like a loving husband."

his hand gripped your jaw firmly as he bent down to get his face inches from your own. "i don't want you to play pretend."

you swallowed hard, losing your resolve more by the moment.

before you could speak; "i want a kiss."

"wh-what???" you stared at him like you weren't sure you heard him correctly.

"i want you to kiss me like you love me."

emil pulled his hand away with a smug smile on his face, content that he had made you drop your bravado. he barely resisted laughing at your silence. meanwhile you were still shaking, fear and adrenaline pumping through your body. you were keenly aware that he was mocking you, he didn't expect you to go through with it. you stood up from your spot, your shaking hands grabbed emil's broad shoulders and...

your faces jammed together roughly, noses squished against each other and your teeth pressing against each other's. not romantic. but you kissed him.

you went to pull back but he grabbed your shirt and pulled you back into a proper kiss. it was softer, a lot less nose crushing and teeth knocking. you could actually taste some kind of jam on his lips this time. it wasn't unpleasant.

emil practically threw you on the ground when he pulled away. you were expecting him to be smug about how you didn't do it right but when you looked at his face he was blushing and looking away from you. he was... embarrassed? it was kind of cute.

it wasn't exactly power but it gave you some feeling of ground to stand on. "if you promise my family's unconditional safety i can put forth more effort."

it was his turn to be silent as he tried to gather his bearings. he finally looked at you, a small smile on his lips. "is this what passes for leverage nowadays?"

"if it has value to you then it becomes leverage against you."

"spoken like a true ruler... should I draft up the contract?" his expression was more playful like he was talking to an equal.

"let's work on it together."

[evilminji]

You know what? I just had A Thought(tm)~☆

Danny. Our bby boy. MINDING HIS BUSINESS. Maybe visiting one of his buddies in the Realms after he graduates. When he just?? Get full on tackled from the sky.

And like?

Huh.

THIS hasn't happened in a bit. Not since he's become king. Legit, no one dares. He's honestly kinda missed it. Alright, square up... Mr. Uuuuuh.... Who are you?

And it's this barely formed New Ghost. Still in that glitch-y goopy blob phase and everything. Is Baby. Why... why does this infant Want To Fight God? I mean. He Respects It(tm), no lie, but? Not exactly usual for him?

And it turns out? This dude is some rando hero. He basicly JUST died. By all rights SHOULD be resting and gathering his strength to Form Right. But he's so worried for his team mates and everyone else he CAN'T. Recognized a fellow Hero's Costume even at a distance.

Please. PLEASE! You have to help him! We have to WARN everybody!

And Danny is just? Oh no. This Actual Infant Baby is gonna Anxiety himself to Actual Second Death at this rate. Yes! Sure! Just CALM DOWN! Anything you need buddy! BREATHE.

And this dude? Who died? Is legit a minor player who got WAY too deep but refused to abandoned People In Need(tm). It happens. It HURTS. But he saved a LOT of lives before he went down. Him and his team were just some Minor Heros from Belarus. How they ended up in deep space? Even THEY couldn't tell you.

They couldn't even bring him home.

He forgives them.

He could NEVER blame his friends. Not for this. The planet is in danger. Some... some THING. An invasion. The League has to be made aware. He DIED helping a planet try to evacuate all that they could. He... at least he...

He can't remember if the Eggs got out. They... they're like babies. A whole room full of toddlers who couldn't run. They had to de-connect from the main building to lift it out. He can't... can't...

He saved them... right? Held on.. long enough? Why can't he.. he...

Danny has to make him focus be for the kid spirals. Don't think of your last moments. Purpose. You NEED to do something right now, right?

Right! The League! We gotta warn them! And... okay. Danny can totally do that. (What LEAGUE??!) He DEFINITELY knows who you are talking about and will tell them Right Away. YOU however are gonna rest up.

So he leaves the kiddo with Lunch Lady. Mother and Frightening Matriarch Extraordinaire. Lunch Box promises to SIT on him if he tries to sneak off. Good kid. Now eat your soup before you BECOME soup.

Time to bully the eyeballs. Whoms't the F*ck is this "league"? And where does he find it? Talk. He has sand and he's not afraid to use it. Don't MAKE him get out the pepper grinder! Yeah. That's what he THOUGHT.

After much, prolonged and unnecessary, whining and dramatic threatening... he gets a printed out map. Cheapskates even used flimsy paper. He gets there. Jaunt is even kinda nice. He says hi to a few folks he hasn't seen in a while.

Opens a portal.

Steps out.

Gets punched in the face. RUDE! He punches the flying blue man back. Dents their wall. Not even a LITTLE sorry about that now! See if HE does you a favor aga-... is that his Ex? John?

John! Constantine you B@STARD. YOU OWE ME 20 BUCKS. *Ten different hands slap a twenty on the table at his feet, including Constantine. Who is refusing to look at anybody.* Well, okay then. Debt payed. Gonna buy himself a shake or something, after this.

ANYWAY~ Good News Or Bad News?

He is met with silence. It's like they've never seen an ethereal, giant, glowing man with a suit that looks like a cut out of the night sky, step out of an eye searing rip in reality before. Man they're lives must be boring. But frankly? Danny can wait. It's not HIS reality that's gonna get messed up. He can take care of it if the wanna be Wah Babies. Good News or Bad News??? Pick one.

He sits back in the air and waits.

@stealingyourbones @cyrwrites

[cryptidghostgirl]

Unrequited (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: It is too late for him to change things now. It doesn't matter what else has happened, that he's gotten to know her, seen her light. Some broken things can never be fixed.

Warnings: Uh, angst. 'You came' 'you called' but make it sad.

Word Count: 1,218

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

“You came.” he felt oddly breathless as he stepped up behind Y/n.

She was standing on the guest's side of the bar, helping Husk clean glasses. As she carefully dried the crystalline objects, she delicately placed them to the side to be put away later. Her back was to him.

"Yes, Alastor. Not like I had a choice."

Husk shot the pair a glance from the sink. It was night, the first moment the pair had had since they were so rudely ripped from their lives and dropped into the Hotel. Neither soulless sinner particularly wanted to speak to their master but, there he was.

Y/n could feel Alastor's eyes burning holes in the back of her neck. She sighed, turning to face him.

Seven years, Alastor thought to himself, his eyes savoring every detail as they drank Y/n in. Seven years and she was still just as enthralling. Not as the day he had met her, no. On that day, she'd been nothing more than another hopeless soul ripe for the taking.

She had shook, cowering before him like every other sinner. It wasn't until long after he had met Y/n, until he had gotten to know her, that he saw the beauty. It was a gentle thing. It snuck in and enthralled slowly. There had been no head first dive off a cliff. It had been like quick sand, it had clawed at him, slowly dragging him down.

Y/n's displeasure at his presence was written into her features. He read it in the slight crease between her eyebrows, in the irritated way she ran a hand through her hair. He had expected nothing other, but that didn't mean he hadn't hoped for some other reaction from the girl.

"How long are you gonna make us stay?" Husk called from the sink, shutting the water off and turning to Alastor as well, "How long is this shit hole hotel gonna be your new passion project?"

Alastor turned to the cat demon, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"As long as it amuses me." he answered sharply and Husk sighed.

He took the towel off his shoulder and let it fall to the back counter of the bar. Shooting a look at the back of Y/n's head, Husk crossed his arms.

"We're all done here for the night. You can go."

Y/n turned her head to the side, smiling softly at Husk over her shoulder. There it was, that smile, his downfall. It had been a long time since Alastor had seen it, longer still since she had directed it toward him. He wondered if it would ever be sent his way again. If he had known then what he knew now... if only he had known.

"I got a few more of these to dry still."

Husk sent Y/n a pointed look and she sighed, shaking her head slightly.

"Don't worry, Husker." she hummed softly, "I'm okay. I promise. Go to bed, you look like you could use some rest."

She turned back fully to Husk as he nodded slowly. Y/n picked her dish cloth back up and started working on the glasses again. With a wave goodnight, he slid out from behind the bar and headed upstairs. Alastor watched until he was out of the room before turning back to Y/n.

The grace with which Y/n held herself: it wasn’t something Alastor had ever noticed, not until years after their contract had first been made.

See, the thing was, Alastor hadn’t known Y/n when they’d made their deal. She had been young and naive, timid and jumpy. He had offered her protection after getting her out of a sticky situation with Valentino and in return, he had only asked for her soul. She hadn’t known then, what a thing that was, how serious. She’d only been down in hell for a few days, after all. The worst crime she’d ever committed when alive was stealing lighters from a CVS with her friends as a teenager. She had been innocent, unfit for the dark. He had been her guiding light.

For years after the deal had first been struck, Y/n still didn’t really understand. Alastor never had to ask her twice for anything, never had to drag her to his side so, of course she didn’t. She was loyal. Y/n trusted him, even called Alastor a friend.

Alastor wasn’t one for regretting things. It wasn’t in his brand, his view of the world. The more time he had spent with Y/n, the more he had regretted the deal and the potential horrors it could bring her way. As long as she didn’t understand what it meant, however, he was in the clear.

Introducing her to Husk was where he had misstepped. The cat demon had told her everything, explained it all down to the last detail. Suddenly those smiles, those snide remarks and teasing comments, were gone. Y/n wouldn't come near him unless she had to, wouldn't even look his way.

She knew he had tricked her, that she was trapped. Eternally bound to Alastor's side, the man wasn't her friend anymore. To be perfectly honest, she couldn't tell if he ever really had been.

The worst part about it wasn't even the betrayal. The worst part about it was how stupid she felt. She had cared for the demon, she had even begun wondering if she might love him. He had always been a gentleman, always kind and caring once she got to know him. Now there was this sudden distance between them, this 'had she ever even known him at all.'

"What?" Y/n sighed, turning to face him as she slammed her last glass down on the table.

"Whatever is the matter, dear?" Alastor asked, taking a step closer.

He could feel her breath, the slight breeze made by her movement through the air as she crossed her arms defensively over her chest. His heart pounded against the constraints of his ribcage, his hands trembled.

"You wont stop staring at me. You must want something so, what is it?" she replied shortly, "Am I doing something wrong? Did I upset you?"

Alastor fell silent. There was vitriol dripping from her mouth, aimed towards him. Twenty years since she'd found out about the true nature of their relationship and he still didn't know how to handle it.

"Just a pleasure to see you is all."

Y/n raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah right."

"No, really. It always is."

The air between them could be cut with a knife, it was thick with tension. Alastor wished he could turn back the clock, undo the curse, do something -- anything. There was nothing. They were stuck, he owned Y/n but not in the way he wanted to. No, he had realized everything too late.

"You came." he said again, his voice soft, barley a whisper.

The words fell lamely to the floor between them. Y/n dropped her arms. She suddenly seemed very tired, utterly exhausted in fact. Her hair slipped from behind her ears, dancing gently around the curves of her face as she raised a hand to her temples, rubbing them softly as if to rid herself of a headache.

“You called.”

----

→ Unrequited Pt. 2

[rottenaero]

Saw someone say El gets found by Wayne instead of Mike and the gang to which I say hell yeah.

Waynes working late at the plant when hears these noises coming from the woods, then a girl with a shaved head rushes out to grab his coworkers sand which they’d forgotten about hours ago.

She dirty, wearing a hospital gown, and he approaches her. Asks if she has a place, and she’s so fidgety that he’s shocked she hasn’t run away. She must see something to trust in him because when he asks if she wants some real hot food, she says yes.

He grabs an extra coat from his trunk so she can cover up and brings her through a drive through, lets her eat her food in the back while drives back to the trailer. It reminds him of Eddie, when his father had first gone to jail. His hair was buzzed and he was cagey, but was quick to pick through his burger and fries.

He brings her home, learns her name is Eleven, and Eddie meets her. He’s excited to meet her an quickly gives her the nickname El which just sticks. She warms up to the pretty quickly.

About a week after she first gets there, Steve Harrington shows up, trying to get weed for Tommy because the fuckers to lazy to get it himself.

She pokes her head out of Eddie’s room and sees him. She immediately comes out. “Shit,” Eddie mutters, “El, just stay in there another minute.” But she doesn’t, she goes straight up to Steve and just stares.

“Pretty…Pretty hair.” Steve beams, and crouches down to her level. “Thank you. Wanna touch it?” He asks. She nods enthusiastically, starry eyed as she reaches out and runs her hands through it.

“Didn’t know you had a little sister, Munson.” He raises a brow between the two. Eddie doesn’t reply, just stares at the sight.

“I- Uh, yeah.”

“You don’t,” Steve starts, pauses. El’s still playing with his hair when he continues. “You don’t smoke anything around her, right?”

Eddie is quick to shake his head, “Jesus! No Harrington, I only do it when I’m out of the house.”

El pauses. “..Harrington? You are Steve then.”

Steve nods, and Eddie’s are blown wide mouthing nononono, “Yeah, why?”

“He talks about you sometimes.” She shrugs, and pulls away, before looking up at the long-haired guy who looked embarrassed.

“Eggos.” She states. He nods, “Alright, Harrington, the goods, they might take a minute.”

“Dude, are you serious? It’s like 3pm.”

“So? The girl wants Eggos, why not?”

“Because it’s not healthy?” He sighs, gets up, and walks into the kitchen like he owns it. He opens the fridge door, and the freezer. “Do you have panko crumbs and cooking oil?”

He approaches, and leans against the bar, a bit hunched so he doesn’t knock down a hanging mug with his head. “It’s a no on the panko, but we’ve got some veggie-oil.”

Steve grabs eggs and chicken from his fridge and setting them on the counter, and begins opening random cabinets. He gets to the one with the food and grabs half-eaten lays chips, flour, and oil. “Got any seasoning?”

“Dude, what are you even doing?” He asks, El comes up beside him and jumps onto the counter. Steve opens another cabinet and grabs a couple seasonings. “Cooking real food.”

“Well aren’t you a little house-wife.” He snorts as Steve takes a pan off a nearby hook and puts it on the stovetop. His eyes widen, “Oh wait, you’re serious?”

“Uh,” Steve fills it with a little bit of oil, “Duh?” He gets a couple bowls out, cracks some eggs into one, another he puts flour and some other shit into.

He pushes the bag of lays to El, “Can you crunch all of these into tiny pieces?” Before going back to whatever he was doing.

In the end, the chicken tastes good. El loves it, and when Steve leaves she mourns him.

“I like him. He’s nice.”

Steve starts coming over everyday, usually during lunch but sometimes dinner, and makes them foods.

She meets the party who are looking for Will when Steve suggests she meet some friends from Hawkins, and introduces her to Nancy’s little brother.

Eventually, they all get sucked into the upside down when Eddie learns she has powers, and Steve fights the demo-gorgon.

Then El disappears and they’re all super upset, and when they found out that’s she was alive they’re pissed.

She still loves Hopper, but she also loves Wayne so they do weekend swaps and shit.

Steve starts greeting Eddie at school, hanging out with him sometimes. Eddie notices how he doesn’t let anyone touch his hair, but the way that anytime El asks he’ll gladly let her.

Idk, I think it’s sweet. Wayne gets another kid he adores, Eddie as her lame-but-cool-to-her older brother, and Steve as the babysitter, not just for her but Eddie too, because he’s also not allowed Eggos at 3pm are you fucking kidding me??

El is at Hoppers the week the whole star court thing happens and him and Wayne goes to pick her up and she’s sobbing, and Steve’s got his face beaten in.

When Joyce suggests she being El with her to California, Eddie doesn’t want her too, but Wayne thinks it’s best so they hug goodbye.

Steve still drops by everyday.

[c0ld0utside]

May i please request a merman (that has legs on land) that adopts a raccoon/possum hybrid kid

Went with the raccoon hybrid. I am so sorry these are taking me long.

Warnings: Mentions of family death, poaching(?, would people hunting mers count as that or??), mentions of dysfunctional family dynamics/abuse (not too in depth), technically kidnapping...all the fun yandere stuff.

Let's get into it.

-

Jupiter was a lonely, broken mess since he lost his pod. His mate, his parents, his siblings, his pup…gone. His tail was wounded terribly as well- to the point where using it felt like getting stabbed and cut all over again. He mostly just hid in a small hidden cove, eating the little fish that wandered in and the small hermit crabs he could snatch off the beach. It was his routine for days. Wake up, lie in the spot for hours, eat a little to get rid of the hunger pangs, lie back down, fall asleep. 

That is until one day he wakes up to the scene of a runty little racoon hybrid trying to catch a hermit crab. It’s a mess- the younger scrambling around and tripping over themself in the sand, pausing to look over at Jupiter to make sure he’s asleep. He quickly shuts his eyes, keeping them relaxed and letting out a deep sigh. Don’t mind me, fast asleep. Snoozing away…

He feels some sand land on him and flinches, but forces out a snort and shifts. Jupiter hears the little rascal giggle softly, then fall silent. Opening up and eye and peeking over his shoulder, he can see the crab making its way over to him. He doesn’t want to scare the pup- cub- but he doesn’t want them to starve, either.

Quick as a flash, he rolls over and snatches the hermit crab, ripping it out of it’s shell and offering it to the younger.

///

You let out a startled squeak at the movement, stumbling backward as the mer offers you the poor tiny crushed crab in his hand. In all honesty, you were just after it’s shell; A beautiful Murex that wasn’t too large or small. The mer frowns, red-brown fins lowering against the side of his head slightly. His scales reminded you of the dunes at sunrise and sunset- warm tones of red, orange and yellow with some brown. The mer chirps at you, starting to pull himself closer before freezing and backing into the water. …Okay. Strange. 

Confused hazel eyes stare at you, and he offers you the crab one more time. You shake your head, looking over at the shell instead. He seems to understand then and sinks deeper into the water. There’s a beat. Two. Then he moves forward again and offers you the shell. He’s like a wave- not knowing where he’s going or what he’s doing. Back and forth. Unsteady. 

“Thank you,” you say, the words coming out eager. You turn the shell around in your hands, thumb rubbing against the dull points and the rings. It’s a little yellow and pink from the sand and the salt. “It’s beautiful.”

The mer chirps at you again, expression softening in awe. Your ears flatten on your head and your tail twitches. “Can I help you?” Yes. You absolutely can. He just needs to get himself together first. 

His frills flare when you step away and he lets out a pleading sound, fingers digging into the wet sand. At first you think he’s hissing. Then he finally gets the words out. “Sssssstay,” he rasps, voice weak from lack of use. The actions have you retreating further when you finally notice the still-healing and scarring cuts on his tail.

Oh.

Maybe he’s asking for help? Well in that case, you just so happened to know about a certain coastal market that should have some ointments. “Wait here,” You tell the mer. “I’ll go get something that can help.” You scamper off to the markets and try to ignore the clicks the mer makes. 

The fastest way to the market is also the way that leaves you with the most scrapes and bruises. …You cut straight through the woods on a forgotten path and tumbled down a few short slopes, rolling right into the market. Ignoring the raised brows and looks you’re getting, you slip into the crowd and at least forty-five minutes later manage to lose the angry shopkeep with some ointment and a towel in hand. There was an awkward moment where you thought you got busted and played dead for a few seconds though you shove it into the back of your mind and press on. Right. Strange merman is more important. 

The trek back was exhausting to the point where you collapsed in the sand. Sand which was burning hot already…for some reason. You quickly scrambled back up with a yelp, running into the water to cool off your legs. Mere seconds later, the mer resurfaced, chirping urgently at you. “Agh-! Yeah, yeah, hi again.” You mutter as the mer moves closer to you. “I got you some stuff for your tail.” He takes the ointment you offer him and tilts his head at you before snatching the towel as well. “Hey! That was for me-”

You trail off as the mer crawls out of the water, quickly wrapping the towel around himself as he stands on wounded legs. Since when could merfolk do that? You had no idea. 

[...]

Months have passed since then and you find yourself returning to the cove, giving the mer (who’s name you’ve learned is Jupiter) some company. Most days it’s boring- helping him regain his voice and bringing him necessities. “Little one, please, you shouldn’t have to be doing this for me,” Jupiter murmurs as you set some clothes down on the beach. “And I already have clothes! This is too much.” He insists. “You can’t wear the same thing over and over again,” you point out. “And you need to practice walking. Now hurry up and get yourself dry so you can try those on.” Huffing a laugh at your bossiness, Jupiter drags himself onto the sand and grabs the towel. “[Name,]” he calls as he wraps it around his waist, “Do you have a family of your own?” You pause. You and your family had a complicated relationship. You all loved each other to some degree but physical and verbal disagreements along with weak, unstable bonds with your parents and siblings pushed you into leaving way earlier than most hybrids of your kind. You still had a nasty bite scar from your eldest sister. 

“Yeah. We don’t get along much, though.” You say, deciding on telling him everything and nothing. The sound of shifting fabric mixes with the lapping of the waves and the breeze in the trees. While you wait, you decide to look for shells again. “So you left?” He asks in disbelief. “Yeah. Shocking, am I right?” You reply, tail twitching in slight irritation. “But you’re so young,” Jupiter comments sadly, finishing getting dressed and pulling a shirt over his head.  “I’m not that young.” You scoff. “Then why are you so tiny?” He asks, tone so sweet it’s condescending. “Because hybrids of my species are small. Why are you so large underwater?” Jupiter hums. “Fair point. You can turn around now.” You shake your head. “Can’t, I think I just found a shell.” You pull a whelk out of the sand. “Scratch that. Definitely found a shell.”

“Oooh, that one’s nice.” Jupiter comments, peeking over your shoulder. He falls silent again. “Where did you put all of the other ones you found?” He asks. “There’s a harpy that I trade some of them to. I kept the ones I liked the most in a hollow but someone stole them.” You answer, making him frown. “It’s okay. I’m used to it.” You reassure, though he catches the smallest hint of bitterness in your tone. Which brings an idea into his head.

“I know a safe place for you to put them,” he offers, knowing exactly where to go. Jupiter had found a nice cave on the cliffside, one that was hard to leave unless you were a merfolk or an avian. That certainly caught your attention. “Show me.” Pleased by your eagerness, Jupiter helped you onto his back and swam off to the littoral cave. He didn’t mention that you would be staying there no matter what you said. It was a hard decision, yes, but you’ll understand in the end. Call him paranoid, but this world was so dangerous! Especially for a small thing like you. But it’ll be okay now, and he’s already made it all comfy and cozy. And it’s not like you’ll be staying there all day. That’d be cruel! No, no. He’ll take you out to go swimming and hiking and beach combing. Jupiter will even bring you back some books! Getting the hang of walking on land was the best thing he ever did in his opinion.

Now he can make his own little stall at the market. Now he can sell the shells you don’t want to keep for actual money, buy himself some fishing nets, and go on from there. What would you need the money for? No need to worry. Papa will take care of it all. He’ll buy you all the comforts you’d ever want.

[imtryingbuck]

Little Wolf

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x wolf!fem!Reader

Summary: he finds a wolf injured on his run, the wolf doesn’t seem to be all that it appears.

Word count: 5,925

Warnings: angst. fluff. swearing. hunting animals (not detailed) gross hunters pissing on the animals. shooting. hit with an arrow. fire. 

Masterlist

Death. Pain. Blood. The chair. Screams. So so, so much blood.

The punching bag was hanging on for dear life as his fists took his frustration out on it. The flashbacks driving him further into beating the bag that shakes with each punch. Ignoring the pain in his right hand and back he continues his assault.

Three hours. That’s how long he had been punching the bag filled with sand. When the pain in his hand got too much he steps back taking in a deep breath he watches the punching bag swing to a slow stop.

Normally after spending a few hours in the gym he would meet with Steve and go on a run together, sometimes Sam joining too but they were both on a mission together. They had their own pathway that they preferred to run but last time he went running on his own it came to an abrupt end when he was surrounded by police, all pointing their guns at him. Someone had seen the former Winter Solider running and thought he had done something so they rang for help. It took Steve, Tony and Fury to come down and tell the cops to stand down, told them he posed no threat.

Bucky stopped running on his own after that.

Normally he would just go back to his room, have a shower and try to relax but his mind was working overtime plagued by the memories of his time at Hydra so he decided to take that chance and go on that run on his own. He was just going to change his location of his run.

It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. He told himself as he found a new area, it was the woods that were near the compound. It had a trail that never seemed to be used, so hopefully he wouldn’t bump into anyone.

His feet pounded the ground as he pushed his legs to move faster with each passing tree, the sweat was dripping off him and his hair was slowly falling out of the bun he put it in. On his seventh lap of the entire woods from end to end he finally slowed down as the stitches in his side were getting painful. A twig breaking from inside the woods had his feet stopping, his head snapping to where the sound seemed to have come from. Another snap of a twig had his eyes squinting to try and locate the person or animal causing the sound.

And while yes he was a super solider who was dubbed by the world as the deadliest assassin to ever exist who had a metal arm that could punch through walls easily he stood there in the middle of the pathway feeling scared. If it was Hydra agents he knew he didn’t stand a chance of fighting them all off, he had no weapons on him to fight them. If it was a person who was just taking a stroll through the woods and they thought he was doing something wrong he couldn’t let Fury or Tony defend him again. If it was a bear-

You’ve never seen bears around here Buck.

A small whimper coming from where the twigs were breaking had his feet moving faster than his brain could try and talk him out of it. If it was a person he could help them. If it was an animal he could help them. If it was an agent of Hydra then he was falling straight into their trap.

Taking careful steps he followed the sound of whimpering, stopping when his eyes landed on a large black wolf. Looking down where the wolf was licking he saw the metal contraption of a bear trap locked painfully on its back leg. Bucky looked around to see if there was another wolf or two, knowing they mainly traveled in a pack he moved slower and with more caution when he didn’t see any others.

The wolf snapped its head in Bucky’s direction baring its teeth releasing a deep growl that had the hairs on the back of Bucky’s neck stand to attention. “I-I’m not going to hurt you. I promise” he stuttered out feeling stupid when he heard his own words. It doesn’t understand you idio-

The large beast stared him in the eyes for a few minutes before continuing to lick at the wound, Bucky took it as a sign that he could move closer, as he does the wolf looks at him without stopping its movements. Bucky slowly reached out to the trap and began pulling it apart, the wolf pulled its leg out and scampered off through the trees without looking back.

Bucky smiled at saving the beautiful creature.

For weeks Bucky would run the trail in order to see if he could find the wolf again, for those weeks he kept coming up empty.

Until one day. As he was running he came to a halt at seeing the wolf again, sitting in the middle of the trail looking at him. It stood up moving closer, he noticed that it had a little limp from the injury. Just in front of him the wolf sat staring up at him, its fur was jet black and looked so soft that he really wanted to reach out and touch.

“Do you remember me?” A head tilt from the creature. “A-are you friendly?” It yapped “I’m taking that as a yes” he chuckled which caused the wolf’s tail to wag. Reaching out slowly he half expected the wolf to move away but it didn’t instead moved its large head closer to him and rubbed along his hand.

Bucky knelt down and began running his fingers through the thick jet black fur that was unbelievably soft. Steve wasn’t going to believe him when he told him that he had befriended a wolf. “Where’s your friends huh?” Another head tilt given as a response. “You’re so soft aren’t you boy?” A low growl from the wolf had him taking his hand away. “Oh, you’re a girl? Oka-“ his phone cuts him off, answering it as it was Steve he chuckles when the wolf’s head tilts from side to side as if she’s trying to understand where the voice is coming from. “I’ve got to go pretty girl, but I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” Bucky truly felt terrible about leaving her behind especially when he looked behind him to see her still sitting there.

Over the course of a week Bucky left for the woods to see the wolf he had befriended, and like he said Steve did not believe him when he told the blond. Bucky would run with her by his side, he would stroke her fur when she won the unofficial race they were having. His wolf friend no longer limped as her leg was healing perfectly.

“So tomorrow I won’t be here to see you little one, I’ve got to go on a mission. I know I don’t like it either. Yes I’ll miss you” he explained and told her when she answered him with a bark, he wanted to pretend that he could understand her even though he in fact couldn’t.

Saying his goodbyes his feet leads him back to the compound. He’s already counting down the minutes until he’s back from the mission that hasn’t even started yet.

Five days later the jet was touching down on the runway at the compound carrying all members of the Avengers, Bucky’s plan was to take a quick shower, get dressed and head to the woods to see his wolf.

Going towards the woods a little later than he wanted as Steve all but forced him to have something to eat he looked around expecting to see her, he walked further into the woods looking between the gaps of the trees for his little wolf.

Just as he was about to call out for her he felt a presence behind him, before he could turn around he was knocked on to his front with a loud thud. He manage to turn his body around coming face to face with his wolf whose whole body shook due to her tail wagging furiously from side to side.

“Hi pretty girl, you snuck up on me. Yeah yeah I missed you too”

He manages to get her off him so he could sit up, she walks off but looks behind her to see if he follows, he does once she yaps at him. “So bossy, jeez.” Another yap comes from her. “I’m coming hold on!”

He follows her throughout the woods, getting further away from the trial, reassuring her that he was still behind her every time she looked over to him. He frowns when she stops in front of a tent that was mostly ripped. “What are we doing here pretty girl?” She goes inside and he hears a noise and then rustling. “Little wolf?” He panics.

His heart stops.

“P-pl-please don’t freak out.”

“Wh-what…”

“I’m little wolf… I’m human, well I’m a wolf, well you know.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“Which part?”

“You’re a wolf?”

“Yes.”

“But you’re also human?”

“Yes.”

“Jesus, I’ve seen it all now!” You watch him as he paces up and down, his eyes bouncing from you to the ground. “How?”

“I don’t know, I was born like it.”

“Is this a trick? Is little wolf inside?”

“It’s not a trick.”

“I don’t believe you.” His eyes narrow at you.

“Right.” Taking off the clothes you had just put on, you want to laugh at how bright his face goes at seeing your naked form. “Watch.”

And he does. He watches as the human in front of him instantly becomes a wolf. His little wolf. His eyes blink in quick succession at the sight. “This is insane!”

Turning back in to your human form, you put your clothes back on again. “I didn’t think you’d react like this, I’m sorry if I’ve scared you. I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

“How else am I supposed to react?” He snapped at you.

“I-I don’t know, you’re the first person I’ve ever shown… I’ll-I’ll go now, please, please don’t tell anyone about me, they’ll hunt me.”

Bucky watches as you grab your things from the wrecked tent, quickly packing whatever you had to your name in a duffle bag. “Wait, just… you don’t need to leave. I just wasn’t expecting you to turn into a human, I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“No-no it’s okay, I-I shouldn’t have shown you, I’m sorry.” You said as you scramble to grab all your things.

“Hey, hey stop. You don’t need to leave.”

“I-I do.”

“You don’t, I’m not going to tell anyone I promise. It just freaked me out, I wasn’t expecting little wolf to turn into a person, you know?”

“I’m sorry for freaking you out.” You kick a pebble finding it more easier than to look at him. “You promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“I promise.”

“I don’t have any friends by the way.” Bucky’s head snapped up to face you, a puzzled expression on his beautiful face. “You asked where my friends were, I don’t have any.”

Moving slowly to sit down on a log you pat it as an invitation for him to sit too. “My… my pack kicked me out.”

“Why?”

“I’m the runt.” Picking up a stick you began to pick at it. “I’m weaker than the rest of them so I was kicked out.”

“You’re not weak-“

“I am compared to the rest of them.” You shrugged, still playing with the stick.

“What’s your name?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Y/n, yours?”

“Bucky.”

“Weird name.”

“Your name is weird!”

You both sat there on that log arguing about whose name was weirder, for nearly twenty minutes. The argument only coming to an end when Bucky’s phone started ringing. You could see it on his face that he was nervous and felt terrible about leaving you alone in the woods but you waved him off telling him that it’s okay. You both walked silently towards the entrance of the woods, Bucky smiled as you shifted back into your wolf form.

“Hey Y/n” you turn around to face him. “Your name is weird.” Bucky chuckles when you growl in response.

It had been four months since you showed Bucky your human form, and truly you were shocked that he kept coming back to see you, he would even bring food and drinks with him when he came. Sometimes the two of you would sit on the log and talk about everything and anything, sometimes you’d both walk around the woods - taking down the snares and disabling the bear traps that hunters would put there.

Bucky opened up to you about his past, told you things that not even Steve or his therapist knew about, he told you all about his nightmares and how that sometimes he would see the ghosts of his victims. He sat there on that hard wooden log pouring everything out to you and when he found the courage to look at you he was surprised not to see the look of fear, judgement or even pity in your eyes. You didn’t even say anything, there was no ‘it wasn’t you’ or ‘you’re a good man now’ like he always got told, no you took his hand in yours and laid your head on his shoulder.

You opened up about your own past, you told him that your mum was human and your dad was a wolf who met and fell in love, you didn’t go to school but was taught maths and English with the rest of the pups, and even though your former pack were also human they preferred being in their wolf form that mainly lived in woods.

“One night my mum was hurt by a wolf, I didn’t get back to the manor in time an-and when I did my mum was badly injured, my dad killed the rogue wolf and once my mum was being treated for her injuries my dad told me to get my things and to leave his pack.”

“But why? It wasn’t your fault.”

“Because I was supposed to stay there with her, it was my fault she was attacked.”

“Where was you?”

“My friend wanted to go on a run and asked for me to go with her, my mum told me to go and have some fun.” Shaking your head at the memory, you shrug your shoulders. “I shouldn’t have listened, I should have done what my dad said and stayed with her.”

“How old was you?”

“Fourteen.”

“Jesus, Y/n you was a child!”

“That didn’t matter I was weak in my dads eyes, he would have rather lose his pup then his mate.”

Bucky wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him and rested his head against yours.

“Y/n!” He called out for you one day as he tried to make sure that he didn’t trip over and drop the bag he was carrying. “Y/n?”

“I’m here!”

Turning to where your voice was coming from he saw you in the lake, the first thought that came into his head when he laid eyes on you was that you were the most beautiful thing in the world. “What are you doing in there?”

“I’m a fish!” You sarcastically say. “I’m bathing.”

“It’s about time, you started to smell.” He grins softly, as he turns his back on you to take out the food he stole from the compound for you to eat.

“I don’t smell no more. Don’t look, okay?” You say even though he’s already seen you naked a few times. Wrapping an old towel that you stole from someone’s backyard around you, you walk quickly past Bucky going straight into the tent.

“It’s going to rain tomorrow you know.” Bucky says as he gets the fire started.

“Is it?”

“Yeah so why don’t you-“

“Nope.”

“I didn’t even fin-“

“Nope Buckles.”

“Y/n.”

“Buckanna.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at the different names you were calling him, even if he did have a small smile on his lips. “Please just stay at my apartment, I don’t even live there.”

“Buckaroo, I’ve told you I’m okay.” You come out of the tent dressed and took a seat next to Bucky. “Now, what interesting stories do you have to tell me?”

He handed you your favourite snack and drink before taking his own out of the bag. “Well Sam did the splits when he slipped and he made sure everyone knew about it.”

“Was he okay?”

“Even though he told everyone he got split in half, he seemed alright to me.” Bucky’s lips curled up into a smile at hearing your laugh, he always wanted to hear more of the sound.

“He’s a bit dramatic isn’t he?” The super soldier nods with a chuckle. “So what else has happened?”

He fills you in on all the things that the team did in the two days that he didn’t see you, your face lighting up at hearing the crazy things they do. Bucky had asked you to meet them, even promising you that they wouldn’t judge or fear you but he also understood why you kept saying no. Even though your mum is human you was brought up to never trust them, you had been told that all humans were evil and would hurt you if you ever let them get too close. Bucky was confused because you had let him get close and he was surprised that you didn’t have a response to that, you just shrugged your shoulders.

Despite not wanting to meet Bucky’s friends you still liked hearing about them and all the things they get up to, he assured you that they were great people and that they would welcome you with open arms, you was just too shy to admit to Bucky that you liked it just being the two of you.

Little did you know that Bucky felt the same.

“Sir there is a fire.”

FRIDAY’s voice interrupted the movie that the whole team was watching in the cinema room, they were treating themselves to a relaxing day after a long week of missions, when they registered the words from the A.I they were all confused as the alarms didn’t go off, Tony asked where the fire was and the response had Bucky jumping up from his seat and running out of the room leaving everyone confused.

“In the woods, sir.”

Steve and Sam were right on the brunettes heels, from where they were they could see the whole woods ablaze. Steve tried to get Bucky to slow down but all he could hear was “Y/n. Y/n’s in there.”

They had no idea who Bucky was talking about and they couldn’t get him to slow down enough to even explain, but they continued to follow him.

Bucky’s heart was in his throat the closer he got to the woods, he kept calling out your name waiting to hear your voice to call back but there was nothing, his eyes bounced around to see which best way he could get inside and when he found an opening he took off running as fast as his legs would take him. He could hear Steve shouting for him to stop and then Sam telling Steve to stop but he wasn’t focused on that, he needed to find his little wolf.

“Buck slow down!” Steve shouted as he tried to keep up with his best friend.

Bucky wouldn’t, he couldn’t, he was trying to find the correct trail that would lead him to the wrecked tent that she was calling home despite his insistence that she could stay at the apartment he had, the one he never stayed at. “I need to find her!”

You was in your wolf form - true form as you always called it - trying to find some food, you came to a halt when you heard unfamiliar voices of two men, crouching low you made sure that they didn’t see you, you crept forwards until you could see them, gulping when you did.

Hunters.

They were standing there counting their kills, laughing and mocking and even mimicking the action of one of the deers, you let out a very low growl when one of the men unbuckled his belt and opened his zip and began urinating on the animals. You couldn’t understand why they were doing what they were doing, you only ate the animals you found because you were hungry, even as a wolf you hated doing it because you knew what it was like to be hunted.

Your heart stopped when a twig snapped behind you, instantly knowing it was a rabbit by the smell of it. The hunters heard it too.

“Shit, is that a wolf?”

“Yeah, fuck you know how much that things head will pay us? Come here little doggy we aren’t going to hurt you.”

Letting out a deep growl you hoped that they would get scared and just leave but sadly they just laughed. One of them pulled a gun out and fired a shot towards you and with that you took off. They were fast but you were faster.

Zigzagging and flinching as bullets were flying past you, you let out a sharp cry when a bullet struck your hind leg. Despite knowing the woods better than anyone else you couldn’t think straight, and because of that you were going in further and further away from your camp. A strangled cry came from you as fell hard on the ground, an arrow had embedded itself into your side. Scrambling to your feet you managed to keep running despite the agonising pain radiating through your entire body, hiding under an undergrowth you tried to keep your breathing under control.

The smell of smoke hit your nostrils as you continued to hide underneath the undergrowth, finally gaining the strength to come out of your hiding spot your eyes went wide with fear. The place that you had been calling home was on fire.

Rabbits were running around trying to find a way out - skidding to a halt when they saw you standing there, only continuing their escape when you moved slightly to the side. Trees were falling down around you, loud frantic heartbeats of the other animals were pounding in your ears, you needed to find a way out but you just couldn’t move.

You were panting heavily as the smoke filled your lungs, finally making your legs move you began trying to find a way out of the burning woods.

“Y/n!” Your head snapped in the direction you heard your name being called from but all that was seen was fire and trees falling down, you kept hearing your name from a familiar voice that you instantly recognised as Bucky’s and an unfamiliar voice was also calling your name.

Limping towards where the panicked voices where coming from you tried to keep away from the growing flames as well as trying not letting too much smoke in, you kept letting out deep howls in hopes that Bucky and this other person could hear you.

The pain of the bullet lodged into your back leg and the arrow embedded into your side was getting worse with each and every step you took towards safety. The last thing you see is a a blurry image of someone before you passed out.

When Bucky found you he felt like his heart had stopped beating, he couldn’t tell if you were alive or not, he couldn’t hear anything over the rushing sound of blood in his ears. Despite the fact that there was fire everywhere and growing by the seconds he took slow steps towards the body of his little wolf, seeing the arrow sticking out of you had his hands balling into fists.

Steve tried to get him to move so they could continue to find this Y/n girl, he did find it sad that they were looking at the dead body of a wolf - slightly shocked that one was even in the woods - but they needed to find the woman Bucky was so worried about. “Come on Buck, we need to find your friend.”

“She-hurt-I need to-“ Steve couldn’t make sense of Bucky’s words as the brunette got closer and to the wolf.

“Buck?” Steve watches as Bucky crouched down, slowly and gently lifting the wolf into his arms whispering ‘It’s okay sweetheart. I’ve got you’ to say the blond was confused was an understatement of the century.

“We need to leave.”

“B-but Y/n?”

Bucky shot him a questioning look before looking down at little wolf in his arms, his eyes bouncing back up to Steve’s. Bucky would have laughed at the confusion written all over his best friends face but right now wasn’t the time or place.

The team looked at the super soldiers with wide eyes and confusion but Bucky didn’t pay them any attention, continuing to run past them going straight to med bay. Cho was puzzled as to why Bucky was bringing a wolf into her lab, once he explained the truth Cho got to work, well once she managed to get the distressed man away from his friend and out of the room.

Steve watched as Bucky’s leg bounced up and down, his eyes not moving an inch from the door he was pushed out of by Cho. “Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you name the wolf Y/n?”

“No, her parents did.”

“What?”

He sighed, he didn’t know how Steve wasn’t understanding. “Y/n, yes? Is the wolf but she’s also human.”

“Wha-how?”

“Her parents, one human and the other just like Y/n.”

“Oh.” Steve nods and the pair quickly settles into silence.

When Cho comes out she informs Bucky that she did all that she could, his heart stopped beating assuming the worst only beating again when she says that it’s up to Y/n when she wants to wake up. Bucky walks fast into the room once Helen says he could go in and see her.

Running his fingers through your fur he told you to wake up and be fine, he begged you. “Please Y/n, I-I don’t want to lose you.” He sat there for hours just stroking your fur and watching as your chest rose and fell. Only leaving your side to stretch his legs. Steve had come in to check on the two of you, giving Bucky some food the brunette wanted to laugh as he watches Steve’s hand hover over your body.

“You can stroke her.”

“I-what if she doesn’t want me to.”

“She’s asleep she won’t know.”

Steve’s whole face lit up once his hand came into contact with your fur. “She’s so soft.”

Bucky hummed in agreement as he continued to eat the sandwich Steve had made for him, he began telling his best friend how they met and his first reaction of seeing her in her human form. To Steve it made so much sense hearing where Bucky had been sneaking off to every day when he wasn’t on missions, he smiled knowing his friend was happy for the first time since they were younger.

Not long after Steve left to get some sleep, Bucky went and sat on the floor - the softness of the chair was making him uncomfortable. His eyes had just closed when he heard rustling from the bed, before he could stand up you jumped out of the bed.

“Y/n, hey little wolf look at me.” He tried to get you to calm down but so far it wasn’t working your eyes were frantically searching around the unknown room, your tail was in between your legs and you were letting out low howls. “Y/n.”

Once he caught your attention he relaxed a little. “Hey pretty girl, you’re safe I promise.” Smiling instantly as you came running straight towards him and climbing on him. “I’ve got you pretty girl.”

He lets out a oof as you put your head on his chest he wraps his arms around you, whispering that you was safe when he felt your heart beat still beating erratically, careful of your injuries he ran his fingers through your fur as your eyes started to close. The next morning when Steve walked towards the room with Sam trailing behind him, they stop at the doorway at seeing a wolf lying on top of Bucky, too scared to go inside the room as the wolf began growling at them.

“Bucky.“ He shifted from his spot on the ground but didn’t open his eyes. “Wakey wakey Bucky!”

“Stop poking me Y/n/n.” He grumbled, moving his head further away from your finger as you kept poking him in his cheek.

“Well wake up then.”

“I don’t want to, I was having a nice dream.” Bucky reluctantly opens one eye, seeing you sitting on your knees with a big smile on your face he couldn’t help but smile too. “What time is it?”

“Eleven.”

“Oh right. Where did you get those clothes from?”

“The doctor gave me them.” You shrugged, the clothes were comfy although they were slightly big. “She’s nice I like her.”

“How long have I been asleep for?”

“Since yesterday, you lazy bum.”

“Shut up.” He winked at you, before you could reply back he quickly yet carefully pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, Helen said I was healing better than she expected.” You nodded when his hand reached out to the shirt you were wearing, lifting the material up he flinched seeing the large bruise.

“What happened?”

“There were hunters and they spotted me, they shot me in my leg and then I don’t know where it came from but I got shot by an arrow.” You point to your side. “I managed to hide then next thing I know the whole woods were on fire.”

Bucky somehow managed to pull you even closer to him and rested his head on your shoulder. “I should have been there, I’m sorry.”

“Then you would have been hurt or worse so please don’t be thinking like that, I’m fine now Bucky.”

“I don’t care, I should have be-“ his stops speaking when your hand covers his mouth.

“Stop.” Giving you his best glare, you just smiled in response well that was until he licked your palm. “That’s gross Buckles!”

He smiled in triumph as your hand instantly leaves his face. “Y/n?”

“Yes?”

“Where are you going to go? The woods are completely destroyed.”

“I-I’ll find somewhere else.” You shrugged. “Now don’t be sad that you’ll never see me ever again because I’ll draw you a picture of me for you to keep.” Winking at him causing him to laugh… sarcastically.

“You’ll do me a drawing? You’re the best.” His words dripping in sarcasm, it was his turn to wink when you rolled your eyes. “But I’m being serious Y/n, how about you stay here? I don’t think Tony will mind.”

“I-I don’t want to overstep and make anyone uncomfortable.”

“You wouldn’t, I’ll talk to Tony and if he says no then you’ll stay at my apartment, I don’t want you to leave.”

The thought of never seeing Bucky again even though he would probably find you and the thought of finding somewhere else to call home made your heart ache, plus you had lost what little things you had to your name in the fire so you nodded your head, a huge smile taking up Bucky’s face instantly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah but you have to promise that you won’t get mad at Tony if he says no, okay?”

“I promise.” Bucky said as he placed his left hand on your cheek, his eyes slowly moving between yours and your lips, as he slowly moved in you found yourself doing the same until your lips touched.

“I really like you Y/n.” He says once the two of you reluctantly pulled away from each other.

“I really like you too.”

Bucky leads you towards the common room after he asked FRIDAY where everyone was after you helped him stand once you two had finished kissing some more, hand in hand he took it slowly as you were walking with a limp and your side started to hurt. He promised that everything was going to be okay when he noticed your heart started to beat frantically.

Introducing you to the team and them to you, Bucky was right when he said that they were all great people who wouldn’t judge you, though they all found it fascinating. You was practically hiding behind Bucky as he asked Tony if you could stay at the tower, Bucky and the team expected a dog joke to come out of the billionaires mouth, all shocked when he didn’t make one.

“Welcome to our crazy family Y/n.” Tony says with a smile. “Barnes can show you to your room oh and make him take you shopping I assume you need clothes and stuff.”

“Thank you.” You say but Tony just waves you off with a gentle smile.

It’s been three months since the fire and living at the tower with Bucky and the team, if they were honest it took them a few weeks getting use to seeing a wolf walking around, and there’s only been one incident where it took all of them to get the SHIELD agents to stand down after they pulled their guns out on you. But overall it’s been great living with them and getting to know them all.

Bucky had showed you to a room next to his where you only spent one night on your own, the next night Bucky had knocked on your door and asked if he could sleep in bed with you, from there your room became his. Despite him taking you shopping for clothes, shoes and essentials you mainly wore his shirts, which truthfully he loved seeing.

Everyone knew that there was something going on between you and Bucky but never made any comments, you had confessed to him that he was your mate then explained what it meant when he looked confused. That night the two of you made love.

You had even become an unofficial member of the Avengers when the tower was attacked and you were taking the bad guys down a lot faster than the team could. Tony had created a suit that wouldn’t have you be naked once you turned to your human form, it took him a few tries to perfect it, he picked you up and spun the two of you around once had.

“Y/n?”

“Hi, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Taking off your suit you climbed into bed with Bucky wrapping his arms around you straight away.

“You didn’t don’t worry, how did the mission go?”

“It was good, nobody was hurt.”

“Good, get some sleep okay pretty girl.” He mumbled tiredly.

“You too pretty boy.”

“Funny. Night night doll, I love you.”

Your eyes shot wide open as those last words hit your brain. It was the first time he had said those words and by the way he was softly snoring he hadn’t quite realised what he had said. Smiling shyly to yourself you snuggled further into his warm embrace.

“I love you too Bucky.”

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77 | @samodivaa

[annwrites]

⸻ one in the same. part three. ⸻

· pairing: otto hightower x bastardtargfem!reader · type: part of a series · summary: otto follows you to a private spot of yours, you have a heated interaction in the royal gardens after, and then are sent an invitation to join him for dinner that evening. · word count: 3,173

You had left a trail of evidence behind you the day previous when you had finally entered the Red Keep after being absent all afternoon.

Otto had watched far afar as you traipsed through the hall with a soft smile on your face, your skirts soaked at the bottom, droplets of water following you upstairs and to your chambers. Even your curls had been wind-blown and wild, your skin flushed from the sun of the day.

He had been rather disappointed in you, then.

He'd wanted to believe it, simply so you would be one less thing set upon his metaphorical plate: that you could be trusted when left to your own devices. He'd lessened the volume of those he had watching you over the years as you grew older. It seemed that womanhood suited you—maturity came to you easily; responsibility. He'd thought you to be trusted.

Now, he considers, perhaps those beliefs had been misguided.

And so, today, he had followed you—from a distance—out of the Keep, through the gardens, and down a rocky embankment to where you finally slipped off your shoes and waded into the warm, clear water, turning your face upward, towards the sun, as your eyes fluttering closed.

He had leaned against a nearby tree, watching you, waiting, hand resting upon the pommel of his sword—ready to be wielded at a moment's notice.

But, as the minutes passed, you began to walk through the wet sand, bending down, grabbing a shell, studying it, then dropping it before repeating the action again, eventually showing interest in a nearby fish swimming beneath the calm current.

And then he wonders for how long you have been repeating this routine of daily escape. Wonders how no one else has ever noticed you slipping away at the height of day all on your lonesome with not a soul to protect or guard you.

How he is the only one to have taken note of it.

Finally, he clears his throat. "What, precisely, is it, which you are doing?"

You jump in surprise, swiftly turning round to the familiar voice behind you.

You cross your arms, displeased that your new hiding spot has been discovered. "What does it look like?"

"It looks like you are ruining your gown."

You shrug. "I have others."

He steps closer to the shoreline. "You are making a spectacle of yourself."

You glance around, then back to him. "To the seagulls?"

He rolls his eyes. "I thought that perhaps you were meeting someone here. Someone...untoward."

You frown. "So you came to spy on me." You sigh. "I come here to be alone. And not be cooped up inside all day."

"The gardens are perfectly suitable for—"

You reach down, splashing water in his direction and he steps back. "Young lady—"

"Old man," you quickly reply, your lip twitching.

"You will stop this behavior at once."

You raise a brow. "Is that a command?"

He folds his arms behind his back. "An order, yes."

You shrug. "I don't take orders from you."

He holds out his hand. "Come, so I may escort you back inside. It's not safe for you here, all alone."

You pick up a shell from under the water. "I have you here now, don't I?"

You glance to his sword, then to him. "You do know how to use it, yes?"

He shakes his head, rolling his eyes. "You are being quite mischievous today, which my tolerance is running low for."

You turn back around. "Then leave me to my own devices. As I stated, I come here to enjoy my own company," you state flatly.

You grow quiet then, picking up another shell, unnerved by the feeling of him just standing there, watching you.

You speak again then, quietly. "How could you suspect such things of me? After all these years, you should know me better than most. I would surmise as much, at least."

He sighs. "Forgive me, My Lady." He watches as the soft, sheer fabric of your light-blue gown sways in the water around your feet.

"Why does it matter so to you what I do, where I go, who I hold company with?" You turn around.

He chews the inside of his cheek. "As Hand of the King, it is my duty to—"

You roll your eyes, uninterested in hearing polished excuses.

You are both silent, only the sound of birds and lapping water and waves breaking the stillness of the day, until he steps closer once again. "Someone must look after you, Y/N."

"I am doing quite well on my own. Thank you."

He most-certainly knows otherwise; simply by the daily sight of your previously slim frame growing thinner day-by-day. At times, dark circles underneath your tired eyes from lack of rest.

He is then briefly tempted to tell you just how far he's gone for your safety and well-being before, but refrains. Such as the story of your nightguard from a handful of years ago.

It had been the comments he had made, which had been overheard by a passing maid, which had stoked Otto's ire. He had 'jested' about how he wished one night you would finally ask to hold audience with him in the dark of your chambers.

Otto had had his tongue ripped out with hot pincers, and then he had been summarily executed the next morn for the inexcusable offense.

He had explained to your father that it had been due to his no longer being able to be entrusted with not just your safety, but also your virtue, which was, of course, true. But it had been more than that.

It had filled him, personally, with cold contempt, to be made aware of such vulgar utterances being made toward you. He could not let such a crime go with only a simple warning.

He had then appointed one of his own personal guards to stand watch outside your door from the next night forward, able to sleep easy then, knowing you were being well looked-after.

He steps closer, wading into the water himself—thankful his boots keep the substance out as he reaches for you. His fingers slip beneath your sleeve, which has slid from your shoulder, easing it back into place, before his hand comes to rest once more at his side.

You stare up at him, mind now utterly vacant.

He offers you his arm. "Shall we?"

The two of you walk slowly through the royal gardens—the feel of your arms wrapped around his own—the soft fabric of his tunic beneath your fingers quite...unusual.

Before the day of Queen Aemma's funeral, the two of you had never touched before. Had stopped so much as looking in one another's general direction as the years went on, and your disdain for each other grew to unimaginable levels.

Now...you are unsure how you think or feel about him. At least slight annoyance toward the continual spying. Then there was also the fact that he had always kept a firm hand in your life throughout the years, with your father's consent, of course... All because of the circumstances of your birth, which had been totally out of your control.

You think, occasionally, he would've been far more pleased had you been stillborn, or never conceived at all.

Then again, sometimes you feel the same in return. At the very least, wishing he'd return to Oldtown.

You look up to him, watching as his long strands of brown hair flit carelessly in the wind, considering.

"Why the sudden change?"

He raises a brow, glancing down to you, then back ahead. "You will need to elaborate, Y/N."

"Your sudden interest in me. Rather, our frequent interactions as of late, initiated by you."

He guides you over to a marble bench, and he leans back against it.

You rest your hands in your lap.

He stares ahead, at a bush of yellow roses. "I did not initiate the interaction in the library," he states, looking at you.

You cross your ankles. "The Sept."

He's quiet for awhile, observing the people which pass the two of you, their eyes filled with mild curiosity at the sight of such an enigmatic man out and about in the gardens for a day. "You were not eating."

Your brows furrow. "What?"

"I was informed of as much by your maid. Practically starving yourself out of grief. Not sleeping, crying at all hours. And yet you did not speak to anyone of your...suffering. Nor do you ever."

He folds his hands. "And then during the Queen's service, you stood off to the side. All alone. I...feared, perhaps, that I had created such circumstances for you. Alienated you from so many. It grieved me to think of myself as being the one responsible for your pain. I suppose lending an ear for an hour was my way of trying to remedy the situation."

You turn away, also facing forward, frowning. "You think spending an hour with me is enough to mend the damage you have done over a period of years?"

"Hardly."

"So, it was not about me at all, then. It was about your guilt. I'm astonished you feel such an emotion to begin with."

He opens his mouth to reply, but you cut him short.

"You wish to right past wrongs?" You turn toward him once again. "Leave me be. Stop having me spied on and followed—by you or anyone else. I have more than proved myself to be...good-natured and...and well-behaved. And yet you—it's almost as if you want me to make a mistake, so that you might mete out my punishment."

You stand then, suddenly enraged, no longer caring about his 'good intentions', if that is what he indeed thinks of them as.

"All I have ever desired is to be left alone. By everyone. Most of all you. So, if you are agreeable in granting me this, then, I will, in return, afford you my forgiveness—not that I think you truly care whether you have it either way. But, if that is what it takes for me to finally be rid of you, then you are welcome to it."

Your hands are balled into small fists at your sides now, your body leaned in toward his, shoulders rapidly rising and falling as you scowl at him.

Meanwhile, he stares up at you, seemingly at-ease—at least from the outside—which only serves to anger you further.

He stands then as well, towering over you, and you know he is doing it on purpose—trying to demean you; make you feel small and powerless. The way he has always made you feel.

He rests his arms behind his back, looking down his nose at you—smug prick. "I bid you good day, My Lady."

He steps away then, leaving you fuming.

You pace around your room, still seething, with half-a-mind to break something. But, you're sure if you were to do as much, whatever servant that cleans it up will report the destroyed item back to him, and he will then fill with satisfaction at having gotten such a reaction out of you, due to the very lack of his own.

So, you instead walk over to your bed, grab a pillow, then bury your face in it and scream.

Controlling arsehole. You wonder how Alicent can stand it: having him for a father. How did his wife ever tolerate him? Spending just an afternoon in his company has already driven you to the brink of madness—and with him having said so little, at that.

He is rather adept at it: knowing just how to get under your skin, isn't he?

You flop back on your mattress, staring up at the canopy. Even at a distance, he is still always with you. Buried inside your head.

You eventually groan in frustration, closing your eyes.

"My Lady?"

Your brows furrow and you shove your face into your pillow, moaning in response to being woken.

"My Lady, you have a letter."

You peek one eye open slowly, then sit up, yawning. "Hm?"

You stare at your handmaid in confusion and gently take the piece of stationary from the silver tray resting upon her hand. "Thank you, Lya."

She nods, smiling softly before exiting your chambers.

You roll your eyes in irritation when you see the wax seal stamped upon the correspondence: the Hightower heraldry. You sigh, breaking it open, and are greeted with one line, only a handful of words: We shall speak further over dinner tonight. —Otto

You roll your eyes, crumpling the piece of parchment into a ball, and toss it across the room while falling back onto your featherbed. The nerve. Not to even ask, but, rather, tell you where you will be dining this evening.

You resolve to stay in your chambers. After all, what can he really do if you refuse to join him? Send guards to drag you out and to his room instead, all while you scream and thrash like a shadowcat in their grip?

You roll your head to the side, looking out the open doors which lead onto your room's balcony and sigh at the sight of the setting sun.

You won't.

You aren't going.

Absolutely not.

There is a knock at Otto's door—an expected one—to which he replies simply, "come".

His guard announces a predicted presence, to which he consents to having join him.

It's once the doors have shut that you speak.

"What do you want?" You spit, staring at him from across the room, quickly taking in your surroundings.

You've never seen his chambers before. You had imagined them being far tidier, in fact. Instead, the settee to your left has cloaks and trousers throw haphazardly over the back of it, various tools set upon the mantle over the hearth. His bed, to your right, is unmade, the sheets a mess, and next to it is his disaster of a work desk.

Similar to your room, there is a twin set of doors that he stands near—currently closed—which open onto a balcony; one curtain drawn back, the other hanging loosely.

He rolls his eyes. "Not a very polite greeting."

"It is in response to a not-so-polite demand for my presence."

He looks up from the book in his grip. "It was not a demand, it was a request."

You take a step forward. "It was not worded as such, which I'm sure you are well-aware of. However, if it was only a request, then, perhaps, I shall take my leave."

You go to turn, but pause when you hear his reading material slam shut.

"Are we truly going to spend all evening arguing?"

You turn slightly back to him. "As I said, I can leave."

He comes to you, looking down, while you bend your neck to look up, meeting his green gaze. "Must you always be so difficult?"

You fold your arms behind you, mimicking his posture. "What was it you said the other day? Something about us being one-in-the-same, in regards to our lack of faith. I think, now, perhaps, we are similar in our difficult dispositions as well."

You narrow your eyes. "You grate on my nerves, Ser."

He steps away from you, seating himself at his dining table. "Likewise."

Arrogant—

"Are you going to join me, then, or simply stand there and watch?"

You sigh in exasperation, seating yourself heavily across from him.

He begins to serve you first, roast duck and a bowl of leek soup, with corn fritters and black bread, and then himself.

You're not entirely surprised that he doesn't have his servants doing everything for him—he has always been a rather private man. If he did, however, you're sure his room would be in far better standing.

You slice through the tender meat before you, taking a bite, and it's only after your third one that you notice he's watching you—observing—not having taken a single bite of his own meal.

You swallow. "What?"

He picks up his cutlery, not replying—simply content to see you eating once again.

You dab at your lips with your napkin. "What are we meant to be speaking further about, again?"

He pours you a small glass of wine, then sets the decanter down before looking to you, over the candle settled in the middle of the table.

"You have a misconception that it is your forgiveness which I desire."

You grip your knife more tightly, which he takes note of, but does not let unsettle him. He could have you pinned to the table at a moment's notice if you tried it. He may be old, but not weak.

"No?" You ask, staring him down.

He leans back, taking a sip from his goblet. "Perhaps it is merely your company."

Your grip loosens, expression now blank. You blink at him.

He takes a bite from his bread then, picking up a scroll from the small table set next to him, reading it over.

You look down to your plate, pushing your food around. "Why?" You ask quietly.

He doesn't look to you when he replies. "I fail to see how it can be any cause of harm if the two of us try to come to an...understanding."

Your eyes meet his then.

"I understand your apprehension to trust me by any measure. After all you have endured by my hand."

He sighs, leaning forward, folding his hands atop the table. "But I see you, withering away. More-so now than ever before, after Aemma's passing. As Hand of the King—as I tried to tell you earlier today, before I was interrupted—it is part of my duty to look after the welfare of not just the Realm, but the royal line. And that includes you. I fear you one day slipping away. And I mean that literally, as well as in a metaphorical sense."

You grab your glass, simply so you have something to occupy your hands. "I would never harm myself."

"Have you not already, simply by refusing to eat?"

Your head jerks up. That...that was why he had invited you to dinner? You could not be trusted to sup on your own. This way he would be in control of it, too.

You swallow down the lump in your throat. He doesn't care. No. Not truly.

It isn't about you, per se, but, rather, the King's daughter. If you 'slipped away', as he so delicately put it, it would leave the crown one less piece of cattle to sell off and breed when the time comes for such things to occur.

"What do you want from me, Otto?"

"Merely your company, until I can trust you in being solely in your own once again."

You slowly twirl your glass, which you hold over your lap. "And how long will that take?"

He shrugs, picking up his knife and fork again. "That is entirely up to you."