#and cupping the back of your neck to press you face directly on his di-

[moonlight-prose]

saw your inbox was open for old man logan thoughts…

i’m so feral for this man

wanna patch him up after that first fight scene UGH

okay but patching him on your knees caged between his thick thighs as he blatantly smokes the rest of his already bitten up and soaked cigar. there really isn't much patching up needed. he's healing slowly. he just insists on the warmth of your lips as the best fucking medicine he's ever had.

[lorei-writes]

Elements

Kanetsugu x Reader Fluff-adjacent/Comfort-adjacent (Conflict) ~700 words Eros (Sensual Love) + “I find it quite difficult to keep my composure when you are around." + Kiss + Thrill

Loves, it feels so good to feel well enough to write. It is unreal. I'm so incredibly happy I could write a whole essay on it.

My second entry for Shapes of Love Creation Challenge @violettduchess and I are hosting. It is also my first entry for @queengiuliettafirstlady 's Love Booth Challenge... And a request from my inbox :)

Content Warnings: war (implied)

Thunder churns in the wiry clouds above, lightning whips striking the impertinent soil, so littered with arrows and discarded armour that little of it remains untouched. A drop spills from the heaven’s cup – to the memory of the fallen, for their honour… to conceal the drops that follow, for skies too do cry. Bellowing winds claw their way from below the ground. The nights, their sole objective is to haunt. But not you. Not you. For the love of any god or gods, of anything that is holy and is real, provided that any such things exist at all. Not. You.

Thunder churns in the wiry clouds above, lightning whips striking the impertinent soil, so littered with arrows and discarded armour that little of it remains untouched. A drop spills from the heaven’s cup – to the memory of the fallen, for their honour… to conceal the drops that follow, for skies too do cry. Bellowing winds claw their way from below the ground. The nights, their sole objective is to haunt. But not you. Not you. For the love of any god or gods, of anything that is holy and is real, provided that any such things exist at all. Not. You.

Fist slams against the table. Metal candle holder plinks; the inside of the tent is dimly lit, although even that little could be considered a luxury. Had the circumstances not required it, the commanding strategist would also resign himself to the cold embrace of darkness, treading the shallows of memories still too fresh to bear any salty tears. Now, however, Kanetsugu wishes to howl for a different reason. His eyes have lost their shine, their wisteria having withered and rotted away, only his canines glistening with spit as he near snarls. Barely not a beast yet not fully human, he seems to struggle against invisible snares.

“Why are you here?” he demands.

You meet his gaze. You meet his hurt. But since you have caused it, you cannot just comfort it away. “Where do you think I should be?”

“In Azuchi. In Kasugayama. Hell, for all I care, Aoba or Yonezawa. But not here!”

“Yeah?! And do you think I could be there?! Do you think I could just wait?!” Your palms hit the map, strikes delivered to depicted mountain ranges echoing through the very real ground underneath your feet, materialising in form of quakes brought forth by Kanetsugu’s steps. You turn to take on his storm directly. Sparks fly off his gritted teeth and electricity raises the hair at the back of your neck.

“So pretending to be a soldier was the better option?!” he thunders in your face.

“I —”

“I could have sent you to your death!”

You do not reply. There are no words you could offer him, not when even the flame trembles as his hands reach for you, half-expecting to pass through your flesh.

“How do you think I would feel if you died?” he whispers, hot breath spilling over your lips as he draws close. Kanetsugu cups your cheeks in his rough hands, desperate fingertips pressing into your skin to quench his disbelief. You are real. You are real. You still are real and it almost hurts, but you do not protest against him, do not tear him away from yourself. “If I killed you?”

His lips fall over yours like heavy rain, the emotion he so withheld flooding you as he allows his dams to break. Forceful like the elements, Kanetsugu presses on and pushes you back, until you have no choice but to drown in him. The table shakes and your hair spreads over the mapped out lakes, ink depths emerging to steal you, to claim you as theirs — and they would, most definitely would. But you cling to your love, he your disaster and he your only haven, the lifeline both enabling and preventing you from sinking to the very bottom of dismay. Your fingers grasp at his robes, draw him closer still, let go just to travel upstream and to anchor themselves in his hair. You don’t need to breathe. Not when Kanetsugu is there, not when he overfills you with his groans, not when his hips rock against yours, so strained with need and —

Kanetsugu lets go of you. Lashes shield his eyes, so you cannot gauge the state of his soul. Unsure of whether any turbulent currents continue to stir turmoil underneath his skin, you stare at him, only for your vision to be cut short as your foreheads touch.

“I find it quite difficult to keep my composure when you are around,” Kanetsugu rasps. “But if you were gone, I’d lose myself fully.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’d better be.”

--

Tag List: @violettduchess @the12thnightproject @oda-princess @tele86 @rinaririr @cheese-ception @queengiuliettafirstlady @sh0jun @lucyw260

+requested by: @bestbryn

Tell me if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)

[kit-walk3r]

You mentioned you could flesh some of the Evans as Parents out into oneshots and asked if anyone would have interest in some in particular... well I gotta say that dad Kit and dad Colin are way too adorable hahaha... if it's okay could you write oneshots for these two parenting pretty please? thank you 💗

Thank you for the request! I’m glad that people liked my Evans as parents headcanons and wanted to read more! This one is for Colin but Kit will be coming along soon. Enjoy 💓

I’ll Always Be Here (dad!Colin Zabel x fem!reader)

A bad case really shakes Colin up and he needs to be with his little girl.

Warnings: mention of a child death (the same one from Colin’s case in MoE)

Note: My first Colin fic! It’s a little short but I hope people still like it. Also I had no clue what to name Colin’ daughter so I went on a random name generator and got Millie. It’s cute so it works 🤷‍♀️

It had been a tough day, one of those days you just want to forget. One of those days you never wanted to face. Colin had to do the unthinkable today. He’d had to tell two parents that their ten year old daughter had died, the girl they still hoped was alive out there. After months of investigation she had finally been found, just not in the condition Colin, the parents and probably everyone hoped for. It had been an awful day.

After hearing about the breakthrough in Colin’s case you knew you couldn’t go to bed before he got home, knowing that he’d need your support as soon as he stepped through the door. So, after you’d bathed Millie and put her to bed you settled down on the couch and put on some random movie, waiting for Colin to come home.

It was 2am when he finally got home, and you were still awake on the sofa waiting for him.

Colin looked utterly defeated as he stepped through the door. His face was pale, dark circles were under his eyes and just the way he held his body was sad. You were instantly up from the couch and pulling Colin into your arms, hugging him. His arms automatically wrapped around you and he clung to you tightly, pressing his face into your neck. You felt a dampness against your skin and you realised he was crying.

“She was only ten,” he cried and you tightened your hold on him, just being there for him. He needed you right now, and you were going to be the best comfort you could be.

“You found her, Colin,” you murmured, pulling back from the hug to look him directly in his bloodshot eyes. You cupped his cheek. “You found her and you brought her home.”

“But not alive,” Colin’s voice was barely audible, but you could still hear the heartbreak. He sniffed and wiped his eyes free of tears. “Is Millie in bed?”

You nodded. “Yeah she’s been asleep for a few hours. She went down straight away tonight. No fuss.”

Colin cracked a smile. “That’s my girl,” he said softly. “Do you mind if I go see her?”

“Colin, you don’t need to ask,” you rolled your eyes before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Of course you can go see her.”

You knew why Colin wanted to go and sit with Millie. He’d always popped his head round the door if she was in bed when he got home from work, just to see her and make sure she was okay, but the past few weeks he’d been spending a lot longer in there. Some nights he’d sit in there for hours, not wanting to let Millie out of his sight. This case he was working on had made him paranoid, and although Colin and Millie together was such a lovely sight, it also broke your heart, knowing the stress and heartache he was going through trying to find this poor girl. You just knew Colin was imagining what if the missing girl was Millie.

Colin made his way to Millie’s room. It was lit up with a purple butterfly shaped night light which illuminated Millie’s tiny face. He grabbed the rocking chair from the corner of the room and dragged it so that it was next to his daughter’s bed, so he could sit and admire her and remind himself that Millie was home and safe.

“I’ll always be here for you,” Colin murmured as he softly ran a hand over his little girl’s barely there hair. “No matter where you are, or how old you are. When you’re a grumpy teenager who wants nothing to do with her dad. When I’m old and you’re the one pushing me around. When you don’t think you need me anymore. I’ll still be here. I’ll always be here.”

Colin’s eyes began to water once again at the thought of what he had seen today and he quickly wiped away the tears with his spare hand. “You’re my absolute world,” he whispered to sleeping Millie. “You’re everything to me. I’m so lucky to have you, Millie Zabel, and I would do anything for you, anything you want me to,” he wiped his eyes again. “And I’ll never let anybody hurt you.”

He pressed a kiss to her sleeping head, before getting up and heading to his own room where you were waiting for him, making sure to leave the door open a crack so he could hear if his little girl needed her daddy.

•———•

I wanted dad!Colin to be a happier fic but this was the first plot which came to mind and I thought it fit some of what I wrote in my headcanons about Colin being protective

Taglist: @jellyluvr @howtobesasha @dewberryobssesed @luv4evan @kaismanwich @violetharmonstwin @daylas-life @mariefics

Want to join my taglist? Just reply here!

[sleepingdeath-light]

coffee break ; 18+

requested by ; anonymous (part of kink bingo event)

word count ; 1310

content ; unprotected sex, creampie

fandom ; cookie run

pairing ; espresso cookie x afab!reader

read also on ; ao3

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

The new term at Parfaedia Academy was well underway and you'd never seen your partner quite so stressed. You were sure that he hadn't left his office in days and, being the naturally concerned spouse, you'd decided to try and coax him away from his endless stacks of paperwork and books however you could.

Initially you'd tried to bribe him with food and drink; entering his office with a timid knock and a loving smile as you plopped the silver tray down on one of the few clear spaces on the table. A steaming cup of coffee and a plate full of assorted pastries was sure to catch his attention, you reasoned. Yet he'd merely nodded in acknowledgement and, without even looking up from his work, grabbed the cup and brought it to his lips.

And, dejected, you'd wished him well in a sigh and quietly left the room to begin scheming. There was no use fighting him when he got like this, after all.

But it was in that book-laden hallway where you’d stumbled upon a much better scheme — one that was sure to get a reaction out of him and that would, at the very least, get him away from the pages for a few minutes. So it was with a mischievous grin on your face that you left to go and prepare, your source of inspiration (a book they really shouldn’t have had at the academy) in hand as you went.

He wouldn’t even know what hit him.

————

It had taken you a short half hour to get together everything you needed for your plan and by the time you were waiting outside of his office you were sure that you'd never felt quite as confident before in your life. Something about wearing one your boyfriend's spare work shirts and having to sneak around the school after hours really did wonders for your mindset — made you feel dangerous and desirable, like you could get exactly what you wanted without process.

So, with renewed confidence and vigour, you knocked thrice on the door and swiftly let yourself in, making quick work of turning the lock behind you and hurrying over to your boyfriend. Of course he paid you no mind, remaining diligently hunched over as he divided his attention amongst a few dozen stray papers and tomes, only lifting his head to address you when you were directly beside him and cleared your throat as loudly as you could.

"Sweetheart I'm busy, can't it -" his words died in his throat when his eyes finally fell on your partially undressed form. Scanning over you from head to toe over the brim of his glasses and his pupils dilating more and more with each bit of bare skin he saw. From the popped open collar of his shirt to the several undone buttons that exposed the very centre of your chest, to the oversized sleeves that hung over your hands to your exposed thighs and legs that his shirt didn't quite cover. Then he cleared his throat and, not looking away from your chest, continued in a lower tone. "What was it you wanted to discuss?"

You bit back a grin at that and moved forwards to wrap your arms loosely around his neck, playing lightly with his hair as you spoke. "You've been working so hard lately," you gave an exaggerated pout and you felt his warm hands slide up the backs of your thighs before coming to rest on your ass, "and I've been so lonely... can't you take a break? For me?"

And after less than a moment of deliberation, he gave in to your obvious need and pressed his lips to yours before turning you around and bending you over his desk. The area that you were bent over was, thankfully, rather flat and clear, giving you the room to shift and move when he spread your legs and forcefully shoved his shirt up and over your ass until it was halfway up your back.

Then, after the hurried unbuckling of his belt, you felt the leaking tip of his hardening dick pressing against your entrance, pausing only for the briefest of moments to adjust his position before he began to slowly push himself into your wet, warm pussy.

————

You could feel him stretching you out further and further as he entered you, revelling in the mixture of pain and pleasure as he filled you to the brim. As he finally bottomed out, you moaned whorishly and when he began to move again moments later, you whimpered and arched your back up into him — biting back a smile when he leaned forwards and pressed his lips against the skin behind your ear in a shockingly intimate gesture.

Though that gentle intimacy didn't last long as he quickly slipped back into a familiar rhythm that had your head falling forwards and your nails digging into the edge of the desk to steady yourself. Fast, shallow and perfectly angled so that he was repeatedly bullying his swollen head into your g-spot with each and every thrust. A pace that had you bouncing back and forth across the desk, just barely kept from going over the other side by digging your elbows into the wood and by the strong grip of your professor partner on your waist as he relentlessly pounded into your greedy cunt.

Before long the room was quickly filled with the sounds of your fucking — which made you thankful for the empty state of the institution. All sorts of moans and groans and grunts and whimpers mixed with the wet slapping sound of your hips colliding; the symphony of your love making that complimented the gradual, creeping approach of your climax. The cries of “yes” and “more” and “please” and the moaned cusses that spilled from your parted lips in an endless stream of obscenity as your breathing transitioned into quick, shallow pants to soothe your oxygen-deprived lungs. The slapping of skin against skin counted the waves of pleasure that wracked you to your core, the onslaught that left your limbs trembling on the brink of collapse and your neglected clit aching and throbbing with the intensity of what was to come. The groans and grunts that he breathed against the back of your neck whilst he took you from behind tattooed themselves in your mind, echoing endlessly as the world beyond him — his mouth, his voice, his hands, his cock — began to fade away into a meaningless void of creeping white blurs and unshed tears of pleasure.

All of the stimulation soon became too much for you and you felt yourself teetering over the edge of climax, a hair’s breadth away from the release you so sought. And that release soon came when, after a minute of his pace faltering and slowing, your lover met his end with a final, deep thrust into your dripping entrance and filled you with his seed. Damn near falling on top of you as he allowed his release to slowly seep out and trickle down your thighs — soon joined by your own cum as you orgasmed moments later.

His name on your lips just as proudly as he had groaned out yours as you soaked his length, your thighs and the crotch of his trousers with the intensity of your climax. Tears of satisfaction streaming down your face and your voice cracking as you cried out for him until your shaking limbs finally gave out and you collapsed down onto the desk, laying limp as you panted beneath and in time with him — feeling the slowing thump of his heart against your back as he came down from his high.

Overwhelmed and full and tired, but satisfied and proud. You’d finally gotten him to take a break — and you, frankly, felt you deserved to be rewarded for your efforts.

[turtlepoweredstories]

Hm maybe some groping and public abuse? Where others watch?

(Prompts: Groping, Public Abuse, Voyeurs)

The crush of the bodies in the bus held all of you fairly locked in place. Your nose was full of the smell of the aftershave of the man directly in front of you. The consistent rock and movement of the bus and the shuffle of everyone stuck standing pressed in on all sides. You had one arm up holding onto the overhead bars as the bus rounded a corner, the sway and readjustment of bodies making it a little longer till you realized the hand on your ass wasn't an accident.

You looked ahead into the eyes of the well dressed man in front of you with his arm snaked around your side to allow him to cup one of your ass cheeks. You open your mouth to say something… but nothing comes out. He smirks at this and pulls you forward against him so you can feel how hard he is already through his suit.

As his fingers dig in harder and you can feel his grip spreading your ass cheeks your mouth opens once more. You're not sure if you'll curse him out or scream, but before you get a chance a hand slides around from behind and covers your mouth. Your sounds of dismay are muffled as a second hand reaches around to grope and paw at your tits. A body presses in from behind trapping you between the two of them, silent, and at their mercy. You don't know if they are working together or if the one behind you simply saw what was happening and decided to join in. The men continue their relentless assault at your expense, bus stops come and go with no sign of them letting up. The one in front slides a hand down the front of your pants, into your underwear and begins fingering you right there on the bus as the other one holds you in place.

Your eyes lock onto another woman sitting down closer to the back and her eyes clock the hand covering your mouth and the two men writhing against you. You feel hope bloom in your chest as she leans into the guy sitting next to her and whispers in his ear, pointing in your direction. That hope dies as she smiles and gives you a wicked look, the guy next to her kissing her neck, and sliding a hand down between her legs as she guides his arm. Her mouth opens in a small gasp that you can see even from where you are as his fingers sink in and he starts to pleasure her as they both watch you being abused.

The one behind you has worked one of your tits free from your top and your bra and is pinching and tweaking your nipple till tears come to your eyes. The one in front is working his fingers over your clit furiously as you squirm and try to close your legs. You can feel your body shaking slightly as he forces an orgasm out of you against your will. He pulls his hand out of your pants and uses wet fingers to force your face towards his. He grins at you and plants a kiss on the tip of your nose. You feel him unzip his pants and press your hand against his exposed cock, wrapping his fingers around yours and forcing you to stroke his length. You wrench your face from his grip but not the one covering your mouth, just in time to look back at the woman in the seat as she pulls her partner's hand from between her legs, bringing it up to her face and lustfully licking and sucking at the wetness on his fingers. She locks eyes with you as she pushes his fingers into her own mouth and suckles them with her eyes fluttering. You can almost hear the pop as she pulls the digit free from her lips, stands suddenly, eyes locked on you, and moves towards you in the crush, dragging her partner along by the hand.

You can feel the hard on of the one behind you pressing into your ass as he tries to free it at the same time as he pushes down on your pants. The cock in your hand is starting to throb as he leans in and pushes himself against you, letting out a low groan in your ear as his cum splatters over your exposed tummy and pussy. You watch the couple advancing through the tightly packed crowd hungrily and deliriously wonder how far all these perverts will manage to get with your helpless form before something finally stops them…

[xanthiccircuitry]

More angst under the cut?

Even though he knows it's useless, Zero's name drops from his lips, the word falling to the ground like glass, his voice rough, vocalizer malfunctioning from the sheer damage he's taken. Zero's eyes glow brighter for a moment, the viral purple shimmering blue. Just a moment as the shadow falls over the blue Hunter.

His wounds crackle for a moment, he feels his body going into shock, processor frantically suspending some systems to preserve his power core and IC chip. His weapons systems, his movement modules, anything it could. His breathing grows more ragged, eyes fixing on the ceiling as his vision slides around, blurring and sharpening in a rhythm, like his heartbeat.

His fingers twitch as Zero's boot gets close enough to tap against his severely wounded arm; he barely reacts to the pain, eyes watering but chest hitching on an additional noise.

Zero lifted his blade once more, angling the tip directly at his power core. He would barely have to push down to destroy it. He would barely have to exert himself to finish X off. X swallowed hard and tried harder to speak. He just needed one more sentence as the energy blade started to burn his chestplate, the red former Hunter hesitating for a moment, unlike him.

"I love you," he whispered, damn it, this was next to impossible! He swallowed hard and pushed through the pain, "I know it's not your fault."

There. Finally. He didn't know if Zero would ever come back from his state, but if he did, X wanted him to know that he forgave him.

Zero froze. His body didn't even tremble, he didn't blink, nothing. A shudder rocked through X, his circuits sparking painfully, drawing a harsh breath and a jerk.

A tear rolled down Zero's cheek, running over the edge of his jaw and dripping onto his chestplate, his damaged, but nowhere near as badly, chestplate. The blond shut his eyes. X didn't, he committed every detail of the battle-damaged blond to memory.

Zero dropped to his knees, saber clicking off, and pulled X into his arms. X flinched, a sound of pain forced from his chest, and the blond cupped his head, tucking his face down in X's neck. Zero placed the flat of his saber handle against X's chest. X waited for the brief pain, closing his eyes and curling into Zero's chest.

"I'm sorry." Zero's voice is so soft, he sounds regretful, saber handle pushing more firmly into place, just waiting for Zero to activate the blade.

A voice rang out and Zero's head snapped up, eyes flashing, searching for the threat to them both.

"Sigma." Zero growled lowly, dropping his saber into X's lap, pulling the blue Hunter protectively to his chest, turning his body to shield the smaller Hunter, leveling his buster.

The hated voice laughed and X felt Zero lurch against him with a sharp gasp, his buster firing despite the harsh blow. X forced power to divert and lifted a shaking buster, charging it alongside Zero, pointing it in the same direction and firing in unison once more.

X managed to force his eyes open to find deeply clear blue. Zero's face was twisted in regret, tears running heavier down his cheeks. X felt Zero's damaged circuits crackle viciously. Were they both going to die here?

The voice died. Sigma died. Again. X didn't dare to hope Zero was back and slumped against him. The weight of the saber burned in his lap but he couldn't lift it, his body was running out of power after that stunt, if it wasn't before. Zero's knuckle came under his chin, followed by his hand sliding over his jaw, and lifted it.

Zero pressed their crystals together, chest hitching, as though he knew that both of them couldn't survive such wounds. They would need medical attention, severe medical attention, but X couldn't walk, and with his freshly deep wound, Zero couldn't carry him.

So he held him. X wondered how this could've been different. He wrote the feeling of Zero holding him into his heart, he lasered the sound of Zero crying and saying those words into his power core, he etched Zero's face into every single one of his circuits.

"I love you too."

A glitching noise rose, a final cruelty, a last violent punishment before one last bolt of fire burned through the air.

Zero's back arched and X felt pain unlike any other punch through his chest. His processor shorted out briefly, eyes wide and unseeing, and then booted back on to find them slumped on the ground, Zero's body smoking partially on top of him.

X didn't have the strength to speak any other words. His body started to cool, circuits dying down, his core finally giving up the ghost; what else could it do with a massive hole punched through it? Only it wasn't Zero's blade that had done the damage.

His vision faded on the sight of his creator speaking over him, though he couldn't hear him, and he shut his eyes. His wounded heart pulsed, Zero's return throbbing there, the words of love coiled tightly in the dying charge.

Rest came. Peaceful darkness came. Death tucked him and Zero, intertwined, under his warm, dark cloak, and praised them for a job well done.

Their souls curled into one another. Together. Peaceful at last. Cyber elves holding onto one another. The Hunters would be able to continue without them. Hadn't they done enough?

- -+ + MEMORY CORE SEARCH: ZERO + +- -

- -+ + 1TB INSTANCES FOUND + +- -

- -+ + MEMORY CORE DELETE: ZERO + +- -

- -+ + LOADING. . . + +- -

-+ +MEMORY CORE REWRITE SUCCESSFUL+ +-

"I'm sorry, X. . .this is for your own good."

- - + + BOOTING. . . + + - -

X awoke.

He was confused. Didn't he die? He sat up, perfectly whole, and rubbed the side of his helmet, head throbbing briefly.

"X?!" His comm went off, startling him, "X, is that you?!"

Why was he here? Slowly, he answered his comm. He reported his status, he got up and he found his way outside, into the sunlight, and said that he was alone. Something glitched when Alia spoke a few times and he adjusted his audials every time it happened.

He went back to Base, he was frustrated each time the audio glitched out, he was confused at the glances shot back and forth, pinching his brows when he sensed some kind of silent agreement had been made.

He fell into bed after debrief and stared at the ceiling. He reached to the side unconsciously and groped blankets. He raised himself onto his elbow and stared at the empty space next to him. His head throbbed.

He rubbed his temple with one hand and shut his eyes on the headache, flopping his head into the pillows. He heaved a deep sigh, cyberskin prickling like something was sliding over his side and folding around his back. Deep comfort washed through him at the false weight on his side. He opened his eyes and stared at the darkened space next to him and couldn't help but feel like it shouldn't be empty. He couldn't stop this uncomfortable feeling that...

He was missing something.

A little bit of angst for you

[lou-struck]

Just One More

Tooru Oikawa x Reader

Day 16: Christmas Card

25 Days of Ficmas Masterlist

~ It’s your first Christmas Card as a couple, it had to be perfect.

The morning sunlight reflects beautifully off of the surrounding snow. The icicles through the frozen waterfall behind you make the ice glow with an almost mystical energy. Despite the breathtaking view around you, Tooru’s chocolate brown eyes stare directly at you through the camera lens, trying to take the perfect shot.

It’s been an hour of smiling and posing, and you are freezing your ass off.

“Y/n,” he says happily. "You look so cute. This will be the best Christmas card ever."

Ahh yes, the Christmas card…

With this being your first Christmas living together as a couple, Tooru thought it would be a great idea for the two of you to send out Christmas cards to your friends and family.

You had nothing against the idea, and seeing the hopeful look in his eye when he asked you to take some pictures with him made you not want to say no.

But all the cuddles and kisses he gave you when you accepted made you forget one important thing. Tooru Oikawa is a perfectionist…

The two of you have taken hundreds of pictures in this same snowy landscape. Whether it’s you blinking, his sneezing, or something else entirely like an out-of-place cloud in the sky, he finds a reason to not like any of the pictures.

And this time is no exception. Tooru takes the camera off of the tripod and looks at the pictures he had just taken. As you walk over to join him,

"These look blurry," he whines, clicking through the lot of them. "They just don't do you justice y/n, I think we need to take more."

" Are you sure? I think it looks fine," you say, wrapping your arm around him and pressing your face into his warm side.

"I just want the camera to capture what I can see with my eyes," he says excitedly. His passionate attitude towards the project has you not minding the cold sensation that nips at your skin.

"Okay then," you smile, "I guess we could take a few more."

~

In the silent landscape around you, all you can hear is the occasional clicking of the shutter and Tooru's labored breathing from rushing around to take photos from different angles, his long strides making strange patterns in the snow around him.

"Okay, let's try from over here," he says, placing his gloved finger on the shutter to take a few more shots. Suddenly he stops. "Crap," he says sourly.

"What's, w-wrong?" you ask, trying to cover the shiver in your voice.

"The Battery died," he sighs, pointing to the black camera screen.

“Really?” You squeak with chattering teeth. “Does this mean we can be done?”

"No," he says, toying with the device in his hands. "I have another battery in the car I can grab if you.." he looks up at the camera and glances over at you. “Hey Cutie, are you getting cold?” he asks, placing the camera back on its tripod and trudging through the snow toward you.

"No," you lie, not wanting to make him feel bad.

He keeps closing the space between the two of you until you are chest to chest. His eyes scan you from top to bottom, inspecting you carefully. You stand still, trying to give him any reason to call your bluff. 

He puts his hand to his lip and takes the tip of his padded glove between his teeth, playfully pulling off the garment.

His now-exposed hand comes to cup your cheek, and he flinches, touching the cold surface of your skin. "You're freezing," he scolds, his eyes widening in shock.

"It's not that bad," you plead as he frantically works to untangle the fashionable winter scarf from around his neck. "Tooru, we can finish taking the pictures."

"Nope, we are going home," he says, wrapping his scarf around you carefully. Scooping you up in his arms.

"Tooru, I'm fi-" you start to object through the woolen fabric.

"Don't tell me you're fine, you're stubborn," he interrupts, looking at you sadly. "You've been cold for a while and I wasn't paying attention."

"I could've told you," you sigh, resting your head against his shoulder. "I just wanted our pictures to turn out good."

"I-I'm sorry," he says as his car comes into view. With one arm, he opens the passenger side door and plops you in the seat.

With a click of a button, the car roars to life, and he reaches over you to fiddle with the heating system, turning all the fans in your direction. "Let's get you warmed up."

"What about you?" you ask, feeling the heated seat beneath you come to life.

"I'll be fine. Let me grab the tripod and we can go," he says with a smile that's a bit too wide to be real. "I promise once we get back on the road we can stop at a coffee shop and I'll buy you the biggest hot chocolate ever."

The door shuts behind him and you see him walk off through the snow to grab the rest of the supplies.

You never intended for him to find out how cold you were, but now that he knows, you feel terrible. Especially since you know he would've stopped the moment you told him you were uncomfortable.

"Hey," he says, opening the driver's side door, "Are you warming up a bit?"

"Yes, I feel much warmer," you say, watching him place the camera on the floor behind his seat.

"That's good," he says, starting the car and pulling down the road.

You drive for a few minutes before he turns to look at you again. "Hey... I'm sorry for not asking if you were cold. I should've asked, but I was selfish."

"You were not selfish, Tooru, you were trying to do something nice for me," you say, grabbing his hand. "And you don't have to keep apologizing to me over something I could've said myself."

Pulling to a stop at the stop sign, he turns his full attention to you. "How did I ever manage to end up with someone as wonderful as you?" he sighs, leaning over the center counsel and pressing a kiss to your warming skin.

"All you had to do was ask," you giggle, turning to kiss him back. "Now, about that hot cocoa?"

[bensolosbluesaber]

Returning a Favor (Zemo x Reader fic)

TFATWS Ep. 4 Spoilers!!

Summary: When your old friend, Sam Wilson, needs your help in Riga you drop everything and go. You knew they broke Baron Helmut Zemo out of jail, but you didn't expect to bond with the villain. (AKA: I thought getting hit in the face by the Shield would at least leave a bruise. Here's how that would go down with a fourth person.)

CW: Blood, wounds, some creepy behavior (not from Zemo), a few Y/N inserts

No smut yet, just cute cuddles and taking care of each other. Maybe smut in the future though! Let me know if you want a Part 2 or added to a tag list for potential future fics! I think the reader can be any gender; I tried to write it that way and be inclusive, but please tell me if I messed up!

If you know me in real life, no you don't:) I write most of my fics on @aurora521 and write on AO3 and fanfiction.net under the same name. Please don't come for me about finding Zemo attractive.

Hope you enjoy!

---

Returning a Favor

Meet me in Riga. -S

That was the text you received from Sam Wilson, your old military friend, yesterday. And now here you are, outside the Riga airport walking toward Sam in traditional undercover superhero attire- a baseball hat and sunglasses.

“Thanks for coming,” he greeted. “We have a little problem.”

“Is his name Baron Helmut Zemo by chance?” You asked, following him to a jet black sports car.

You were very aware of just what type of trouble Sam was getting himself into since you, a SWORD agent, still had access to all kinds of classified information.

“See for yourself,” Sam muttered, gesturing to the back door of the car and climbing in the driver's seat himself.

You hesitated for a moment, then opened the door and slid into the back. And yes, Zemo was there, lounging back with legs spread. He’s wearing a long coat with fur lining, a deep purple shirt, black pants, and shiny leather shoes. He nods to you and smirks ever so slightly. Bucky Barnes, who you had only heard about but recognized immediately, turns from his spot in the front seat and smiles at you.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Y/N,” he says.

“And I you,” you respond.

Sam pulls out of the parking lot with a screech of tires. The ride is mostly silent, Sam and Bucky bickering occasionally. That made you smile, knowing that as much as Bucky annoyed Sam, this was the type of relationship he craved. Zemo watched you the entire drive, sizing you up.

The home they’re staying at is obviously the Baron's. He’s comfortable there, leaning against the counters, rifling through cabinets, lounging on the couch.

“So what am I doing here?” You finally asked.

The three men interact easily, and either Sam or Bucky is always watching Zemo. There’s no real need for a fourth person to get involved, at least not in your mind.

“Someone needs to babysit the Baron,” Sam explained with an annoyed sigh.

Zemo shrugged with a smirk so innocent it’s sinister. He’s still wearing that ridiculous coat.

“The two Avengers can’t handle him?”

“I believe your friends find it challenging to be around me,” Zemo answered for Sam.

“You shot a man in the head yesterday!” Sam snapped. “You antagonize Bucky at every turn. Forgive us for needing a break from whatever is happening in your fucked up head.”

Zemo tilts his head as if agreeing with everything Sam had just said.

“Anyway,” Bucky interrupted. “We have a lead on Karli. You can sleep off some jet lag while we’re gone, but starting tonight it’s your turn to keep track of him.”

You settled into a small bedroom. The moment your head hit the pillow, you fell asleep. At home it’s nearly ten at night; here it’s midday.

The trio is back all too soon, heralded by a slam of a door, and you force yourself to wake up to adjust to the time change as rapidly and effectively as possible. As you open the door to the living room, Bucky is stalking toward Zemo. He grabs the teacup from Zemo’s hand and hurls it against the wall.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” Bucky growled, staring at Zemo with an unnerving glint in his eyes.

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him,” Sam jumped up and grabbed Bucky’s arm. “He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.”

Bucky’s face softened slightly. Zemo stops tilting his head.

“Let me make a call,” Sam says and walks away.

“You want some cherry blossom tea?” Zemo offers Bucky with a mocking tone.

“No. You go ahead,” Bucky hissed, and after a moment of staring, he followed Sam out of the room.

You had watched Zemo for that entire exchange, noticed the slightest flinch and hint of fear when Bucky had grabbed that cup. The moment the other two men are gone and Zemo thinks he’s alone, he pours himself another cup. His hand is steady, but he draws a sharp, unsteady breath.

You move out of the room, and Zemo looks up at you from his spot on the couch. Without a word, you walk into the kitchen, taking a roll of paper towels and carefully picking up the shattered glass.

“I can do that,” Zemo says, speaking directly to you for the first time.

His voice is calm, accent thick.

“It’s alright,” you answer, then gasp sharply as a piece slices your pointer finger from tip to palm. “Fuck.”

You set the bloody piece with the pile of glass and hold a paper towel to your hand. You used the other hand to wipe tea off the wall and floor before picking up the glass piled on a paper towel and placing it in the trash, carefully tucked in other garbage.

“Let me.”

Zemo’s voice behind you makes you jump. You eye him for a moment wondering if there is some ulterior motive, some way he could hurt you or hold you hostage. Nothing comes to mind, not with Sam and Bucky so close, so you hold out your bleeding hand. He clicks his tongue at the wound.

When he takes your hand in his, his fingers are soft and warm. He moves your wound under a faucet and lets water run, rinsing the blood down the sink. He squeezes the wound a bit, and you wince as it begins to bleed more.

“We bleed to clean our wounds. It is the body’s way of protecting itself,” he says and presses a towel to your finger as he shuts off the water. “Ironic isn’t it. The very thing meant to protect us from future danger, often kills us first.”

“I’m not here to debate the ethics of superheroes with you.”

“Hold that,” he lets go of your hand and opens another cabinet. “I know how I feel about enhanced humans. There is nothing for me to debate.”

Zemo takes your hand back in his. You watch his face as he works. He uses his mouth to remove the wrapping from a butterfly bandage. The bleeding has slowed, and he uses the bandage to pull your torn skin back together. The cut isn’t terrible, certainly not the worst injury you’ve ever had, but it will scar. He adds two more strips, then places an absorbent pad over it and wraps it all in gauze.

“When we get back, I’ll change that for you.”

“I’ll hope you don’t get killed then,” you offer with a grateful smile.

He doesn’t respond but gestures to you to join on the couch. You do, keeping what you feel is a safe distance between the two of you. Zemo hands you a cup of warm tea, but as you grab it, he doesn’t let go. Your undamaged fingers brush his for a long moment and he chuckles.

“Promise not to take after your friend James? I quite like this tea set.”

Your eyebrows knit together as he smiles at his own joke and finally surrenders the cup to you. That’s the last words you two exchange, and when Bucky and Sam return ready for the next part of the mission, they find the two of you sitting in silence sharing a pot of tea.

___

When the three men returned, Sam and Bucky held an unconscious Zemo between them. You jumped off the couch, the book you had been reading discarded, and let them lay Zemo down.

“What happened?”

“John Walker,” the two men answered in the same disgusted tone.

You leaned over Zemo, finally seeing the blood and bruise on his right temple.

“This one disappeared for a few minutes, shot Karli-”

“Didn’t kill her,” Sam interrupted, sounding relieved.

Much like Sam, you sympathized with Karli’s motives if not her methods. And much like Sam, you were glad she hadn’t died.

“Then Walker knocked him out with the shield,” Bucky finished.

There was no jab at Sam this time for which you were grateful.

“Which is the only useful thing he did,” Sam added. “Zemo destroyed the rest of the serum, so right now he’s above Walker in my book.”

You looked down at Zemo, blood had dripped down his face and neck, though most of it was dried now. His eyelids twitched as he slept.

“Are you two okay?” You asked as you walked toward the bathroom.

“Fine. We ditched Walker, but we’ll need to get out of here as soon as we figure out what to do with Karli,” Sam answered, collapsing on the couch with a heavy sigh.

You dampened a washcloth in the bathroom and on your way back to the living room, grabbed the first aid kit Zemo had used on you earlier.

“What are you doing? He’ll be fine,” Bucky muttered.

He was sitting next to Sam now.

“Returning a favor,” you answered as you knelt at Zemo’s side.

You dabbed at the drying blood with the cloth, wiping it off his cheek, out of his hair. Somehow the coat came out unscathed. Sam and Bucky were talking about something behind you, but you were entirely focused on the unconscious man.

Zemo had a handsome, aristocratic face, and he walked like royalty, like he was untouchable. This was evidence he wasn’t.

You moved to the actual wound next. The cloth was soft, unreasonably so. A large hand wrapped around your wrist, squeezing tightly. You inhale sharply and shift your gaze to Zemo’s hand then his eyes. When your eyes met his, he seemed to relax, releasing you and letting his hand fall at his side.

“Apologies,” he grunted, mouth twitching with pain.

“It’s alright,” you answer calmly, very aware that the other men had stopped talking and were fixated on a potential threat. “Turn your head please.”

You put a hand on his cheek and turned him to face you to get a better look at the wound that was still seeping slowly.

“The new Captain America might force me to reconsider my stance on superheroes. I would enjoy seeing Sam and James have a go at him,” Zemo said as you prod the wound.

You wiped the cut with antiseptic, and Zemo hissed a bit at that but said nothing. Then, just like he had done to you, you placed three butterfly bandages on the cut. It wasn’t deep, just long and jagged.

“You’re my new favorite,” he joked with a little grin.

You laughed and walked to the kitchen for some ice. There were no packs, so you grabbed a bag of frozen peas, wrapped them in a towel and set it gently on Zemo’s temple.

“I can’t have you dying when I need this changed tonight,” you said, holding up a finger.

When you turned around, Sam and Bucky had both stretched out on the couch. They both wore annoyed expressions that Zemo got a whole couch and they got one to share. Bucky bumped Sam’s foot with his own, much to your amusement and Sam’s annoyance. He kicked his partner back, and you decided not to interrupt their little couples spat. Instead, you move to sit on the ground.

Zemo grabbed your wrist again, this time gently. He tucked his legs up, folding them into a V, and motioned you to share his couch. And you did, sitting in the same spot you had earlier, this time near his feet still clad in shiny black leather shoes.

“Hey, you two,” Sam called. “What’s this cozy little couch situation going on here?”

“You two could have a cozy little couch situation too if you’d just talk to each other,” Zemo shot back.

He didn’t even look at Sam, just held the frozen vegetables to his face, eyes closed.

“Y/N?” Zemo asked after a moment. “Can you get me an Advil? Or better yet, some sort of alcoholic beverage?”

“I’m not your servant, Zemo,” you sighed but stood and poured him a glass of some expensive alcohol from a bottle with Sokovian writing.

He sipped it, setting it on his chest between sips as he lounged on the couch with you. Bucky was watching you out the corner of his eye, and you were watching Zemo. Every few sips he would grimace, his lips pressing together and chest catching. Then he’d relax, exhale softly and shift the peas back into place. Eventually you picked up your book and began to read again.

Sam left the room to take a phone call a few hours later and came back shaking.

“Karli threatened Sarah, my nephews. I have to meet with her. Alone.”

“I’m coming with you,” Bucky jumped in, already on his feet. “Walker will be there, and you can’t handle the Super Soldiers and Captain Propaganda on your own.”

Zemo was either asleep or doing a good job pretending beside you. The pea bag had been returned to the freezer. He’d discarded his coat and was now wearing only his black pants and a deep purple shirt with shoulder holsters.

“You got him?” Sam pointed to the sleeping man.

“That’s what I’m here for,” you answered, setting the book aside and watching them prepare to leave.

Both men donned their costumes, Sam strapping his wings on, Bucky ripping the sleeve off of yet another jacket so his metal arm could move freely.

“Call me- us if you need backup,” you shouted after them, knowing full well they would do no such thing.

“If we aren’t back in two hours, take his ass back to jail,” Bucky called back.

Baron Zemo woke up the minute the door slammed shut, which made you doubt he’d been sleeping at all.

“And now it is only us,” he said in that thick Sokovian accent. “I will cook us something for dinner.”

He moved into the kitchen, boiling a pot of water while you watched. You perched yourself on the counter near him as he searched through cabinets. When he noticed you, he paused and chuckled before returning to the cooking. You watched in silence, keeping a close eye on him when he picked up a knife and began chopping tomatoes from a can.

He handed you a bowl of thin noodles with a thick red sauce. It smelled delicious.

“A traditional and simple Sokovian dish, a comfort food you might say,” he explained and joined you on the counter. “I made enough for Sam and James. Call me an optimist.”

Zemo didn’t talk much, you realized, as you enjoyed the food in silence. It was delicious, a bit like pasta. Suddenly, the back door clicked open. You glance around nervously, realizing just how wrong this felt.

“They shouldn’t be back yet,” you say quietly. “And they wouldn’t come in the back.”

“My old associates must have found me,” Zemo jumps off the table, and you notice the same nervousness as when Bucky threw the cup. He cannot know about James or Sam.”

You can hear a single person strolling toward the kitchen in heavy boots.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Zemo whispered, and before you could even process the words, he was standing between your legs and pressing his lips to yours.

His movements are slow and careful, trying not to be invasive as he moves his hands to your back, sliding one up to the back of your head. You wrap an arm around his waist and slide the other hand up the front of his purple shirt, splaying your fingers across his chest. His lips are soft and warm as they move against yours. His hand keeps you from pulling away, not that you’d want to.

“I heard you were back in Riga,” a new voice chuckled. “I had to see for myself.”

Zemo pulls back, feigning surprise, but kept an arm protectively around you.

“And as you have undoubtedly noticed, I am quite busy,” he replied. “Perhaps you could come back tomorrow? I’d prefer not to discuss our business in front of…”

Zemo nods to you. You were staring at the man who you recognized from work files. He was a former Shield agent. When Shield fell, he used the chaos for his own advantage, working for neither Shield nor Hydra and killing anyone who stood in his way. You suspected, but couldn’t be sure, that some of your best friends had been killed by him. Fortunately, you had enough self-control not to shoot him. His mere presence made you tense and uncomfortable.

“Of course, Baron,” he grinned and look at you in a way that made you shift closer to Zemo. “I’ll see you tomorrow, noon. The usual place.”

He gave the two of you one last look and left with a wink to Zemo. Even when the other man had gone, Zemo’s hands were still holding you against him.

“We will have to be gone before noon tomorrow,” he said looking down at you.

For some reason, you were both still wrapped around each other.

“You know who he is?” Zemo said, a statement masquerading as a question. “I am sorry.”

Your face was only inches from him, and you could smell his cologne. Zemo used the hand on your head to pull you against his shoulder. You set your head there, face turned into his neck, and inhaled deeply. And there he sat and you stood, hugging tightly for no real reason except that no one else was there.

Zemo pressed a soft kiss to your head, and rather than protest you let his lips linger. Finally, his head fell on your shoulder. After a moment, he slid you off the counter, took your hand, and led you back to the couch. Without asking, the two of you settled together on the couch, so close your sides pressed against each other. He pulled a gun out of his shoulder holster, and you froze until he set it down on the table, smirking a little.

“I don’t make a habit of shooting people I’ve just kissed,” he chuckled and raised an arm for you to lean against him.

You raised an eyebrow at him, surprised at the forwardness. You shouldn’t be, after all, he had just kissed you and held you on the counter of his kitchen. Helmut Zemo made no sense to you, but in the end, you curled against him. He shifted to lay on his back, head propped on the pillows he was laying on earlier while you tucked yourself beside him, head on his chest.

Zemo wrapped an arm around you. You put a hand on his chest, fingering the purple shirt. He was warm and soft, and you had to remind yourself that you could not fall asleep while you are supposed to be watching him.

“Why are we doing this?” You whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why are you?” Zemo turns his head toward you.

“I haven’t had someone to do this with in a long time,” you answer slowly, cautiously, knowing full well this was a man who could turn on you on an instant or hold onto information until the moment it was advantageous to him.

“Neither have I,” He replied. “German prisons don’t allow much physical contact. Besides, I hope that with enough time perhaps I may kiss you again.”

You tilted your head up to see a grin tugging at the side of his lips, lips that had been on yours a few minutes ago.

“Maybe with enough time,” you answer and brush a lose strand of hair out of his eyes, letting your hand trail over the bruise on his face.

He caged your hand in his, bringing your joined hands back to his chest and holding them there. You felt the rise and fall of his breaths and it soothed you. When they grew deep and steady and the tension seemed to fall from his body, you realized he was truly asleep, not faking like earlier. Soon and against your better judgment, you were dozing off in his arms tossing a leg over his so your limbs tangled together.

Your last thought before you fell asleep was how warm and comfortable you felt with Helmut Zemo, and how completely ludicrous such a thought was.

It wasn’t long before the door opening woke you, still secure in Zemo’s arms. You tried to move, sit up so Sam and Bucky wouldn’t see this little arrangement. You failed. Bucky came in first, stopping in his tracks as he saw the scene on the couch.

“What are you doing? Keep walk- what?” Sam ran right into Bucky’s back then froze.

Their eyes were wide as they stared. Zemo shifted awake beneath you, and you could imagine the smirk on his face. Bucky’s metal fist clenched, and Sam, ever the peacemaker grabbed his arm and opted for a more amicable approach.

“One of you better start talking.”

[detroitbecomeyandere]

Hey There Little Red Riding Hood.

Werewolf Gavin x Little Red Reader.

You wrap the fresh bread in soft cloth and place it gently in your basket along with a bottle of mead, herbs and vegetables from your garden and some dried and fresh meat. The weather was starting to turn chilly and as the only other member of your family it was your responsibility to look after your aging grandmother in times like these, she was still the same fiery woman who has raised you after your parents died. But just because she thinks she's a woman in her fifties doesn't mean her body agrees, the seventy year old had pain in her joints and hands whenever the weather turned cold and could hardly cook for herself. Glancing out your window you see the sun was starting to set but there should be more than enough time to get to grandmother's before dark. Slinging your red cloak around your shoulders and locking your home you set off into the woods.

You know this path so well you could walk it blindfolded, the scenery is so familiar it almost felt more like home than your actual house. The leaves have begun their change and the whole forest just feels warmer despite the nip in the air, perhaps you'd stay with grandmother this winter to enjoy the snow covered woods. You pull your hood to keep the cold from making your ears chapped and start to hum to yourself completely unaware of the hungry eyes following you.

Gavin follows you closely never losing sight of you, everything about you is devine and he had thought so from the moment he saw you. He was a recluse and lives deep in the woods by himself never wanting contact with the village closest to him but every now and again he needed to trade pelts for other goods to keep him going. That's when he saw you, your big soft eyes that reminded him of a doe, your soft laughter when your friend made a joke, your scent almost made his heart leap from his chest. He knew then that you were his but he didn't approach you to worried he'd lose control so close to the full moon and harm you, he'd go to you when the time was right and until then he'd have to be content.

That was three years ago now, he always told himself that tomorrow would be the day, tomorrow would come and he'd find himself on the outskirts of the village watching you from the trees unable to approach you. So here he was again, following you to your grandmother's. Tonight was harder than ever before with the full moon tomorrow, every instinct in him screaming to throw you down and claim you as his. Gavin was about to give up the walk with you and head back home to deal with his urges there when a sudden wind blew by and he caught you on the wind, you were fertile right now. And like that every rational thought flew from his mind as his inner beast started to take over, the last bit of his humanity hanging on wouldn't let him take you on the forest floor, your first time needed to be special. So he gave your unsuspecting figure a final glance before dashing head.

Unaware of the danger you walk to the door of the home and knock, the walk had taken longer than expected due to some trees down in the path and it was dark by now. You'd have to ask some men in the village if they could clear it for you when you get back. Knocking again you hear a soft "come in" come from the back of the house, stepping inside you notice that the fire was nearly out so after latching the door you set you basket down and work to build the fire.

"Sorry I'm late grandmother, some trees were down and it was kind of a hassle climbing over them." You hear a small hum in acknowledgement and continue, "I'm going to see if Luther can clear it when I get back, I'll ask if he can bring some to you too. Grandmother have you eaten yet? I can make you something to eat, I've brought bread and meat."

In your rambling you don't notice the figure approaching you and your hood blinds your peripheral, a large hand lands on your shoulder and you are pulled from the hearth and spun around.

Gavin hears your heart speed up as you come to the realization that this was not your grandmother, you start to scream and push his arm away but he wraps his other arm around your waist pulling you into him and forces his tongue down your throat. With strength that impresses you the stranger lifts you with the one arm and sits you down on the nearby table. When you start to run out of air he pulls away and sweeps everything off the table and onto the floor. In the warm light of the fire you see the man and vaguely recognize him, he takes advantage of your shock and forces another kiss on you this one a little more tender than before. The man forces your back onto the wood beneath you and starts to bunch your skirts up to your knees and just like that your fight is reignited and you pound against his chest.

When he pulls away a string of saliva connects the two of you, one of his hands catches your's when you try to scratch his face. His other hand holds your face as his thumb sweeps across your bottom lip and mumbles to himself "What soft lips you have, the better to kiss."

"Stop please.. where is my grandmother. You didn't hurt her did you!"

He buries his nose into your neck and inhales "How kind you are, here you are pinned underneath a beast and all you can think about is your sweet old granny." His teeth graze your skin as he grinds his manhood onto your clothed cunt, "Don't worry sweet one, she's safe." He pulls away from your neck and pins your hips down to the table, taking your skirt between his teeth he pulls it to your waist and glances up at you. "I really wanted to wait, but you are just so tempting. You should really stay out of the woods so close to a full moon sweetling. But I know you'll forgive me for being selfish just this once."

And with that he disappears between your legs and presses his tongue flat against your slit groaning as your taste fills his senses. You tasted sweeter than any berries in this forest. You grasp his hair and try to yank him off you but he ignores your pulling and instead wraps his lips around your clit and starts to swirl his tongue around it. Your spine arches as a jolt of pleasure shocks you, you've never felt anything like this and your body welcomed it relaxing into his grip. Gavin hears your heart go steady and he knows he has you, he prods your entrance with the tip of his tongue before pushing it into you. He growls into you when he feels your walls clamp down onto him and he goes feral on you, sloppy eating you out while his thumb makes tight circles on your clit. Switching again he sucks on your bud and replaces his tongue with two of his fingers, he scissors them inside you trying to prepare you his knot.

You pull him closer to you as the pleasure starts to build to an almost unbearable tightness in your stomach. Every gasp and moan pushes Gavin into a more animalistic state. Just as the knot is about to snap he pulls away from you, you don't get the time to mourn the loss before he is pushing his swollen cock into you. The small amount of prep before did nothing to ease the burn as his cock pushed into you, your eyes water and hiss in pain when he gives you no time to adjust to him. Gavin shuts his eyes as he finally fucks you, none of his fantasies came even close to the way you feel around him.

A whimper brings him back to reality and he opens his now yellow eyes and sees tears streaming down your cheeks and your brow drawn together in pain. He stops his thrusting to cup your face in his callused hand and forces you to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry sweetling, I can't help myself. You're just everything a big bad wolf could want." He presses soft kisses to your lips and gives you a moment to calm down. Once he feels you relax around him he looks back at you, "What big eyes you have, the kind that drive me mad. Keep them on mine." His thumb swipes another tear away as he pulls out until only his tip is inside you, Gavin rolls his hips and sheathes himself fully again. His eyes stay locked onto your own as he repeats the motion several time slowly working you open and once you roll your hips back into his he picks up the pace, letting the animal inside him take over again.

The man above you terrified and excited you at the same time, your mind knew this wasn't something you wanted and yet your body succumbed so quickly, you didn't know which was the right feeling to have and all you did know was that you wanted more of him in the moment. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you, the trapper growled again as the angle let him in deeper and through his parted lips you saw his teeth were becoming pointed before your eyes. The surge of fear only heightens your pleasure as you feel the knot start to build again rapidly.

Gavin smells you fear and it pushes him more into animal than human as he starts to pound into you, trying to force his knot into you before it swells completely. The only thing running through his mind is "breed", the werewolf in him completely taking over as his nails grew into claws and his fangs fully formed.

At the feeling of something bumping against your opening you raise your head a little and see a knot on his cock, transfixed you watch as it grows and as it starts to work it's way inside you. The added stretch burns a little but it's soon forgotten when you see it fully disappear inside you and suddenly you feel so full that you are pushed off the edge and your vision goes white. You grasp his forearms to try and ground yourself as you cum and your eyes flutter closed as you let the sensation wash over you.

He growls as you cum around him, your walls squeeze in a vice like grip. His claws dig into the cape beneath you and he rips holes into it when he feels his knot catch on your walls locking the two of you together. He continues to rut into you trying to forced himself as deep inside as possible, once his cock head kisses your womb he cums. Gavin shoots thick ropes of cum directly into your womb and he howls as he finally becomes one with you. After painting your insides white Gavin looks back to you, your eyes are glazed as you look up at him, your skin flushed and covered in sweat. Leaning down he captures your lips again, this time you return the kiss and drop your legs from his hips as your body goes limp. Soon enough all the pleasure leaves you and your mind starts to clear and the fear from before returns.

You try to pull away from the kiss but Gavin follows your lips so you try to wiggle your hips out from under him hoping to pull yourself off of him and get out from under the man. But when you do you feel him locked inside you and he growls into your lips before pulling away slightly with a dark chuckle, "I know you must be eager for more sweetling, but you need to stay still. I can't guarantee that I won't try to fuck my knot deeper into you, let's just enjoy the moment." He wraps your legs back around his waist and lifts you off the table, the both of you groan at the position change and you have to bite back another moan as he starts walking to the back of the cottage. He lays the two of you onto the bed and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, humming back to you the song you sang on your way here.

[wreckmetoji]

idfc

An ongoing fic in which you don't realize you have both Fushiguros at your feet.

↳ Toji Fushiguro/Reader Part 3/?

Part 1, Part 2 , Part 4

content warning. age gap, shameless smut, afab reader, mild degradation, spit kink, size kink, choking, unprotected sex, overstimulation, profanity This is part three of a several part story revolving around smut. **Minors DNI**

1.6k words

You came to a quick conclusion that had he not prepared you how he did, there was no fucking way his dick would fit. "Doll, we're just getting started." The circles Toji traced on your hip with his fingertips did little to calm your nerves. That wasn't his intention anyways. "Like what you see?" Toji smirked, free hand going to the base of his length and giving it a slow shake. You had to will yourself to look back up to his eyes instead of following the sway of his cock. You didn't trust yourself to speak so you nodded instead. “You're... um..." The words died in your throat as he leaned down, towering above you. He moved his hips between your legs, trapping you between his strong arm and the back of your couch. "Big?" "Fucking huge," You breathed, his sardonic grin only growing at the shake behind your voice. "Careful sweetheart, you're stroking my ego. That's a dangerous game." Toji stroked the head of his cock against your slick, rubbing against your clit before stroking the rest of him down the crevice of your pussy, then coming back up to tease your clit again. Soft mewls left your lips, rocking your hips up into him and urging him to hurry the fuck up. Movements halted, and you immediately noticed the missing presence of his girth. You lifted your head to look down between the two of you, ready to ask him what was taking him so long, until you felt the head of his cock part you. He shifted his hips, pushing forwards. You arched your back, the wind knocked out of your body completely. He was gonna split you in two, holy shit. "Fuck, relax princess," Toji sucked a breath through his teeth, pushing two more inches into your heat. "You're so tight." Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his slim waist, knees squeezing him slightly more with every agonizing push. In no way were you a virgin, but you had absolutely nothing to compare to his size. His other arm came up beside your head, effectively caging you between them, using one hand to grip your hair and tugging it to make you look at him. The sting had your eyes watering, your cunt squeezing him ever so slightly. His eyes pierced through you, holding your gaze until he was completely bottomed out inside of you. You looked completely fucked out and he'd barely even done anything yet. Your hips rocked, pushing up into Toji as much as you could. The corner of his lips tugged into a smirk, your eyes carefully watched his tongue slide over his scar. "Look at you, like a bitch in heat." He pulled out to the tip, fucking back into you with brute force. If you couldn't breathe before, it was impossible now. He repeated, setting a steady hard pace, watching your face contort in overwhelming pleasure. "You're such a slut, you think I don't notice the way you look at me every time you come over?" Toji gave an especially bruising thrust, making your jaw fall slack. You were barely able to make noise with how hard he was pounding into you, only little moans and squeaks every time his hips made contact with yours. "You've been wanting me to fuck you stupid for years, huh?" You sputtered an unintelligible answer, eyes rolling into the back of your head when he gave your hair a hard tug before letting go. His hand moved down to your lips, thumb forcing into your mouth with ease, pressing your tongue down with the pad of his finger. "Be a good girl," Toji muttered darkly, leaning down and sticking his tongue out above you. Your eyes came back into focus just as the string of spit fell from his tongue onto your own, an airy moan leaving you as the warm liquid dripped down your throat. He was quick to kiss you, tongue intruding your mouth to give you more and swallow your desperate sounds. When he parted, the string connecting connecting two of you snapped and dribbled down your chin, onto your chest. Toji groaned at the sight, sitting back on his thighs and gripping your hips with force. He pulled you into him, using your much smaller stature to his advantage, fucking himself with you brutally. Your screams and moans had drowned out his voice, but hearing him laugh made you gaze at him stupidly. He wasn't looking at your face, but down where the two of you were connected. When you shifted your gaze to see what he was laughing at, your eyes widened at the bulge pushing against your lower abdomen with every thrust. "Look at that... I could fucking break you, couldn't I?" Toji moved his hips up, pressing against you further. The words left your mouth in a garbled mess, but he understood them nonetheless. "Please break me, Toji... please." You were too absorbed in your own pleasure to see his expression shift, so the shock that came to you when he suddenly pulled out and flipped you with force made you shout. He entered you again without warning, mercilessly pounding into your aching cunt. One hand grabbed your forearm, pulling you to arch your back at an impossible angle. "Careful what you wish for, princess." Toji growled. His free hand came to wrap around the front of your throat, thumb and forefinger pressing on your pulse points just under your jaw, making your vision blur. It was too much, you could feel another orgasm quickly rising, trying desperately to voice the fact. His grip tightened on your throat, your head was floating. "Gonna cum for me again? You dirty slut." He grunted, leaning over you and pressing his chest to your back. You nodded as best you could with his hand holding your head still. The lack of oxygen was getting to your head, your eyes went glassy and your body began to slack against him. Your climax hit you like a truck, your entire body quaking and collapsing in his strong grip. You had completely blacked out, eyes rolling so far back in your head the strain gave you a headache. The last thing you remember is his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you up, and feeling warm ropes of cum filling up your overstimulated cunt. When you came to, Toji was wiping between your thighs with a dampened hand towel as you straddled his lap. He'd already pulled his pants back up, only remaining shirtless. You felt exposed in front of him, groaning at both the ache of your entire body and displeasure of your exposed state. "There she is," He announced, voice softer than you think you'd ever heard him speak before. You blinked, trying to lean back, body still too weak to do anything on your own. "Careful, princess. I got you." The room spun as he stood, carrying you with ease into your bathroom. You flinched at the cold granite counter making contact with your bare ass, making Toji chuckle. Once you relaxed, your back leaned against the mirror. “Scared the shit outta me, little girl." He turned the shower on, back facing you as he adjusted the nozzles and worked on removing his pants. "Don't think I've ever had someone pass out while I'm dickin' them down before." Oh how badly you wish you just died, right there and then. You could feel the heat radiating off your face, your ears going red. It was worse that he found it amusing. "Guess it was just that good," You muttered back, voice scratchy from overuse. "I guess one could say you fucked the life out of me." When Toji turned around, he had a lopsided smile that matched your own. "Yeah, guess you could." Toji was never a sweet or gentle man, that much was obvious. The scars that littered his body were from some dangerous job he always refused to specify, every time you had asked about the visible ones on his arms and face he would just say 'doesn't matter, I'm retired now'. So it came as a surprise when he got you on your feet and came into the shower with you, your back against his chest. This felt much different than the sex, it seemed much more intimate. There was a looming sense of closeness. It was short lived, however, once you started using your body wash his sneaky appendages traced up your sides and began cupping and kneading your chest. A soft sigh came from your lips, leaning your head back against his chest as he fondled you. You could already feel his half-hard cock pressing against your back, your own sex throbbing in time with his. A particular tweak of your nipple elicited a meek moan, your eyes fluttering closed. One of your small hands held his thick forearm, the other reached back and pressed against his upper thigh, just below his pelvic line. That was enough for him to hum, low baritone bouncing off the bathroom walls and shooting directly to the heat once again pooling between your legs. "Round two already?" You smirked through your words, having to tilt your head back all the way to look up at his roguishly handsome features. One of his hands moved down, brushing your swollen abused clit. Toji dipped his head, nudging your hair from your neck with his nose so he could kiss, lick, and nip the spot he'd been pressing with his thumb earlier. He peered up at you through the jet black strands of his bangs, raising a brow and grinning wickedly. "What can I say, I live to please. Besides..." "You ain't seen nothin' yet."

[masterwords]

teamwork

I'm in the process of writing a lot of really sad/bad/awful things right now so I needed a little brain scrub. @jaspxr floated me the idea to do a little coda to 06x22 - Out of the Light because reasons. Hotch and Morgan can't wait to get to the warm shower after their time in the water...that's it, that's all this is.

This is short. It's not explicit but it is definitely PWP, just the sfw-ish version. (700ish words)

**

Wet. Shivering. The SUV bumped along the road so loud it rang in his ears and hurt his teeth. “Derek, slow down,” Hotch muttered, clasping his hands between his thighs to warm them. The SUV hit the potholes so fast, so hard he felt it up and down his spine and fumbling, Hotch reached for the door handle to hold onto.

“Hold tight,” Derek replied without giving Hotch's request even a moment of thought. The road was long and bumpy and there was no way he was going to slow down. He was freezing his balls off and all he wanted was to throw this damn vehicle in park and drag Hotch directly to the shower.

They both needed a warmup. “You were amazing...” Hotch said through chattering teeth while Derek fumbled with the hotel room key. Hotch kept lookout, didn't want anyone to see them standing so close together, walking into the room together. “You saved that girl.”

“No,” Derek corrected, pushing into the frigid air-conditioned room. It sucked the air from his lungs, and he dashed for the machine and began punching at the numbers until the air changed, blew hot instead of cold. Seemed absurd to turn on the heat in this weather, but he was pretty sure they might die if he didn't. He stood above it and rubbed his hands together anxiously. “We did. You don't shoot that guy, she dies. I couldn't have done it without you.”

Hotch's lips ticked up at the corners in a half-smile, approaching the heater himself. “Teamwork makes the dream work.”

“Oh for fuck sake, why you gotta ruin a good moment with your dork shit?” Derek hooked his thumb in Hotch's beltloop and made a goofy face. “TeAmWoRk MaKeS tHe DrEaM wOrK,” he mocked, and Hotch rolled his eyes, a flush rising like wildfire from his collarbone up his neck.

“Shower?”

“Shower.”

The water pressure sucked, but it got scalding and that was really all they'd been hoping for. Cold skin flush with goosebumps waiting for the warmth to spread, hands slipping over curves and planes. Derek's shirt was easy to get off, just a tug over his head and it landed with a slap against the counter. Hotch's tie, his buttons, those were time consuming, but Derek had plenty to spare...that shower took its sweet time heating up. He could hear it rattling and groaning through the ancient pipes and knew they were going to give it a workout today. Hotch's skin was flush with goosebumps, bright red in places, and Derek all but shoved him beneath the spray of the water before undoing his belt and pants. At least they'd gotten out of their shoes and socks on the way in.

And then it was only bodies, slick and warming slowly. Lips pressed desperately against one another, heated and fast. Deeper and deeper, until Hotch found himself a little dizzy and smiling, he trailed his kisses from Derek's lower lip down to his chin, under his jaw, down his neck. Blazing a trail that burned hotter than anything the shower could provide.

If Derek hadn't stopped him, cupped his chin in one hand and pulled him back to his waiting mouth, he would have been on his knees. Of that, Derek was certain. There was something a little unhinged in his eyes. The moment was intoxicating and the warmth...he never wanted to leave. But Derek had better plans. “We're too fucking old to do this in the shower,” he said breathless between kisses. “And Reid's room is right...there...” he pressed his finger to the wall and grinned. “Let's finish warming up and take this party to the bed where it belongs. I've had enough excitement for one day...”

Hotch grinned, and Derek didn't trust that look for one minute. He'd really stepped in it now. "Is that a challenge?" Hotch asked, quirking an eyebrow. He'd push and push, see exactly how much more excitement Derek was willing to put up with...he had a feeling it was actually a lot. If Hotch could shoot a man point blank underwater without flinching, he could certainly bring Derek to his knees without even breaking a sweat.

[double-hoe-seven]

A Different Kind of Mission

Kinktober Day 10 Kinktober Prompt: Breeding Summary: Rick came home from a mission with new, different mission on his mind. Pairing: Rick Flag x Reader Word Count: 1,245 Warnings: SMUT, Breeding Kink, slight daddy kink, 

Fandom: DCEU/The Suicide Squad (2021) Rating: SMUT, 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

The span of time between the sound of the front door closing and the feeling of arms around your waist, pulling you back into a hard chest was too short to process. His face was buried in your neck, pressing all kinds of kisses to the exposed skin. "Hello to you too, baby," you said with a giggle as his rough beard tickled the skin of your shoulder. Rick turned you around and pulled you into a needy, desperate kiss, his arm around your waist holding you as close to him as possible while his hand cupped your cheek, holding your face securely. Your arms quickly found their way around his neck, holding him just as securely and leaning into the impassioned kiss. Your fingers tangled in his messy brown hair, trying to anchor him to you. He mumbled something you didn't quite catch without separating his lips from yours. "Hm?" You hummed in response, only slightly pulling away. "I said I don't wanna wait anymore, darling. There was an incident on the mission, I almost died. I don't wanna go another day without us having a family anymore because there might not always be time," he said breathlessly as he cupped your cheeks, looking deep into your eyes with a gleam of desperation you'd never seen in him before.

"Are you sure, Rick?" You asked softly. He nodded quickly, a small smile that could almost be described as sheepish appearing on his face "I'm damn positive, baby. I want to have a family with you before I can't," He searched your face for any sign of disagreement but instead found you pulling him back into another needy kiss. When you reluctantly pulled away, you were already dragging him to the bedroom, a trail of clothes being left in the wake. The minute the last article of clothing was on the floor, Rick was pulling you into bed and trailing hasty kisses down your body. Hiking your legs over his shoulders, he chanced one look up at you before diving into you like a man starved. The first swipe of his tongue was slow but quickly got faster, needier. His nose nudged your clit gently as his tongue circled your entrance teasingly slowly, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your inner thigh as his hand moved closer to where you wanted him. A gentle, almost silent moan fell from your lips when his finger slowly pressed into you. He added another fairly quickly and curled them slowly in a 'come hither' motion, all the while lips locked around your clit, alternating between roughly sucking the little bud and flicking it with his tongue just to make you jolt some.

His ministrations, combined with the scratch and burn of his beard had you quickly approaching your orgasm but when he felt your walls quiver and clench around him, your husband pulled his fingers out and licked them clean, staring directly into your eyes as he did while you emitted a desperate whine. "Sorry, darlin' but the only way you're cumming is on my cock," he said with what could only be described as an eager smile on his face as he lined his member at your entrance. He slowly pushed into you, making sure you felt every inch of him entering your deepest, most intimate places. A shuddered breath escaped him when his pelvic bone met yours, his entire length enveloped by the warm, familiar walls of your cunt.

"I missed you so much," he said in a soft, almost desperate tone while planting a kiss on your forehead. "I missed you too baby," you answered back quietly with a sweet smile. "Now stop holding back and get me pregnant already," you challenged with a smirk. The loving gleam in his eyes was immediately replaced with lust-blown pupils, a wicked grin crossing his face "if that's what the lady wants, who am I to object?" He lazily pulled his hips back and waited for you to start to object before snapping his hips forward, a loud, surprised moan filling the room.

"That what you wanted, darlin'? Want me to use you until I cum so your greedy little cunt can't take my seed?" He whispered in your ear without losing any momentum in his hips. You nodded quickly and rocked your hips with his, moaning incoherent curses of his name. "You want me to breed this tight cunt of yours, kitten? Hm? Want me to just cum in your pretty little pussy every day until you're belly's round with my kid?" He continued, pressing a gentle kiss just under your earlobe; the gentle, loving gesture provided an interesting contrast to the utter filth that left his lips as his hips repeatedly snapped into yours. "F-fuck-yes, Rick!" you managed to say in little more than a croak. "Say it, kitten. Tell me you want me to breed you, that you're only good for being bred by me," he ordered in his colonel voice, making sure each word oozed authority and command. A sharp smack landed to your thigh landed when you didn't get a word out, a surprised yelp following the laugh crack of his open palm on your soft skin. "Say it, kitten. Say it and daddy's gonna give you what you want," he ordered again, grabbing your chin and making you look into his eyes.

It was hard to get any coherent word out when you felt the spring in your belly quickly tightening, and tightening. Another smack landed, this one on the globe of your ass and he warned "don't you dare cum before you've followed my orders." A desperate whine left you and you spoke quickly "I want you to breed me!" "Very good, kitten, and the rest?" He taunted while his thumb fell to your clit, rubbing slow teasing circles over the desperate and hyper-sensitive bundle. "I'm only good for being bred by you, colonel, please! Please colonel, daddy, please let me cum before you fill my needy little cunt with your seed. Let me cum so you can breed me!" You begged, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as your muscles tightened, doing everything possible to fight off the impending orgasm.

"Fuck, princess, that's such a good girl, now cum on daddy's cock. Now." He said breathlessly, his hips sputtering before he stilled inside of you. You weren't sure what you moaned out as the first wave of your orgasm crashed over you, drowning you in white-hot pleasure while he got lost in his own climax. You barely registered the feeling of his warmth filling your insides, jet after jet of his cum shooting deep into your core, straight into your womb. He panted heavily, eyes half-lidded as he sat back on his shins, still holding your hips flush against his so nothing spilled out. You hadn't even realized your eyes were screwed shut until you had to open them and were greeted with the sight of him staring lovingly at your stomach like he was imagining the life that would grow there.

As much as you hated to kill the mood, you let out a quiet laugh "honey, you know I have an implant right?" He groaned dramatically and rolled his eyes "how soon can you get it removed?" "Hand me my phone, I'll call my doctor and make an appointment." He beamed a bright grin and nodded "until it's gone, you and I can keep practicin', okay, kitten?" "I expect nothing less," you agreed.

Tag Team: @bdffkierenwalker​

[gotnofucks]

Lover’s Quarrel

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Summary: You have the powers to resurrect if you’ve been murdered, and a jealous Steve Rogers indulges heavily in your abilities. He would not let you steal his best friend, that was for sure. So what, if your rivalry regularly caused fire and harm to public property? You just couldn’t let the other win. 

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Smut, enemies to lovers, violence, killings and murders (but reader cannot die, it’s weird. She has some sorta powers that help her revive when she’s been murdered), language, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Is this crack fic? Idk. Maybe?

The sixth time Steve killed you, you decided he needed to be dealt with in a similar way. It doesn’t matter that he cannot come back from the dead like you. He just needed to go. You were tired of him offing you every time he felt threatened by your existence. But this was the last straw. He had pushed you off the Quinjet while flying home from a mission and you’d fallen into the lake and drowned. You would NOT recommend dying that way.

Bucky had dragged out your dead body and watched over you as the blessing of the necromancer worked its magic over you and brought you back to the world of the living. The first words out of your mouth as you spewed out water were, “I am going to kill your best friend and you can’t be mad at me for that.”

Bucky, far too happy to have you back – poor guy still mourned every time you died – ignored your comment and pulled you into a hug. He’d never quiet gotten used to seeing you die. You patted his back, muttering a few there-there’s until he was calm enough to press quivering kisses on your head and temple.

“You need to stop dying.” He said into your hair, holding you close.

“I would not be dying if your best friend didn’t murder me every time! He is a menace, Buck!” You cried in exasperation. The said best friend was watching you from a few yards away, and he rolled his eyes as your words reached him. He scoffed loud enough for you to hear and you sharply turned your head to glare at him.

“You!” You shouted, quickly standing up and marching over to him. “You rascal!” And then you pried out your wet shoe from your feet and threw it at his stunned face. Unfortunately, it didn’t hit his face but smacked against his chest, leaving the wet print of your soles against his far too tight t-shirt. He gaped at you open mouthed before baring his teeth in warning.

“Oh god, every time you come alive again, you’re even more awful than before!” Steve shouted, and then just because he is fucking drama queen, he threw out his hands. You sneered before turning to look at Bucky meaningfully, the most obvious ‘see what a dick he is’ look on your face.

Bucky shuffled uneasily, caught between your quarrel once again. He came behind you and gave you his jacket to wear to shield you from the cold. And just like that, your anger melted a little. Somehow, with his steel blue eyes, Bucky Barnes could sooth every wound you’d ever had. Even those given to you by Steve Rogers.

“I am so sorry. I should have seen what he was about to do. I wouldn’t have ever let you fall had I known.” He apologized and you swore your heart physically quivered. You pulled Bucky into a hug, hiding your face in his chest, savoring his arms coming around you to hold you tighter. You could have stayed in his embrace forever, but it was an annoyed groan that ripped you both apart.

“Is there any way you can stay dead a little longer?” Steve asked, breaking your moment. “I mean, I’ve tired a bullet and knife and water and poison. What can I do that you’d be gone for just a little longer?”

He was worked up, a red flush creeping on his face and neck. Pacing, he was muttering, and you wondered for the millionth time how Bucky could be friends with him. He was just so extra! You wanted to tell him to shove a stick up his ass, along with the one already there when he turned swiftly like the wind and threw a dagger at you. A metal hand caught it before it could hit you and you were pulled into the warmth of Bucky’s body quickly.

“Steve! Cut it out.” Bucky yelled, glaring at Steve. “You will not kill her again. I don’t care if she can come back alive again. You won’t hurt her.”

With that, he dropped the dagger on the ground and walked away with you. Unable to resist, you looked over you shoulder and flipped Steve off. Fucker could kill you a hundred times and yet he would not be able to do anything. As far as you were concerned, Bucky was as much your best friend as his. And if Steve Rogers couldn’t control his jealousy without trying to behead you every time he felt you were stealing Bucky from him, you would just have to make his death look like an accident.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that you can’t kill him either?” Bucky said teasingly, his eyes soft and fond. “I need you both to survive.”

You groaned, bumping your shoulder in his and snuggling into him as a cold breeze hit your wet clothes. He could read you like an open book.

“You are no fun Barnes.”

There was rubble and fires and shrieks. Natasha was yelling in Russian as she ran about with a fire extinguisher and Clint crawled out of his vents to help Bruce out who was turning a dangerous shade of green. Tony was sitting in the ruins of his kitchen, his mouth half open as he spied on the ensuing battle in the middle of it.

Sam was using his shield to push Steve away who was shouting curses that had probably not been invented yet. Bucky was holding you back by your middle, yelling in your ear to calm the fuck down but all you could think of to do was smacking Steve’s face with that chair that was currently on fire. You suppose once everyone was calm, you’d feel guilty about your part in destroying the Avengers kitchen but right now that wasn’t important.

What was important was that Steve had tried to kill you. Again. He had actually thrown a fucking grenade at you. You barely had the time to kick it away where it exploded in the kitchen and then Steve was on you, calling you a bitch in all the 9 languages he knew.

“Calm the hell down, Steve!” Sam yelled, struggling to keep Steve at bay from you. You were glad to see that Steve’s nose was busted. That will teach the bastard to ‘look down his nose’ on you now.

“She pierced my ears! The fucking bitch pierced my goddamn ears!” Steve yelled. Even you had to admit, the golden hoops looked amazing dangling from his ears. Just perfect.

“You are lucky I didn’t stick a knitting needle in your eye Rogers!” You sassily replied, “The only reason you’re still in one piece is because I promised my best friend that I wouldn’t hurt you.”

The muscles in Steve’s arms tensed and Sam groaned, barely keeping his own footing. A dark shadow seemed to have crawled over Steve’s face, turning the blues of his eyes an angry shade and had you been a weaker person, you would have trembled. This was the face of someone who had stood against armies alone and came out victorious. But for all you cared, he could kiss your ass.

“He is MY best friend. Mine. Not yours, not anyone else’s. Bucky Barnes is mine and I will kill you a thousand times until it sinks in your thick skull!” Steve growled. You scowled, a scathy remark bubbling on the tip of your tongue when you suddenly stopped. Why say when you can show? So, looking Steve directly in the eyes, you went limp in Bucky’s arms, turned around and cupped his face. And then you kissed his cheek.

Steve let out a strangled cry behind you, but you focused on Bucky who was blinking in disbelief at your audacity. And so, just for the heck of it, you kissed his other cheek. And then his forehead.

“Bucky Barnes, you are my best friend and always will be!” You said, hugging the life out of him. You heard Steve break away from Sam, heard Bucky yell out a curse and holding you protectively as his jealous pal came rushing to claim him. And all through that and the chaos that ensued later, you just smiled broadly.

Tony was giving a lecture, and he sucked. He gesticulated too much for your liking, and you really didn’t like how he kept emphasizing things by looking pointedly at you. It wasn’t even that much of a big deal, and even if it was, it was not your fault. Like every other time, the only person who could be held responsible was the blond super soldier sitting beside you, wearing the same shade of annoyance on his face as yours.

“I repeat” said Tony, his hair askew, “we do not use Friday to settle idiotic, absolutely ridiculous personal vendettas!”

“You have Friday tell you how pretty you look every day!” You countered and Tony slammed his hand on the table.

“Because I am!” He huffed. “You, on the other hand, stopped a mission in the middle to ask Friday who had a higher score! I mean, what the actual fuck? And what score?”

Steve had the decency to look at least a little sheepish. You however didn’t put up with any of that nonsense. It was his idea anyway, and you wouldn’t take the fall for him. Not when Tony looked murderous like this.

“Rogers bet me he’d take down more enemies than me. We only asked Friday to keep a count. I had literally nothing to do with it.”

Tony turned the ire of his glare at Steve who was too busy giving you a dirty look. He was just pissed you won, and that Bucky had spent the entire ride back tending to your wounds rather than Steve’s. It wasn’t your fault his jealous ass always threw a fit whenever he saw you and Bucky together.

“You said the team could use Friday as we saw fit.” Steve said, though he did look a little guilty. It wasn’t like him to lose command and control. Even when he’d been Captain America, he had never let anything rattle him. Not until you had come prancing in his life and stealing his best friend.

“I said the team could use Friday, not stop everything in the middle of a high risk mission to see who has a bigger dick.” Tony said, and then he just collapsed in his chair. Poor guy had been working too hard to carry the team forward, and in that moment, even you felt guilty. Your rivalry with Steve shouldn’t have to affect everyone else, not when they had been so welcoming and loving to you ever since you joined.

You walked over to Tony and dropped a kiss on his head, caressing his hair. “I am sorry Tones. You won’t have more trouble from me.”

Tony looked at you as if seeing an angel. He looked at you as if you were the solution to all his troubles. Despite every furniture of his you’d broken and set fire to, he was so grateful to have one sane voice between them. Cupping your hands, he looked imploringly at you and asked, “Really? You’re gonna stop fighting with Steve?”

At that, you solemnly nodded and patted his hand gently. Poor him and the poor team going through hell because you and Steve couldn’t settle your differences. It was obvious what had to be done.

“Of course I will” You said magnanimously, because of course you were the better of the two. “Steve just needs to find another best friend and there won’t be any reason to fight anymore.”

If any of them had been drinking water, they would have spit it out. Since they didn’t, they just kind of choked on their saliva and sputtered at you in absolute disbelief. Tony actually looked betrayed and Steve seemed to have licked a lemon, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

“She” He said, voice thick with contempt, “needs to go away. We can launch her in outer space or somewhere from where she can never return. You know why? Because Bucky is my best friend. Since we were yay high!” And he raised his arms a foot off the ground to show just how high.

And just like that, the moment was gone. Rogers opened his mouth and any goodwill you had had went poof. So, you did the only reasonable thing any sane person would do right now and that was to flip him off and call him a pig. You knew he was inching to strangle you; you could see his fingers twitch. A part of you was anticipating it, for Bucky would never forgive him for killing you again. Just as he would have lunged at you, push Tony out of the way and did you away for good, Bucky burst into the room with the expression of a cantankerous 100 year old grandpa who had had enough with the world.

“For fucks sake! Just shut up you both!” He yelled and paced the room. His eyes were bloodshot and hair disheveled, a clear sign that your rivalry was taking a heavy toll on him. Steve opened his mouth to say something when Bucky raised a finger to shush him. “No no no! You listen to me you oblivious, utter moronic fucklets!”

Your mouth dropped open. Bucky never cursed at you. He had never called you a fucklet before.

“You two need to stop. You hear me? You need to STOP!” He raked a hand through his hair before kicking the ground in frustration. “I can’t eat. I can’t sleep! I can’t fucking breathe without you both arguing over who is a better friend to me. So, here’s an idea. Instead of fucking me over in the middle of your sexual tension, why don’t you find a room and fuck each other? Because I tell you now, I cannot fucking take it!”

Silence sat pregnant in the room. You blinked at Bucky. Steve blinked at Bucky. Tony blinked at Bucky. And Bucky didn’t blink at all.

“That – uh – what?” You said, eloquent as ever. “That is so stupid.” And you laughed awkwardly.

Steve glanced at you and then stammered, “What? That – I haven’t – that has nothing to do with it. She and I – what?”

You both found each other’s eye, quickly looked away and just became silent. The tension in the air was suffocating you, and a terrible heat was settling in your stomach. Without another word, you walked out of the room, muttering about how ridiculous the whole idea was. The three men watched your exit, and a moment later, Steve left too, still very much in disbelief.

Tony and Bucky sighed, sitting across from each other and just taking in the fact that the elephant in the room had finally been address. A moment later, Tony began drumming on the desk, looking up at the ceiling.

“I couldn’t have put it any better myself.”

You felt antsy, as if staying one more moment in your room would drive you mad. You kept jerking your legs and arms, a weird restlessness in every action of yours. What the hell was Bucky saying? The sheer nerve to imply that you…you and Steve had some sort of feelings for each other. You hadn’t heard that kinda crap since you nursed your nephew who’d had diarrhea.

The only reason you and Steve fought was because you wanted Bucky. He was supposed to be your best friend, and clearly it was his inability to decide who he preferred more that had led you here. And to pretend, on top of that, that it was you who was at fault was just ridiculous. As if you’d touch Steve Rogers with a ten foot pole.

But…would you? You suppose he couldn’t be that bad to touch. He did have gorgeous eyes that got all dark and dilated when he fought with you. And his breath hitched when you got him mad and he bit his lip to stop from cursing you and he flushed a very becoming shade of red that started from his cheeks and disappeared down the neckline on his tight shirts that –

Holy fuck!

The realization rocked your world. What the hell? When you thought about it again, it seemed as if you’d just described Steve being aroused. Did you really fight him and got him mad to stimulate yourself? Oh god. Bucky was right. You wanted to fuck Steve.

This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all. You quickly changed into your work out gear and rushed to the gym, intent on sweating out whatever feelings you might have for Steve. After all, nothing says fuck you like imagining someone’s face on a punching bag and just going to town on it. Thankfully, when you arrived the gym was empty.

You’d been working on your stretches for only a few minutes when your worst nightmare entered the gym. He probably had the same idea as you and froze the moment your eyes met. His blue eyes narrowed at you and you stood up straight. You hated Bucky for putting the thought in your head. Now all you could think of was tackling Steve to the ground and fucking him senseless. You still wanted to beat him, but in a very different way.

As Steve entered, his eyes fixed to your form, you decided it was time to leave. After that fiasco in front of Tony, you didn’t think yourself capable of talking to Steve. Staying alone with him was something you didn’t trust yourself with. So you picked up your bag and started for the door when his voice stopped you.

“Running away? Am I to believe that there is something that finally scares you?”

Anger, red hot anger simmered under your veins when you turned to face him again. He had a mocking smirk on his face that made you grit your teeth. His eyes, dark and challenging beckoned you to him, but they didn’t hold resentment there either. Something between you had changed today. The very air around you was different, thick with tension and apprehension that had your nerves tingling.

“Scared?” You scoffed, dropping your bag on the matted floor and walking until you stood right before him. He towered over you in height, but he’d never been able to actually look down at you. “Me, scared of you? You wish Rogers.”

One corner of his lips lifted up, and he put his hands on you. One hand hooked around your waist and pulled you closer, the other trailing a finger down the side of your face to your neck, following the path down your arm until his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Oh, I so do wish” He whispered and his lips met yours. You rose up on your toes, mashing your body against his and mapping the planes of his body with your palms. The smell of his sweat and soap surrounded you, your arms coming to hold him around the shoulders as he hitched you up so you could wrap your legs around him.

Like everything in your relationship, the kiss was explosive. You didn’t melt against each other like people do in books; you collided like two warring armies intent on conquering the other. You collided like night and day, basking your surroundings in the dawn and dusk of your lust. Steve took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, smiling as you shamelessly moaned.

“What do you say?” He asked, pushing you against the wall, his hardness digging between the heated center of your legs.

You pulled him closer, letting your lips trail over his jaw and neck before you branded him with a quick bite. “You’ve always been so aggressive Steve, let’s see you let loose some other way. I sure do hope you fuck better than you fight though, or I’ll just be disappointed.”

Steve growled, kissing you again as he ground his cock against you, trapping you between the wall and his hard body that prevented any escape. Your hands slipped under his t-shirt, meeting the firm muscles on his abdomen that rippled under you. He pulled back just enough to allow you to remove your clothes, his own being flung sideways without any care.

Even before, you’d never thought of Steve as anything but beautiful, but now, seeing him in all his glory, you could only look him up and down in appreciation. He was trembling slightly, as if holding himself back with effort, his eyes not leaving you for a second. You both looked at each other, naked and unashamed before frantically coming together. His hands were everywhere, squeezing your ass and thighs as his lips pulled at your breast.

Your fingers rolled his nipples softly until he moaned, and then you pinched them. He jerked under your touch, kicking the back of your knees so you collapsed down, and he covered your body with his. Anger, arousal, lust and longing, all emotions built together in a storm of incoherent desire that had you both rolling over each other, fighting for dominance and power. Steve pinned you down with effort, holding your wrists in one hand over your head as he gave a smug smile to you.

“Will you finally surrender today?” He asked, positioning his cock at your entrance that was drenched. You would have loved to taste him, to have him taste you, but as of now, all you wanted was for him to slide inside you. You hungered for him, burnt for his touch. For years you’d been left wanting, and now with the prize so near, you weren’t about to wait any longer.

“The only surrender today will be yours.” You whispered sweetly before slamming your head against his. Steve jerked hard in surprise, allowing you the opportunity to free your hands and roll over him. You sat on his pelvis proudly, his throbbing member right underneath you and as he blinked at you, stunned, you rose up over his tip and slowly sunk down.

Steve groaned as your wet channel fell like velvet heat along his shaft. You had never been so full before. He stretched your limits, as he had always done, and you decided you very much preferred rendering him speechless like this under you than your usual punches and throws. His hands dug into your waist, helping you bounce on his cock and you threw your head back at the feeling.

It was a beautiful ache, one that took your breath away. As you rolled your hips and clenched down there, Steve’s voice rose in appreciation and you grinned. You finally had the golden boy at your mercy. You fucked him, changing your pace to punish him, never letting him up. For every time he killed you, you bit on his lips and neck, marking him. It was punishment and cherishing, a culmination of feelings you didn’t understand.

“Touch me.” You brokenly said, and his fingers found your nub. The slapping of skin, the sounds of debauchery and the smell of sin filled the air. You leaned over him to meet his lips, the heat in your gut bubbling until you snapped and came atop him, falling blissfully. It was one moment of weakness and the world titled, Steve having finally pushing you on your back.

“You’ve always been strong, because I’d hate to break you when the fun has only just begun.” He said and thrust into you hard and fast. He was an animal in heat, a man possessed, and you didn’t mind one bit. You met his every thrust with a raise of your hips, you clawed at his back until he bled, your lips tasting of the salt of sweat and tears and desire. He brought you impossibly closer, looking right into your eyes as he took you.

For the life of you, you couldn’t look away. You couldn’t get enough of his grunts and moans, of the breathy whispers of your name that slipped between curses, of the way his lashes would flutter over the dark blues that kept your eyes captive. He had you completely in that moment, mind and body; and for some reason, his gaze felt infinitely more intimate than his cock that was currently spearing you open. You keened in pleasure, whimpering as he touched your overly sensitive clit and had you coming again.

A minute later, he twitched inside you, his warmth flooding your core and you sighed. You laid entangled and sweaty, both of you spent and tired and yet completely overtaken by the urge to be closer still. To think this is what you’d both missed for all these years.

“So, what do you say, still feeling aggressive?” Steve asked and you looked at him with a grin that you couldn’t have suppressed had you wanted to. Oh yes, some battles were never meant to end, but they sure could be altered to meet new demands.

“With you? Always.” You replied, kissing him deep until he couldn’t think of anything but you. “Just remember one thing.”

“Oh yeah, what?”

“I am still a better best friend to Bucky. I did fuck you to keep him happy after all.”

Steve frowned darkly and before you could blink, he was over you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I think this time I’d fuck some manners into you.”

“I think this time you should actually put your back into it. I did all the work before.” You taunted and he dived at you.

Meanwhile, in Tony Stark’s office

“Friday, what’s the score?” He asked smugly, offering Bucky the packet of blueberries. Bucky was sitting with his feet on the desk, a small smile on his face.

“I am afraid I am not at a liberty to say Boss.” Friday replied. If the AI could blush, she would.

“Seems like they are at an impasse.” Tony suggested, and Bucky shrugged, licking his lips.

“Well, some things never change.”

[sirensmojo]

"Big Bank!" - Hubby! Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Big Fluff, Old Money love story vibes.

Summary: Tommy decided to let his wife take care of his Gin. He comes to taste it for the first time after the Gin was met with great success.

A/N: We stand for a caring & trusting Thomas, sorry not sorry.

*Masterlist*

It was a windy day when Tommy entrusted you with his Gin distillery.

The sun was out, as your children were running around the garden, their giggling easing his mind. His head dropped backward on the garden chair as fingers of one of his hands were fidgeting with his cup or whiskey, as a cigarette was locked in between his lips.

Spring was early this year, much to your family’s pleasure. Spending time outside was something you loved to do, and knowing Tommy’s busy agenda, you made sure to make every family moment the best one.

No need to say time flew so fast, the days becoming months, becoming years.

Tommy and you was an evidence. From the day you bumped into each other in the London’s library his sister Ada used to work, you were inseparable. Thus you didn’t know each other for very long, but everything between you made this fact questionable.

You were acting as if you knew each other since children, a single look and you understood what the other thought. Not too many words were said, but not too many words were needed.

Although you weren’t Tommy’s first wife, you were “the perfect two”, making all the people you knew jealous and envious.

“My love,” you announced your presence when coming closer to the garden table as your husband was eyes closed. “I did some thinking.” You added, catching his attention.

Tommy straightened back his head and he was now facing you as you seated in front of him, glimpsing from afar of your three little boys.

“You know I don’t like your whiskey or any type of alcohol, truly.” You raised your brows, and he puffed on his cig, waiting for you to continue. “I want to make Shelby’s Gin.” You let out outright.

No need to turn around your wish, by the way he shifted position you already knew he was ready to hear anything, and you didn’t want to disturb him from his peace. You knew how he dearly appreciated those little moments in which he didn’t have to think about running a business or dealing with dirty gangsters and rude people.

“You want to do what?” He raised a brow not too sure he heard you well, but when he caught eyes of your lips curling at the corner of your mouth, he knew he had heard it well.

His family was his haven of peace and you would do anything to take off some weight off your Shelby’s shoulders. it was a regular task, a daily basis habit that you quickly took and that you’ll probably never lose.

“I already tried a mixture.” His deep voice accentuating your smile.

“It’s my turn now, you played enough with that, you need to focus on real business now. Put your mind elsewhere and let me fill my bottles.”

You couldn’t quite put your finger on what changed precisely, but you noticed a shifting in your husband’s expression along with the gleam animating his iris.

You thought it was worry.

You lost your father a few months ago due to lung disease and your mother died long ago when you were the age of your own children, and as an only child, you were now all alone without your parents.

Gracefully you had Tommy and the kids because if you hadn’t you didn’t know how you would’ve handled this loss.

As being a sensible cord, your husband didn’t bring it up, and he wasn’t the type of comforting people with words anyway, but he tried it his way, which means he bought you a ridiculous amount of new jewellery and books because he knew how much you liked to read and how you were a simp for big diamonds.

Incidentally, Tommy always found it funny how much time you spend with your nose in books while having a voracious appetite for jewellery. He would never miss an occasion to make fun of you when catching you reading as you had to wear glasses, and it was all funny and stuff till he too, had to wear glasses to read.

Now, in bed, you looked like two old people, instead, you were reading adventure and dramatic novels whereas he was stuck with political subjects.

“Okay.” He didn’t hesitate a single moment which made you smile.

“Okay?” you repeated, your smile growing as seconds passed. He straightened back, leaning over the table to you and his hands reached for yours.

You intertwined your fingers together with ease, sparkles spreading at the tips of each of it.

It was that way with every of his touches. He just had that power over you, which you were proud of as it was just love. It could never be anything else.

His deep blue eyes were anchored into your Y/C/E’s ones and you knew he was trying to bring you comfort. He knew what it felt like to lose people, and was ready to give you whatever if that meant to ease your pain.

You neared your faces and he ran his thumb over the end of your nose, down to your lips as cupping your cheek with his palm. Tommy’s head was slightly tilted to the side, his only purpose being to reach your soul with either his touch or his soul hidden behind his iris.

You leaned your head into his touch and closed your eyes for a second, enjoying that moment between the two of you as the breeze made its way to your neck under your mane.

Now, nearly five weeks later, all Birmingham was only speaking of the Shelby family as the people making “the good priced good gin” according to what you heard in the streets. From the fancy restaurant to the underground pubs, everyone in town had tasted of that oh so liked liquor.

Tommy first heard how good the gin was by his brother Arthur. He, who liked to get drunk all day long and all night long, was always keeping a bottle of it in his car or even on himself.

Then it was Ada, always offering him a drink of it whenever he would visit her.

(...)

It was 4 in the afternoon when Tommy walked through Charlie’s yard to join the Gin factory, when opening the door he was surprised to see you, seated at the old dusty desk filling paper and sipping on several cups.

Your husband frowned, “Y/N?”. He didn’t know if he should be worried or glad to see you working in such a place while drinking a lot knowing you’re not even a drinker in the first place.

You lifted your gaze to him and a huge smile instantly warmed up the atmosphere in the space, “Tommy!” You exclaimed as you got up. Being a bit dizzy you were strongly holding onto the table while getting up but you wanted to join him, and that’s when Tommy noticed your reddened cheek and little eyes.

“You’re drunk,” he stated, concerned. His expression shifted. He seemed a bit worried as he took one of your wrists to help you walk correctly.

You waved your free hand before you as to blow away his remark, “I was trying a new mixture for the Gin.” You informed him. You slid a hand into his rough one and stepped backwards, to the desk. “Here, choose one and tell me.” You proudly pointed to each of the cups. “This one on the left is spicy, the middle one a little too sweet for the Americans, this one to the right is the version that is out, and the last one is a bit strong. If the sadness hit too much.”

“The sadness?” Tommy asked while grabbing the third cup, being the gin that was already out. He was quite startled by how implicated his wife seemed to be, he didn’t actually think she would invest that much time and energy in this activity, but he was relieved she found a reason to get up every morning other than their beautiful family.

He knew how living a life without having or serving a purpose was meaningless and boring, even more, when being saddened by something you can’t control such as the death of a loved one.

The Shelby brother will sleep better now, knowing his other half found purpose somewhere, even if seeing her drunk was a sight he could never get used to…

At this moment, he felt the need to feel her skin under his touch before doing anything else, and that’s what he did, putting his hand at the end of her back, he pulled her closer, his thumb rubbing her skin over the fabric of her dress.

Tommy then drank from the cup and took his time judging the taste of it.

He opened his eyes and dropped the cup on the desk before turning to his wife, she was looking at him, impatience spreading all over her face. She seemed ready to hear Tommy’s opinion on her Gin... On their gin.

The blue-eyed man grabbed her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to Y/N’s. She closed her eyes a couple of seconds before opening them to a staring Tommy. He was fondling her cheeks with his thumbs before exhaling deeply, “I now understand why everyone’s talking about us, Shelbys, being fucking genius’, eh” He got distracted by her lips.

“This,” he pointed to the bottle standing at the corner of the table, and, once again, Tommy got distracted, he noticed words were present on the bottle down the name. “Distilled for the eradication of incurable sadness.” He read out loud.

A faint smile was found on his face before he agitated the bottle in his hand. He was proud.

He put down the bottle and directly sealed his lips to Y/N’s, the calling for love being too loud to resist.

That was exactly why it was her and no one else, she was always unpredictable and versatile. Who would have thought his bibliophile wife could be a real gem in the making of gin?

She put away, gasping for air before looking him in the eyes, “What? Did I never tell you the fact that my grandpa was making alcohol?” She teased his lips by speaking inches away from them, “I know one or two tricks. That’s why it’s selling well.” She concluded before pressing their lips together eagerly.

“This is a big bank, yea” He succeeded at saying in between two kisses.

[vrishchikawrites]

Reverse transmigration wangxian where LWJ who cultivates to immortality found an old summoning array where mxy fails to summon wwx but the whole thing with JGY still got revealed. LWJ in his grief summons WWX in our modern world, and the rest is up to you :) Maybe get WWX some therapy and loving family and how different modern days people are

This one is a bit angsty and has vague descriptions of sex. Modern AU.

“The Tragedy of Wei Wuxian - The Man Behind the Legend”

Lan Wangji caresses the title of the book with a thumb, eyes tracing a name he has always held close to heart but hasn’t heard for a long time.

“We all know of Wei Ying, courtesy Wuxian as Yiling Laozu. He’s one of the first to cultivate successfully with ‘resentful’ energy. His theories and papers helped us develop a greater understanding of yin energy, Qi deviation, and resentful spirits. He was a visionary, a man ahead of his time, someone who thought outside the box and looked for solutions instead of sticking to the norm. He’s also the first known person to donate his Golden Core.”

Wangji looks away for a moment, remembering Wen Ning’s snarling face and Jiang Wanyin’s rage, denial, and guilt.

“But we don’t talk about what brought that great visionary down. Society, as it did with many great thinkers, turned against him. In his youth, Wei Wuxian was one of the most accomplished cultivators of his generation. No one knows exactly what happened for him to develop the so-called ‘Ghostly Path’. His loss of the Golden Core may have been a factor, but the actual circumstances are shrouded in mystery.

What follows after the War of the Five Great Clans, known as the Sunshot Campaign, is nothing short of a tragedy. Wei Wuxian saw injustice happening and decided to fight against it. Society tore him up for it. At that time, all actions against him were justified and considered righteous. Those actions don’t stand up to scrutiny under the modern lens. Like all great and radical thinkers, Wei Wuxian ideals made him the enemy and that led to this tragic death, along with the murder of innocent war prisoners he sought to protect. There are unconfirmed reports of there being a child among the Wens.”

Wangji’s eyes flicker over to a picture frame sitting on his desk, an image of Sizhui and Jingyi smiling up at him through the glossy image. They’re well, he knows. Last he heard from them, they were in South Korea and having a great time.

Sizhui must not know of this book or he would’ve called immediately, always so concerned about his a’die.

“It was later revealed that hunger for power and political maneuvering led to his death. When we study the historical records, it is obvious that the man was pushed into the corner and was forced to retaliate. Unfortunately, no one cared about his fate-”

“I did,” Wangji whispered to himself, thinking back on silver eyes in an indistinct face. He loved - still loves Wei Ying - but the physical aspects of him have long since faded from his memory. He sometimes remembers Wei Ying’s laugh. Sometimes, he dreams of his smile. He doesn’t recall what Wei Ying sounded like, only remembering his tone when he said ‘Lan Zhan.’

And yet, Lan Wangji hasn’t forgotten love.

He reads the book in silence, going through all 375 pages of it without pausing to eat or sleep. It tells the story of Wei Ying in stark, blunt terms. There are a few facts missing or erroneous. He wasn’t the adopted child of the Jiangs. There was certainly no unrequited love between Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli.

There’s very little mention of him. According to this book, Lan Wangji is a mere footnote in Wei Wuxian’s life; a childhood acquaintance, a disapproving comrade, and later a man who unraveled the truth because he pursued justice.

“He was just 23 years old when he died,” Wangji lingers over that statement, “23-year-olds are barely adults. They hold the promise of a bright future. They have so much potential inside of them. At 23, some people graduate from college, some take up their first serious job. At 23, young people fall in love and maybe form a life-long bond. Wei Wuxian became a key player in a big conflict at 17, he donated his core at 17. At 17, we still have children in high school. Our seventeen-year-olds aren’t even allowed to drink or drive. Our seventeen-year-olds are still protected and sheltered by their parents.

That is perhaps the biggest tragedy of Wei Wuxian’s life. He was only allowed to live a carefree life for seven years, from the day he was taken off the streets to the day the YunmengJiang Sect was attacked. After that and until his death, his life was marked by war, strife, betrayal, and persecution.

A visionary, a hero, a brilliant mind, dead by what most would consider suicide.” Wangji’s breath hitches and he takes a moment to collect himself, the sentence ringing in his head.

“He deserved better.”

---

He deserved better, Wangji thinks as he walks sedately towards his library.

There had been a glimmer of hope, all those years ago when Mo Xuanyu attempted to resurrect Wei Ying, but when he failed to do so, Wangji felt something shatter in him.

Whatever Wei Ying had done had completely destroyed his soul. His precious, noble soul. One that was formed for justice and kindness.

He deserved better.

He knows what he must do.

---

An immortal’s Golden Core has immeasurable power. It is the result of several hundred years of Cultivation and diligence. Wangji is more powerful than most, having survived through war, strife, grief, and loss.

An immortal’s Golden Core can also be an ingredient.

‘Draw the talismans shown below in the blood of your heart. Pin them in eight directions, north, northwest, west, southwest, south, southeast, east, and northeast. Sit in the exact center of this circle and sacrifice half of your cultivation to the being you wish to summon.’’

Wangji’s heart and hands are steady as he draws the talismans from blood drawn directly from the artery. He pins them in all eight directions and sits down in the middle, his hands moving elegantly to summon his Qi. He breathes in and breathes out, sinking into meditation with habitual ease.

It will work.

It has to.

The room floods with Resentful Energy.

---

He deserves better.

Wangji feels torn apart in ways he has never experienced before. The ritual summoning carves something out of his chest and drags it away. His mouth floods with blood and his body weakens alarmingly.

But it doesn’t matter.

Wei Ying.

---

Wei Ying is more beautiful than Wangji remembers. He is bloodsoaked, covered in cuts and bruises, saturated with Resentful Energy, but he’s alive.

And he’s beautiful.

Wangji stumbles to his feet, shakily walking into the bathroom to fetch some warm water. He walks back, his arms feeling the weight of the bucket like they have never carried such weight before. With every step that he takes towards Wei Ying, his heartbeat spikes up a little. He doesn’t know if he chose the right time. He doesn’t know if Wei Ying’s spirit had shattered before his death and dying had just been the aftermath.

Maybe Wei Ying’s body is here and not his soul.

Wangji cannot bear thinking about it.

With weak, shaking hands and the taste of blood lingering in his mouth, he slowly reaches forward. Layer by layer, he removes Wei Ying’s clothes, his fingertips tingling because his beloved’s body is warm.

He deserves better.

With aching tenderness, he wipes Wei Ying clean, removes all blood, grime, and mud from his body.

Wei Ying doesn’t stir.

---

There’s a gentle touch against his cheek. It is strange enough to wake him up because few people dare touch Lan Wangji. Slender fingers tap once, twice, almost playfully and Wangji knows who it is even before he opens his eyes.

Like a sun emerging from the horizon, Wei Ying appears before him, his smile bright and questioning.

“Wei Ying,” He breathes and Wei Ying nods, eyes a sparkling silver. There is so much beauty in that face that he can’t help but reach forward. Ignoring Wei Ying’s surprise, he cups his face and leans forward pressing his forehead against his beloved’s.

Wei Ying is still for a long moment, but he moves eventually, setting hands on Wangji’s shoulder. He doesn’t push him away, just huffing in soft amusement.

“Wei Ying,” He whispers, closing his stinging eyes, “Forgive Wangji for his selfishness.” He says, “I summoned you.” I summoned you without asking, knowing you wouldn’t desire it.

Wei Ying huffs again and that’s when it strikes him.

He pulls back and looks at his beloved in concern, scanning his eyes, face, neck, and chest quickly, his heart racing.

Why wasn’t Wei Ying speaking?

---

“You’re right in suspecting that his spirit sustained some sort of injury even before he was… killed.” Lan Jingyi says softly, pulling away from the sleeping Wei Ying, “There’s nothing physically wrong with him, Hanguang-jun, please don’t worry! His spirit just needs a little bit of time to recover.”

Wangji nods gratefully as he watches Sizhui lean over Wei Ying, his expression full of wonder and desperate happiness. As Sizhui’s cultivation grew, he started remembering more things from his childhood. They have never spoken on the matter of Wei Ying, but Wangji knows his son remembers more than he did when he was a child.

“Now, please let me check you.”

He levels a sharp look at the younger man but Lan Jingyi is no longer the adoring and naive student Wangji taught all those years ago. He’s a strong, accomplished cultivator and an avid researcher.

Lan Jingyi ignores him cheerfully and checks his core, stepping into Wangji's personal space without a care.

He narrows his eyes at the steely glint in the boy's eyes.

"I know you love him, Hanguang-jun," Lan Jingyi says, "And love is worth a life." They're immortals, life has little meaning for people who have lived for centuries, "But I wonder if the Wei Wuxian that you so adore will be happy about you risking your life for him."

Wangji's eyes flicker towards Wei Ying, who looks exhausted even in his sleep. "He deserved better."

Lan Jingyi is silent for a moment before he speaks, "Sizhui and I read the book on our flight back. Everything was horrible, I'm not surprised that his spirit sustained so much damage. But it is almost entirely intact now. It shows how much he wants to live, Hanguang-jun."

It's a relief.

---

Wei Ying can't speak but his presence is still loud. He rests for a few weeks to recover from his injuries. During that time, Wangji spends most of his days moving from Wei Ying's bedside to the library and back again.

His beloved has an insatiable hunger for knowledge. He wants to know everything about the modern world.

Every morning, Wangji is confronted with a bright face with sparkling eyes waving a book or a scroll in his direction.

Wangji hasn't experienced such liveliness in centuries. The very air of his home glows with Wei Ying's vitality. Wei Ying's body recovers quickly and soon the man is out of bed and following Wangji around.

His heart feels too big for his chest.

By all appearances, Wei Ying is perfectly content. He walks around Cloud Recesses, visits Caiyi Town, and is happy to watch the sunset with Wangji every evening.

That had been Wangji's wish when he performed that summoning.

He wanted Wei Ying to have another chance to live free and happy.

Looking at him now, Wangji wants to reach out, cup that cheerful face, and pepper kisses all over it. He wants to kiss those fluttering eyelids, smooth cheeks, sharp jawline-

That soft, smiling mouth.

Wangji is an immortal. He has endless patience. He can wait for Wei Ying to come to him.

He must wait.

---

The modern world fascinates Wei Ying. His beloved looks at everything from tall buildings to food stalls with wide, stunned eyes. Cloud Recesses and Caiyi Town are still relatively untouched by the passage of time, but Wei Ying has free access to the internet and has learned how to use it within two months of his arrival.

Wangji doesn't restrain him.

He just watches as Wei Ying, his brilliant and enthusiastic love, learns to thrive in his new world.

His voice has still not returned but that doesn't seem to bother Wei Ying. He is delighted to learn that there's a way to communicate nonetheless.

He starts learning sign language and Lan Wangji, with patient and steady hands, practices with him.

---

Lan Sizhui follows Wei Ying around with quiet affection and aching tenderness. He's much older than Wei Ying now, but he remains their son in spirit. He treats Wei Ying like a senior, with respect and adoration.

His Wei Ying notices, of course. At first, he finds the situation quite strange but Wei Ying isn't stupid.

'Lan Zhan,' He asks, 'Who is Sizhui?'

Wangji brings his fingers up and replies, 'He's your a-Yuan. I went looking for you but found him instead.'

Wei Ying's eyes widen and he spins around, running out of the room to seek Sizhui.

Wangji follows sedately and when he finds his love and his son, they're embracing while crying tears of joy.

---

'Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan!'

Wangji huffs under his breath and carefully sets his brush down, tucking the scroll away before turning to meet bright silver eyes.

Wei Ying leans forward with an eager expression, 'Do you know where Suibian is?'

Wangji nods, 'In storage. I was able to retrieve it from the Jin Clan.'

'Can I have it?'

Wangji rises smoothly to his feet and leads Wei Ying to storage where both Suibian and Chenqing.

Wei Ying only glances at Chenqing for a moment before reaching for Suibian with a desperate expression.

Suibian, a blade that has remained sealed since Jiang Wanyin unsheathed it once, easily reveals itself again.

Wei Ying spins around eagerly and looks at him with pleading eyes.

As Wangji is able to deny Wei Ying nothing, he reaches for Bichen and they immediately head for the training grounds.

It has been a long time since Wangji has really used Bichen to its full capacity. With half of his core pulsing within Wei Ying, they're almost evenly matched.

Wangji has not fought in ages but Wei Ying is still a Cultivator. The spar is fast-paced and thrilling. Wangji acquaints himself with Wei Ying as his love becomes reacquainted with his sword.

Wei Wuxian had been one of the best swordsmen of his generation. He has lost none of his elegance and skill. Wangji presses him and Wei Ying laughs soundlessly, twirling around him in white GusuLan robes, bright and joyful.

He breaks Wangji's heart and mends it at the same time.

---

Wangji has missed Wei Ying for hundreds of years.

He can't resist the urge to touch. He keeps it chaste and respectful but his hands have a mind of their own in Wei Ying's vicinity.

When they're out and about, Wangji guides Wei Ying with a hand on his back. It becomes natural to grasp his love's elbow if he wants Wei Ying's attention.

His touches can easily be dismissed as gestures of friendship by most. But Wei Ying knows him.

'er-gege,' Wei Ying's smile is sweet, 'Wei Ying is cold.'

Wangji's eyes flicker over to the lit fire briefly before landing on his love, 'Are you feeling well?' He asks in concern, reaching forward to place the back of his hand on Wei Ying's forehead.

His beloved laughs and nods, leaning into the touch with a sly smile, 'I'm well, just cold.'

Wangji feels a stir in his chest at the intent look in Wei Ying's eyes. Hesitantly, he cups Wei Ying's cheek in silent question.

Wei Ying nuzzles his palm, his eyelids fluttering close gently.

Desperation and elation flood him and Wangji sucks in a sharp breath. He moves in a blur, lifting Wei Ying off his seat and placing him on his lap.

Wei Ying gasps and giggles, his tall, strong body seeming to almost shrink as he cuddles close. Wangji wraps both arms around his love and squeezes him tight, rocking them gently as he is assaulted with painful love.

"Wei Ying, Wei Ying, Wei Ying," He chants in Wei Ying's hair, holding him so close, it feels like there's no part of him not touching his love.

When Wei Ying turns to him with a smile in his eyes, Wangji doesn't hesitate to lean forward, bringing their lips together in a long-awaited kiss.

He presses Wei Ying back against the crook of his elbow and tastes his silent laugh on his tongue.

Wangji has never felt so blissful and complete.

---

Jingyi convinces Wei Ying to go to therapy.

Eager to learn and curious, Wei Ying agrees.

He returns from every session with a thoughtful expression.

Months pass but his voice is still lost.

---

They make love and Wei Ying mouths the words he wants to speak. He smiles, sobs, laughs, and pouts as Wangji takes him apart bit by bit.

Wangji has never known such pleasure. He loses himself, drowning in Wei Ying's scent and finding heaven in his body.

He enjoys feeling smooth skin. He sinks his fingers into Wei Ying's silken hair. He tastes the sharp edge of his jaw. He bites. He drives in and takes ownership of Wei Ying's pleasure.

He presses his mischievous sprite into their bed and doesn't hold back, centuries of love pouring out of him.

---

A combination of therapy and Wei Ying's natural approach to life makes his recovery quick. Within a year, he's well-adjusted and happy.

He laughs at almost everything. The first time they fly, the first time they visit an amusement park, the first time they go to an aquarium.

He laughs and Wangji starts noticing the color of his voice returning to it.

Wangji is grateful for what he has. He's grateful that Wei Ying is back, safe, and happy. He is grateful that Wei Ying is unharmed.

But he cannot lie to himself. He misses Wei Ying's voice.

---

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,"

Wangji almost misses it, as engrossed as he is. He presses in deep and feels a shiver of pleasure race down his spine. Wei Ying's fingers curl around Wangji's nape and his lips caress his ear.

"Lan Zhan,"

He stills.

Wangji takes a deep, bracing breath and pulls back a little, balancing on his arms to peer down at his lover.

Wei Ying is a vision. His cheeks flushed, his eyes wide and dark with passion, his lips bitten red from Wangji's kisses. His long hair is scattered and wild, a tangle of glossy strands across Wangji's pillow.

"Lan Zhan,"

Wei Ying's lips move and a voice accompanies that movement. It is slightly hoarse, somewhat weak, but it is still the voice he barely remembers.

Heat flares in him and he sinks deeper, pulling a sharp gasp from Wei Ying.

He spends the entire night filling their room with that precious voice.

---

Wei Ying doesn't ask questions. He doesn't ask why Wangji did what he did. He doesn't ask how he did it. His beloved has always been perspective and he understood Wangji's desperation from the moment he woke.

He reads the book that triggered it all and laughs, "Aiya, they make me out to be some sort of martyr for justice." He says fondly, for he is very fond of the modern world.

Sizhui is sitting at his feet, eyes closed in bliss as Wei Ying gently combs his hair, styling it into an intricate braid.

"They're not wrong, though." Jingyi can never sit straight and he has forgotten all of his Lan teachings over the years. He has his legs thrown over the arm of his chair and his head is dangling over another arm, his hair sweeping the floor as he nods.

Ridiculous.

"I never asked to be glorified in such a way." Wei Ying protests with a chuckle.

"Baba should be grateful no one knows about his resurrection." Sizhui pipes up, "At least, you don't have to deal with modern stans."

Wangji arches a brow at the word and Wei Ying laughs, already more accustomed to the Internet language than Wangji is. "Oh, heaven forbid!"

"But listen, you and Hanguang-jun have the greatest love story ever, you could write a book about it, Wei-quanbei!"

Wei Ying tilts his head to the side and Wangji urges him to consider it with a subtle nod. Wei Ying is happy but he's never content to be idle. The modern world doesn't need cultivation, but perhaps it can benefit from their stories.

---

‘Once you summon successfully, you belong to this being for all eternity as payment for the one wish they may grant. Half of your core will live within them. If they die, you die. If they live, you live. If they hurt, you hurt. If they become corrupt, you become corrupt.

You will sacrifice immortality, but not the eternal bond. Every time you are reincarnated into this world, you will be tethered to the being.

Beware.

Wangji tucks the scroll away, sealing it so that it is never discovered again.

He has no regrets.

[urlkssknt]

a deep love confession

warnings!! nsfw!! unprotected sex!!

johnny x fem reader, 3k

johnny stared at you with such intensity, you had never seen that look in his eyes before. he looked mad. he was mad. at you, specifically. of course, you were a grown woman, one who could handle any form of danger, but that knowledge didn't help the anxiety that was weighing down on johnny's chest heavily. "where were you?" johnny tried to speak in the calmest tone he could muster but he was failing to mask his emotions. was it because you didn't inform him that you left for the deal or was it because he felt like you didn't trust him?

you scanned his posture as he stood still in your bedroom, a room that all of your men were forbidden from entering, even dohwan. yet, you always welcomed johnny. sighing, you began to shrug off the jacket you wore and placed it on your bed, not bothering to answer the man in your room. to you, it didn't seem like such a big deal, you were simply doing your job.

"y/n, i just asked you a question."

both of your eyes locked onto each other, a mutual look of intensity, hoping to try and read each other's minds, johnny just wanted to understand you but you were making it so difficult for him. your eyes were blank. you showed no detectable emotions.

"i don't answer to you," was what you said that threw johnny off the edge. whatever patience was left in him now vanished. groaning loudly, johnny ran his hand through his hair and held onto his neck. he couldn't shout at you, he couldn't do anything.

you infuriated him.

johnny decided it was best to leave you alone, maybe forever. the feelings he felt for you heavily trumped what you felt for him, johnny assumed in his mind, that was always constantly things about you. there was no way to tell what you were thinking and it stressed him out. he just wanted to understand you.

"wow," johnny scoffed, placing his hands on his hips as he glared at you, the way you just gazed back at him obliviously pissed him off even more, "i guess i shouldn't have worried about you then, huh?" anger was laced with every word he spoke in a voice that was quiet so no one that happened to be walking past could hear but loud enough for you to listen. the warm light of your room illuminated johnny's features, his beautiful face hardened like a rock, jaw tense. "do you even care that i was worried about you? i get that you don't care about you own life but i care, y/n! me!" you were speechless. feelings were never your strong point, voicing them aloud was even worse. slowly, you began to process johnny's words, however the said man took your silence literally and as a rejection.

feeling fed up, johnny began to walk towards the door, the sound of his leaving footsteps booming in your ear like thunder. it awoke something in you as if a switch had been turned on. johnny's fingers were ready to reach out for the door handle to leave out of your life before he froze in his steps, "i'm sorry."

you had apologised.

the two words were foreign to your tongue but you hoped johnny could hear the sincerity in your shakey voice. it was only a matter of a few more seconds before johnny felt your hands wrap around his waist, your head resting against his broad back. he felt warm to you. any anger that he experienced quickly evaporated with that one act.

"i can't stand to see the sight of you walking away," the image of it was still fresh in your mind, causing you to tighten your grip on him, in fear he would actually leave. your fingers trembled as you clutched johnny's cotton shirt. "the way i feel for you," you began slowly with a wavering voice as you thought out every word, trying to piece everything you wanted to say, "i haven't felt this way about anyone before, and i don't know if i deserve to feel it." your heart was hammering in your chest, you were afraid that johnny could feel it beating, a sheet of paper couldn't pass between your grip on the taller man.

as johnny felt your grip loosen, he instantly held your hands against him again.

"i love you," you whispered quietly in a defeated tone.

johnny turned around so quickly you were afraid he might have experienced whiplash. the hardened features of his face had finally softened, showing you everything you found so dearly beautiful about him. as his dark eyes pierced into yours, johnny raised one of his large hands to cup your face. he didn't miss the way you nestled into it further, the simple act causing his heart to skip a beat. the organ was beating so loudly out of his chest johnny was almost certain you could hear it in the comforting silence, unbeknownst to him, your heart matched his rapid pace.

"i want to be the one by your side, y/n," johnny's other free hand snaked around your waist to draw you closer to him, with your hands still wrapped around him, "please, i can handle everything you throw at me, just... let me be a part of your world." his forehead rested against yours, you could feel his warm breath falling upon your skin, finding peace in it. johnny was real and not a figment of your dreams that were beginning to replace the recurring nightmares that occupy your sleepless nights.

"but you'll get hurt," your body stiffened at the thought of johnny becoming hurt or worse, dead. all because of you.

"then let me," johnny held onto you tighter, embracing you with both arms, his scent unknowingly calming you down, "i know you'll protect me no matter what," he had spoken with a smirk that was so obvious in his voice.

gazing upon your face once more, johnny knew he reached your ice cold heart. that all his efforts didn't go to waste. your neck craned as you looked up at him with endearing eyes, as if he was the most perfect creature to have been created. it began to cause a stir in him. taking advantage of your dazed state, johnny angled his head lower so he could meet your lips. unlike the first kiss you both shared, the taste of tobacco is no longer lingering like a reminder of your habit, just the taste of your lip gloss. it was so sweet. johnny indulged himself in the sweetness, you kissed him back with an equal amount of eagerness. your slender fingers ran up the expanse of johnny's chest, standing on the tips of your feet to match his height but yet you were still shorter than him. the soft kiss quickly became anything but innocent, the urge to have johnny bed you almost had your knees buckling.

somehow, johnny had moved you both to your bed, where you sat in his lap, your thighs on either side of him. warm comforting hands ghosted along your bare legs, the skirt you wore had ridden up, revealing more inches of your body for johnny to touch. "i want you," you breathed as you pulled away from johnny's swollen lips.

johnny groaned at your words. he had imagined this moment ever since you deemed his yours, the thoughts normally continued in a lonesome cold shower and the company of his hand. a blush grazed his cheeks at the embarrassing thoughts. the blood rushed to his dick at the sight of your doe eyes pleading him to consent. "fuck," johnny's voice dropped an octave, "you sure, darling?"

the small nod of your head was the green light. his hands gripped at your hips, guiding you dangerously closer to feel where he needed you most. intently, johnny watched as you gasped at the feeling of his hardening dick through his jeans.

"i'll make you cum on my dick instead of my tongue," the lewd words were whispered softly, hot breath fanning against your ear, only for you to hear. in a matter of seconds, you felt johnny's pulp lips press opened-mouth kisses along the juncture of your neck, his lips upturned into a smirk when you titled your head to allow him to have more access. cherry blossoms trailed from beside your ear down to your collarbone. a gasp emitted from you at the harsh sting of your skin between johnny's teeth.

"you're so beautiful, y/n," you wondered how johnny viewed you, a psychotic bitch who needed to be locked up or someone who was deserving of love. cradling his face between your cold hands, you littered soft kisses all around johnny's handsome face, mentally swearing to yourself to kill anyone who as much places a scratch upon it. johnny stilled at the sudden affection. your wondering hands turn south from johnny's chest, you had the blessing of being able to peel the white t-shirt off from his body, leaving him bare before your eyes. johnny was very confident in his body, the way you drooled over him like a child craving a candy, made him chuckle. the laughter died when you suddenly began to undress yourself, revealing the dark lace undergarments you wore. johnny's mind wondered if you purposely wore such a thing for his eyes only.

returning to his lap, you innocently rolled your hips against johnny's unbelievably hard dick, eliciting a sound from him that made you clench around nothing. "do you want me to cum in my pants?" you blinked at him in confusion as if your heat wasn't sat directly on top of the area where he needed you most. johnny rolled his eyes at your unresponsive reaction. for a mafia boss, you knew nothing about sex. "where do you keep your condoms?" he shifted his weight in order to search through your bedside table for the packaged rubbers.

"i don't have any," you told johnny, watching the way the muscles in his back tense, "you're my first."

he knew this already but it spurred something in him to hear it again. johnny turned his head to you at lightning speed, catching you off guard. a voiceless part of him takes pride in knowing that you never took pleasure in someone else before him, unlike what the rest of the boys believed. if they only knew, johnny thought.

"darling, we can't do this then."

"no!" the sound of your own voice shocks you, never did you think you would be so intoxicated by a man that you'd loose all sense of pride, but johnny sat there, peering down at you, and suddenly the desire for him to fill you increased tenfold. "isn't it better without?" you reasoned, remembering the conversation with yuta about sex being better without protection. the chance of you getting pregnant during your first time seemed low to you, you knew it was a risk but you'd do anything to cease the throbbing you felt.

"yeah but-" johnny's reasoning was cut short by your lips kissing along his chest, so lightly like petals grazing against his skin, "baby." his groan only added to the wetness that was pooling in your panties, all for him.

your hands wrap around his neck to bring johnny's gaze back to your lustful ones, "it'd be nice," your voice sounded as smooth as butter, coaxing him to give into your every desire, "my belly swollen with your baby." you practically purr in his ear. johnny felt his dick twitch in its restrictive confinements, reminding himself of just how unforgivingly hard he is.

"for a virgin," johnny sighs shakily, feigning disappointment, as he began to undo his trousers, pushing his boxers down with them, "you have such a foul mouth," he moved to sit against the headboard of your bed that was fit for a king, "should i stuff it with my dick?" johnny hummed, not missing how your thighs rubbed together slightly.

all the arrogance left your body when you peered at johnny's dick, eyes lingering for a moment too long. you gulped. there was no way for you to tell if his size was regular, due to your inexperience, but he looked big.

mocking laughter fell from johnny, you looked so scared sat in his lap, having no absolute fucking clue what to do, a sight people would pay billions to see, and yet you trusted johnny enough to be the one who sees you like this. his chest swelled with pride. he was your first. somewhere in his heart, johnny knew he'd be your last too.

the tips of your fingers curled between johnny's soft locks as he pulled you back in his strong arms, slotting his warm lips between your own. his mind drifted back to when he ate you out, the taste of you still fresh in his mind. you moaned sinfully against him as his hand groped your breast through your bra, you rutted against him in response to the pleasure. his other hand itched it's way to your back, managing to unclap the lace material, freeing your breasts. leaning down, johnny doesn't miss the opportunity to press a kiss along the valley between your mounds, leaving you a sighing mess above him.

"please, john," you said breathlessly, you were aching for him to touch you in the area you desired most yet he avoided completely.

gripping your hips tightly, johnny guided you to be on top of him, your thighs straddling his waist yet again, after throwing your panties to pile with the rest of the disregarded clothes on the floor. your body trembled slightly out of nervousness. johnny cupped your face with his large palm, "we don't have to do this," he said again. your pleasure was the only thing that mattered to him, he could withstand another cold shower for your sake. however, you urged him to continue.

your hips bucked at the feeling of johnny's hand cupping your sex. "you're dripping," his eyes darkened at the way your wetness glistened under the lighting, before licking his hands clean as if it were the richest frosting, something straight out of a porno. the hum johnny produced caused a chill to run through your body as you completely focused on him.

wasting no more time, johnny aligned himself with your enterance, helping you slowly ease yourself onto him. every cry you emitted from the discomforting stretch was shushed with reassuring mumbles, encouraging words about you 'taking him so well,' and soft kisses peppered around your pain-ridden face. the air in your lungs left your body at the feeling of being completely filled. it took all of johnny's strength to not just thrust into you and take you as he pleased. your walls were so tight and so warm around him, his mind felt like it was going to explode.

as the pain surpassed, you began to rock your hips at a slow irregular pace. each second was agonising for johnny as all he could do was grip at your hip. he was sure a bruise would be left there tomorrow. the other hand kneed the flesh of your ass, coaxing you to move a bit faster. johnny's lips attached themselves to your left breast, swirling his tongue against your nipple softly, the gasp you let out only encouraged the assault. it wasn't until his teeth grazed the sensitive peak that you clenched around him deliciously. johnny cursed out as his hips bucked into yours, hitting a spot you didn't know existed, "do that again, darling."

your breaths were loud in your partner's ears, chest heaving as the air was knocked out of your lungs, your mind was filled to the brim with thoughts of johnny, much like your cunt was. the feeling of your orgasm approaching burned in your lower body.

"j-john," you tried to silence your pathetic whines by pressing your face into johnny's shoulder, his name fell like a mantra from your lips as if it were the only word you knew.

"my pretty, pretty girl," johnny cooed at the fucked out expression adorning your face, a look no one apart from him would ever be able to witness.

the rolling of your hips became sloppier, the longer you chased your high. your legs began to feel numb. johnny's hips suddenly began to thrust up into you, so deeply that tears prick the corners of your eyes.

"'m so close." it was a miracle that your nails didn't break as they created deep crescent-like cuts in johnny's back. you hung onto his shoulders for dear life. if you were hurting him, johnny didn't show it.

he was embarrassed to say it but johnny could feel his high rising in such a short time. the way you called his name when he couldn't be more closer to you made his head spin, slowly loosing control as you clenched around him tighter. grunts and groans fell from him, immediately being swallowed by your parted lips.

sweat adorned your skin, your hair matted against the top of your forehead, johnny couldn't imagine what he looked like himself, his hair was probably a mess from your clutches.

"fuck, john, why is your dick so big?"

"you did not just say that," johnny snorted, wishing he had a camera to capture the blush that crept on your cheeks in embarrassment, had you said the wrong thing?

"do you want me to cum in you, darling?" the lewd question was said with such innocence, no one would have suspected the effect it had on you, "should i?" johnny's grip got stronger, as if it were possible, and began to thrust his hips up into you, repeatedly hitting the spot that had you seeing stars. the quiet moans falling from your lips and the way your walls clenched around his dick were a big giveaway that you were nearly at your high.

you emitted a gasp as the coil in your stomach snaps, the pleasure quickly become too much as johnny continued to pound you from beneath. in a matter of seconds, you could feel the warmth of his load coating your walls.

finally, your lover stilled in you, waiting just one more moment before leaving your warmth. the whine from the loss of johnny's dick almost made him do a double-take, desiring to fill you up again. however he knew better and wanted to let you rest. johnny kissed the crown of your head, his strong arms holding your slumped body up against him. "you okay?"

you managed a small hum, feeling too tried to respond. johnny noticed your drooping eyelids, he gently helped you off his lap and lay down on your bed, despite your protests of missing his warmth. a small chuckle fell from him as he looked at the marks you created along his chest in the bathroom mirror. he went in to get a towel to clean you up with and a shirt for you to sleep in so you wouldn't sleep cold. by the time johnny returned, you had managed to fall asleep in the short time. regardless, the older man continued to clean up the mess between your thighs, he couldn't manage to slip your shirt on you so johnny made sure to tuck the blankets in tightly.

"john, can you sleep with me?" your small voice asked, tired eyes meeting his with a pleading look.

"what did we just do earlier," johnny joked as he put his boxers on, the light in your room casted a glow around him that likened him to an angel.

"stay with me."

your hand had managed to sneak its way out of the blanket and beckoned johnny to lay beside you. the sucker he was for you, anything you desired you would have, who was he to deny you of himself. sighing, johnny clambered into the cold bed, he shivered as he laid beside you. like a moth to a flame, you reached out to touch him, yearning for the warmth of his naked body. johnny was always warm and you were always cold.

"haechan will notice i'm not there," he said softly with his long fingers running through your hair.

"i don't care," you said simply, the members were almost certain that something was happening between you and johnny, they just needed confirmation. "neither should you, your thoughts should only consist of me."