#and he said to me in this super gravelly voice:

[thisusedtobeafanpage]

Going to horror theme parks is hard because i just find myself oddly attracted to all the scare actors

[mcrdvcks]

—please me

chapter summary: After dating for a while, you want nothing more than for Logan to really please you. Or, you beg Logan to finally fuck you.

word count: 2.2k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: here was the request

i don't have a lot of experience with the corruption kink, but i think this is it?? or maybe not, feel free to correct me😅

warnings/tags: old man logan, age gap, porn no plot, implied oral (f!receiving), pet names, begging, unprotected piv, corruption kink, praise kink, teasing, overstimulation, slight crybaby!reader(?), creampie

Normally you wouldn’t beg for something like this. You were a strong, independent woman who didn’t need no man, yet were more than happy to have one.

You weren’t like most girls your age either, moving from guy to guy never staying with one. It just wasn’t for you, you were never a super horny teenager, nor a super horny adult.

But when you started to date Logan, it was like you could feel the shift in your ovaries, and to make matters worse he never went the extra step, no matter how much you said you were ready.

It was always him going down on you, giving you beard burn that you delighted in, with the addition of his lovely thick fingers that always pushed you over. And sure, you went down on him, but that’s where it ended.

And you couldn’t help but want more, but Logan being Logan always made up an excuse about you being too young, or how he didn’t want to ruin a pretty little thing like you.

Logan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his beard glistening from the evidence of what he’d just done. You were still trembling, clutching at the sheets as the last waves of your release rolled through you, trying to catch your breath.

He shifted, moving up to sit beside you on the couch. The lazy smirk on his face told you he was proud of himself, as if he didn’t already know how good he was with his mouth and those ridiculously skilled fingers.

“You good, doll?” he asked, his voice gravelly and low, sending another shiver through your body.

You nodded, but something in you wasn’t satisfied. Not this time. It wasn’t enough anymore. You wanted more—needed more. And it wasn’t just your body begging; it was something deeper, something primal.

“Logan,” you murmured, sitting up on your knees and reaching out to touch his chest. Your fingers traced the lines of his muscles under the fabric of his shirt. He stiffened slightly, glancing at your hand before looking back up at your face.

“What is it, princess?” His tone softened a bit, though you caught the slight edge of wariness in it. He probably already knew what you were about to ask.

“I want you,” you whispered, leaning closer so your breath ghosted over his ear. “I need you.”

Logan groaned, running a hand over his face as if trying to wipe away the temptation that was you. “Y/N… we’ve talked about this. You’re… you’re too young, and I don’t wanna ruin you.”

You pulled back slightly, pouting in that way you knew he couldn’t resist. “I’m not a kid, Logan. I’m old enough to know what I want, and I want you.”

“Damn it, doll, don’t make this harder than it already is,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at you.

You weren’t going to let him get away with brushing you off this time. Shifting, you straddled his lap, your knees on either side of his hips. His hands instinctively moved to grip your thighs, and you felt the tension in his body as he tried to keep himself in check.

“Please, Logan,” you pleaded, grinding down against him. His breath hitched, and you knew you were getting to him. You leaned in, brushing your lips against his neck, trailing soft kisses up to his jaw. “I’ve been patient. I’ve waited, but I can’t anymore. I need you.”

He groaned again, his hands tightening on your thighs. “Doll, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Yes, I do,” you said firmly, pulling back to look him in the eye. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Logan’s resolve was crumbling; you could see it in the way his jaw tightened and his eyes darkened. He exhaled sharply, his grip on your thighs loosening slightly as he leaned his head back against the couch.

“Just the tip,” he muttered, almost as if trying to convince himself more than you. “Just the tip, and we stop if it’s too much.”

You nodded eagerly, your heart racing as you started to pull at his shirt. Logan’s rough hands came up to still yours, his calloused fingers wrapping around your wrists.

“Doll,” he said, his voice low and strained. “You’re killin’ me here.”

“Good,” you shot back, leaning in close enough that your lips brushed his as you spoke. “Then stop holding back.”

For a second, he didn’t move, his knuckles going white from the tension in his grip. Then, with a growl that vibrated through his chest, Logan released your wrists and let you yank his shirt over his head. The fabric barely hit the floor before his hands were on you again, sliding under your top to feel the softness of your skin. His touch was rough, desperate, like he’d been holding himself back for far too long.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his gaze locking onto yours. His eyes were dark, hungry, but there was a flicker of hesitation there, too.

You answered by pulling your shirt off and tossing it aside, leaving yourself bare before him. His breath hitched, and his hands froze for a moment before sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. The touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you let out a soft gasp, your hips pressing down against him.

“Fuck, princess,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “You’re gonna drive me insane.”

“Good,” you repeated, your hands moving to the waistband of his jeans. “Because I’m not stopping until I get what I want.”

Logan groaned, his head falling back against the couch as you unbuttoned his jeans and dragged the zipper down. His hips lifted slightly to help you, and you pushed the denim down just enough to free him. The sight of him made your breath catch; he was thick, hard, and already leaking at the tip. You swallowed hard, your excitement and nerves mingling as you wrapped your fingers around him.

“Doll,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Don’t… fuck, don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing,” you said, shifting so you could line him up with your entrance. You paused, looking up at him one last time. “I want you, Logan. All of you.”

His jaw tightened, and he let out a shaky breath. “Just the tip,” he muttered, as if trying to convince himself. “We’ll stop if it’s too much.”

You nodded, your hands braced on his shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. The stretch was intense, bordering on overwhelming, but the pleasure that came with it was undeniable. Logan’s hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave marks, and his head tipped back as a low, guttural groan escaped him.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he hissed. “You’re so… tight. Fuck.”

You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as you adjusted to the intrusion. “Logan…”

“You okay?” he asked, his voice strained. His hands flexed on your hips, like he was fighting the urge to move.

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… give me a second.”

He nodded, his chest heaving as he tried to keep still. But as the initial sting faded and the pleasure began to build, you couldn’t help but start to move. You lifted yourself up slightly before sinking back down, and the friction sent a wave of heat through your body.

“Fuck,” Logan groaned, his hands guiding your movements as you began to pick up the pace. “Doll, you… you feel too good. I—fuck.”

Your response was a breathy moan, your head tipping back as you rode him. The way he filled you, stretched you, was almost too much, but you didn’t want to stop. You couldn’t. Not when it felt this good.

"Logan," you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "Please… I need… more."

Logan clenched his jaw, his self-control unraveling as your breathy voice and soft pleas pushed him further. He shifted beneath you, planting his feet more firmly on the floor, and wrapped one arm around your waist, anchoring you to him. His other hand slid up to cradle the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted your head so he could press his lips to your temple.

"You don’t know what you’re asking for, princess," he muttered, his voice rough, low, and dangerously close to a growl. But even as he spoke, he rolled his hips up into you, just enough to pull a choked gasp from your lips.

"I do," you whispered, your forehead resting against his shoulder. Your nails scraped lightly down his arms, and you moved your hips again, meeting his shallow thrust. "Please… I… I can take it."

Logan swore under his breath, his grip on your waist tightening. "You’re gonna regret beggin' like that," he warned, but the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips betrayed his own amusement at your desperation.

He thrust up into you harder, and the sharp cry that escaped you sent a shiver down his spine. Your body clenched around him, the slick heat driving him mad. The way you buried your face in the crook of his neck, panting and babbling softly, only added to his torment.

"Logan," you whimpered, your voice muffled against his skin. "Feels s’good… oh… ohhh… please…"

"Look at you," Logan said, his voice laced with a teasing edge. He gripped your hips tighter, guiding you as you started to move more erratically. "Beggin' me to fuck you, and now you can’t even talk straight."

Your only response was a breathy whine, your body trembling as you moved against him. Logan’s smirk grew as he thrust up into you again, harder this time, making you cry out. Your hands fisted in his hair, your nails dragging along his scalp as your head tipped back.

"Oh… ohhh Logan," you babbled, the sound broken and desperate. "Please… don’t stop… more… more."

Logan’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle, but his movements never faltered. He braced his feet against the floor and began to move, his hips snapping up into yours in a steady rhythm that had you gasping and moaning uncontrollably.

"Thought you wanted me to take it slow," he teased, his voice a mix of amusement and desire. "Now look at you, ridin' me like you can’t get enough."

Your response was incoherent, a string of soft cries and gasps as you clung to him. Your head fell forward onto his shoulder again, your breath hot against his neck as you mumbled, "So good… so good… ohhh… Logan…"

He groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as his hand slid down to grip your ass, pulling you down onto him harder with each thrust. "Yeah, that’s it, doll. Take it. You wanted this, didn’t you?"

"Y-yes," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Wanted… you… so much… oh… ohh…"

Logan growled, his hips bucking up into you more forcefully. Your cries grew louder, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to keep up with his relentless pace. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending lit up as he filled you over and over again.

"Fuck, you’re close," he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can feel it. You gonna come for me, princess?"

You nodded frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. "Y-yes… oh… Logan… I… I…"

He didn’t let you finish, his hand sliding up your back to pull you even closer as he drove into you harder. Your body tensed, your cries turning into broken sobs of pleasure as your climax crashed over you.

"That’s it," Logan murmured, his voice rough but tender. "Let go for me, doll. Let me feel you."

You came undone, your body trembling and your head falling against his shoulder as you sobbed his name. Logan groaned, his grip on you tightening as he fucked you through the aftershocks, each thrust pulling another shuddering moan from your lips.

"Too much," you whimpered, your voice muffled against his skin. "Logan… too much… can’t…"

But Logan didn’t stop. He slowed his movements slightly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back, but he kept going, his own release building as he pushed you past the edge.

"You’re fine," he said softly, his voice a deep rumble. "You can take it. You’re stronger than you think."

You whimpered, your body shivering as the overstimulation sent jolts of pleasure-pain through you. Logan pressed a kiss to your temple, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release.

"Almost there, doll," he muttered, his voice strained. "Just hold on a little longer."

You nodded weakly, your hands clutching at him as he thrust into you one last time, his body tensing as he spilled inside you. He groaned, his head falling back against the couch as he held you close, his breaths coming in harsh pants.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the room filled with the sound of your ragged breathing and the faint hum of the TV in the background. Logan’s hands ran up and down your back soothingly, his touch grounding you as you both came down from the high.

"You okay?" he asked after a while, his voice soft and laced with concern.

You nodded, your face still buried in his neck. "Yeah," you murmured, your voice hoarse. "More than okay."

Logan chuckled softly, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to your hair. "Good. Because you’re gonna be sore as hell tomorrow, princess."

You let out a breathless laugh, your body relaxing against him as a warm, contented silence settled over you both.

[sammyluvr]

✶ . ၄၃ . soft 'n sleepy — sam winchester

cw : gn!afab!reader, fluffy smut, consensual somnophilia, dry humping, finger sucking, praise, so super sweet sam, swearing, praise, aftercare, pet names (angel, honey, baby), unedited, 1.3K words. requested ! MDNI !!! 18+ ONLY

summary : it doesn't take you long to fall asleep after a long hunt. sam, however, can't seem to fall asleep or keep his hands dick to himself.

you're so pretty and soft every time you fall asleep in his arms. sam just loves it when you're sleepy, eyes bleary and fluttering closed, lips parting and little puffs of breath leaving your nose as he tucks you against his chest.

this hunt was draining, especially for you, and you fall asleep quickly now that it's over. sometimes, all he needs to follow right after you is your presence. having you close is so reassuring, comforting. but tonight, it’s not nightmares or guilt that he’s worried about disrupting his sleep. instead, it’s your closeness that keeps him awake.

your thighs against his, the little shift of your hips that pushes your ass right into his crotch. your soft, even breathing, and your limp fingers splayed across his wrist. he’s been aching for you, but hasn’t said a thing, knowing how tired you are.

and he’d feel guilty about the growing bulge in his pants as he thinks about your pretty chest under the loose fabric of your comfy shirt, the grey panties you fell asleep in, your bare thighs. but you’ve told him, most definitely more than once, that you like the idea of him getting off in bed with you while you’re asleep. you’d used the words “you can use me like that. it’s okay, i promise.” he replays the sound of your pretty voice saying it, sincere and flirty all at once, and he just gets harder. “i want it,” you’d said. you want him to use you like that.

so he really just can’t resist gently tugging you closer, pulling your ass flush against him, and wrapping his other arm around you to softly cup your chest over your shirt. he gives a roll of his hips into you and bites back a quiet groan. and with that, he’s a goner.

you had the sense to get a separate room from dean when arriving at the motel, so as sam gets needier and needier, slowly rocking his hips into you, he doesn’t bother silencing his quickening breath and soft moans. he only keeps his sounds quiet for your sake, though he’s sure you’ll wake eventually.

his hand slides down from your hips, under your shirt, past the sensitive skin of your lower belly, and right over your thinly clothed pussy. he can’t help it, he just loves to hold you there, his hand hot and heavy as he cups your pretty cunt. he groans softly at the feeling, pressing into you with both his hand and hips now.

you stir, just a bit, letting out a little huff of breath through your mouth that just makes him grind against your ass with more desperation. and when a sweet, gravelly moan leaves your lips, he can’t help but indulge himself. the hand that was so softly palming your chest moves upwards, fingertips brushing over your collarbone until he has a gentle grip on your chin. with your lips parted just enough, he’s able to push his finger past your teeth and into the warm wet of your mouth.

he feels your tongue instinctively push against the intrusion and you draw in a deep breath through your nose as you start to rouse. his other hand starts to rub soft circles against the fabric of your panties and despite how painfully hard and turned on he is, even the rocking of his hips against you is gentle, caring, and slow.

a quiet, throaty groan falls from his lips and right into your ear as he feels your lips wrap around his finger, followed by your sweet, sleepy suckling, signaling that you’ve woken and immediately accepted his filthy actions. with your mind still so foggy with sleep, you don’t seem to have much control over your body. your hips squirm tiredly, pushing back into him, and the way that you suck on his finger is unabashed and interrupts the stillness of the room with wet, sloppy sounds. in mere seconds, there’s saliva dripping down his fingers and past the corners of your mouth.

despite your wordless enthusiasm, and the way that his clothed dick pushing into the plush of your ass makes him practically whimper into your ear, sam pauses his desperate movements against you for just a moment.

“this okay, baby?” he whispers sweetly, gruffly because he’s holding back. one of your clumsy hands finds his wrist, wrapping around it in reassurance.

“mhmm,” you hum around his finger, too sleepy to do much else, but wanting him to know that this is more than okay.

“good,” he huffs out, his hips rolling against yours with more urgency now, voice thick with barely contained desperation. “you’re so good. so good for me, aren’t you, angel? so perfect and pretty, letting me– mmph, use ya while you’re still sleeping. always so– god, so fuckin’ good for me.”

his hand rubbing against your pussy, his fingertips pressing over your clit, are making you just as desperate as him, and the feeling of him pushing a second finger into your mouth only intensifies the pleasure. you suck on his fingers contentedly, and the both of you leak through your underwear enough for the other to feel it.

along with the quiet drip from the janky sink in the bathroom and rush of a shitty window air conditioning unit, the room fills with soft grunts and whines and moans, the rustle of overused blankets, sam’s praises, and your sweet suckling. sam cums first, soaking his boxers and the back of your panties. the sound of his broken moan in your ear and the insistence of his fingers over your covered clit sends you reeling in pleasure just moments after.

he lets you keep lapping at his fingers as you come down from it, knowing the feeling quiets your mind. he’s positive that you’d fall right back asleep with his fingers in your mouth if he didn’t insist on cleaning you up first. so even though it makes you whine tiredly, he slowly slips his fingers out and gently pulls you around to face him.

his reverent lips find your forehead first, then your own spit-slick mouth. he kisses you all chaste and lovely, as if to apologize for waking you, despite it being so good for you too. the kiss is enough to satisfy you after having his fingers pulled away from your eager mouth, so you snuggle up close to him, not resisting the pull of sleep as it tugs down your heavy eyelids.

“honey,” he murmurs into the skin of your forehead, “let me clean you up first, please. then you can sleep as long as you want, promise.” you just give him a sleepy hum, but he rolls with it, untangling himself from you. he strips himself of his dirtied boxers, quickly pulling on a new pair before he pulls the blankets away from your legs. 

he slips your own soaked underwear off, watching your face, barely lit from whatever light seeps in through the blinds of the window by the door. your eyes are barely open, just because you want to watch him, and a soft smile tugs at your lips from his ever present sweetness and care. his heart jumps at the sight, so he covers your bare legs back to avoid giving you goosebumps from the cold, and slips away for a moment. not before leaving a kiss to the skin of your calf.

just moments later, he crawls back into the bed with a warm, dampened washcloth to deal with all the stickiness and a spare shirt because he admittedly got the back of your sleep shirt wet too. he cleans the mess on your skin first, then urges you to sit up just a bit with gentle hands and a tone of voice he know you won’t be able to resist.

“arms up,” he mumbles as he pulls the shirt off for you, then replaces it with one of his own soft, worn t-shirts. then he tucks you back into his chest and under the blankets, fighting off the sleep that was previously evading him until he feels you fall asleep first. then he sleeps like a damn rock and is woken in the morning by your lips on his neck.

[cowboybeepboop]

What about a Tyler Owens x reader where Tyler loves the idea of getting the reader pregnant?

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reader 

Genre: smut, just smutty 

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: You’re Tyler’s fiancee and he has an insatiable desire for you. 

Warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex, p in v sex. 

a/n: This one is super short and sweet 😝 Hope y'all enjoy, as always send any requests my way! It can be for any character or fandom just let me know 🙏

You stir slightly in your sleep, feeling the warmth of Tyler's body pressed against yours, his steady breathing in your ear a comforting lullaby. His hand began to gently trace the curve of your waist, his fingertips sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. The early morning light painted soft hues on the bedroom walls, hinting at the promise of a new day. 

“Ty.. 5 more minutes,” you murmur, cuddling back against his chest. Tyler chuckled warmly, his hand tracing lazy circles on your waist while you cuddled against him in the early morning light. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, relishing the intimacy.

"Five minutes, huh? That's five minutes I could spend doing something a little more fun," he said, his voice gravelly with sleep. His fingers continued to explore your curves, a hint of mischief in his tone.

“Honey, please..” you whine softly, reaching to stop his wandering hand. Tyler chuckled again, his hand slowly coming to a stop under yours. He let out a mock sigh, feigning disappointment, but his tone remained playful.

"Alright, alright. But you're depriving me of some quality time with you," he said, gently pulling you closer against his chest. "I guess I can wait five more minutes...but don't blame me if I get a bit restless."

Tyler's breath hitched as he began to press against you, his hands moving to your waist as his hips gently rocked against you. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer against him as the heat between you grew.

"You make it so damn hard to wait," he whispered in your ear, his voice gruff with desire. His lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of kisses before nipping at your earlobe.

With a sleepy smile, you concede defeat to the siren call of Tyler's touch. You let out soft, needy moans as his erection insistently presses into your backside, the evidence of his desire unmistakable. Your eyes flutter open, no longer able to fall back asleep. 

The early morning light now seems brighter, charged with a new energy as you become fully aware of the passion building between you. You reach behind you, your hand finding his, and guide it slowly down the curve of your waist to the apex of your thighs. 

The fabric of your panties is already damp with anticipation, and you gasp quietly as his fingers graze over the sensitive fabric, the heat of his palm sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. His touch sends a thrill of excitement through you, and any remaining drowsiness is chased away by the growing ache of desire.

You feel his smirk against your neck, his breaths becoming more ragged as his fingertips glide over your skin. He takes the hint without hesitation, slipping his hand into your panties with a practiced ease that sends a shiver down your spine. The moment his finger grazes your clit, you let out a soft gasp, arching your back slightly to allow him better access. 

His touch is feather-light at first, teasing the sensitive bud in gentle circles that make you squirm with pleasure. His erection presses more insistently into your backside, and you can feel his excitement mirroring your own. Tyler's breath hitches in your ear, his body taut with restrained need, as he explores the soft folds of your sex with increasing pressure and intent.

The warmth of Tyler's finger on your clit is overwhelming, making it difficult to focus on anything but the delicious sensation. His hand moves in a steady rhythm, matching the increasing tempo of your breaths. The fabric of your underwear is the only barrier to the fullness you crave, and with a sudden surge of need, you slide it down your legs, feeling the cool air kiss your skin. 

Tyler seems to understand your silent plea, as his hand leaves your waist and reaches around to assist in the removal, his erection now pressing firmly against your exposed entrance. With a soft moan, you guide his hand away from your clit and towards your wetness, feeling the urgency in his touch as he eagerly takes the hint. 

His finger lingers for a brief moment before slipping inside you, the sensation making your eyes roll back in your head. The slickness of your arousal coats him, making it easy for him to glide in and out, the intimate connection sending waves of pleasure through your body. 

His cock, now free from his boxers, nudges against your wetness, and you arch your back, inviting him in. He wastes no time, aligning himself with your inviting heat and pushing forward, filling you in one slow, deliberate stroke. The feeling of him inside you is heavenly, and you let out a guttural moan as he starts to move, his finger never leaving the sensitive bud that's now swollen with desire. 

As Tyler's finger works its magic on your clit, his other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you back into him, his cock driving into you with a steady, powerful rhythm. "You're so wet, so tight," he whispers in your ear, his voice a mix of awe and hunger. 

His hips slam into yours deliberately, each thrust punctuating his words, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. You moan into the pillow, your body trembling with the force of his passion. His kisses graze your shoulders, tender and gentle, a stark contrast to the fierce possession of his hips. 

The combination of his tender touch and relentless pounding sends you spiraling closer to the edge of climax, the tension coiling tightly in your core. His breath is hot against your skin, his grip unyielding as he claims you in the early morning light, and you can't help but feel completely and utterly owned by this man who has woken you up with such fiery desire.

As the intensity of your shared passion reaches a crescendo, your pussy clenches tightly around Tyler's thick shaft, the muscles spasming with the imminent release of your orgasm. He groans, his grip on your waist tightening as he feels the walls of your sex contract around him. 

The sound of your moans and the slick wetness of your arousal coating him only drives him closer to the precipice of his own climax. Tyler's hips buck, his movements becoming erratic as he fights the urge to let go. With one final, deep thrust, he can't hold back anymore, and with a guttural growl, he fills you with his hot, pulsing seed. 

The sensation sends you over the edge, and your body convulses in pleasure, your orgasm crashing down upon you like a wave. You follow right after him, crying out as the most intense climax of your life wracks through your body, the aftershocks resonating deep within your core.

As the last tremors of your orgasm subside, you attempt to shift away from Tyler, the need to feel the weight of his cock inside you momentarily satisfied. But Tyler's arms tighten around your waist, refusing to let you move. 

"Not yet," he murmurs into your ear, his voice a hoarse whisper that sends shivers down your spine. "Stay right here." His grip is firm, yet gentle, as if he's afraid you might slip away from him if he doesn't hold on tight enough. You feel the warmth of his semen inside you, mingling with your own juices, creating a deliciously intimate bond that feels almost primal. 

His cock twitches, hardening inside you once again, reminding you of the power it holds over your body, and despite your earlier protests, a thrill of excitement rushes through you at the thought of him taking you again. 

You relax back into his embrace, allowing him to keep his length buried within you, feeling his heart pound in time with your own as you both catch your breath and bask in the afterglow of your shared climax.

Tyler runs his hand across your stomach, his touch gentle and possessive. "Y'know, babe," he says, his breath hot against your ear, "it's a damn hot thought, getting you pregnant. Imagining your belly swelling with our baby... It's something I can't quite shake."

He presses himself closer against you, his body fitting perfectly against yours, as if trying to claim you as his completely.

“Think so?” you murmur, feeling his hand over your belly, almost like he's imagining what it would feel like if you were swollen with his child. 

Tyler lets out a soft hum of agreement, his hand still lingering over your belly. "Yeah, I do," he says softly, his voice a low rumble. "It's a potent thought. Imagining us having a family together, creating a life together..."

He trails off, his touch becoming more deliberate as his hand caresses the expanse of your bare stomach, as if he were trying to picture it already. "The thought of you carrying my baby in here... Damn, babe. It does something to me."

“I can feel what it’s doing to you,” you tease, hips grinding back against his. With a smoldering look in his eyes, Tyler pulls you up onto all fours, your breath catching in your throat at the sudden change in position. 

He kisses the back of your neck before whispering in your ear, "You know, they say this position is pretty effective for baby-making." The mischief in his voice is clear, but there's also a seriousness that sends a shiver down your spine. His movements are deliberate and possessive, each stroke claiming you and the possibility of new life within you. 

You whimper with every thrust, the angle hitting you just right, and you know that he's lost in the fantasy as much as you are. The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the moans of passion as he takes you, his grip on your hips tightening with each movement. 

The idea of being bred by him in this raw, primal way is intoxicating, and you find yourself pushing back into him, eager for more. His breathing is heavy and labored in your ear, his hips pistoning into you with a fierce determination that matches the racing of your heart. 

The early morning light casts a warm glow across your bodies, making your skin look like it's been kissed by the sun, as Tyler continues to claim you in this intimate, life-altering dance of love and desire.

Tyler's deep, powerful strokes fill the room with a symphony of desire, your moans melding with his grunts of effort. His hand slides up from your hip to cup your breast, his thumb playing with your hardened nipple, sending electric jolts of pleasure through your body. 

As he continues to pound into you, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot with a precision that makes your toes curl, he leans forward to kiss the arch of your back, his breath hot and ragged in your ear. 

"I want to feel you come again," he whispers, his voice a dark promise that sends a shiver down your spine. His other hand slides down to find your clit, his thumb circling the sensitive nub with a pressure that matches the rhythm of his thrusts. 

The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, and you find yourself rocking back into him, urging him deeper, your body begging for release. His kisses become more insistent, moving from your shoulder blade to the small of your back, each one a declaration of his love and need for you. 

As Tyler's finger expertly teases your clit, you feel your body tense up, your pussy clenching around his thick cock. "Oh, god, Tyler," you moan, your voice shaking with the approaching climax. His movements become more ragged, his hips slapping against your ass as he nears his own release. 

His breath is erratic in your ear, his grip tightening on your waist as if he's trying to meld your bodies together. "Come for me, baby," he growls, his voice thick with desire. With a final, desperate thrust, his finger presses hard on your clit, and you shatter, your orgasm rushing through you like a storm. 

The sensation is so intense that you cry out, your muscles contracting around his cock as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. Tyler's own climax follows immediately, his hot seed filling you up as he groans in satisfaction. 

His body tenses, and then relaxes, his cock still pulsing inside you as the aftershocks of your shared ecstasy wash over both of you. For a moment, the world outside the bedroom ceases to exist, and it's just the two of you, connected in the most primal and intimate way possible.

Tyler collapses beside you, his chest heaving with exertion as he tries to catch his breath. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his embrace, his touch tender and possessive as he holds you close.

"Damn, that was intense," he says, his voice rough. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder, his lips gently caressing your skin. "The thought of you carrying my baby though... That's all I can think about now."

[dinogoofymutated]

I absolutely adore how you write Kurt,

Could you write something for Kurt being concerned for an overworked reader?

And or a reader that struggles with sleep?

SFW!Nightcrawler/GN! Reader The amount of comfort that this man gives me UGH! He's just so caring and sweet, but I worry about him :( He's been the therapist friend in basically every episode in 97' and he deserves some comfort too so I added basically the reverse version of these headcannons at the end as well! Sorry I didn't end up writing anything for sleep, I've written a fic with some sleep struggle themes here but I might end up writing some seperate headcannons for that later! TWs: Themes of burnout/exhaustion. Mentions of the Genosha attack and Remy's death/funeral, religious themes. As always, reader written while picturing Fem! But no pronouns mentioned. I'm doing my best with adding German dialect while Kurt speaks but I'm not super knowledgeable, so let me know if there's something I need to change!

Kurt makes it his absolute mission to make sure you're always taken care of. Food, emotional support, laundry, dishes, Hell, he'd give you the sun and stars if you needed them. He just cares about you so much, and he never wants you to feel like you're alone in this world.

This being said, when he feels that you're overworking yourself, he's not afraid to let you know.

When he first starts to notice it, He'll check in on you more often. He'll pull you into a hug and give you kisses and he'll only leave when you reassure him that you're perfectly fine.

If you're still overworking yourself after this, he will outright tell you that he loves you, but you need a break. You can't go on like this and he's concerned about you. He doesn't purposely give you the sad puppy eyes, but seriously, how could you think about saying no to that face?

He really likes to brush his hands through your hair when he's trying to help you relax. He'll move your head into his lap on the couch and hum you softly to sleep. He might take you to bed, but he won't wake you up unless he absolutely has to. He won't go as far as to turn off your alarms, but he just wants you to rest.

However, if you know you're overworking yourself but still refuse to let yourself stop, or take a break, he's going to be a little more "aggressive".

    Your computer screen is giving you a migraine, you feel like you want to tear your brain out of your head, and plainly? You just can’t sit still. You had been in this spot for about six hours straight. The last time you actually got up was to eat dinner, and even then you had only relaxed for what, thirty minutes? You can’t really remember.

    You sigh deeply, leaning back in your chair as you massage your temples. Working for the budding country of Genosha was certainly not for the weak. You needed to have this paperwork finished and faxed before the end of the week so that talks of Genosha entering the U.N. could continue. It was such a hefty amount, but it was necessary. Everyone else had done their part, and all you had to do was make corrections, edit, and make sure everything was in top shape. You’d been working on it for about three days straight, and with the finish line in sight, you didn’t want to stop now. 

    Oh, but your head hurts so bad, and you feel like you're starving. You look from your computer to your copy machine and the huge stack of mostly finished paperwork on your desk. You just want it to be over with, you decide it’s best if you just push through.

    “You haven’t moved from that spot since lunch,” You hear Kurt state. He comes around the side of your chair to brush some stray locks away from your forehead, and you do your best to give him a smile, although it’s obvious the expression is pained.

    “I didn’t hear you come in.” Your voice comes out a little gravelly from being silent most of the day. Kurt’s hands begin to gather your hair and caress the back of your neck lovingly. His hands feel good, grounding. You close your eyes to appreciate the feeling and miss the sight of Kurt’s frown.

    “Let’s get you to bed, Liebchen. I can tell your head hurts.” Kurt’s tone is gentle, although displeased, and it makes you feel guilty when you shake your head and pull away, leaning forward as you restack the paperwork on your desk.

    “I can’t. I’m almost done with this whole U.N. thing and the sooner it’s over, the better.” You mumble stubbornly. Kurt shakes his head at you, pulling your rolling chair away from the desk before you can get your hands on something else. You don’t even have the energy to express your shock as Kurt takes the papers out of your hands, using the table to straighten them before placing them in their proper place. He tuts at you as he does so, and continues to save your files and power down the computer despite your protests.

    “My apologies, love, but I won’t let you rot in this room for another moment. I understand how important this work is to you. Giving Genosia a voice that the world can hear is a very noble cause, and yet it is still a cause that can wait till tomorrow, Ja?” You open your mouth to attempt to protest again, but your head hurts so bad, and you are so tired. Kurt takes your hands to help you out of your chair, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pulls you into a gentle hug.

    “Okay. But-” You don’t finish your sentence before Kurt is tucking your face into his shoulder, sparing you the view as he Bamfs you away. When he lets you go, you’re standing in your bedroom. You’re thankful that he spared you the sights, knowing that it would have just made your head worse- but it didn’t change the fact that you hadn’t been remotely done in the office.

    “-I still need to lock up, Kurt.” You start to say, but he’s gone in a puff of smoke before you can even finish the sentence. When he makes it back a few minutes later, Kurt sends you a cheeky smile, lifting his tail to show you the keys he must’ve snagged from your pocket earlier. 

    “Did you-”

    “Lock the file cabinet? Yes. And I turned off your lamp, and closed the curtains before I locked the door.” Kurt kisses your temple as he sits you down on the bed, beginning to take your shoes off. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you taken care of.” You feel like your heart might explode with the overwhelming fondness you’re feeling right now. When he’s done with your shoes, he carefully helps you undress and change into pajamas, something he knows you struggled with when you were as exhausted as you are now. He makes sure to tuck you into bed before he himself goes to change. It doesn’t matter how much pain you felt at this point, when he crawled into bed you couldn’t stop yourself from curling up close to him, pressing tired kisses to whatever part of him you could reach. Kurt simply chuckles, pulling you into an embrace as he whispers sweet encouragements for you to sleep.

    “Kurt?”

    “Yes, Meine Liebe?”

    “ ‘Think you could Marry me?”

Now just because Kurt will do everything in his power to keep you from reaching the point of burnout, doesn't mean that he himself will stop from reaching that point.

Kurt is a genuinely good person, right to the core. He likes helping people, he likes to care for others, but he doesn't always ask for help when he needs it. It's not that he doesn't have emotional intelligence for his own feelings, he just tends to soothe himself by assisting others. Even then, to an extent, that's not healthy coping. There is only so much someone can carry alone.

After the attack on Genosha, there was a lot of work that had to be done- and Kurt, being a familiar and dependable face in the many religious communities, was needed constantly in a tumultuous time when many turned to religion.

It's been a struggle for the two of you, much of your time together being cut short in one way or another, and the longer you spent away, the more worried you became.

It all came to a head after Remy's funeral.

    Remy’s funeral was… Rough. To say the least. No one was coping very well, especially not Jubilee. You had walked out to the cars with the group after the last of the dirt had been laid, making sure to give her a tight hug. The X-men were the only real family she had ever had, and now she had lost a brother. You had let her sob for a moment, listening to her cries and the sounds of doors, opening and closing. 

    When everyone had loaded up and was ready to head out, you noticed that Kurt wasn’t there. You told everyone that you would catch up. You had a feeling you knew where he would be.

    You find Kurt in an empty church. He’d shed his outermost robes at some point, and was sitting silently on a pew. His eyes are closed and his hands folded, praying. You don’t disturb him as you sit down, simply reaching a hand out and placing it on his knee, squeezing it to let him know you were there. When he finishes, he places his hand over your own, opening his eyes as he looks down. His tears are flowing freely, and he leans into your touch when you wipe them from his cheeks.

    “I’ve been told that there is strength in a man that freely mourns, but… It’s silly. I can’t help but wish that I was stronger.” Kurt’s almost whispering as he speaks. You feel a lump form in your throat, your stinging eyes welling with tears for the countless time today. It hurts so unbelievably to see someone you love hurting so much, knowing that there is so little that you can do to make the pain go away, even if the loss is shared.

    “It’s not silly. I think that a lot of people feel the same- especially right now.” You say. You take hold of his left hand, tracing the cool metal band on his finger. You compare it to the one you wear, and find yourself thankful that the hand that bears his is still warm. You think of Rogue and Remy. The life they could’ve had together, if only they had been given more time. 

    You lean your head on Kurt’s shoulder, and he rests his head on top of your own. 

    “You don’t have to carry it alone.” You whisper eventually. Kurt says nothing, lacing his fingers between yours. “I know we haven't had a lot of time together lately, but as long as I’ve known you, you’ve carried so much on your shoulders- but you don’t have to do it alone. That’s what I’m here for, remember?” Kurt laughs lightly at your words, squeezing your left hand before lifting it to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

    “You are a gift that I’m not entirely sure I deserve, my love,” Kurt says. You scoff at him, frowning now as you look up to meet his eyes.

    “Lying is a sin, Kurt.” You say playfully. His smile is blinding, and you gasp as Kurt Wagner of all people rolls his eyes at you. 

    “Even if it was a lie, which it isn’t, as long as I have you near, Schatz, Heaven will be in reach.”

[phosphoracat]

The Love You Want

cw: none for now || mistrust, johnny being a flirt, ghost lowkey setting this up knowing the consequences, birthday trope

She hates when he leaves.

Ghost had been deployed for months before being allowed to return, and a mere two days later, he was called back to service. All Ghost had told her was “a while” when she'd asked how long he'd be gone this time; every time Ghost was deployed, they argued. She couldn't help herself- he was always gone for so long and it always hurt her, not because he was leaving due to his job, but because she'd be alone once more.

Previously, she'd told Ghost it was fine that he was deployed, that he'd be gone for extended periods of time, but over time it really started to bother her. Thus, leading to the current situation.

A knock sounded on the door of their apartment, and peeping through the hole, she saw a man standing there with flowers, chocolates, and a ridiculous mohawk. She debated on leaving him there and sneaking away from the door quietly, but her phone vibrated in her pocket, and a quick check proved it was Ghost.

‘Happy birthday, love’

She reluctantly unlocked the deadbolts and the extra locks on the door before slowly opening it, peering at the other man, on guard. “Can I help you?” she asked softly, fingers curling around the pepper spray hanging behind the door for situations such as these.

“Aye, lass,” came his deep, gravelly voice, as if he growled the words. “Ghost sent me. Said ya get lonely, and wanted to give ya a present for yer birthday.”

She narrowed her eyes a little, obviously not trusting this man. “I don't know who Ghost is,” she replied with practiced precision, well-trained by Ghost within the first few months of their relationship to lie when someone mentioned him or asked for him.

The man just huffed a laugh, nervous, shifting on his feet. “O'course ya do. Big scary bastard in the special forces. Simon Riley. Spooky fucker that wears a mask.”

Just then, before she could proceed to lie further, her phone started vibrating like crazy. Keeping an eye on the man at the door, she checked her phone- Ghost, naturally.

‘Let him in, dove’

‘It's just Johnny’

‘I sent him’

‘Baby, let him in, it's alright’

She heaved a sigh before pocketing her phone and shutting the door to fully unlock it, the chain removed from its slot, and reopening the door to ‘Johnny’. “Come in,” she sighed, placing her full trust in Ghost and turning her back to the Scottish man to start making herself and him a cup of coffee.

She can hear Johnny moving behind her, hyper-vigilant to his every move, tracking the sounds of his footsteps and even the way he breathed. Ghost had instilled this kind of panic, this kind of mistrust in her early on into their relationship, reinforcing it over the past few years. Hell, he praised her for it.

She listened as Johnny set the flowers on the kitchen counter behind her, as he set the chocolates beside it… and another item that she had no idea he even had. She only turned when coffee was in both mugs, making hers the way she liked it, offering it to Johnny black.

“So, bonnie… Ghost has a gift for you.”

“My name isn't Bonnie,” she grumbled, misunderstanding Johnny as she was a silly little American girl. She'd never even met someone from Scotland before.

Johnny only snickered and grinned, stepping aside to reveal the beautiful lilies on the counter, the petals a mix of a soft yellow, and yellow mixed with pink. Her absolute, literal favorite flowers. Either Johnny was a serial killer who was super lucky, or Ghost really did send him. She naturally gravitated closer to the flowers, hesitant, cautious, eyeing Johnny from the corner of her eye as her fingers brushed the stems, the soft petals.

She murmured a soft thanks to him as she turned to fetch a vase from one of the cabinets, rinsing out the dust, adding lukewarm water to the vase and mixing in the plant food that came with the pretty- beautiful- flowers. She didn't get flowers often, as they died quickly and Ghost was more of a material man, but she still absolutely adored getting flowers.

Turning with the vase in hand, she gingerly settled the flowers into it and set it in the middle of the dining table, looking extremely pleased.

“You've got more, lass,” Johnny gently reminded her, and she turned to be met with an honest-to-God box of her favorite chocolates, and a wrapped mystery gift. She furrowed her eyebrows a little, assessing the wrapped gift, running through whatever it could be. It was as long as her arm, and about as thick as it, too. It was quite big… big enough to be a bomb. Well, maybe not that extreme; Ghost did say he sent Johnny, so surely he must trust this man enough to not destroy her and their apartment.

Cautiously, like a stray dog being met with fresh food from a stranger, she began to open the gift. She was careful with the wrapping, as if it'd blow up if she went any quicker or less careless, and after a moment, the gift was revealed.

A really, really nice monitor, that came in the box with a pretty pink keyboard and mouse, and a… oh my God, a mini PC! Her lips parted in sheer surprise, letting her guard down slightly in glee and shock. Johnny simply grinned, as Ghost had told him why he was getting this specific thing for her.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, excitement at the levels of a kid on Christmas, but it was June. “Thank you, Johnny, thank you, holy fuck!” She grinned right back at him, her carefully constructed walls starting to crumble. She fished out her phone to text Ghost, thanking him profusely, to which he responded with a heart.

‘i'm giving you the sloppiest toppy when you come home for this’

All Ghost responded to that with was a thumbs up, which made her huff a laugh at how ancient he must be.

Johnny helped her set up the mini PC as well as the monitor, even installing Steam for her before awkwardly standing there as she immediately busies herself with downloading and buying games to play.

“Well, lass, I’ll leave you to it,” Johnny says after a minute, offering her a smile. “But before I go… here. Happy birthday, bonnie.”

She turns, confused, as Johnny sets a tiny wrapped box in her palm, carefully unwrapping it to find a beautiful bracelet. It had butterfly charms on it in pastel, Easter colors, which so happened to be her favorite. “How did you…?” she asked softly, in awe of the beautiful jewelry.

“Have a little birdie in my corner,” he teased, but it was true; she figures Ghost told him everything she likes to properly get her gifts, or to help ease her anxiety and fear of a stranger.

She doesn't think- which would get her killed if Johnny was a worse man than he is- before she gently wraps her arms around his waist in a brief, soft hug. Her perfume filled Johnny's nose, sticking to his shirt, and he'd immediately fall in love if this wasn't his best friend's girlfriend.

“Thank you, Johnny,” she murmured, immediately working on putting on the bracelet and failing. Johnny stepped in, deft fingers expertly clipping the bracelet onto her wrist, before pulling away.

“Aye, looks right bonnie on you,” he murmured, still in her space. Their faces were somewhat close, his eyes drifting from hers to her lips, then back to her eyes immediately as if he'd spook her. He did.

She took a little step back, flustered, frustrated with herself. So Ghost was gone for a month and she immediately gets hot and bothered around another man? She hates herself.

“I oughta be goin’, lass,” Johnny expertly suggested, picking up on her feelings and that he'd probably overstayed his purpose of being here. “It was nice to meet ya. I'm sure I'll be seein’ ya.” With a two-fingered salute, Johnny let himself out of the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

She scrambled to turn all of the deadbolts and locks on the door, safe once more… but not from her thoughts.

All she could think about was how guilty and angry she was, that she seriously considered kissing Johnny right then. How lonely was she that it was even an option in her head? Ghost would surely kill her. God, Ghost. Does this count as cheating, even if she didn't do anything? She was spiralling. God, she hates herself.

banners by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

[suhsweet]

the compression shirt conundrum ⟡ kmg

wc: 1017 | pair: bf!mingyu x gn!reader | genre: fluff, slight cringe maybe, suggestive | tags: grey sweatpants and compression shirt, some swearing, reader becomes a zombie for mingyu pp, giggly!mingyu, just teeth rotting cuteness, reader is significantly smaller, mingyu is called a giant, pet names: honey, baby, babe, angel

summary: when mingyu comes home wearing a compression shirt and sweatpants, you no longer have any thoughts in your brain and become a zombie for him

authors note: the day we see mingyu in a compression shirt, god help us all… this is unedited, might be trash lmk

It was a quiet night in. You had a movie on, your place was clean, dishes washed, and your super hot boyfriend was on his way home any minute now with takeaway for dinner.

Mingyu had texted you that he was craving army stew and asked if you wanted anything from your go to restaurant. Sessions at the gym often caused him to develop a massive appetite afterwards.

“Honeyyy, I’m hommeee,” Mingyu’s rang.

“Hey baby— Oh. My. God.“

Your boyfriend looked at you confused. From where he stood, you were gaping at him, and somehow melting into the couch? He swapped his gym shoes for his house slippers and attentatively approached you.

“What’s… What’s going on? I brought food.”

“Who needs food when I’ve got a Mingyu buffet.” Your eyes raked up and down your boyfriend countless times. After such a smooth sailing night, you finally encountered your first problem.

Mingyu was wearing grey sweatpants.

And a black compression shirt.

A while back you told him that you wanted to see him in this combination. You knew he’d be hot as hell, however this was better than you ever expected.

It was just a plain, solid colored long sleeved shirt that was skintight. Every valley and ridge of muscles were clearly defined. You could feel your mouth water.

“Woah, woah, woah! I’ve got food here!” Mingyu whined as you rushed up to him while greedily running your fingers all over his body. You had half the mind to smash your face inbetween his pectorals.

Mingyu escaped your clutches as he headed straight to the kitchen, the hunger in his stomach making itself more apparent by the minute. He was about to pass out from starvation. His Hoshi-hyung really put him and the boys to work.

You were right behind him, following him around the kitchen as he went to plate up the food for the two of you. Your gaze never left his body. Was hypnosis by Underarmour clothing a thing? You were about to climb this man like a tree.

“B-b-baby?” He stuttered, looking at you with concern. You looked like a zombie.

You appeared to be a perfectly alive and healthy human. However, Mingyu observed your raised arms, reaching for him; and noted that you didn’t appear to have any thoughts in your head. All that was needed left was for you to moan ‘brains’ repeatedly.

“Must… Suck dick,” you said in a deep gravelly tone, putting on your best zombie impression. “Must… Suck dick.”

Mingyu let out a squawk of laughter as he backed away from you. His ears bloomed red. His toothy grin almost had you breaking character, but no! You were dedicated.

“I’m flattered that you think I look good, but an ‘omigosh babe, you look really hot’ would be just fine. This is… Wild.” Mingyu was slowly exiting the kitchen, and you were following him with slow steps.

He didn’t expect the clothes to have this much of an effect on you.

Was this what it was like to be you when you wore lingerie?

“No thought in brain, only Mingyu. Mingyuuu,” you chanted.

Mingyu managed to dodge a swipe you made at him. “Who are you? Where’s my angel gone? Give her back to me!”

“Right here, just give me them babies,” you replied with your zombie voice. Mingyu giggled.

He took a step backwards, and then another. You copied him but at a slower pace. With a final step backwards, Mingyu spun on his heel and dashed around the corner and into the hallway.

He dived into one of the rooms before you could even take another step. He had disappeared in an instant.

You wanted to laugh. With how small your apartment was, it was a proven fact that it would be impossible for him to successfully hide.

You ‘became’ your human self again and strolled towards the general direction your lover ran.

“Oh Mingyu… Come out, come out, wherever you are…”

Mingyu cupped his face with his hands, reducing any chances of you hearing him breathe. He couldn’t laugh, but you made him giddy like a child. He was a grown man playing and seek after all.

All that could be heard in the house was the movie that was still playing on the TV, and the light scuffs of your house slippers against the floor.

You finally reached the bedroom you shared with Mingyu at the end of the hallway. Little did you know, he was hiding behind the door. Not hiding, but ready to attack.

You pouted, looking around. “Baby? I’m not a zombie anymore. Just horny.”

As soon as you made it all the way into the room, the door slammed behind you. Your breath was stolen when a giant shadow grabbed you and pulled you onto the bed.

You found yourself on your back, caged in by Mingyu. He had a hand on either side of your head on the mattress, and a knee on the edge of it between your legs.

“It’s just a pair of pants and a shirt,” Mingyu murmured as he bent his head to kiss your cheek.

His nose traced patterns on your face, heading down towards your neck to take in your familiar scent. He loved when you wore this fragrance.

“Just a pair of pants and a shirt?!” You parroted in offence. You threw your arms around his neck. “It is more than that. It is the masculine version of lacey lingerie! It is the sexiest, sluttiest outfit you could put on. You look sexy as fuck!”

Mingyu blushed at your words with a very, very shy smile on his face. He knew that he was attractive, but to have you enthusiastically praise his appearance made him proud of the effort he put in at the gym. Your opinion of him mattered most.

He kissed your head. “Thank you baby.”

“Kim Mingyu, if you don’t lay on this bed and let me worship your body I swear on your dog’s life…”

“Not if I worship you first. Who told you these fluffy shorts are my weakness?”

[ddejavvu]

Hello Mei!! I had an idea for Eddie and Venom where reader cooks for Eddie one night, something nice, much different from what they normally eat. Venom obviously doesn’t like regular food but Eddie makes him compliment it and eat it anyway <3 I hope this strikes inspiration my love

"I hope you like it," You peer worriedly at Eddie, who's staring at the artfully-decorated plate like it's from another planet, "I know it looks a little rough but bear with me."

"Rough?" Eddie blinks up at you, "Babe, this looks like it's in a different tax bracket than I am."

"You are poor." Venom supplies helpfully, "Are you the lowest one?"

"Pretty damn close," Eddie nods, no longer phased by the symbiote's brashness, "This is lobster, you said?"

"And gritz- uh, gritz with cheese and lemon in them, and there's aioli for the lobster in the little cup there."

Venom begins retracting into Eddie's shoulder but the man's hand shoots up to grab the symbiote by the throat, "And Venom is super excited to eat it too, honey. This looks amazing, thank you."

"Eddie," Venom whispers, which is a new skill he's learned, but he clearly needs more practice, because the gravelly tone of his voice is loud enough for you to hear, "I only eat lobster when it is alive."

"You eat whatever she makes," Eddie hisses, much quieter than the symbiote, "Or so help me, asshole, I'll start buying you milk chocolate."

"Milk chocolate?" Venom roars, "Milk chocolate is for losers!"

"He loves lobster," Eddie turns to grin at you, ignoring the fuming symbiote only inches from his face, fangs bared and maw dripping, "Here, see? Eat, Venom, eat the lobster."

Eddie thrusts a forkful of your meal at Venom's face, and the symbiote's jagged teeth reluctantly part to let the fork pass through. Venom is not a quiet chewer, and when his animalistic grunts have subsided, you peer nervously at him, awaiting his review.

"It is not bad for a dead animal." Venom muses, "But I would like there to be blood next time."

"Yeah, she'll whip up some bloody aioli for you, bud," Eddie rolls his eyes, the gesture aimed at Venom but turned towards you so that you have to hide your giggle behind a dishtowel, "I'll eat any dead animal you give me, babe- uh, I'd just prefer 'em cooked first."

[princessconsuela120]

☁ HOLD ME CLOSE AND HOLD ME FAST ☁

— ☁

Summary: You fall asleep on Ominis' shoulder during class.

Warnings: Cursing, fluffy fluff fluffy

Author's Note: I love this so much. @clownfacepancakes120 this one's for you :}

— ☁

IT WAS A WELL KNOWN FACT IN HOGWARTS THAT HISTORY OF MAGIC CLASS WAS INCREDIBLY BORING. So boring in fact, that when you begun school, Professor Fog warned you to purchase a pillow in hogsmeade for said class. You didn’t understand him at first, but now as you sat in class, listening to the gravelly voice of professor bins as he floating through the aisles, your eyes straining to stay awake, you wished you had brought your pillow.

“You know you’re incredibly slick, darling.” Ominis said sarcastically, causing you to shoot your head up at the sound of his voice.

“Hmm?” You mumbled, already feeling your eyes grow heavy again.

“I can’t even see you and I can hear the way you're trying to stay up right now.”

He chuckled to himself, hearing uou scoff as you shifted in your seat.

“Am not. I’m just, focusing super hard.” You lied, your head already falling into his shoulder.

“Mhmm.” He teased, before you scoffed, not having the energy to fight back.

Ominis couldn’t help but smile at the feeling, loving everytime you’d lean your head against his shoulder. The two of you started dating in your 6th year, not noticing your feelings until after you defeated rankrok. Ominis realized the fear he felt when you fought came from love. You two had been dating ever since, after Sebastian forced the two of you to get together, insisting that Ominis wouldn’t stop mopping about his love for you.

So now here uou we’re, sat with your head against his shoulder, fast asleep as Professor Bins muttered none sense.

“Darling?” He whispered, turning to look at you when he heard your soft snores from beside him.“Silly girl, you’re drooling.” He chuckled, wiping your chin as you shifted against him. He placed a soft kiss against your head, jumping slightly when Sebastian laid against his other shoulder, a loud ground shaking snore erupting from his chest.

“Wake up you oaf! You’re snoring like a troll!” He yelled, shoving Sebastian, trying not to wake you in the process.

“Hey! Why does she get to sleep?!” Sebastian yelled, looked at Sebastian angrily as he threw a hand out at you.

“Because I love her.” He replied, rolling his eyes as if it were obvious.

“Unbelievable. You know, I used to be the one who got to sleep on your shoulder.” Sebastian grumbled, huffing angrily as he folded his arms.

“I never let you sleep on my shoulder.” He said, furrowing his eyebrows at Sebastian as the freckles boy pouted, slamming his chin in his palm on the table.

“Yeah well, what happens while you’re sleeping can’t hurt you.” He grumbled, making Ominis roll his eyes.

“You’re such a pillock Sebastian.” Ominis. teased, running his fingers gently through your hair.

“And you my friend, are incredibly whipped.” Sebastian said, patting Ominis’ shoulder, making him smile.

“I know.”

Ominis smiles down at you as you snuggle closer into his shoulder, hiding your face in his neck. Your soft snores filth is ears, a much better sound in his eyes than Professor Bins mumbling, as butterflies grew in his stomach at the warm feeling you radiated.

[hottpinkpenguin]

congrats on the followers!! and super excited for this event. am looking forward to see lots of good stuff! And i am also here to request! Can we maybe get some Nikolai smut with the prompt "Don't cover your face. I want to see you" 👉👈

A/n: has there ever been a more perfect specimen for smut fics? i think not. so, nikolai, thank you bb for being so perfectly FINE. here you go anon - hope you like it!! actually several of you requested nikolai smut, so this one's for all y'all, you're my people and i'm here for it.

18+ only!!!! MINORS DNI

Nikolai Lanstov X Fem!Reader Word Count: 2,342 Warnings: smut, absolutely no plot, unprotected sex, P in V, fingering, sprinkles of praise kink, creampie

(i'm sorry, i know i've already used this gif on another fic but srsly ppl wut else am i supposed to use for a nikolai smut fic?! this gif is unholy and i love it)

The knock at your bedchamber door was fast, urgent. Four sharp taps, rapid fire. You could hear his need in those knocks. 

You weren’t far from the door, pacing with a suffocating mix of desire, impatience, and nerves. It had been so long since you’d seen Nikolai, you wondered if the arrangement you two had fallen into the last time you’d lived here would still apply. But those knocks told you everything you needed to know. He remembered, and you did too. 

He was on you before the door closed behind him. His mouth crashed against yours, the familiar taste of his mouth awakening memories you’d tried so hard to suppress. His hands tangling in your hair, squeezing your cheek, ripping at the thin fabric of your nightgown. Desperate, hungry. Just the way you liked him. 

He pulled back from the kiss just long enough to look at you. His gaze roamed over you like wind, a feral smile lighting up his face. 

“Gods I’ve missed you.” His voice had grown deeper, so gravelly it sounded like a growl. That familiar heat sparked to life between your legs. 

You grabbed him, twisting your fingers in the hair at the base of his neck the way you knew he liked. You kissed him deeply, your tongue shamelessly diving into his mouth, devouring every inch of him you could taste. 

You broke the kiss, twisting his face away from you as you planted a line of kisses along his jawline, working your way back and down to the soft spot where his neck met his shoulder. You sucked, then nibbled there softly. His breath hitched in his throat, his head tipped back, eyes closed, giving himself over to you. 

Your hands made quick work of the buttons at the front of his jacket, and he finished the rest, throwing it towards the chair in the corner of your dimly lit bedchamber. Running the tip of your tongue up to his earlobe, he moaned, pulling his undershirt up and out of his trousers. You reluctantly pulled back from him to let the shirt slide up and over his head before it too was discarded along with his jacket. 

Your hands remembered the feel of his warm skin, the muscles of his back and chest flexing under your touch. You found his mouth again, his hands cupping your face. You let your hands travel freely, tracing your fingertips over his back, down the backs of his biceps, around the crease at his elbow, up his arm and over to his chest. You added pressure, leaving small white lines on his skin. He let out the smallest gasp at the sensation, his eyes rolling back in his head. You pressed your body forward against his, feeling the bulge of his cock pressing your stomach through his trousers. The heat at the apex of your legs roared, making you squeeze your thighs together, moisture beginning to build there.

“Missed me too, did you?” 

The handsome smirk and devil-may-care glitter in his eyes took your breath in. If he only knew…

You let one of your hands snake its way down the front of his torso, your fingernails leaving a trail like a map over his abs. He shivered slightly, his smirk deepening as his eyes drank you in. More, more, more, his gaze said.

You pressed your palm against his hard cock, gripping it through his trousers. “Why don’t you take these off and find out,” you murmured back. Nikolai’s eyes went wild at the sound of your voice. You bit at the edge of your lip, relishing the feel of his member in your hand, the way he shuddered at your touch reflexively. You added pressure to your palm and began stroking the length of his shaft over the rough wool of his riding trousers. 

“Saints,” he muttered, stumbling backwards on shaky legs to lean against the wall. It had been a long time for both of you, it would seem. A coil began to grow deep and low in your gut as you watched his face go slack at the feel of your hand on his cock, lost in ecstasy for a moment. 

He snapped to quickly, coming out of his reverie with a look of purpose. He brushed your hand away from his cock, catching both wrists in his hands and turning you to swap places. His movements were strong but controlled, firm pressure but no pain. You let him lead you, and he stopped only when you were squarely against the wall. 

“You haven’t lost your touch,” he murmured, leaning in for a quick kiss as he danced a finger along your jawline. “But I’ve waited too long for you to skip my favorite part.” 

You were practically panting at his words, feeling loose and halfway drunk on the sight, sound, feel, taste of him. And he knew it. 

Goosepimples ran up your spine as you felt his hands slip under the straps of your nightgown, guiding them back and over your shoulders. The thin gown fell to the floor, pooling around your ankles like water. 

Rough, calloused palms traveled all over you: your arms, throat, breasts, down your sides and over to your backside, which he gave an appreciative squeeze. Then forward, around the swell of your hips, down the front of your thighs, before snaking inward. You stepped one leg outward, beckoning him higher. His right hand turned, palm facing upward, until he found his mark. 

You gasped when his hand touched your pussy, warm and wet with anticipation already. You didn’t miss the self-satisfied smile he wore when he felt your readiness. His fingers spread your flesh apart and he began to work, starting with large, languid circles. It was torturously divine - too slow to do anything but tease you. You let your head fall back against the wood paneled wall behind you, your leg bending at the knee with a foot braced on the wall as you let yourself fall open to him. You bucked your hips forward, grinding down against your hand. 

Reading your cues, his circles grew smaller and more focused, zeroing in on that sensitive bundle at the very center of you. His fingers found it effortlessly, dancing over it like he were plucking the strings on a lute. You gasped, the coil tightening as your body tensed. 

“That’s it, my girl,” he cooed, stepping close to you, his breath warm as it fanned over your exposed neck. “Let me have you.” He bore down on whatever skin he could reach with his mouth - kissing and sucking and gently biting - drawing heavy, sighing moans from your throat. His fingers kept dancing over your clit, his pressure crescendoing and then retreating like ocean waves. You felt your bent leg begin to tremble slightly. 

At that signal, Nikolai’s fingers plunged into you commandingly. You gasped, your eyes widening as your muscles squeezed around him momentarily. 

“My beautiful, beautiful girl.” Two fingers - his middle two - began to pump, firm but gentle. Already slick with your wetness. 

One of your hands traveled up to cup your exposed breast, your nipple hard as a marble. Nikolai watched your hand as you rubbed your palm gently over the nipple, your eyelids falling shut as the sensations of your body took over your senses. 

“Nikolai, please,” you whimpered, grinding your hips against the rhythm of his hands, desperate for more. 

“Beg me again,” he commanded, letting his forehead connect with yours. 

“Please,” you moaned out, your free hand grabbing the wrist working on your pussy and driving it into you with the force you were craving. “Gods, please!” 

Normally Nikolai would tell you to use your words, to tell me what you want. But after so long apart, the intricate push-pull teasing you two were so comfortable with gave way to raw need. He obliged your request, his hand pumping in and out, his two fingers stroking the spot inside you could never reach while his thumb continued its assault on your clit. 

Your body was alight with burgeoning lust, every cell fluttering with a glittering energy. You felt your climax approaching fast and hard. Your moans turned louder into cries, the hand that had been working your breast now gripping the wall for support. Your other hand came up to tangle in your hair as you felt your orgasm crest. You turned, dragging some of your hair across your face just before you fell apart on his hand. 

“Don’t cover your face,” he growled, his free hand catching your chin with his thumb and dragging you to face him. “I want to see you.” 

You felt the cord snap at his words. You cried out his name, your face uncovered for him to see. Your pussy pulsated around his fingers, your legs shaking in time with your orgasm as you leaned back against the wall. Wetness ran down the inside of your thighs and over his hand, your mind fracturing into a thousand pieces, all of them saturated with him. 

“That’s it, my girl. That’s perfect.” You vaguely registered the praises falling out of his lips as his hand pumped you up, through, and down the other side of your ecstasy. 

You were still shaking, your senses barely rekindled when you felt the loss of Nikolai’s hand, followed swiftly by the feel of his palms gripping you under your seat. He lifted you from the hips, cradling you against him as your hands snaked around his neck. He carried you back away from the wall, turning and laying you down on your bed. 

He hovered over you at the edge of the bed, rushing the trousers down over his ankles. His cock sprang free, full and eager. You reached for it, but Nikolai had other plans. 

He ignored your grasping hand, stepping forward and lining himself up with your entrance only long enough to register your acknowledgement before he buried himself in you. His hips smacked against yours as you cried out his name. The feel of him stretching you, your pussy still throbbing from his hand, sent your awareness scattering again. 

You felt Nikolai’s hands press down into the mattress next to your head, framing your face as he leaned over you. He hesitated, catching your gaze with his cock completely embedded in you. 

“Let me have you,” he told you. His hazel eyes were bottomless to you, his words felt like a drug. 

“You already do, Nikolai,” you replied. “Now, take it.”

He leapt at your command, his hips pulling away from you and then brutally slamming back into you. His cock dragged against you, reactivating that dwindling orgasm with a new fire. You let your legs lift up to twine around his rear, adding your own movement to match his. He was grunting, his brows furrowed in a mix of pleasure and concentration as the wet sounds of slapping skin filled the room, punctuated by your cries and his deeper, guttural grunts. 

You tried to lift your head to watch him slide in and out of you, but he found your neck, gently but firmly pushing your head back to the bed. His hand stayed there, wrapped around the base of your throat with a possessive, dominating pressure, almost enough to press the air from your lungs but never enough to hurt. 

“Fuck, I’m close. Y/n, I’m close, I’m gonna cum.” 

You gripped his backside with your hands, pulling him into you deeper and harder with the final few thrusts he gave you. As he threw his head back, a long and loud primal grunt spilling from his mouth, you felt your own body’s desire snap a second time. He gasped as he felt your pussy squeezing around his pulsating cock, his thrusts scattered and not as forceful, but drawing out the pleasure you’d both been denied for so long. You screamed out his name, not caring who heard or what they thought or even if the sounds that you made actually sounded anything like Nikolai at all. He knew, and you knew - that was all that mattered. You fell off the edge of reason, twisting and writhing until you were turned inside out on a cloud of pleasure. Then you floated, hanging there, his warmth and the nearness of his body the only thing you’d swore you’d ever need.

You both settled back into your bodies slowly, the sounds of two sets of panting breaths drawing you down from the sky you’d fallen into.

He finally slid out of you, leaving you feeling woefully empty. You whimpered softly at the loss of him. He collapsed down onto the mattress next to you, the hand he’d left at your throat gently turning your face to his. You washed in the sight of him, the soft sheen of sweat covering his handsome face, his lips swollen and parted, his cheeks flushed. His hazel eyes danced like stars as he smiled at you. You smiled back, one of your hands finding his hair and swirling patterns against his scalp. He moaned, his eyes falling closed for a few minutes as the two of you relaxed in the relative silence. You knew it was only to give your bodies enough time to recover before revisiting the night’s earlier activities, and the thought of it made your stomach twirl. 

When Nikolai Lantsov opened his eyes, that mischievous glint you loved so much was blazing. You knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“So you did miss me?”

You gave him a playful slap, laughing as he rolled you into him, squeezing you into a bearhug against his bare chest. He buried his head in your mussed hair, inhaling deeply. 

“Actually,” you finally replied when you weren’t breathless from giggling, “I might need you to show me again exactly what I’ve been missing, all this time.” 

Nikolai gave you a wicked smile. “Happily, my girl. Happily.”

And so you let him show you - again and again, and again some more…

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Promises

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (18+)

Summary:Besties, I’m gonna be honest here, there’s no plot, it’s just ABSOLUTE filth.

Warnings:Smut, 18+, Doggy Style, Bucky is an ass-man, Dirty Talk, Size kink (kind of, if you squint), Breeding, squirting, fingering. If you want anything else tagged just shoot me a message!

Word Count:730

MASTERLIST

In Bucky’s mind there were fewer prettier sights than the one laid before his eyes right now. The sight of your exposed body laid stomach down on the mattress. The cooling touch of his metal hand slipped between your body and the bed, just resting on your soft stomach as he gently pulled your hips up, so that you were in the perfect position.

“That’s it, babygirl..want this pretty ass up for me..” his husky voice rings out.

With his other hand he reaches down, giving a few teasing strokes over the length of himself, before sliding the tip of his cock up and down the wet slit of your pussy a few times to coat himself in the wetness of your arousal, then slowly inching himself into your heat. 

Bucky had told you many times before how much he loved your thighs and ass. Always slyly slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans whenever you were out together, his fingertips squeezing a cheeky handful hidden behind the denim. Resting his head on the softness of your thighs whilst watching a movie with you after a long day. Yes, Bucky was a thigh and ass man, there was no doubt about that.

From his place behind you, he slowly rolls his hips into you a few times before he hears your sweet moans begging him to go faster.

“Buckyyy…please…” your voice whines into the mattress.

“What is it, Doll? Need you to tell me what you want. Be a big girl and use your words for me, sweet thing.” his deep voice teases as his hips continue their slow thrusts.

“F-faster..please..need you to go faster…” you huff out between breaths.

You suddenly feel the contrast of his metal and human fingertips squeezing into the soft flesh of your hips and his thrust pick up.

“Is this what you wanted, sweets? Wanted me to fuck you nice and hard? Fuck you like how a pretty thing like you deserves to be fucked.” His voice is deep and rumbling as the slapping sounds of skin on skin fill the room.

He’s deliciously thick, and every inch a super-soldier, and with the way his cock is bullying into you, he makes his point of reminding you of that fact.

“Fuckin’ hell, Doll…You’re so fuckin’ tight around me..” He grunts. “Swear this sweet cunt was just made for me” 

You’d slipped your own hand down your body, your fingers rubbing circles over your clit, to help bring yourself closer to orgasm.

His thrusts are getting sloppier as he loses himself to the pleasure he’s feeling.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, sweets…gonna fill up this pretty pussy…that’s what you want, isn’t it?” 

You’re incapable of forming words, with nothing but strained whines escaping your mouth.

“Yeah, you want me to fill you up, want me to blow my load deep in this pussy…” he punctuates his words with his thrusts, his heavy balls slapping against the back of your thighs.

“Please…I need it…want it so bad, baby please..” you sobbed.

He snapped his hips sharply into you, hitting that spot that had you seeing stars, and with the combined effort of your fingers harshly rubbing over your sensitive clit, that was what sent you over the edge. Your orgasm rushing over your body with a jolt, and your cunt pulsing with a wet gush.

“Look at that, princess…pretty little cunt fuckin’ squirting on my cock like that..so fuckin’ hot.” he said with a gravelly rumble, as he pulled out for a moment, taking his length is hand and slapping your pussy with the head of his cock.

Pushing back inside you he continues his thrusts, snapping his hips into you with reckless abandon.

“Gonna come sweets..” he sounds breathless and ragged, as he pushes in deep one final time before his hips still and he leans down to kiss his lips on your shoulder, filling you with the hot spurts of his cum. 

His breath shudders for a moment as he pull out of you, as he looks at his cum dripping from your freshly fucked cunt. He slides the fingers of his metal hand between your pussy, fingering his cum back into you.

“Can’t let this go to waste…Told you I was gonna fill you up..and I always make good on my promises.” he smirks.

[cat3ch1sm]

💚~ hi!! this is my first fic in so long, im so sorry for disappearing for almost two months ... idk I've been at a loss for motivation for a while. happy new years i guess😭. but it's a story based off of @a-hazbin-reader recent headcanons about alastor (first hazbin hotel writing!! exciting !!) i happened to come across it and immediately saw a fic idea finally. all credits to them and the person who requested the original writing (hope they see this too lololol) !!! also yes my anime writings will also return so yayy im officially back!!

heads up this is super long it's like 15 pages cause ya girl got a little carried away 😅 i hope you all enjoy and reqs are open for all!

🌲❦(๑˙❥˙๑)~ mentions of violence , abuse, bit of blood, alcohol, language, lewd language a little bit at the start, fem!reader

alastor x fem!reader

"Angel. Are you able to draw absolutely anything else?"

The aforementioned spider demon stared straight at Charlie with his brow arched and a shit-eating smirk on his lips. Beside his face he haughtily held up a sheet of paper with one of four hands, a drawing depicting nothing other than a giant penis.

"Nope." He popped the "p."

The hotel residents and employees, including Angel, Husk, Vaggie, Nifty, you, and Alastor were doing Charlie's usual scheduled feel-good activity. The devil's daughter had given out paper and pencils, gathered everyone in a circle and told everyone to draw something that made them happy. And of course Angel Dust, lewd as always, had spent a frankly concerning amount of time drawing the member currently on display on his paper.

Everyone just stared at the drawing in silence. Examining it while Angel continued to hold it up with not an ounce of shame on his face.

"Why is it... anatomically correct?" you finally questioned, tilting your head and squinting at the piece.

Vaggie, sitting beside her girlfriend, let out an exasperated groan, looking from the drawing to Angel with undisguised revulsion. "Angel Dust. First you drew pills, then you drew a liquor bottle, and for the last three goddamn turns we've given you, you've drawn a dick. Come on. Are you even trying-"

"Whadd'ya mean?" Angel asked innocently. "Charlie said to draw somethin' that makes me happy. Dicks make me happy. And as a worker here, you shouldn't be judgin' me," the porn star added smugly, making Vaggie let out an impatient growl.

Business as usual in the Hazbin Hotel.

"Well, I mean, you can't really say he didn't try," Husk deadpanned in a gravelly voice. "I mean, look at the vein-"

Ding dong!

"Oh, wow, hey, someone's at the door!" You'd never seen anyone move as fast as Charlie in that moment, and Vaggie was in close pursuit. In a split second, Nifty's tiny frame was flying after them both.

"Someone's at the door!" Nifty repeated in a high-pitched voice.

"Right. While they're distracted, I need a damn dick- fuck. Drink," Husk snapped, rising from his place on the floor. Angel immediately started laughing while Husk wasted no time lighting into him. "Shut up. You and your fucking anatomically correct dick got into my head," you could hear Husk snarl while Angel's taunting laughs never ceased as they headed off to the bar.

With those two gone, it was just you sitting in the circle, blinking. "Right," you murmured, standing up and dusting yourself off.

"Well, my dear? What did you draw?" came the oh-so-familiar drone of the Radio Demon's voice from the corner of the room. You couldn't help the smile that spread across your lips at the sound of it, and glanced up to see Alastor standing with his trusty mic stand, beckoning you to come closer. Of course, you obliged.

You scoffed a little, smile turned slightly sarcastic. "Well... I was going to draw you, but Angel suddenly became the Picasso of Penises and I didn't get around to it."

Alastor laughed good-naturedly, wrapping an arm around your waist and planting a gentle kiss on your head. "Ah, always the sentimental one, aren't you, my dear? Well, no matter. It's the thought that counts."

Your smile turned genuine again at his gesture and Alastor noticed. "There's that smile, sweetheart. Now, if you'd just keep it on your face at all times without fail, we could be quite the formidable pair."

You kissed your teeth with mock exasperation and lightly shoved Alastor away. "Oh, here you go again. And I thought we were having a moment. Alastor, my face just cannot stay like yours for that long-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Charlie came rushing back into the room, her sudden entrance startling you a little. She made her way up to you and Alastor. "Hey, um, Y/N? There's a woman at the door who says she's looking for you. She seems really upset."

Your face wrinkled in confusion. Someone looking for you? You weren't friends with anyone really outside the Hotel and those affiliated with it, so you had no clue who would be searching for you. You glanced at Charlie with a "What's going on?" look and with some reluctance pulled away from your boyfriend's grip to follow her.

As you neared the lobby, you heard a distressed-sounding voice in the door, and confusion growing you walked a little faster to the entrance. But before you could even register who the visitor was, she'd thrown her arms around you, fingernails digging painfully into your skin. But the stench of her familiar perfume wafting unwelcomed into your nose, into your mouth, smothering you and strangling you let you know the identity of this woman without even having to see her face.

You instantly stiffened, limbs suddenly like metal rods, not at all softening into her embrace. Your eyes went wide and you could feel your pulse speeding up.

"Mother?"

"My love! Oh, my precious girl!" she cried, pulling out of that suffocating hug for a moment to cup your cheeks in her cold hands, hands that no matter how gently they touched you their touch would always sting. She peered into your eyes with watery ones of her own, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I missed you so, my dear. This is where you've been hiding? I was so dreadfully worried!" Her eyes, always scrutinizing, ran up and down your figure in the way that made you want to tear the flesh from your bones.

"Oh, and I was worried you were starving somewhere. You were such a frail, skinny thing before on Earth. It's a great relief to see you've put some weight on your bones."

And the first stone was thrown.

"Mother." It was the only word you could seem to utter, fighting the urge to throw up, bile collecting in your throat. Her voice was like a slap to the face, and it was only your mother's grip that kept you from actually staggering backward. And how the others were just staring, awed, at the scene, Charlie's eyes sparkling with tears, Vaggie with a hand on her shoulder and a knowing smile, Angel and Husk watching contentedly from a distance, and Nifty clinging to Alastor who was smiling as usual. God, if you didn't vomit right fucking now, you'd be surprised. But you knew what they all saw in their clouded vision- a heartfelt reunion between mother and daughter. But really? It more closely resembled a predator at last capturing its prey.

You really couldn't hear what she was saying over the pounding in your head, but somehow you were in her arms again, and she was fawning and cooing over you like you were a child, showering you with kisses that burned like molten iron and rocking you back and forth. Always she loved to put on a show, loved being the center of attention.

It made you sick.

You managed to come out of your stupor long enough to shove your wailing mother away, unfazed by her crocodile tears. It was like waking up from a haze. She stumbled back slightly, and you backed away, your entire demeanor hardening. Your tone was flat when you spoke.

"What are you doing here?"

You apparently weren't doing that clean a job of masking your emotions, because the venom in your voice caught even you off guard. Your mother looked hurt- that act wasn't new to you, either- and your friends and partner surrounding you shot you disapproving and mildly disgusted looks that clearly wondered why you were being so cold to your own mother. You dropped your eyes to avoid the accusing stares, unable to slow your breathing and fighting the desire to lash out. Charlie looked bewildered and hurt, Angel Dust arched a brow, Husk appeared disapproving and Vaggie’s venomous expression said everything she wanted it to. How dare they look at you like you were the bad guy without knowing shit! She couldn't care less if you lived or died. She was here because she wanted something, and nothing more. Perhaps she heard about your role in the extermination of the Extermination and wanted a piece of the popularity you'd recently found yourself gaining. Or she came because she was probably destitute, the frivolous bitch, and wanted to suck up to either you or the powerful people you were now associated with. Whatever it was, you didn't care. You wanted her gone.

But it was clear she had no intention of leaving.

"All this time, and not one visit. And she never calls," your mother moaned in anguish, now addressing her new audience. "Perhaps I wouldn't have to track you down like a bloodhound if you would just come see your poor mother every once in a while." Her voice was overflowing with hurt and heartbreak you just could feel wasn't genuine. Before you knew it, she had broken down into sobs again, and you could only stand there stiffly, rage boiling, while the always empathetic Charlie moved to comfort the woman, rubbing her back soothingly while she sent Nifty off to get her tissues for her tears. The dirty look Vaggie shot you- "How cruel of you to do this to your innocent mother,” it said- sent heat rushing straight to your chest. Jesus fucking Christ, how could they fall for this shit? Your stomach twisted again, and this time you actually did nearly puke, suppressing a dry heave.

You did not pay any mind to your mother's display- you refused to give her the satisfaction. You turned in the opposite direction, arms folded, nails digging into your skin hard. You felt nothing seeing her cry but bitterness and icy detachment.

"I don't want to see you-"

"Well, now- who do we have here?"

Alastor appeared from the shadows with his sharp-toothed grin, glancing at you first and then your weeping mother. Before you could stifle it, a rush of hope surged through you- if anybody could get this infernal woman to leave, it would be Alastor. You turned towards him, hoping he would see how distressed you were- he was typically fairly perceptive when it came to you and your feelings. But alas, your mother caught his attention first, peering up at the Radio Demon standing over her with teary eyes and wet cheeks, a piteous expression on her face.

"The Radio Demon? Oh, well, a being like you mustn't worry about who I am. I'm just- a poor mother come to visit her daughter. But she... doesn't seem to want to see me." She sighed in a melancholy manner and slowly unburied her face from the tissue she'd been holding. "I suppose I will simply see myself out."

"Oh, nonsense. Y/N's mother, are you? I absolutely cannot allow you to remain on the streets. I insist that you stay." Alastor extended a hand out to your mother, his maniacal smile gone suspiciously gentle. It was disgustingly familiar; it was the smile he reserved normally just for you. "As... abrasive as your daughter may seem at the moment"- you felt him cast a look over at your back turned to him- "I'm sure she wouldn't want you suffering like this. Please, you're welcome to remain here."

You wanted to cry when he said this- could he really not see who this woman was? Did he really think you were just being testy? And when your mother took his hand and held it for much too long, you could take it no longer. And as everyone crowded your mother, showering her with welcomes and greetings and kindness, you pushed past everybody and walked straight out of the hotel doors, the last thing you saw being the tauntingly smug smirk on your mother's face before you slammed the doors behind you.

When you returned to the hotel, drunk, night had fallen. You hadn't seen any of your hotel mates since you'd left, and as far as you knew nobody went after you after your abrupt exit. Who the hell cared about that now, though? You'd talk to them about your deranged mother when you got inside, without her presence. Perhaps Alastor had just been being nice when he told her she could stay, and they hadn't actually been blind to why you were acting the way you were. Maybe they were just being supportive of a guest when they saw you acting out of the ordinary, knowing you usually were never snappy and stony, and still took her side. Maybe so.

You wished you hadn't had so much to drink.The pounding in your head was worse than when your mother had shown up earlier and your eyelids felt heavy. You had tripped a minimum of ten times on the way back and almost let two thugs take you in their car with them. You hated being drunk, but your mother you hated more.

With unsteady hands you pushed open the doors of the Hazbin Hotel, vision blurring a little. You weren't amazing with alcohol, and again, being drunk wasn't your favorite thing. But the moment you entered, you realized you weren't nearly drunk enough.

In the lobby sat your boyfriend, Alastor, enjoying a cup of tea with none other than your mother. The two were laughing together, which incensed you enough, but what made you wish you'd just blacked out at that bar was when you caught sight of your mother's hand on top of Alastor's as they shared a laugh over God knows what.

It didn't take long for the two to notice you in the doorway, a turbulent, unreadable expression on your face, standing as still as a statue as you took in the scene. Your mother turned to you and smiled, waving the hand with the cup of tea in it.

"Why, darling, we hadn't realized you left! Alastor is quite a charming gentleman. We were just having a moment." She slipped her hand from on top of his with a slightly mischievous smile.

Oh, she knew exactly what she was doing. You had no fucking clue how, but somehow your mother had discovered that Alastor and you were an item. She wasn't sitting here with anyone else but Alastor, drinking tea with him, laughing with him, holding his hand. And she was wearing makeup she hadn’t had on when she’d first come in the hotel- red painted on her lips, blush dotted on her cheeks and glitter on her eyelids in a display clearly meant to make an impression on Alastor and Alastor alone. It wouldn’t be the first time she'd gone after one of your partners, but it angered you no less- it was like the woman wanted to take your place somehow.

Alastor turned to you as well with a smile, but when he saw the look in your eyes, his brow furrowed ever so slightly. However, he made no comment at your slightly disheveled appearance and picked up his expression once more. 

“Why, hello, my dear. Your lovely mother was just telling me about her life before you,” Alastor enthused. “A lively woman she was! I’ve heard story after exciting story. Quite a wild one, indeed- rather unlike you, sweetheart.”

You gave Alastor what could only be described as what is called ‘the thousand-yard stare,’ expression flat, not knowing really what to say to that. Despite the fact that you were in a bit of a daze still, either from the alcohol or the fact that your mother was on a date with your boyfriend, the haughty, self-superior expression on your mother’s face was not lost on you. Nor were the cow eyes she was giving him, or how when Alastor reached for the teapot to refill his cup her hand was conveniently already on the dish, lingering beneath his for what felt like hours.

She turned to Alastor, looking up at him with that sickly sweet, beaming grin of hers that she always plastered on her face when she was really about to lay it on. “I’m still wild if you ever care to find out,” she purred, batting her lashes at Alastor with an unmistakable air of seduction. 

Before you could even register it, you heard yourself saying, “Get out.”

Both your mother and Alastor turned to face you, your mother’s face having dropped and Alastor’s eyes piercing into yours. 

“What?” your mother asked, looking at you with wide, glassy eyes. You truly saw red for a moment, knowing damn well those tears were as false as Angel’s lashes, and the twitching in your muscles to just lash out was almost painfully difficult to stifle. Alastor’s smile wavered a little as his eyes darted from you to your blubbering mother, who had already started her shit.

You advanced forward, your stride making your mother jump and Alastor stand, and without hesitation tore her hand from Alastor’s, yanking her arm with force that momentarily startled even you. She was pulled from her chair and forced to stand up. 

Her voice full of anguish, she pleaded, “Baby girl, what did I do wrong?” However, unmoved by her over-the-top performance, you’d already started dragging her out, not bothering to respond to her or explain why you were throwing her out. She already knew; you could see past the tears and wails and her struggles to pull away from you. Fueled by fury, distress and the afterbuzz of the alcohol, you hauled your protesting mother out of the hotel, pitilessly leaving her outside in the dark, and forcefully slammed the doors behind her. There were muffled screams of your name coming from the other side, her fists pounding on the door, but after a bit they faded away.

The moment she was gone you instantly felt as if a weight had been lifted off of your chest, slumping against the door with a breath of exertion and relief. But that relief quickly dissipated when you locked eyes with Alastor, who was advancing on you, his smile obviously strained. The way he spat your name at you made you shrink back slightly, realizing that he was actually not pleased.

“You cannot just throw your own mother out like that. Into the streets? My dear, that is no way to treat your mother. And frankly, it’s rude.”

You felt anger rising once more, but you didn’t want to start anything with Alastor despite the fact that he had no idea what he was talking about. Of course it looked simply like bad etiquette from his standpoint; he had no idea who your mother was. And somehow you didn’t feel it was proper to tell him- you knew how much he valued his own mother and mothers in general, and as sweet as you had always thought that was, you knew he and his rosy view of maternal relationships wouldn’t understand and perhaps not allow for your turbulent relationship with your own mother. And you didn’t want to be the one to tarnish his otherwise endearing perspective by explaining how abhorrent of a person your mother was. So despite how much you just wanted to scream at him, to tell him he had no clue what was really going on, you kept your composure, inhaling shakily.

“Alastor, please. You- you don’t know what you’re talking about. So just stay out of it, alright?”

“She’s your mother, not the devil, dear.” Alastor’s tone was back to normal, and he was speaking in his usual radio voice as if he was talking to just anyone, and it made your stomach churn. 

“She’s not innocent, Alastor, she’s in Hell-”

“Ah, but so are you and I, sweetheart.”

Your face crumpled, and you found yourself coming up short for a rebuttal. Before you could stop them, tears started to well in your eyes, frustrated that you couldn’t get through to him. Out of spite and pride, you blinked them back harshly. Alastor tilted his head and started to come towards you, his mic stand clacking on the ground as he walked, and for a moment you felt a glimmer of hope, thinking that he truly wanted to talk and get to the bottom of your animosity towards your mother. 

But the Radio Demon breezed right past you and, before you could stop him, opened the door, and your mother whom you’d thought had given up at last and left waltzed right back in, suddenly no longer the aggrieved mother you’d thrown out and back to beaming a mile a minute. The self-assured smirk she sent your way had your blood boiling with rage, and you felt powerless to act. You wanted to slap that smirk off of her face, but why wouldn’t she smirk? She had Alastor exactly where she wanted him, and both of you knew it. 

“I apologize sincerely for the earlier… incident,” Alastor told your mother with a note olf sympathy in his voice, and again he took her hand; you had to tear your eyes away, back to the scene.

“Aren’t you charming!” your mother exclaimed, voice pleasant and upbeat. ‘Don’t even think of it, I’ve already forgotten.”

“You’re too kind, miss. But in order to make up for it, I’d like to offer you to spend the night. I would hate to send a lovely woman such as yourself out on the streets of Hell after sundown. I implore you.”

Fucking Christ. You didn’t even have to see her to know the way she was grinning at you. Your shoulders tensed, rising to your ears, and the tears burned hot in your eyes. Not wanting to give her the satisfaction, you bit your inner cheek hard enough to draw blood so as to not make the slightest sound alerting her to your tears.

“What a kind invitation. It’s nice to know at least somebody wants me here.” An icy silence from you. “It’d be rather rude not to accept; I would be happy to spend the night.”

“Lovely!” Alastor praised. 

You couldn’t take any more. Unable to stifle your sobs, hot tears falling down your cheeks, you tossed back a cracked “I’m going to bed,” and stormed out of the lobby with your head down, rushing upstairs as fast as you could and ignoring Alastor’s calls of your name. Just as you slammed the door to your room, you heard your mother say, “Oh, don’t worry about her. Let her cool off for a bit, and then I’ll go after her. A mother always knows how to cheer up her child.”

It was quiet now. Hours ago Angel Dust had returned from his work and Charlie and Vaggie had locked up for the night. Nifty had been, though with much effort, put to bed by Husk who had then closed up the bar and retired himself. You didn’t know where your mother or Alastor were, and you didn’t want to. 

You were the only one up now, and you had finally run out of tears. Your head was stuffy, your eyes were sore and bloodshot, and you could feel the beginnings of a hangover coming on. It felt like days you’d spent just crying in your bed, unable to suppress the emotion you’d felt since your mother reappeared that morning. Charlie had actually come to check on you earlier, worried, along with Vaggie, but Alastor had told them to let you be for now. You’d heard their muffled conversation from outside your door.

You just wished Alastor would understand, that they all would understand. Your mother wasn’t a mother. She didn’t nurture, she didn’t love, all she did was belittle you, bully you, and take from you. Yet never once had you been able to figure out what you’d ever done to her. You had tried so hard to help and to please her as a living child, then teenager, then adult- tending to your siblings when she was out on the town, working multiple jobs to take care of the house while she spent the day blackout drunk and the nights in the city, and still desperately believing she would change, you sent her portions of your salary when you grew older and begged her to utilize the money, but she always blew it on material shit. And as if it wasn’t enough that you had to be the mother to yourself and your siblings, she beat you too, mostly when she was drunk but sometimes you felt it was just for her amusement or to make you feel small and worthless. As a teenager she did nothing but sabotage you- you couldn’t ever have friends over because she was always passed out on the couch or acting erratic and stinking of cheap liquor, and you had to fight like hell to get your siblings out of there after you left home for school. And yet you had still had hope for her.

That all changed when you came to Hell. It was the end of the road for real now, and you figured there was no point trying to reconcile with your mother anymore. So you’d left her in the past, thinking it was over, finally allowing yourself a little peace. But you hadn’t realized the extent of the resent you’d been harboring until she showed up at the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel. All those feelings just came rushing back.

Another hour or so passed and your swollen eyes were dried out and heavy-lidded. Exhausted from fretting about your mother and regretting the amount you'd had to drink, you turned over in your bed with a stifled groan and closed your eyes, hoping that sleep would finally find you and you could escape the events of the day at least for a little while. But just as you were drifting off, you were startled by the sound of your bedroom door opening.

You let out a moan that was half confusion and half sleepiness, and rolled over just a little to glance at the door through hazy eyes. “Alastor?” you mumbled questioningly, rubbing your eyes groggily.

But the voice that responded woke you right up.

“Not a chance, pet.”

You sat up instantly, knocking the bedcovers off. In the doorway, a shadowy silhouette in the dimly lit hallway, was your mother. A discordant note of exasperation sounded in your head; the woman couldn't let you be even at this hour? For the moment at least, you were more mildly annoyed than pissed like you were earlier, just wondering what in the hell she could possibly want now.

“Why are you even-”

You cut yourself off and immediately jumped out of the bed just as your mother lunged at you like a pouncing tigress; you'd sensed the attack in the way she had been moving and acted accordingly before she could maul you. It didn't mean it didn't still catch you off guard, though.

Your voice rising, you snapped, “What the hell are you-”

Again you were interrupted when she sprung off the bed and snatched your wrists in her iron grip before you could dodge again; her clasp was tight and bruising and you winced painfully. You caught a glimpse of her eyes in the faint light, and they were inflamed, wild with fury she'd probably been suppressing this whole time. It wasn't a new expression.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she snarled, voice trembling with fury. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you demanded, tearing your wrists from her grasp and moving a distance away from her so she was on one side of the bed and you were on the other. By the bewildered look on her face, she was clearly not expecting you to break away so effortlessly; maybe thinking she could just abuse you like she did when you were a defenseless child.

Like hell.

“What the hell are you even mad at me for?”

Your mother, seething, launched more accusations at you. “You think you're better than me, now, is it? Saw your sorry ass on the news after that damn Extermination rebellion. Bet it took your ego up a few notches killing those Exorcists, huh? And now that you're in some fancy hotel, dating some powerful boytoy and hiding behind hell's princess, you think you can just get rid of me?”

“Apparently fucking not, because here you are. And I'm not hiding. I'm trying to get away from you.”

Your mother let out a bitter, droll laugh. “Oh, you think that's how this works?” she hissed in an icy manner, and even though you were already a good distance away you backed up further still. “Think again, whore. I'm the one who deserves to be here, not some ungrateful little cunt who just happened to fall out of me. If I have to live destitute in the back alleys of Hell, so do you.”

The heartless insults and vulgarities she hurled your way would have shattered the living version of you. But it was about time your mother learned that you were no longer the pleading daughter you’d been on Earth, and instead of piercing your heart the names merely bounced off of you.

“You might recall I spent my whole damn life trying to help you,” you answered with equal coldness. “And for nothing, too, because here the hell we both are. Don't blame me because you turned out to be the nothing you always were.”

Without warning, she lunged at you, rushing forward like a charging bull, and though you tried to dodge she managed to snatch a handful of your hair and slam your head into the wall. You let out a cry of shock and pain and spots exploded in front of your vision before you reached up, tore her hand from your head and shoved her forward. You advanced again, teeth bared and fists balled, unwilling to let her get up- but before you could swing, there was a crackle in the air- and what followed was a cacophony of static, crackling, and microphone feedback that would've deafened an elephant. But the sound wasn't new to you, and you weren't surprised in the least when you lifted your eyes to see Alastor, smile maniacal and glowing red eyes wild as he entered the room. The sudden explosion of sound made your mother flinch and clap her hands over her ears, and seeing your opening, you kicked her to the ground; her head hit the wall rather roughly and she lost consciousness, her body going limp. You were breathing heavily, staring at her body sprawled on the ground without pity.

Alastor's eyes lost their luminescence and his smile softened; and he came over to you, attempting to touch you, but you shied away. You weren't necessarily ready to forgive him; if he'd just done a little more pushing and hadn't invited your mother here with you, this could have been avoided. You dropped your eyes to the floor.

“I'm sorry, my dear,” Alastor offered in a voice that was sufficiently staticky. “I wasn't too kind to you today.”

You wanted to say, no shit, but held your tongue, back to him still. Feelings of resent still swirled within you, but admittedly, hearing his apology did make them dissipate a little.

“Why is it you didn't simply tell me she was like this?”

Now you were silent not out of spite but more because…you simply didn't know what to say? Where were you to even begin? How would you explain that you didn't want to somehow tarnish his view of mothers by explaining your history with your own? And that you didn't want him to feel guilty about having a good relationship with his mother while yours was knocked out on the floor in front of you? And that you didn't want him to lose his love of mothers because you were unfortunate enough to have a shitty one? 

Somehow you managed to splutter all of that into something coherent, because Alastor gathered you in his arms without waiting for your approval, which you didn't mind, finally feeling somewhat okay since your mother had first shown up. You felt his hands in your hair, taming the out of place strands, and he lifted your wrists to his eyes, tutting in disapproval when he saw the bruises beginning to form. He settled for wordlessly kissing the deepening marks gently, but when he spotted the gash on your head where your mother had slammed you into the wall, his smile turned positively venomous. His head did a full 180 on his neck, which always made you cringe, to glare at your groggily awakening mother, who froze in her position on the floor when she caught his alarming gaze.

Alastor turned back to you, static popping in the air, and his smile grew- if that was even possible. “Well, sweetheart? What would you like me to do with her?”

You were frankly tired now of fighting your mother, who had staggered from the ground, rage still evident in her visage but with Alastor present she wasn’t about to act. So with a weary sigh, slumping into Alastor’s chest, you muttered, “I just want her gone.”

“Anything you wish.” And within the next few minutes, Alastor had summoned Nifty, who was more than eager to take out the trash, and had the tiny janitor drag your mother from your room by her hair. You lost sight of the two after they left, but by the way Nifty was giggling the entire time she was hauling your mother, you had a feeling the next several hours wouldn’t be too enjoyable for her.

You’d been on edge the whole day, but you didn’t quite realize the sheer amount of tension your mother’s presence had placed on you until it was only you and Alastor inside the room. His hand traced soothing circles around your back, and you finally felt like you could breathe.

The morning, after what seemed like centuries, finally did arrive. You were already up although day had barely broken, and that was because the earlier commotion had disturbed the hotel residents and they had literally gotten you and Alastor (who had evidently felt bad enough to spend the rest of the night with you, which he didn’t often do for posterity reasons, kissing the side of your head where it was wounded and apologizing once more) up out of bed to barrage you both with an onslaught of questions (and Nifty remaining suspiciously silent save the occasional maniacal giggle). With some reluctance you gave the group a brief explanation of everything that had gone down, Alastor standing beside you with a protective hand on your shoulder. Long story short, everyone basically grasped that they’d fucked up by allowing your mother in and judging you harshly about it, and before long Charlie was in tears and begging for you to forgive her, Vaggie had admitted her remorse over it, Angel Dust was shifty-eyed and sheepish, and Husk apologized to you formally. You dismissed the apologies with a grateful look, and that seemed to satisfy them all except Charlie, who you had to tell straight out you truly did forgive her at least five times and that only set her off bawling again to the point Vaggie had to carry the girl out.

Alastor, although one couldn’t tell by his face, apparently did feel guilty about his involvement in the whole fiasco because he took you out for breakfast and spent the rest of the day with you, and by the time night fell once more your cheeks hurt from smiling so much and your spirits were significantly lifted. It wasn’t until the two of you were in bed together (again, your lucky day, you didn’t even have to convince him) that he broke the long, contented silence you two had been sharing to inform you curtly:

“You didn’t ruin my opinion of mothers, you know.”

You sat up at this, eyes wide with hope and relief. He rose along with you to meet your gaze.

“I didn’t?”

“Oh, no. My dear, I love my own mother dearly, but don’t think I’m not aware that others may not have the same relationship with their own mothers. I did admire your resilience, though, and though it really wasn’t necessary, I do appreciate your attempt to spare my feelings. If I do say so myself”- his hand came to rest on your lower belly- “you seem like you’d make quite a stellar mother yourself.”

“Alastor.”

“Merely a thought.”

[jobean12-blog]

Driven By Desire

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Mechanic AU)

Word Count: 3,300

Summary: Your car breaks down but you’re lucky enough to be close to a mechanic who’s going to help you out...in more ways than one. 

Author’s Note: This is a completely self indulgent fic that I didn’t even have planned but then my sweet friend Cia @holacia3 shared a pic and it all snowballed from there haha YAY thank you so much! I love it! This is only my second time doing his AU but it’s so fun and I feel like Joel fits well with it! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy! 

Warnings: it’s super fun and flirty and there’s lots of tension, reader is fiery and c-u-rs-es a lot but Joel loves it and he doesn’t hold back either so there’s a lot of back and forth fun. Light d-ir-t-y ta-l-k and o-r-al and f-i-n-ge-r-in-g. 

Joel Miller Masterlist

You slam the car door so hard you’re surprised you don’t break something else before you stomp toward the garage, thankful the doors are still open.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the lighting and your ears to the blaring music. You look around, trying to focus on finding someone who works here. Finally you spot a pair of long jean clad legs sticking out from under one of the cars.

One booted foot is tapping in beat to the music and you slowly walk over.

“Excuse me,” you say.

No response. Nothing.

“EXCUSE ME!” you yell, trying to be heard over the music.

Still nothing so you kick gently at the boot.

He flies out from under the car so fast you startle with a shriek, careening backward in your heeled feet. Large hands shoot out automatically, catching you by the waist to stop your fall.

“What the fuck?” you screech.

“Alexa, turn down the music,” he says in a deep, gravelly voice, his hands still on your waist.

Your ears are still ringing when he asks, “what was that darlin’?”

“I said,” and you proceed to press your palms against his hard chest and step out of his grasp, “what the fuck?”

“Sorry darlin’” he murmurs but his eyes are sparkling. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock!” you retort.

“Wow, what a mouth on you,” he throws back but from the smirk pulling at his lips you can tell he’s anything but annoyed.

He tugs an old rag from the back of his jeans and wipes his hands. Your eyes fall to the action and you can’t help but remember what those hands felt like warm and strong on your waist just a moment ago.  

You let out a long exhale. “My car started stalling. I barely made it in here. Can you take a look at it?”

“We’re closed but just for you, I’ll take a look,” he winks.

He holds out a still greasy hand and motions for you to walk. You start toward your car, peeking over your shoulder to see if he’s following. He is and he’s doing nothing to hide the way his eyes slowly slide down your body.

“Here it is,” you say as you lean against the door, glaring at him.

He gives you a lopsided smile and steps in front of the car to open the hood. You take the chance to get a good look at him and you like what you see. A lot.

His jeans are tight enough to show off long legs and thick thighs and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, leaving his forearms exposed so that every time he twists or pulls something you see the cords of muscle flex. And when he bends over the hood you get a good glimpse of his round ass.

“Looks like it’s the transmission,” he says, standing and looking your way.

“Hmm?” you ask, still recovering from your perusal of his body and now studying the handsome features of his face.

His dark hair is mussed in way that tells you he keeps running his fingers through it and his sharp jaw is lined with a dark shadow of scruff peppered with patches of gray. Dark chocolate eyes stare right back as his full lips twitch with a smile.

“The transmission sweetheart. You’re not drivin’ this home.”

You have to stop yourself from letting out a whine and stomping your foot.

“For fucks sake!” you mutter.

“There’s that mouth again,” he teases, but there’s an underlying heat to his words.  

You smile wryly, ignoring the unexpected charge in the air and the way it zips down your spine.

“Excuse me, I just need to make a call,” you explain before pulling out your phone and stepping away.

After you call your best friend you walk back to your car, taking another chance to check him out before he stops tinkering with something under the hood.

“My friend is on her way…thanks for taking a look at it.”

He nods and closes the hood before leaning against the front and crossing his arms over his chest.

“You can leave it with me. I’ll get it fixed for ya.”

“How long do you think it will take?” you ask, mentally going over your schedule.

“Depends on parts. If I need any could be up to a week, if not should only be a couple of days.”

He whips his cell out from the other back pocket of his jeans.

“What’s your name darlin’? he asks.

You give him your name and number.

“Joel,” he says when you look at him expectantly.

“Well, thanks Joel and sorry for cursing at you.”

“Don’t be,” he grins. “I like it.”

Rachel pulls up before you can give him a sassy reply and you tear your gaze away.

“Hey,” she says once the window is down. “You good?”

She looks at Joel then back to you.

“Fine, just fucking pissed!” you say, throwing up your arms.

You can hear Joel’s chuckle.

“I’ll call you,” he says when you turn around. “Get home safe.”

“Thanks,” you say as you plop down in Rachel’s car.

When the window is up and she’s out of the parking lot you continue your rant. “Fucking car! It’s probably the transmission and who knows how long that will take!”

“I’m sure hot mechanic guy can fix it right up for you,” she giggles.

“Was he hot?” you ask with a roll of your eyes. “I didn’t notice.”

“Yes you did!” she scoffs. “You were practically eye fucking him when I pulled up.”

“I WAS NOT!” you screech.

“Keep telling yourself that,” she laughs. “And don’t worry he was doing the same thing.”

“Son of a bitch,” you mutter before closing your eyes and leaning your head back along the headrest.

“Hey darlin’” he drawls when you get out of Rachel’s car. He’s smiling and it makes the little sun kissed crinkles around his eyes pop out.

You realize he’s waiting for you to say something so you clear your throat with a greeting.

“Your car’s ready and good as new. Come on.”

You follow him to your car and try to pay attention as he explains what he did. He’s half under the hood when he crooks a thick finger at you, asking you to bend down and take a look. Despite your surprise you do as he asks and can’t help but admire the new shiny whatever it is he put inside.

“That looks like it will work better than whatever piece of shit was in there before,” you grumble.

He turns his face to look at you, smirking again. “You bet it will.”

“What’s that?” you ask, touching the object next to it.

Before he can answer you pull your hand back and see your fingertips are covered with grease.

“Shit,” you mutter.

“That’s the oil pan,” he says, trying to hide his smile. “Pretty filthy.”

“Yeah, I can see that” you answer sarcastically as you try to wipe your fingers clean. “Fucking grease…”

He hands you his rag, folding it to the cleanest side and trying to hold back his smile. With a quiet thanks you take it and try again. It’s really no use so you sigh and give it back.

“It’ll come off with some soap,” he grins.

With one last check he shuts the hood and ushers you into the small office in front of the shop.

“Thanks for fixing it for me so fast and at such a good price,” you say.

“My pleasure darlin’.”

You fidget under his intense gaze, mindlessly rubbing at your cheek.

He chuckles and steps closer, lifting his hand slowly, the question of whether you’re going to stop him filling his steady gaze.

“You just wiped some grease on your cheek. A smudge. Right here.”

“For fucks sake,” you mutter.

He cups your jaw, swiping at your cheek with a delicacy you don’t expect from his rough hands. You feel singed in the wake of his calloused thumb.

“Did you just wipe more grease on me,” you say, trying to sound pissed but it comes out breathy instead.

“Maybe,” he answers, looking smug.

He dips his head, still cradling your jaw as he moves closer.

You lean forward slightly and lick your lips, your body acting on its own accord.

His eyes track the movement and he inches closer still, the electricity buzzing between you.

Rachel’s shrill voice breaks the moment and you rock back on your heels, looking over Joel’s shoulder to see her standing in the doorway.

Her smile widens as she looks between the two of you.

“So,” she says. “You all set?”

“All set,” you mirror, your eyes still on Joel.

Rachel slides up next to you, resting her elbow on your shoulder.

“You know Joel,” she starts. “We’re going for drinks tomorrow night at the dive bar in town. You should totally join us.”

Your eyes go wide and you open your mouth to protest but Rachel cuts you off with, “I mean she really owes you one anyway,” and she points her finger in your direction. “You fixed her car so quickly and all.”

You turn and glare at your friend, narrowing your eyes until you can barely see.

“I’m sure Joel has other plans,” you grit out.

“Actually I don’t,” he answers, keeping his eyes on you. “Text me when and where.”

You let out a little huff and he laughs, leaning toward you and placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “See you tomorrow night darlin’.”

He walks back into the garage and you stand there, pressing your greasy fingers to the spot on your skin where the feel of his lips lingers.

“Eeeeeeeeeeeee,” Rachel squeaks as she pulls you out by the arm.

When you pull up to the bar you don’t see Joel yet so you sit back and text Rachel one more time to ask where she is.

Your phone rings.

“I’m not coming,” Rachel says before you can say hello.

“WHAT?”

“I’m sick,” she explains with a cough.

“I swear I’m going to fucking kick your ass girl,” you hiss.

“No you’re not. You’re going to thank me tomorrow morning. I promise. Now have fun and be safe. Call me if you need anything. Love ya!”

With her last sing song words she hangs up and you’re left staring at your phone dumbfounded, several expletives flying out of your mouth. The screen lights up with a text from Joel telling you he’s arrived and as you’re typing a reply that you’ll meet him by the door you catch movement out of the corner of your eye.

You see him striding toward your car, his dark eyes full of promises.

He runs his hand across the hood the way you want him to run it over your skin as he comes to the window. With a smile he opens your door and holds out his hand. You look down at it, clean and free of grease.

“Told ya soap does the trick,” he says with a waggle of his brows.

You can’t stop your laughter as you take his hand, letting him pull you from the car. His eyes are locked on you, tracing down your body and when they lift to yours again, he’s daring you to call him out on how he’s blatantly checking you out.

Your smile falters as he pulls you closer, letting every inch of you line up with the hard planes of his body.

“You look gorgeous,” he says. “You ready?”  

Once you’re seated at the the bar he finally asks, “where’s Rachel?”

“Do you always sit like that? Manspread like…”

Your eyes fall between his legs before you can stop them.

“Like?” he asks, spreading his thighs wider.

“She’s not coming,” you deadpan, answering his original question as your eyes move up to his. “She’s sick.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replies with a smile as he grabs your stool to drag it closer.

“Fucking bullshit!” you scoff. “You’re not sorry at all.”

You reach out and whack his thigh.

His large hand settles on the spot you just hit before his fingers spread wide and he rubs them over his jeans.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Now that’s fucking bullshit,” he counters with a wink. “And you can hit me all you want. I’d say or do just about anything to have your hands on me darlin’.”

Your lips part with a small gasp and his eyes drop to your mouth.

“What? Got nothing to say to that?” he teases.

The bartender interrupts the moment by setting your drinks down. Joel grabs his without taking his eyes off you and takes a long and slow sip. You’re staring contest is broken when a man you don’t know walks up next to Joel.

“Well, well if it isn’t Joel Miller.”

Joel’s eyes squeeze shut at the sound of the man’s voice and he slowly turns on his stool to face him.

“Dave,” Joel says, tone flat.

‘Dave’ smiles widely and then his eyes fall to you.

“And who do we have here?” Dave asks, trying to sound smooth.

You’re trying so hard not to roll your eyes as you hold out your hand and give him your name.

Joel and Dave exchange some small talk that you can see Joel is struggling through, his attention constantly pulled to you and just when you think Dave is going to leave he asks, “mind if I join you two for a drink?”

“Actually,” Joel says. “I do.”

Joel gives no further explanation but you can see his jaw twitch with barely controlled restraint.

Dave’s face falls as he mutters something you don’t quite catch. He recovers quickly enough continuing to mumble as he walks off looking like a scolded child.

“You’re so friendly,” you poke. “Joel Miller.”

You laugh at your own dig, drawing out his first and last name as you watch his lips lift into a grin. “Does everyone address you by your full name?”

He waits a beat before answering, taking another sip of his beer then licking his lips clean.

“First of all darlin’” he croons, “I don’t’ share.”  

He let’s his words settle in the small space between you, ignited and ready to explode.

“And second, you only have to scream out Joel. If you can get my whole name out, I’m not doing my job.”

Your thighs press together and you look down at your drink, chugging the rest of it before you answer.

“Fuck me,” you breathe out.

“That’s the plan. “If you’ll let me,” he shoots back. “And that mouth of yours too. Been wanting to shut you up with my cock since the moment you walked into my shop.”

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip and your lashes lower, the thoughts running through your brain only making your skin burn hotter. Your mouth is full of choice words for his bold admission but you want him to do it. All of it. And as if sensing your inner thoughts, he stands slowly and drains what little is left of his beer, stepping into your space as he waits.

You move with him, tucking yourself into his side as he pulls you out of the bar.  

He leads you toward his truck, backing you up, two small steps of give, before your spine meets the cold metal and his mouth covers yours.

There’s nothing soft about his kiss. It’s demanding and devouring and when he nibbles your lip, you gasp and leave his mouth to bite the skin of his neck, pulling at the collar of his shirt to expose more of it.

He hisses out your name, holding you in place while you suck gently to soothe the sharp nip. His hands mold over your body, learning every curve as he captures your mouth again.

Your hands slide around his neck, your fingers curling into his hair at the nape before you drag them through his soft locks.

“Fuck,” he groans. “I’m gonna come in my damn jeans right here if you don’t stop.”  

You don’t stop, your hips grinding into his and your fingers scorching over his skin. He growls low and pulls away just enough to open the driver’s side door.

“Get in.”

He helps you up and you scoot into the passenger side, barely clicking your seatbelt before the engine roars to life.

When he pulls up to the garage you’ve barely unbuckled your seatbelt before he’s at your door pulling you out.

“I live upstairs,” he says as he tugs you to the side door. He opens it and you start up the flight of steps.

You don’t get very far before his hands are on you, his fingers digging into the back of your bare thighs and teasing along the soft skin at the edge of your dress, dipping underneath when you push your ass toward him.  

He presses a soft kiss to the skin just above the back of your knee, teasing you with every whisper of his lips.

“More,” you demand. “I want your fingers.”

You can hear his chuckle as he keeps tracing along the hem, getting closer and closer to your panties. He shoves the dress over your hips and you spread your legs wider, an invitation, one he accepts by grazing his thumb along the soft skin peeking out.

The material is wet and sticking to you. “Fuck, that’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Before you can comment on his curses and how he’s going to outdo your dirty mouth, he moves your panties to the side and buries his face between your legs.

You whine his name as he wraps his arm around your thighs, holding you against his mouth, the beard lining his jaw scraping your skin in the most delicious way. Your moans get louder the closer you get to coming but he takes his mouth away before you can scream his name and turns you in his arms, sitting you on the step and spreading your legs.

“I need to see you,” he murmurs, easing one thick finger inside you.

You sigh like it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt and you can see his jaw clench hard. He adds another finger, pumping them in and out while you meet him with every thrust of your hips. And when he brushes his thumb over your clit, you come, crying out his name just like he said you would.

He continues to slowly fuck you with his fingers, dragging out your pleasure until your breathing steadies. He leans forward and licks lazily over your clit to taste your sweetness, his fingers still buried inside you.

You make happy noises of praise and melt against the stairs.

When he pulls his fingers free he pushes them into his mouth and licks them clean, humming at the taste.

“You’re fucking delicious darlin’.”

He helps you to stand and then up the rest of the stairs, his mouth on as soon as he has the door open. You barely get a look at his place as you kiss your way down the hall to his bedroom, your knees hitting the back of the bed as you fall onto it.

You watch as he drops his hand to his jeans and makes quick work of the button, shoving the material down along with his underwear to free his cock. He pumps his hand up and down his thick length and your mouth waters.

“I want that,” you purr as your legs fall open.

“Goddamn, I’m going to fuck you so good,” he growls out in answer.

@sstan-hoe @hallecarey1​ @littleseasiren​ @blackwidownat2814​ @pedritosdarling​ @hiddles-rose​ @justkinsey​ @beccablogsthings @laineyreads​ @kmc1989​ @lorilane33​

[mintyys-blog]

bucky barnes x HYDRA! reader: Veil of Deception

WARNINGS: betrayal, fighting, character death, guns.

Working for HYDRA while embedded in SHIELD was a delicate dance—one you had mastered. Your cover was flawless. You were the dependable friend, the reliable agent, the one they trusted implicitly.

And you hated how good you were at lying to them.

It wasn’t supposed to matter. You’d been groomed for this role, trained to infiltrate and gain their confidence, but some part of you—the part that hadn’t been completely swallowed by HYDRA’s influence—regretted the weight of betrayal that came with it.

Especially when it came to Bucky Barnes.

You hadn’t planned for him. The way his quiet strength drew you in, how his subtle smirks and rare moments of vulnerability made your chest ache. But your mission came first. It always had to.

It was late, long after most of the Avengers had retired for the night. The dim glow of your laptop illuminated your face as your fingers flew across the keyboard. You were decrypting SHIELD’s latest intel, quietly funneling the data to your HYDRA contact via a secure backchannel.

The file transfer was nearly complete when you heard footsteps approaching.

Your heart leapt into your throat. Quickly, you minimized the window and pulled up a fake report you’d prepared for moments like this. You straightened just as Bucky walked into the room, his metal arm catching the faint light.

“Still working?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

“Someone has to,” you replied, forcing a smile.

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “You work too much. You should rest.”

You shrugged, hoping your casual demeanor masked the frantic pounding of your heart. “Not all of us have a super-soldier metabolism to keep us going.”

He smirked slightly, pushing off the doorframe and walking closer. “Seriously, though. You’ve been burning the midnight oil all week. What’s going on?”

“Just trying to stay ahead of things,” you said, gesturing to the screen. “These reports don’t write themselves.”

Bucky’s sharp blue eyes flicked to your laptop, and for a brief, agonizing moment, you thought he might press further. But instead, he nodded, his expression softening.

“You should still take care of yourself,” he said quietly.

His concern made your chest tighten. “I will,” you promised, offering him a reassuring smile.

Bucky lingered for a moment longer before nodding and heading back toward his room. You waited until the sound of his footsteps faded completely before letting out a shaky breath.

That was too close.

A week later, it happened again—only this time, it wasn’t Bucky.

You were in the SHIELD server room, downloading sensitive files onto a concealed flash drive. The faint hum of the machines filled the space as you kept an ear out for any approaching footsteps.

“Y/N?”

You froze. Steve Rogers stood in the doorway, his brows furrowed.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, stepping inside.

Thinking fast, you slipped the flash drive into your pocket and turned to face him, keeping your expression calm. “Agent Hill asked me to pull some data for her. Something about cross-referencing mission logs.”

Steve’s suspicious gaze flicked to the terminal behind you. “That’s above your clearance level.”

You feigned indignation, crossing your arms. “And you think I’m not aware of that? I told her the same thing, but she insisted. Said it was urgent.”

Steve hesitated, clearly debating whether to press further. You held his gaze, willing him to believe you.

Finally, he sighed. “Next time, have her clear it with me first.”

“Will do, Captain,” you said, offering a sheepish smile.

He nodded and left the room, leaving you alone once more. You exhaled shakily, your hand tightening around the flash drive in your pocket.

The close calls were becoming too frequent, but you couldn’t stop now. HYDRA’s plans depended on the information you were feeding them. And no matter how deeply you’d ingrained yourself into the Avengers’ lives, you couldn’t forget where your true loyalties lay.

But that didn’t stop the guilt from eating away at you.

One evening, as you sat on the couch with Bucky, you felt the weight of it more than ever. He was relaxed beside you, his metal arm resting on the back of the couch.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he said, glancing at you.

“Just tired,” you murmured, leaning against the armrest.

He frowned, his blue eyes scanning your face. “You sure that’s all it is?”

You hesitated, feeling the urge to tell him the truth—just this once. But the moment passed as quickly as it came.

“I’m sure,” you said softly.

He studied you for a moment longer before nodding. “If you ever need to talk… you know where to find me.”

The kindness in his voice nearly broke you. You wanted to believe that you could have been someone different, someone who didn’t have to lie to him.

But that wasn’t your reality.

As Bucky leaned back and turned his attention to the movie playing on the screen, you allowed yourself a brief moment to watch him. To memorize the way his features softened in the dim light.

Because one day, when the truth came out, you knew he would look at you with nothing but hatred.

And you would deserve it.

The assignment had been simple: infiltrate, eliminate, and disappear. HYDRA didn’t expect her to win outright—not against the Avengers. But they trusted her to sow enough chaos to send a message.

You donned the disguise carefully: a high-tech mask that altered your face and voice, a sleek tactical suit that concealed your identity completely. In the mirror, you weren’t yourself anymore. You were Nemesis, HYDRA’s shadow operative.

You knew everything about them—their fighting styles, their weaknesses. The trust they had in you as their friend now worked against them. But no amount of training could prepare you for how it would feel to face them.

The mission began under cover of night. They didn’t recognize you, as you’d expected. The Avengers were sharp, but even their instincts couldn’t penetrate the layers of your disguise. You struck fast and hard, using your knowledge of their tactics to stay one step ahead.

Natasha’s strikes were precise, but you countered every move. Sam’s aerial attacks were thwarted by well-placed traps. Even Steve’s shield didn’t land a single hit. But it was Bucky who made your heart race.

The way he moved, so deliberate and relentless—it took all your willpower to keep him at bay.

You’d lured them to an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city. From the rafters, you positioned your sniper rifle, the crosshairs trained on your target: Steve Rogers. One clean shot, and you’d be done.

Your finger hovered over the trigger. You knew this was your chance.

But you hesitated.

Steve wasn’t just a target. He was the man who had always believed in you, who had called you a friend. You could see the others moving below, their voices calling out to each other as they searched for you. You couldn’t do it.

That moment of hesitation was your undoing.

A flash of movement caught your eye—Bucky. He spotted your position and fired his grappling hook, launching himself up to the rafters. You barely had time to roll out of the way before he landed.

The fight was brutal. Bucky didn’t hold back, his metal fist striking with bone-crushing force. You dodged most of his blows, but one punch caught you square in the side, sending you crashing into the railing. The pain was blinding, but you couldn’t let it slow you down.

“Who the hell are you?” Bucky growled, advancing on you.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you activated a smoke grenade, vanishing into the haze and disappearing into the night.

The compound was eerily quiet when you returned. You moved quickly to your room, peeling off the disguise and stepping into the shower. The hot water soothed your aching muscles, but it couldn’t wash away the guilt.

Your hand brushed against your side, and you winced. The bruise from Bucky’s punch was already forming, dark and angry.

You were drying off when the sound of footsteps startled you. Wrapping the towel tightly around yourself, you peeked out into the shared bathroom area.

It was Bucky.

He was fresh from the gym, his black tank top clinging to his chest, a towel slung over his shoulder. His hair was damp with sweat, and he looked at you with a mix of surprise and something softer.

“Didn’t know anyone else was here,” he said, his voice low.

You forced a smile, holding your towel in place as you moved toward your things. “Just got back. Needed a shower after my mission.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze drifting to your side. “What happened there?”

You froze. The bruise was partially visible, the towel doing little to hide it.

“It’s nothing,” you said quickly. “Just got caught in the middle of things. You know how it is.”

Bucky frowned, stepping closer. “Caught in the middle of what? That looks like it hurts.”

“It’s fine,” you insisted, your voice steady. “I can handle it.”

But he didn’t look convinced. His metal hand hovered near your side, as if he wanted to touch but didn’t want to hurt you. “Whoever did that, I hope you gave it back to them tenfold.”

You swallowed hard, the irony of his words cutting deep. “I did,” you lied, your voice soft.

His concern didn’t waver, and you knew you needed to change the subject. You stepped closer, your hand resting on his chest. “You worry too much, Bucky.”

“I can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice dropping as his eyes locked on yours.

Leaning up, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He melted into it, his hand resting gently on your hip, careful to avoid the bruise.

When you pulled back, you gave him a small smile. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

Bucky studied you for a moment, his blue eyes searching yours as if trying to decipher some hidden truth. Finally, he nodded. “Alright. Just… be careful, okay?”

“I will,” you promised.

As he turned to head to the showers, you let out a quiet breath, your hand instinctively brushing over the bruise again.

The lies were getting harder to tell. But you couldn’t stop now.

You had a mission to finish.

The walls were closing in. HYDRA’s demands were growing louder, more ruthless, and the Avengers were getting closer to uncovering your double life. Every mission, every lie, felt like you were walking a razor’s edge.

But the real fracture came when HYDRA gave you an ultimatum.

“Eliminate James Barnes,” your handler instructed. “He’s a liability, and his connection to you could expose everything. Prove your loyalty.”

You didn’t flinch outwardly, but inside, it felt like a knife had been driven into your chest. They knew. They knew you’d let yourself get too close.

You nodded sharply, concealing your turmoil. “Understood.”

The plan was simple. Use his feelings for you, isolate him from the others, and deliver him to HYDRA.

It was late when you found him in the compound gym, his movements fluid as he punched the heavy bag. His shirt clung to his chest, his damp hair sticking to his forehead. He didn’t notice you at first, too lost in the rhythm of his strikes.

“Bucky,” you called softly, leaning against the doorway.

He stopped immediately, his steel-blue eyes finding yours. The tension in his shoulders eased, and he gave you a faint smile.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from his face. “What’s up?”

You stepped closer, keeping your expression calm. “I need to talk to you. Somewhere private.”

His brows furrowed, concern flashing in his eyes. “Everything okay?”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just… something I need to say.”

He followed you without hesitation. That trust, that unwavering belief in you, made your stomach churn. You led him to the abandoned warehouse HYDRA had chosen, your heart pounding as you sent the signal to your handler.

“You’ve been acting off lately,” Bucky said as you stepped into the dimly lit space. “What’s going on?”

You turned to face him, schooling your features into an expression of quiet vulnerability. “I… I didn’t know how to say this.”

Bucky tilted his head, his worry deepening. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”

And that was the problem.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Before he could respond, the sound of boots on concrete echoed through the warehouse. HYDRA operatives emerged from the shadows, their weapons trained on him.

Bucky’s expression darkened as he realized what was happening. His gaze snapped back to you, betrayal flashing across his face. “What the hell is this?”

You couldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s my job, Bucky.”

He stepped toward you, his voice low and dangerous. “Your job? You’ve been lying to us this whole time?”

“To you,” you admitted, your voice shaking despite yourself. “It wasn’t supposed to be personal. But it… it got messy.”

The operatives moved closer, but Bucky didn’t flinch. His focus was entirely on you. “Messy? Is that what this is? I trusted you, Y/N.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay cold. “You shouldn’t have.”

But the words felt hollow.

When HYDRA moved to restrain him, Bucky didn’t go quietly. He fought with brutal efficiency, his metal arm tearing through their ranks. You watched, your fingers tightening on the pistol at your side.

You could end this. One shot.

But your hand trembled.

“Shoot him!” one of the HYDRA agents barked.

You raised the gun, your heart pounding. Bucky’s eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze.

“Don’t do this,” he said quietly, his voice raw. “You don’t have to.”

Tears blurred your vision. You pulled the trigger—but your aim was off, the shot grazing his arm instead of hitting its mark.

Bucky lunged, knocking the gun from your hand. His metal arm gripped your wrist as he pinned you against the wall.

“You hesitated,” he said, his voice a mix of anger and confusion. “Why?”

You didn’t answer, your chest heaving as you stared up at him.

“You wanted me to catch you,” he realized, his grip tightening. “Didn’t you?”

Maybe you did. Maybe you were tired of the lies, the double life, the endless cycle of betrayal. But you couldn’t admit that—not even to yourself.

“I chose HYDRA,” you said instead, your voice steady even as your heart broke.

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his eyes searching yours. “Then why didn’t you kill me?”

You stayed silent, tears slipping down your cheeks.

He released your wrist, stepping back as if touching you burned. “You made your choice,” he said coldly. “Now live with it.”

He turned and walked away, leaving you in the wreckage of your own making.

Back at the compound, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the bruise on your face from Bucky’s punch already starting to form. You’d failed HYDRA, but you hadn’t truly won anything either.

You thought about Bucky’s words, the look in his eyes when he realized you’d hesitated. He would never trust you again, and you’d never forgive yourself.

And yet, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if this was exactly how it was meant to end.

The compound felt hollow without you.

When they noticed you were gone, it wasn’t the lack of goodbye that stung the most—it was the absence of everything. Your room was cleared, the photos you’d taken with the team erased from their devices, your belongings gone as if you’d never existed.

Bucky stood in the doorway of your now-empty room, his jaw clenched tightly. There wasn’t even a single piece of evidence that you’d ever been part of their lives. And for all they knew, maybe you never had been.

“She didn’t just leave,” Natasha said, her voice icy. “She wiped herself out of our lives. That’s not someone running away. That’s someone covering their tracks.”

Steve stood beside her, his expression grim. “It doesn’t make sense. Why now? Why like this?”

Bucky said nothing, his hands balling into fists. He didn’t have an answer for them, but something deep inside him whispered the truth he didn’t want to face.

You weren’t coming back.

The mission was straightforward: infiltrate a HYDRA base and gather intel. It was supposed to be routine—just Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Bucky.

But nothing about this mission felt routine.

They moved cautiously through the dark corridors of the base, their weapons drawn. The tension in the air was palpable, and Bucky’s gut churned with unease.

“Something feels off,” Natasha murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Steve nodded. “Stay sharp.”

They reached the central hub of the base and began downloading files. The room was eerily silent except for the faint hum of the computers.

That’s when Sam spoke up, his voice sharp. “Uh, guys? We’ve got a problem.”

He pointed to the screen. The files they were retrieving detailed a series of reports—about a mole. Someone who had been feeding HYDRA information from inside SHIELD.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “This is recent.”

“Too recent,” Bucky said, his voice tight.

A sudden sound broke the silence: the sharp crack of a sniper rifle.

Steve grunted in pain as a bullet tore through his shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground. Sam caught him before he could fall, blood seeping through his suit.

“Sniper!” Natasha barked, taking cover.

Bucky’s head snapped toward the source of the shot—a rooftop across the compound. Even at a distance, he recognized the figure perched there, the rifle steady in their hands.

It was you.

His blood ran cold as you lined up another shot, your movements precise, almost mechanical. He barely recognized you in the dark tactical gear, your face cold and unfeeling, but there was no mistaking it.

It was like staring at a ghost.

“Y/N,” he muttered under his breath.

“Barnes, go!” Natasha ordered, firing back toward the rooftop to cover him.

Bucky didn’t hesitate. He sprinted through the chaos, weaving between gunfire and debris, his focus locked on you.

The rooftop was deserted when he arrived, save for you. You stood there, rifle slung over your shoulder, watching him approach with an air of calm indifference.

“Bucky,” you said, your voice devoid of warmth. “I was wondering when you’d catch up.”

He stopped a few feet away, his chest heaving with exertion and anger. “What the hell are you doing?”

You tilted your head, your expression unreadable. “My job.”

“Don’t give me that,” he snapped. “I know you. This isn’t you.”

You laughed softly, the sound sharp and bitter. “You thought you knew me. You never did.”

His jaw tightened. “You’re lying. I don’t believe this is who you are.”

“Believe what you want,” you said, your voice icy. “It doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been working for HYDRA this entire time. Every mission, every conversation—it was all a means to an end.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky spat. “I saw the way you looked at me. That wasn’t fake.”

You hesitated, just for a moment, but your expression quickly hardened. “You saw what I wanted you to see.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. “So that’s it? Everything we had—it was all a lie?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” you said, taking a step back. “You’re in my way.”

“Then you’ll have to go through me,” he said, his voice low.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you lunged, striking with calculated precision. The fight was brutal, each of you trading blows that felt as personal as they were physical.

Bucky’s metal arm deflected your strikes, but you knew his fighting style too well. You anticipated his moves, countering with the ruthless efficiency HYDRA had drilled into you.

“Why are you doing this?” he growled, blocking a kick and shoving you back.

“Because I chose HYDRA,” you said coldly, drawing a knife and slashing at him.

But even as you fought, a part of you hesitated. You could have aimed to kill, but you didn’t. And Bucky noticed.

“You’re holding back,” he said, his voice sharp. “Why?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you surged forward, your blade clashing against his metal arm. He twisted, disarming you and pinning you against the edge of the rooftop.

“End it,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

Bucky stared at you, his grip on your wrists unrelenting. “That’s what you want, right?”Bucky growled, his voice low and rough, his eyes searching yours. “You’re hoping I’ll do it, so you don’t have to keep living this lie.”

You glared at him, your breathing uneven, but your eyes betrayed a flicker of something—guilt, sorrow, regret. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know enough,” he snapped, pressing you harder against the rooftop ledge. “Enough to see this isn’t you.”

Your jaw tightened, but you didn’t struggle against his hold. “Maybe this is me,” you spat. “The person you thought you cared about? She’s gone. She never even existed.”

“Then why aren’t you fighting back?” Bucky shot back. “Why aren’t you doing what HYDRA trained you to do, huh? What’s stopping you, Y/N?”

You clenched your teeth, but the answer was sitting heavy in your chest.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Bucky’s grip on your wrists loosened slightly, his anger faltering. “You do know,” he said, softer this time. “You don’t want this. Whatever HYDRA has on you, whatever they made you think—you can walk away from it. Right now.”

You shook your head, the weight of his words too much. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is,” he insisted. “You just have to decide. Right here. Right now.”

You swallowed hard, your resolve cracking under the intensity of his gaze. For a moment, you thought about it—really thought about it. About leaving HYDRA, about what it would mean to face the consequences of your betrayal. About what it would mean to choose Bucky, and the life you could have had.

But then the cold, relentless voice of your HYDRA handler echoed in your mind. Failure meant death. Loyalty was the only path to survival.

“I can’t,” you said, your voice trembling but firm.

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his eyes filled with a mix of hurt and determination. “Then I’ll stop you,” he said, his voice low.

You braced yourself, but deep down, you didn’t resist as he moved. His metal arm locked around you, pulling you away from the ledge and forcing you to the ground. His weight pinned you down, and for the first time, you felt powerless—not because you couldn’t fight back, but because you didn’t want to.

“Go ahead,” you muttered, staring up at him. “Turn me in. Lock me up. Do whatever you have to do.”

Bucky hovered over you, breathing hard, his expression torn. “You think that’s what I want? You think I want to hurt you? Damn it, Y/N, I don’t know how to fix this.”

“You can’t,” you said simply.

Silence hung between you, the sounds of the fight below fading into the background.

Finally, Bucky let out a frustrated sigh, his grip on you tightening briefly before he let go and stood. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with a pain you couldn’t bear to meet.

“You chose HYDRA,” he said quietly, the finality in his voice cutting deep.

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you lying there on the cold rooftop.

You stayed there for a moment, staring up at the sky, your chest heaving with the weight of what had just happened. You’d made your choice, but why did it feel like you’d just lost everything?

The HYDRA base was silent except for the faint hum of machinery and the occasional clinking of boots against the steel floor. You moved through the shadows with practiced precision, planting the explosives in key locations around the facility.

This was it. The end of the line.

The flash drive containing every piece of HYDRA’s secrets rested in your pocket. You’d spent the last week gathering intel, decrypting files, and uploading sensitive information. It was all sent to one place—the Avengers.

Your betrayal of HYDRA had been quiet but absolute. By the time they realized what you’d done, it would be too late.

The last charge was set.

You stood in the central control room, the timer on the detonator in your hand. Around you, the monitors displayed images of HYDRA’s reach: global plans, sleeper agents, weapon caches. All of it, about to burn.

Your fingers brushed against the worn edges of a photograph tucked in your pocket. You pulled it out, staring at the image of you and Bucky. It was one of the few remnants of your time at the Avengers compound, a photo you hadn’t been able to destroy.

The two of you looked so happy, so… normal. You’d never deserved him, and you knew that now. But you still wished you’d had the chance to say you were sorry.

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” you whispered, tracing his face in the photo. “For everything.”

The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway outside, pulling you back to the present. You tucked the photo into your jacket and turned to face the door, your hand tightening on the detonator.

They were coming for you.

HYDRA wasn’t happy about your betrayal. They’d caught wind of your actions and sent a kill squad to take care of you. But you weren’t going down without a fight.

You ducked behind cover as bullets tore through the control room, returning fire with precise, controlled shots. The years of training they’d given you were now being used against them.

But you were outnumbered, and the strain of the fight was starting to show. Your side ached from a graze, and exhaustion weighed heavily on you.

Then, through the chaos, you heard it. The unmistakable roar of a Quinjet overhead. The Avengers. They’d gotten your message.

The HYDRA base erupted into chaos as the Avengers stormed in, taking down agents with brutal efficiency. You stayed hidden, watching from the shadows as Bucky, Steve, and Natasha led the charge.

For a brief moment, you thought about stepping out, about letting them arrest you and face whatever consequences awaited. But you knew better. HYDRA would never stop hunting you. And you couldn’t let them hurt anyone else because of you.

The fight raged on as you slipped back into the control room. You’d done your part. The Avengers had the intel, and HYDRA’s forces were crumbling.

All that was left was to finish it.

You stood in the center of the room, the detonator in your hand. Your thumb hovered over the button as you took one last look at the photo in your pocket.

You closed your eyes, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips.

“I wish I could’ve told you I loved you,” you whispered to the image of Bucky.

The door burst open behind you, and you turned to see him standing there, his metal arm glinting in the dim light. His eyes widened when he saw you, and he immediately raised his weapon.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Step away from the detonator.”

You shook your head, your heart breaking at the sight of him. “I can’t do that, Bucky.”

“You don’t have to do this,” he said, taking a cautious step forward. “You sent us the intel. HYDRA’s done. We can end this without you blowing yourself up.”

You smiled sadly. “It doesn’t end, not for me. They’ll keep coming after me, after all of you. This is the only way to stop it.”

“Don’t,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. “Please, Y/N. We can figure this out. Together.”

Your eyes softened, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine it—a life with him, free of HYDRA’s shadow. But it was only a dream, and you’d woken up long ago.

“You deserve better,” you said softly.

Before he could move, you pressed the button.

The explosion tore through the base, a blinding light swallowing everything in its path.

Bucky was thrown back by the force of the blast, his ears ringing as the world around him crumbled. He scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding as he searched for you.

But there was nothing left.

The base was gone, reduced to smoldering rubble. He stood there, staring at the destruction, his chest heaving with a mix of anger, sorrow, and disbelief.

Steve placed a hand on his shoulder, but Bucky didn’t move.

“She saved us,” Steve said quietly. “She saved everyone.”

Bucky nodded, his throat tight. He didn’t say anything, but his hand clenched around something in his pocket—the photograph he’d found in the wreckage, the edges singed but still intact.

You were gone, but in the end, you’d made your choice.

And for Bucky, that was the hardest truth of all.

The world felt quieter with HYDRA gone.

The information you had sent to the Avengers unraveled the organization completely. Their agents were arrested, their sleeper cells dismantled, and their leaders taken into custody or eliminated during the final mission. For the first time in decades, the looming threat of HYDRA had been extinguished.

But your sacrifice lingered like a shadow over the victory.

The Avengers returned to the compound in solemn silence, the weight of your actions heavy on their shoulders. The Quinjet ride back was somber, no one daring to speak, each of them lost in their thoughts.

Bucky sat in the corner, staring out the window. His hands were clenched tightly around the photograph of you that he’d salvaged from the rubble. He hadn’t spoken since the explosion, his mind replaying your final words over and over.

“You deserve better.”

A small ceremony was held at the Avengers compound a week later. The team gathered in the courtyard, a simple headstone marking your place among the fallen.

The inscription read:

“Y/N Y/L/N: In the end, she chose the light. May her courage never be forgotten.”

Natasha stood near the headstone, her face as unreadable as ever, though her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I always knew you were hiding something,” she said quietly, her voice carrying in the still air. “But I never thought you’d do something like this. You fooled us all… and in the end, you saved us.”

Steve rested a hand on Natasha’s shoulder, his own grief etched into his features. “She did the right thing,” he said softly. “Even if it cost her everything.”

Sam shook his head, his voice tinged with frustration. “Why didn’t she tell us? We could’ve helped her. She didn’t have to do it alone.”

“Maybe she thought she didn’t deserve our help,” Bruce offered, his tone gentle. “She carried this weight for so long… maybe she didn’t think we’d forgive her.”

Bucky stood apart from the group, his eyes fixed on your headstone. He hadn’t said a word all day, but the anguish on his face spoke volumes.

The team gathered later in the common room, the quiet camaraderie doing little to ease the ache of your absence.

Tony, who had stayed silent during the ceremony, finally spoke up. “You know, for someone who played double agent, she had a hell of a redemption arc.” His voice was tinged with bitterness, but there was a flicker of respect in his eyes.

“She fooled all of us,” Natasha said, her arms crossed. “But in the end, she didn’t betray us. She betrayed them.”

“That takes guts,” Sam said. “Even if she did… lie to us.”

Steve glanced at Bucky, his concern evident. “Bucky?” he asked gently. “What are you thinking?”

Bucky looked up, his eyes haunted but resolute. “She didn’t do it for herself,” he said quietly. “She did it for us. For all the people HYDRA would’ve hurt if she hadn’t stopped them.” He paused, his voice breaking slightly. “But that doesn’t make it any easier.”

Natasha placed a hand on his arm. “You cared about her,” she said softly.

“I loved her,” Bucky admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I didn’t get the chance to tell her.”

The room fell silent at his words, the weight of the loss settling over them like a shroud.

In the weeks following your death, the Avengers worked tirelessly to ensure that your sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain. The intel you had provided led to the dismantling of HYDRA’s remaining operations. Their agents were brought to justice, their influence eradicated.

But for Bucky, it wasn’t about the mission anymore. It was about you.

He often found himself at your grave, the photograph of the two of you tucked into his jacket. He’d stand there for hours, his mind replaying every moment he’d spent with you, every conversation, every laugh.

“I wish I could’ve saved you,” he whispered one evening, his voice carrying in the wind. “I wish I could’ve told you that you were worth saving.”

The photo rested in his hand as he stared at the headstone. The ache in his chest was ever-present, but there was a sliver of peace knowing that, in the end, you’d chosen to make things right.

Months later, during a routine mission, Bucky found himself staring at a HYDRA emblem etched into the wall of an abandoned base. It was faded, almost forgotten, but it reminded him of everything you had fought to destroy.

He ran his fingers over the symbol before turning to leave. As he walked away, he murmured, “I’ll keep fighting, Y/N. For you.”

And though you were gone, your actions—the courage it took to turn against the darkness—left a mark on all of them.

You had fooled them, betrayed them, and ultimately saved them.

In the end, you weren’t a hero. But you were something even rarer:

A person who found redemption.

[ncis-yp]

A place you shouldn’t be (Tony x reader)

You were a young spitfire. Threatened into military school by your father and given a choice.

“Go to college or go join the Marines. But you’re not going to act up in my house” you could faintly hear your dads voice in the background of your mind as you returned to Virginia.

You had done neither. You didn’t go to college, and you didn’t join the marines. Yet, here you were the disappointment of your fathers first marriage. Baggage that he had to carry around after your mom died.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n).” You heard your buddies voice call out as you tuned back into reality. You were back where you used to hang. A bar, where you played your very first gig when you were just 14 years old.

A younger singer with a strong voice. You could sing like no other, and the raspy, gravelly voice you had made it perfect for your band. Rock and roll, all types.

Time Skip~

You didn’t know it at the time, but your dad caught word that you were back in town and made it a point to watch you perform. But boy was he heated when he saw you.

Rockstar in the flesh. You were onstage singing your heart out. Your leather vest flying around you. Your arms covered in tattoos flexed as you moved. You were wearing a bikini top and shorts. Your eye makeup slightly smudged, and your (h/c) was a mess. But boy oh boy did you look like Shannon.

You had found a handsome man standing close to the stage. He was in a suit, it looked like he’d just got outta work. But boy was he having a good time. You locked eyes as you sang the next part of your song.

“Sweat dripping down our bodies but I’m begging for more/ got my hand on you cock with your pants on the floor/ I’m moaning out your name while you’re cursing mine/and I’ll beg you just to cum but you keep taking your time/we were just ripping off clothes 5 minutes ago/when we were just back stage after my show/you said you wanted pictures but came in for some kisses/ but don’t pull out and just make me your missus” you wink as you scream those lyrics as the band began the chorus. The man smiled and raised an eyebrow. Pretty sure he was now in love with you.

Your father on the other hand was furious. Those lyrics and the way your body was moving in stage. God would he love to hear what you had to say. Once your show ended you made your way to the man you were looking at.

“Hey there” he says.

“Hey” you responded smirking.

“Great set up there. You are a really good singer” he raised his drink slightly.

“Ha ha thank you!” You smile deeply.

“Tony.” He said. “That’s my name. And yours, or and I just supposed to call you little miss Rockstar?”

You giggled at his joke “No the names (y/n)”

“Wow. That fits you perfectly” he chuckles. “I’ve heard your band play before… I was super happy to hear about the show close by so I had to make it”

“Yeah had to play a show here, I grew up close by here.“ You reply.

“Well that’s fucking awesome! If you’re around a few more days we should hang… maybe get some drinks” Tony winks. “And maybe some truth to those lyrics you sang to me earlier” he winked.

“Of course of course” he handed you a pen and write your number on the napkin he handed you. You kissed his cheek before placing the pen back in his hand. “Nice meeting you, Tony. Call me” you walk away.

The next day~

You waltz into NCIS, your visitors pass shiny as you approached your dad’s bullpen area. You hadn’t been at that place in at least 6 years.

“If you were in my house you’d be grounded” his voice thundered as you turned to face him.

“Nice to see you too, Dad”

“Those words were disgusting” he says. “You looked awful. I have $5 that says you reeked of beer and cocaine while you were up there” he continues.

“Yeah and I have $500 that says I’m clean” you fire back casually. “I missed you”

“Come back home and you’re grounded, (y/n), grounded”

“I’m 24” you yawned.

“This is exactly what I didn’t want” he throws up his hands.

“I’m cool” you reply defensively. “The kids get down with me and I’m ducking awesome”

“No. You’re not “cool” or “fucking awesome” (y/n)… you could be the next… I don’t know! OZZY OSBORNE”

“Hey hey, he’s cool as fuck!! Met him once”

“This is a joke to you.” He said sourly.

“Hey boss bad time?” You saw Tony walk up.

“Tony”

“(Y/n)?” He says. “What’re you doing here?”

“My dad works here” you point at Gibbs.

“Sure im your dad?” Gibbs stalks away.

Time skip~

You and Tony had decided to grab lunch. As you sat and told him the story of you and your dad he listened intently. Asking questions every so often, as he did so.

“Well, thank you so much for lunch” Tony said as he walked you to your car. “I never knew this Thai place existed.”

You laughed “yeah, I used to love it” you say stopping at your car. In a fit of impulse Tony pushed his lips onto yours. You kissed back roughly as your tongues fought for dominance, Tony pulled one of your legs up and gained domain of your mouth. You unlocked the door and fell inside the back seat, Tony falling on top of you. He closed the door behind him.

The pair of you wasted barely any time with foreplay as you palmed his erection. Tongues mangled together Tony roughly jammed his hand in your pants, teasing your folds.

“Can I do this?” His voice came out in a quiver. He was getting progressively hornier as the two of you went through your motions.

“Yeah, but don’t stop once you start” you whisper kissing his neck. His fingers plunged deep into your core, you moaned as you soaked his fingers.

“FffUCK (y/n)” he sighed as you played with his dick. You rapidly undid his belt. “Do you have a favorite position? Tell me what you want. I wanna please you the way you wanna be pleased”

“Doggy style and slut me out” you say pulling down your shorts. You flipped over and almost instantly Tony’s dick was pumping in and out of you. Your back arched as he roughly pounded into you.

“Oh my god” you heard him groan as he fucked.

“Fuck you feel so good” you say as you further arched your back seeking more. “Oh my god, Tony” you moan. He places a hand on your back as he fucks you. You could admit it… fucking in the backseat was uncomfortable to say the least, but FUCK did he feel so good he made it feel worth it.

Your moans, Tony’s curses, and the sound of dick slapping skin were the only sounds you could hear in your delicate musicians ears. Your ass bounced against his thighs as his dick plowed into you. Again and again and again.

“Fuck (y/n)” he groaned. “I’m so close”

“Me too, please don’t stop” you breathe out. Your breathe getting rapid and moans getting higher as your pussy throbbed around his dick.

“Fuck fuck fuck” he moans gutterally as he comes deeply inside of you. His orgasm sending you right over the edge. He rode out out orgasm and pulled out of you, allowing your body to fall back against his as you both breathed heavily.

“Im so sorry” he said as he gently rubbed your arm.

“For what?” You responded grabbing some the baby wipes you carried in your car, passing him some before beginning clean yourself. He took your hand away and started cleaning you himself.

“I came inside you. I’ll buy you a Plan B if you want… or we can talk about having it… I don’t know, it’s whatever you want to do, I’m just sorry I-“

“Hey, relax.” You say softly grabbing his hand. His eyes darted to you. “I’m in birth control. You don’t have to worry about that okay?”

“Okay” he nodded kissing your forehead.

Once the two of you were cleaned up Tony stood in the door way of the drivers side as you buckled your seat belt.

“So dinner?” He asked. You pulled him closed to you but his belt loops.

“Dinner with you?” He nods bending down to your level. “Of course” you kiss his lips softly.

“Okay sounds good.” He says. “Drive safe beautiful”

“Thanks handsome” you giggled as you pull out.

[snowseasonmademe]

A Beloved Reunion

word count: 8,275

warning ‼️: smut !

paring: levi x black female reader

summary: levi come home after being away for what feels like an eternity and you both properly welcome him home.

note: hi everyone! here’s my first levi fic. i know it’s long yall but it’s real good (😏). thanks to the anon who asked me to wrote this. it actually took a lot longer than i thought it would but i like writing anyway so it’s okay. as i said in my last post im gonna go for a bit because the people on this app are insane. one of my moots had to leave completely and im really upset about it. nobody should ever be doxxed over a football debate. anyway y’all, enjoy this super sweet lover boy levi. and ofc tell me what you think !

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of the front door opening was soft, almost hesitant, but it yanked you out of your restless sleep. For a moment, you thought you were imagining things, but then the creak of the floorboards—that familiar creak—sent a jolt through you. Your heart raced as realization sank in: Levi was home.

You threw the duvet off, feet barely brushing the floor as you padded quickly toward the living room. Outside, rain pattered against the windows, its rhythmic drumming a perfect backdrop to the storm of emotions brewing inside you. Twelve days. Twelve long days without him. The ache of his absence had been a constant companion, and now, finally, it was over.

When you saw him standing there, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his dark curls slightly mussed, you froze. He looked… different. His shoulders, already broad, seemed even wider, stretching the fabric of his hoodie. His chest looked fuller, tapering down to a trim waist that hinted at hours in the gym. Even his arms—strong before—seemed impossibly bigger now, the sleeves of his hoodie hugging them snugly. You stared, unblinking, as your gaze trailed down the sharp cut of his jaw, now more defined, the slight scruff on his face only adding to his rugged appeal.

"Hi my love" he said, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

You didn't respond immediately, your brain still catching up with your heart. He looked… good. Better than good. He looked like every fantasy you'd conjured in his absence, but somehow even better. He wasn't just Levi; he was Levi 2.0, impossibly more attractive, and the sight of him left your mouth dry.

When you finally moved, it was instinctive. You closed the distance between you in a few quick strides, throwing your arms around his waist and pressing yourself against him. His bag hit the floor with a heavy thud, and his arms were around you just as quickly, holding you tightly. His body was firm, solid in a way that made you feel safe and something more… something hotter.

He buried his face into your neck, his warm breath brushing your skin as he inhaled deeply. "God I missed you" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

"Twelve days" you whispered, your voice trembling as your hands roamed over his back, the muscles there impossibly hard beneath his hoodie. "It felt like a year."

"Never again" he promised, his lips brushing your skin. "I mean it babe. I'm not going that long without you. I barely slept."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands framing your face. His thumbs stroked your cheeks as if to memorize your touch all over again. His brown eyes, soft and glassy with emotion, searched yours. "God I missed you" he said again, his voice raw. "I missed everything about you."

You let your fingers trace the curve of his jawline, noting how much sharper it felt, and how his cheekbones stood out just a bit more. "Missed you too baby" you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Then, unable to help yourself, you added, "But you've been busy lifting semi-trucks, haven't you? Look at you—what are they feeding you on during training?"

His grin was sheepish, but his eyes sparkled with warmth. "You like it?" he teased, stepping back slightly to flex his arm. The movement was playful, and sexy. The way his bicep strained against the fabric of his hoodie made your breath hitch.

"Like it?" you repeated, the heat in your tone unmistakable as your gaze shamelessly roamed his frame. "I love it."

His grin widened, and he closed the space between you again, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. "I was hoping you'd notice" he said softly, his voice laced with amusement.

"Notice?" You gave him a teasing smirk, though your pulse was racing. "Baby it's hard not to notice."

The way you said it—low and full of heat—made him chuckle, though a faint blush crept up his neck. "Alright, alright" he said, shaking his head but clearly pleased. "Let me shower first. I smell like plane air."

You tilted your head, giving him an exaggerated sniff. "Yeah, you do" you teased, though the playful glint in your eyes softened with longing. "Go on then. Twenty minutes tops."

"I’ll make it eighteen" he promised, already heading toward the bathroom. But before disappearing through the doorway, he turned back, catching you staring at him with a look that made his smirk return. And as he disappeared, you found yourself biting your lip, heart pounding. If Levi thought you'd missed him before, he had no idea just how much you missed all of him now.

When he returned, the sight of him stole your breath. His skin was still damp from the shower, a few rogue droplets clinging to the sharp lines of his collarbone and trailing down his chest, disappearing beneath the crisp white T-shirt that clung to him like a second skin. His hair was darker now, wet and curling at the edges, framing his sharp temples in a way that made your stomach flutter. He looked like a dream—one so vivid it felt impossible to look away.

The shirt, stretched over his impossibly broad shoulders and snug against the defined ridges of his chest, left little to the imagination. It was unfair, really, how good he looked—bigger, stronger, and somehow even more magnetic than before. Your gaze shamelessly roamed his frame, lingering on the way his forearms flexed as he wiped his hand over his face, brushing away the lingering wetness from his shower. Even the slight scruff along his jaw, dark and rugged, only added to the devastating effect he had on you.

Heat rushed to your cheeks as you drank him in, your pulse quickening with each second you spent staring. It was almost ridiculous how turned on you were, how seeing him like this—freshly showered, built like a work of art, and effortlessly beautiful—sent a wave of longing crashing over you. Your fingers tightened around the duvet as you tried to keep your composure, but it was useless. He was yours, and right now, all you wanted was to feel him, to have him.

Without hesitation, Levi crawled into bed beside you, pulling you close as though you were the only thing tethering him to the earth. The warmth of his freshly showered skin seeped into you, and the clean, masculine scent of his soap made your head spin. Your cheek rested against his chest, the firm muscle beneath rising and falling steadily, but the feeling of his body—newly bulked and impossibly solid—was making it hard to focus on anything else.

"You're not allowed to leave me again" he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head as his arm curled possessively around you. "I don't care if the Queen herself calls you. You're staying right here."

His voice was low, rough with fatigue, but there was an unmistakable edge of need in it. You let out a soft laugh, your fingers trailing over the planes of his chest. The shirt was no barrier to the heat of him, nor the way the muscles shifted beneath your touch. "And here I thought you were the busy one" you teased, though your voice betrayed how distracted you were by the sheer physicality of him.

"Don't care" he muttered, his grip tightening as he pressed a kiss into your hair. "We'll figure it out. I'm not sleeping without you again babe. It was torture."

You tilted your head to look up at him, your hand sliding up to cup his cheek. His jawline, more defined than ever, felt sharp beneath your fingers, and the slight scruff there added a ruggedness that made your heart race. "You're so clingy" you teased softly, though your pulse was hammering.

"Just making up for lost time" he countered with a smirk, his brown eyes glinting as he leaned down to press his lips to yours. The kiss started slow, his lips warm and soft against yours. He kissed you like he was rediscovering every inch of you, savoring the way you fit against him, the way your lips moved together. You pulled back, admiring how sexy he was, even when he was exhausted.

"What are you looking at?" he asked sarcastically. "I'm looking at you Levi, you look so good right now….It's a problem. How am I supposed to focus when you look this good?". His laughter was soft, rumbling in his chest as he tightened his hold on you. "Good thing you don't need to focus right now" he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. "Just relax love. I'm not going anywhere."

But relaxing was easier said than done with him this close, his freshly showered skin warm against yours, and the scent of his soap—clean and masculine—making your head spin. Your fingers couldn't stop exploring, tracing over every ridge and curve as if memorizing him all over again. It was impossible not to notice how much bigger he felt, how every part of him seemed stronger, harder.

"You're dangerous, you know that?" you whispered, tilting your head to look up at him.

"Dangerous?" he repeated, his brow arching playfully.

"For my sanity" you clarified, though your voice trembled with the depth of your desire.

His gaze softened, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. "You're the one driving me mad" he murmured against your mouth, his voice rough with emotion. "You have no idea how much I missed you."

And just like that, the teasing gave way to something deeper, more urgent. His kisses deepened, the slow burn of longing igniting between you, and every touch, every whispered word, reminded you that he was yours—stronger, more beautiful, and impossibly more irresistible than ever.

When you pulled back, slightly breathless, he whispered, "I love you. So much. It actually hurts being away from you."

His voice cracked slightly on the last word, and it made your chest ache. "I love you too" you murmured, your fingers tangling in his curls. They were softer than you expected, and you couldn't resist tugging lightly, just to feel the way he melted into your touch. "More than anything."

His kisses deepened, the feeling of yearning changed into something more urgent. His hands roamed your body with a reverence that made your heart ache, as if he were memorizing every curve, every dip. The feel of his larger, stronger hands on your waist sent a wave of heat through you, and you couldn't stop yourself from pressing closer.

"I need you" he breathed against your skin, his voice thick with raw emotion. "I need you, baby. Right now. Please."

There was something almost desperate in his tone, a vulnerability that made your chest tighten. "I'm yours" you whispered, your voice barely audible as your lips brushed his. "I'm right here"

His response was a low, guttural sound as he kissed you again, this time with a hunger that left you trembling. His hands explored you with a tenderness that belied the strength behind them, mapping every inch of your body like he was relearning you after too long apart. His lips pressed soft, heated kisses along your neck, his whispered words of love and longing sending shivers down your spine.

"Every damn night, I missed this. Missed you. Missed your touch, your smell, the way you feel…"

"I thought about this every night" he confessed between kisses, his voice rough. His words trailed off as his lips found yours again, his hands cradling your face as though you were the most precious thing in the world. He kissed you with an intensity that left no doubt of how much he'd missed you, his body pressing against yours in a way that made you ache for him. The heat between you grew with every press of his lips, every sweep of his tongue against yours. It wasn't rushed—if anything, it felt intentional, as though he wanted to savor every second of this moment after being apart for so long.

The rain outside created a soft, rhythmic melody, its steady patter a comforting contrast to the rising tension in the room. Levi shifted slightly, leaning over you, his hand slipping to your waist as he deepened the kiss. His thumb brushed the bare skin just above your hip, sending shivers through you. The weight of his body pressing against yours was grounding, his strength and warmth a stark reminder of just how much you'd missed him.

When he finally pulled back, both of you slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. His warm, brown eyes searched yours, filled with something raw and unfiltered. "I love you" he whispered, his voice low and full of yearning. "I don't think I even realized how much I need you until I didn't have you."

His words made your chest tighten, and you reached up to cup his face, your thumbs brushing the sharp line of his jaw. "You have me now" you whispered back, your voice trembling with emotion. "I love you too Levi"

Levi exhaled slowly as if grounding himself in your words. He kissed you again, this time even slower, even gentler, his lips exploring yours with a reverence that made you drip. His hands moved to cradle the sides of your neck, his thumbs brushing over your pulse points. It felt as though he wanted to feel every part of you, as though he couldn't get close enough.

The warmth of his freshly showered skin seeped into yours as he shifted again, his body settling more fully against you. One of his hands slid down your side, his palm wide and firm as it mapped the curve of your waist. When his fingers skimmed the bare skin beneath the hem of your oversized T-shirt, you felt a jolt of heat spark through you.

"You're unreal" he murmured, his voice rough, his gaze locked onto yours. The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world—made you feel both cherished and desired in a way that left you breathless.

His lips returned to yours, trailing kisses down your jaw and neck, taking his time as he lingered over the sensitive spots that made you shiver. You could feel his body tensing against you, the strength in his arms caging you in without ever making you feel trapped. His kisses grew hungrier, the gentle pressure of his lips giving way to something deeper, more demanding.

His strong hands pushed the hem of your—his—oversized T-shirt up, revealing the soft skin of your bare torso. The room's cool air contrasted deliciously with his touch's heat, making you shiver. His fingers brushed along your sides, pausing just below your ribs, before sliding down to the waistband of your panties. He hooked a finger under the fabric and pushed them down with extreme leisure, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you feel utterly exposed and completely worshipped all at once.

He stilled for a moment, his calloused fingertips tracing lazy patterns on your inner thighs, sending shivers coursing through your body. His touch was featherlight, as if savoring the feel of your skin beneath his hands, but the intensity in his eyes told a different story. His gaze flicked downward, lingering where his hands rested just shy of where you wanted him most. When his eyes finally met yours again, they were darker than you'd ever seen them, filled with an unmistakable hunger that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

You felt utterly exposed under his gaze, his presence overwhelming in the most intoxicating way. The sound of the rain against the window faded into the background, leaving only the rhythm of your breaths and the electric tension between you. His thumb shifted slightly, brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and your breath hitched. You felt like a tightly coiled spring, every nerve ending attuned to him, waiting, aching for his next move.

Levi's chest rose and fell heavily as he stared at you, his lips slightly parted. The air between you crackled with anticipation, and you could see the subtle clench of his jaw as if he was holding himself back. "You're perfect" he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I don't think you understand what you do to me."

His words sent a flush of heat through you, and your thighs instinctively pressed together, desperate for some kind of relief. But Levi's hands immediately slid to your knees, gently prying them apart as his gaze pinned you in place. "No" he said softly but firmly, his voice thick with desire. "Don't hide from me. Let me see you."

The vulnerability in the moment made your pulse race, but the intensity of his gaze—filled with reverence and raw need—gave you the courage to relax under his touch. His hands slid back up your thighs, this time with more purpose, the pads of his fingers pressing into your skin in a way that left you trembling. He leaned down, his broad shoulders framing your view, his curls brushing against your bare thighs as he moved closer.

The first brush of his lips against the inside of your thigh made you gasp, the warmth of his mouth contrasting with the cool air of the room. He took his time, placing wet kisses along your skin, his scruff adding an edge of roughness that sent sparks shooting through you. Each kiss brought him closer to where you needed him, but he never rushed, savoring every inch of you as though you were the most precious thing he'd ever touched.

"Levi" you whispered, your voice barely audible, but he heard you. He glanced up, his eyes locking with yours, and the corner of his mouth lifted in the faintest smirk.

"Be patient with me baby" he said, his voice a low rasp that sent a shiver through you. "I've waited twelve days for this. I'm gonna take my time."

His words hung in the air, thick with promise, as his hands moved to your hips, grounding you beneath his touch. He exhaled, his warm breath ghosting over your most sensitive spot, and your body reacted instantly, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

"Fuck I missed this pretty pussy baby" he rasped, his voice vibrating against your skin as he finally leaned in. His warm breath fanned over your pussy, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. His hands, now firm and steady, rested on your stomach, holding you in place as he finally gave in to his need for you.

His first lick was soft, almost teasing—just a gentle swipe over your sensitive bundle of nerves, as if testing the waters. Your body shuddered in response, a throaty moan spilling from your lips before you could stop it. He smiled against your clit, the curve of his lips wicked and full of intent.

"You taste even better than I remembered" he murmured, his voice low and husky, the vibrations of his words sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

Your breath hitched, your fingers gripping the sheets as he pressed his tongue flat against you, dragging it slowly from your entrance to your clit. The pace was maddening, his every movement calculated to unravel you. He delved deeper, parting your folds with his tongue to taste every inch of you, like a man savoring the thing he craved most in the world.

He groaned against your skin, his hands gripping your thighs firmly to hold you in place.

"Mmmm” You whimpered, your body trembling as he took his time exploring you. Each swipe of his tongue was precise, teasing and torturous in equal measure. His hands slid upward, fingers splaying over your hips before making their way to your breasts. He cupped them gently, his thumbs circling your nipples in time with the strokes of his tongue, doubling the pleasure coursing through your body.

"Oh Please" you gasped, your hands flying to his hair, desperate to anchor yourself as your hips bucked against his mouth. "I need more- I need you inside. Please. I missed you. I just want to feel you baby"

His groan was guttural, the weight of your words spurring him on. He curled his fingers under your thighs, pulling your legs further over his shoulders to open you up completely. "Fuck, I love hearing you say that" he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. His lips returned to your clit, this time sucking gently before releasing it with a wet pop that had you crying out. His tongue worked in small circles, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from you while his hands gripped your thighs with enough force to leave marks.

"You're so beautiful like this" he said between licks, his voice laced with awe. "Open up a little bit more for me". You did. You spread your legs wider than before, letting him taste even more of you.

You could barely form words, your body arching against him as the tension in your core built to an almost unbearable peak. "Please, don't stop. Don't tease me… I'm so close." you stammered, your voice breaking with need.

He slowed his pace , his lips ghosting over your clit instead of diving back in. "Not yet" he murmured with a smirk, his eyes dark with a mix of love and hunger as he looked up at you. "I want to take my time"

His tongue flicked over you again, this time paired with the scrape of his teeth—a sensation so unexpected and electrifying that it left you gasping. "Say it" he demanded softly, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pressed closer. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours" you choked out, your voice trembling with desperation. "I've always been yours. I'll always be yours. Just—please—don't make me wait any longer."

His groan vibrated against you, the sound dripping with triumph and desire. "That's my girl" he whispered before his mouth returned to you with renewed purpose, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony to drive you over the edge. This time, he didn't stop—didn't back off—giving you everything you needed, everything you'd been yearning for.

And when you shattered beneath him, your cries filling the room, he held you tighter, drinking in every sound, every tremor, as though he needed it just as much as you. You tried pushing his head away, to stop you from being overstimulated but, he didnt move.

"Wait, Im not done yet baby" he murmured against your core, his voice a low rumble that sent vibrations straight through you. His warm breath fanned over your most sensitive place, making your thighs tremble. "I'm not done tasting you yet. I need more" His lips pressed a lingering kiss against your clit, soft and reverent, before he dipped back down, his tongue thrusting deep inside you.

The movement was steady at first, his tongue curling up to press against that spot that made your hips buck uncontrollably. A low groan escaped him as he felt your body respond, his hands tightening on your thighs to hold you in place. "Taste so good" he whispered, the words barely audible over the wet sounds of his mouth working against you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently, desperate for more. "Please" you gasped, your voice trembling. "Don't stop… please don't stop."

He glanced up at you, his eyes dark with hunger but soft with affection. One of his hands slid upward, his fingers pinching your nipple softly, sending shocks of pleasure through you. The other hand trailed down to your entrance, teasing you with just the tip of his finger, slipping inside briefly before pulling back again. He chuckled low in his throat at the way your hips sought him out, your need for him evident. His mouth resumed its heavenly rhythm, alternating between gentle sucking and firm pressure with his tongue. The sensations overwhelmed you, every nerve ending alight with pleasure as his skilled mouth worked you closer and closer to the edge.

"I really need you" you whimpered, your voice breathless as your hips arched toward him. "I've missed this so much. I've missed you. Please—" His pace quickened in response, his mouth firm against you now, his tongue moving in tandem with the finger he finally pushed inside you. He curled it just right, coaxing cries of pleasure from your lips, before adding a second finger, stretching you in the most delicious way.

"Oh my god yes" you cried out, your voice trembling with desperation. "Oh Im gonna cum, Im gonna cum". The raw need in your voice pushed him further. He moved one hand to press firmly against your lower belly, angling you perfectly to feel every flick of his tongue and stroke of his fingers. "That's it" he urged, his voice thick with satisfaction as he buried his face between your thighs. “Give it to me."

His nose pressed against your clit as he lapped furiously, his fingers pumping in and out with a rhythm so precise it left you helpless against the onslaught of pleasure. Your body began to tremble uncontrollably, your thighs quivering against his shoulders as your orgasm built impossibly high.

And then it hit you, the wave of pleasure crashing over you so intensely that it left you crying out his name, your back arching completely off the bed. Your entire body convulsed, wave after wave of ecstasy wracking you as your vision blurred and whitened. His name was the only word you could manage as your pussy clenched around his fingers, dripping against his mouth as he continued to devour you, drawing out every last spasm of pleasure.

When you finally stilled, trembling and spent, he kissed your inner thigh softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your hips. "Fucking delicious" he murmured, his voice filled with pride and love. You couldn't speak, your chest heaving as you reached for him, needing his warmth, his touch, his everything. And he was there, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close as you basked in the aftershocks of his love and devotion.

As the final tremors of your orgasm subsided, he licked his lips, savoring your taste like the finest dessert. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, dark and filled with a mix of pride and unrestrained desire as if your pleasure alone had completely unraveled him. With loving care, he lowered your legs from his shoulders, his large hands steadying you as though you were something fragile and sacred. He pressed tender kisses along your inner thighs, his lips lingering against your heated skin as he murmured something soft and inaudible, more to himself than to you

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your body still trembling from the intensity of what he'd just done to you. Levi leaned back slightly, his hands never leaving your body as his fingertips traced lazy, soothing patterns over your thighs and hips. The contrast between his earlier hunger and the gentle reverence in his touch now left you breathless all over again. His gaze roamed over you, taking in every inch of your flushed skin, your tousled hair, and the way your chest rose and fell with each shallow breath.

"You're so sexy" he said, his voice low and hoarse. The raw honesty in his tone made your heart swell, and your cheeks flushed under his unwavering attention. He reached up, brushing a damp curl from your forehead before leaning down to kiss you—soft and unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world to show you how much he adored you. He layed on top of you, kissing your lips, making you taste yourself. In that moment your heart swelled. You couldnt ask for anything more, or better.

When he pulled back, his lips hovered just above yours, and his hand slid down to your thigh, his fingers pressing into your skin as though grounding himself in the reality of you. "Lift your legs" he said softly, the rough edge to his voice making your breath hitch.

The command, quiet but laced with authority, sent a spark of heat racing through you. You listened without hesitation, lifting your legs to the sides of his hips and letting him guide you. You were so wrapped up in the feeling of his lips on yours and the taste of yourself in your mouth that you didn't feel him slightly slide down his boxers and take his rock-hard dick out. His hands steadied you as he shifted, his broad shoulders blocking out the dim light as he positioned himself. He was unrushed in his movements, taking a moment to truly appreciate the sight of you. His gaze swept over your half-naked form, his eyes dark with desire as they lingered on the curves of your body, the sheen of sweat on your skin, the way your lips parted in anticipation. He took himself in hand, the head of his dick brushing against your sensitive entrance, and the sensation made your breath hitch.

He paused for just a moment, his gaze locking onto yours. "You okay baby?" he asked, his tone soft but tinged with urgency, as though he needed your reassurance before taking the next step.

You nodded, your voice trembling as you whispered, "Yes, Levi. Please."

That was all he needed. He would usually be a bit faster but this time he slowly pushed into you, his movements controlled, stretching and filling you in a way that felt different.

Did his dick get bigger too? It feels like our first time again. you thought to yourself

Levi groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping your thighs in the overwhelming sensation of being joined with you again.

Once he was fully inside you, he paused, letting you both adjust. His eyes never left yours, and the sheer intensity in his gaze made you feel utterly consumed. He exhaled, his breath brushing against your skin as he leaned down, shifting to be on top and settling his weight against you. His chest pressed against yours, warm and solid, as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the sound of the rain outside mingling with the quiet gasps of shared breaths. It was intimate, vulnerable, and overwhelming in the best possible way—two souls finding their way back to one another after far too long apart.

The heat radiating from his body enveloped you, pulling you into the kind of warmth that made your toes curl and your heart race. His weight pressed you into the mattress in the most delicious way, his broad frame covering you completely as he settled between your legs. The soft fabric of his boxers brushed against your bare skin, the teasing friction against your ass making you gasp.

He began to move agonizingly slowly. Each movement sent delicious friction coursing through your body, his hardness sliding perfectly against your slickness, his teasing making your walls clench in anticipation. The pace was calm, building a steady burn that left you craving him with every passing second. Your hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him even closer to you, your nails digging into his warm skin as you tried to pull him closer, but Levi held his ground, maintaining his torturous rhythm.

His lips found the curve of your neck, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin before his mouth pressed soft, lingering kisses there. Each kiss sent waves of heat through you, his lips exploring the sensitive spots he knew so well. He moved lower, his teeth grazing the delicate skin just above your collarbone before he sucked gently, the sharp contrast of pleasure and pain making you moan.

"Levi" you gasped, your voice shaky, as your fingers tangled in his curls.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration adding to the overload of sensations. "Hmm, you like that?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing, the deep timbre making your stomach flutter.

Before you could respond, he kissed the spot again, sucking harder this time, marking you in a way that left no doubt you were his. His hand slid up your side, his fingertips brushing along your ribs before settling just under your breast, his thumb tracing circles that sent sparks shooting through your body.

"You're so soft" he whispered, his lips moving against your skin as his hips rocked against you again, this time with a little more pressure. "Every damn night, I missed this." The combination of his words, his movements, and the heat of his body drove you wild. Your body arched against him, desperate for more, for all of him, but he continued his torturous pace, his control unshakable. The teasing friction, the possessive marks he left on your skin, and the low, reverent tone of his voice had you trembling beneath him, completely at his mercy.

Levi gently took your hands, his grip firm but tender, and guided them above your head, pressing them into the pillow. The dominance in the gesture sent a shiver down your spine, but the way his fingers intertwined with yours and held them gently grounded you in the warmth of his touch. His dark eyes bore into yours, his expression softening despite the commanding hold. He leaned in, so close that his breath mingled with yours, his forehead brushing against yours as he murmured, "Keep your hands here, okay?"

The tenderness in his voice made your chest tighten, his tone dripping with both care and desire. He rubbed soothing circles on your knuckles with his thumb, as if to remind you that he had you, that you were safe in his hands. "I need you to stay like this" he whispered, his voice dropping an octave, laced with yearning. His forehead pressed more firmly against yours, his lips grazing your nose in the most delicate of touches.

His words, spoken so softly yet so full of need, sent heat rushing through you. You nodded, your breath hitching, but before you could say anything, Levi kissed you. It wasn't rushed or desperate—it was consuming, the kind of kiss that made you forget the rest of the world existed.

Then he began to move again. His thrusts were slow but deep, each one filling you completely, making your back arch and your breath catch. The contrast between the commanding way he held your hands and the loving, almost worshipful way he gazed at you had your head spinning. He released one of his hands only usinf one to hold bothof yours. His free hand moved to your cheek, the calloused pad of his thumb brushing away a stray lock of hair as though he couldn't bear for anything to obscure his view of you.

"Look at me" he murmured, his tone both pleading and reverent. You quickly unrolled your eyes from the back of your head and locked eyes with him. His hips pressed into yours again, this time, the depth of each movement making you gasp. "Let me see you baby."

His eyes never left yours, their intensity making your heart race. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion, as though the words weren't enough to convey how he felt. His gaze softened even further as he took you in, his body moving in perfect rhythm with yours, his love for you shining through every touch, every whispered word.

"I missed you so much" he confessed once again, his voice cracking slightly as he leaned in to kiss the corner of your mouth. "Twelve days without this, without you… was hell."

His hand moved from your cheek, trailing down to your jawline and then your neck, his fingers grazing your pulse point where your heart raced for him. "I love you" he whispered, his voice shaking with vulnerability. "More than anything."

The way he spoke, his words saturated with need and adoration, made you feel cherished in a way that went beyond the physical. You tightened your hands instinctively beneath his hold, wanting to pull him closer, but he chuckled softly, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Uh uh" he murmured, his tone teasing but firm. "Hands stay right there love. Let me take care of you."

And he did—each movement, each whispered declaration, each soft press of his lips against your skin, all of it reminded you of the depth of his love. Levi wasn't just making love to you; he was pouring his soul into every moment, making sure you felt exactly how much he'd missed you, how much he adored you, and how deeply he was yours.

Levi's grip on your hands remained firm but tender, his long fingers intertwined with yours as if anchoring you to him. The contrast between his soft touch and the powerful way he moved within you sent shivers down your spine. He held you steady, his body pressed tightly against yours, every roll of his hips passionate and claiming. His forehead dropped to yours, his warm breath mingling with yours, and the raw emotion in his eyes nearly brought tears to your own.

"Uuuhh, I missed you so fucking much Levi" you whispered, you voice hoarse and trembling with a need so intense it made his chest tighten. His lips brushed against yours, the kiss soft, almost reverent, as if he couldn't believe you were finally here with him. His thrusts sped up, his body pressing into yours with an unrelenting sweetness that made your toes curl and your mind blank.

Your breath hitched as he filled you completely, his hard length hitting the deepest, most sensitive parts of you. The pleasure was overwhelming, spreading through your body in waves that left you gasping for air. A soft whimper escaped your lips, your body arching to meet his, and Levi wasted no time capturing the sound with his mouth.

Your lips molded against his in a kiss that was velvety and consuming, your tongue brushing against his as he swallowed every little sound of pleasure you made. You kissed him like it was the only way to express the depths of your love, pouring everything you couldn't say into the way his lips moved against yours.

"You feel so good inside me baby" you murmured against his lips, your voice cracking slightly as if you were unable to put into words how intense your feelings were. Each thrust was faster and deeper, his body moving in unison with yours in an almost hypnotic rhythm. His eyes locked onto yours with a desperation that made your heart palpitate as he pressed his forehead against yours again. His gaze filled with nothing but adoration and yearning left you speechless. He tightened his hold on your hands, his tone possessive but full of love. squeezing them gently as if grounding himself in your presence

Every word, every kiss, every movement of his body felt like a promise—a reminder of how deeply he loved and needed you. The intensity of his emotions, combined with the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you, left you trembling beneath him, completely and irrevocably his.

He suddenly picked up his pace, his throbbing dick slamming into your pussy with passion. All you could do was lay there and take it. But this is exactly what you've been craving. The love of your life giving you impossible amounts of pleasure. The sounds coming from both of you were borderline otherworldly. The sounds of the rain on the windows. The extremely dim room. Your sweat mixed with his. Your arousal fluids are all over his lower body. It was something straight out of a movie.

He dipped his head, capturing your lips in a kiss so achingly slow it felt like time itself stopped. Each movement of his mouth against yours spoke of longing, devotion, and the kind of love that seared itself into your soul.

"Oh God Levi, why are you fucking me like this?" you cry out in desperation. "Mmm because I love you, so much….fuck" he moans right against your ear, whispering a curse at the end.

His hips continued grinding inside and out. Long hard strokes to your inner walls. The tension between you built with every breath, every whispered word.

The intensity of your feelings washed over you, leaving you breathless and completely undone. His rhythm quickened slightly, and your hands clung to him, nails digging into his back as if afraid he might disappear. Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes as his words and actions intertwined, leaving no part of you untouched by his devotion. You felt completely loved, and completely his in this moment. Every breath you took seemed to draw him deeper into your soul, binding you to him in ways words could never capture.

"Its okay baby, dont cry" His voice was soft but laced with unshakable certainty, like a vow that reached into the very fabric of your being. He kissed the tears from your cheeks, each touch as tender as it was consuming, his lips trailing down to your jaw, then back to your mouth.

The kiss he gave you then was slower, filled with a yearning so potent it stole the air from your lungs. You gasped against him, the sound swallowed by his lips as his body pressed into yours with renewed urgency. His hand slid down your side, possessive yet gentle, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

Sensing your trembling, he paused, his lips brushing against your temple as he murmured, "I can feel you" he murmured, his forehead pressing against yours as he gazed into your eyes. He let go of your hands and immediatly moved his hands to hook under your shoulders.

Your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. "Uuh yes just like that, so so good" you cried out, rolling your eyes back, your voice catching as his hips rocked into you. Something shifted in him then, his need for you sharpening like a blade. He groaned low in his throat, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that left you trembling. His fingers slid over your clit, the sensation sent a jolt of electricity through you, pulling a moan from deep within your chest.

"Cum for me Y/n" he whispered, his voice rough yet sweet as honey, his words spilling directly into your heart. The heat in his gaze was matched only by the tenderness in his touch. His movements grew more urgent, his hips driving into you with deep, purposeful thrusts that left no doubt of his devotion.

His fingers worked in perfect sync with his body, unrelenting, every motion designed to push you closer to the edge. "I want to feel it" he rasped, his lips grazing your neck, his teeth teasing just enough to make you shiver.

Your heart thundered in your chest as his words wrapped around you, their intensity only matched by the sensations he was pulling from you. Your body arched into him, surrendering completely as your breaths grew ragged, your world narrowing to the man above you.

Your breath became ragged, each exhale blending with his as his fingers worked magic on your sensitive bundle of nerves, teasing and circling with precision. His movements were skilled, practiced, but driven by pure need, his every action a worship of your body. Meanwhile, his dick hit just the right spot inside you with each steady thrust, igniting sparks that spread through every inch of your being.

With a final thrust, you felt him swell inside you, his body tensing as his release overtook him. His hot release spilled deep within, the sensation overwhelming, and then his lips captured yours in a searing, desperate kiss that left no space between you. The intensity of it all—the sound of his breathless groans, the way his body trembled against yours, the sheer devotion in the way he held you—pushed you over the edge.

Your orgasm hit like a earthquake, your body convulsing with pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. You cried out into his mouth, your voice muffled as his tongue danced with yours, swallowing every sound you made. The world around you blurred, leaving nothing but the feeling of him—of his hands, his lips, his body completely intertwined with yours.

As the tremors of your release subsided, you collapsed into him, your heart still racing, your breaths uneven. He stayed inside you, unwilling to break the connection, his body heavy but comforting against yours. Slowly, he nuzzled your neck, his lips brushing the spot where your pulse pounded, planting soft kisses there that made your heart flutter all over again.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice hoarse but laced with tenderness as he pulled back just enough to look at you. His fingers gently brushed stray strands of hair from your damp forehead, his gaze filled with love so deep it made your chest ache.

You nodded, your arms finally free to wrap around his neck. "Yeah, Im happy" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but filled with sincerity. "You make me feel so good"

He smiled against your skin, his lips lingering on your collarbone. "I cant believe I went two weeks without that" he murmured, his voice breaking slightly as if overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. "I love making love with you"

He held you tightly, his arms wrapping around you as if afraid to let go. His warmth surrounded you, grounding you as the aftershocks of your shared passion rippled through your body. He kissed your shoulder, then your jaw, before resting his forehead against yours.

"I love you" he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of his words carried infinite depth. "You'll never understand how much."

Tears pricked at your eyes again, but this time they were tears of gratitude, of love so profound it couldn't be contained. "I love you too" you replied, pressing your lips softly to his. He smiled against your mouth, his kiss deepening once more, sweetly, as though savoring every second of the moment you shared.

His hands roamed over your back, broad palms leaving trails of warmth as they moved with quiet reverence. He loved holding you like this, keeping you close, feeling the way you fit so perfectly against him, as if your bodies were made for each other. You sighed softly, nuzzling against the crook of his neck, your fingers curling against his chest. He stayed there, still buried deep inside you, as though reluctant to let go of this perfect union.

The warmth of his body pressed against yours, the sound of his soft breathing brushing your ear, and the soothing way his hands caressed your back all worked to lull you into a state of blissful peace. You wanted to stay in this moment forever, cradled in his love, completely safe, completely his. Minutes stretched into what felt like eternity before he moved. With infinite care, he carefullly pulled out, his lips grazing yours in a lingering kiss, as if reluctant to part from you in even the smallest way.

Rolling onto his back, he brought you with him, his strong arms wrapping around you and anchoring you securely against his side. Nestled against him, you rested your head on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a calming balm to your still-racing thoughts. zzling closer, realizing that moments like these were more than just physical; they were a testament to the vulnerability and trust you both shared.

It was in the gentle way he held you and the unspoken promises exchanged through touch that you found true intimacy. This closeness, this openness, was the foundation of the deep bond you had built together, a haven where both your hearts found solace. You traced lazy patterns on his skin with your fingertips, your touch light and aimless, marveling at the contrast between the passionate man who had undone you completely and the tender lover who now held you as if you were the most precious thing in his world.

"Goodnight Levi"

He nuzzled the top of your head, inhaling your familiar scent that always calmed him. "Goodnight baby" he replied, his voice soft and full of longing. His hand moved in soothing circles along your back until your body finally surrendered to sleep, completely relaxed against him. He stayed awake for a little while longer, watching you, memorizing the way your features softened in the quiet vulnerability of sleep. When sleep finally claimed him, his dreams were filled with you—your laughter, your touch, your love—each moment a reminder of how blessed he was to have you.

As morning light crept through the curtains, he stirred, the soft golden glow spilling across the room. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he turned his head, his lips curling into a smile at the sight of you still curled against him, your face serene and bathed in the gentle morning light. Careful not to wake you, he brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, marveling at the sheer beauty of you, so peaceful and vulnerable in his arms. He leaned down to press a featherlight kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment, his heart swelling with love. In these quiet moments, he didn't need words or grand gestures. Holding you was enough—simply being with you, sharing the same air, the same love, the same life.