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sergeantbarnessdoll · 13 hours ago

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Hi there! First, I just want to say I love your blog and your writing! You are seriously so talented! I have a request for Bucky that I would be cute! (I don't think you've written anything similar but if so, I'm sorry for sending in a duplicate).

I saw a writing prompt thing on Pinterest and the prompt was "I can walk." The guy then looks at her and sasy "I thought you were dead. I need to f*ckin hold you."

And I immediately thought of Bucky! I kind of pictured you getting hurt on a mission or something like that and Bucky just being super touchy and wanting to hold you after because he was scared that he had lost you.

I'll let you fill in the rest with your amazing creativity!

Almost Lost You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader

Summary: You get shot during a mission and all Bucky wants to do is hold you.

Warnings: Fluff, language, coworkers to lovers (is that a thing?), blood, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵 I immediately thought of Thunderbolts when I seen this🥰

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

It’s no secret that Bucky has feelings for you. He has had feelings on you for a while. Most of the time you two get partnered up for missions, but sometimes it calls for individual work. Like this one.

Bucky was stopping a truck from hitting someone with his vibranium arm. You were chasing and shooting at the targets you were assigned to do. The rest of the team was doing their parts as well.

You were chasing one of the targets you were assigned to take down. You jumped on him to knock him to the ground, in which he did. He made a groaning noise as he fell to the ground. He grabbed his knife to try to stab you, but you smacked it out of his hand before you could.

“You need some back up, Y/N?” Bucky asks you through his ear piece.

“No, I’m good, Bucky.” You replied.

As soon as you said that, the guy you were trying to take down pulled out a gun. Before you could smack it out of his hand, he shot you in the side. You cried out in pain as he pushed you off of him and ran away. You managed to Army crawl your way off to the side and lean against a wall. You held your hand over where you were shot, feeling blood trickling down your side.

Bucky looked over at where you were supposed to be, but didn’t see you. He walked around to look for you. He found you leaning against a wall with your eyes closed. His eyes widened and his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. He ran over to you to check on you.

“Please be alive.” Bucky whispers to himself.

He put his fingers against your neck to feel for your pulse. He felt relieved when he felt it.

“What are you doing?” You asked, opening your eyes to see Bucky crouched down in front of you.

“I was just checking on you. You look injured.” Bucky says. “Are you ok?” He asks.

You knew he’d figure out one way or another to see if you’re injured or not. You lifted your shirt, showing him where you got shot. Bucky’s eyes went wide when he seen it. He put his hand over it and applied pressure. You yelped in pain.

“I know it hurts, but you’re going to be ok.” He says softly.

All you could do is nod. You tried to stand up, but the pain got the best of you.

“Let me help you.” Bucky says.

Bucky lifted you to your feet and then went to pick you up, but you stopped him by putting your hand on his chest to stop him.

“I can walk.” You say.

“I thought you were dead. I need to fucking hold you.” He says.

You were in too much pain to argue with him so you just nodded. Bucky picked you up bridal style and went to get you help. Luckily for you, there was an ambulance not too far from where you two were.

“What happened?” Yelena asks when she seen Bucky walk past her with you in his arms.

“Some asshole shot her.” Bucky tells her.

The paramedics saw Bucky carrying you and got a stretcher out of the aid car, rolling it over to you. Bucky gently laid you on it and explained what happened to you to the paramedics. You grabbed Bucky’s arm and looked up at him.

“Please stay with me.” You said in almost a whisper.

“I’m not going anywhere, doll.” Bucky says softly, gently caressing your cheek.

The paramedics took you to the hospital and Bucky stayed with you the whole time, except when he was told to go to the waiting room. Bucky sat in the waiting room with his nerves through the roof. He was bouncing one of his legs, trying to keep his nerves in control. All he wants to do is be with you.

“Bucky.” He hears Yelena’s voice.

Bucky looks up to see Yelena, Alexi, John, and Ava walking towards him.

“How is she?” Ava asks.

“They said the bullet didn’t hit anything major and they took her to surgery just to make sure.” Bucky tells them.

“She’ll be out before you know it.” Alexi says, trying to stay positive.

Bucky smiles softly and nods. That’s when the doctor walked in the waiting room. He practically jumped up from his seat.

“Y/N is out of surgery and she’ll be fine. She needs to take it easy for a while. You can see her now if you want.” The doctor says.

Bucky let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He’s even more relieved to know that you’re fine.

“We’ll be out here if either of you need anything.” Yelena says.

Bucky smiles and went to your hospital room. You were just waking up when he walked in the room. You turned your head towards the door, smiling when you saw him.

“You stayed.” You say.

“I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.” Bucky says with a smile.

Bucky sat down in the chair next to the hospital bed. He gently picked up your hand and kissed it, making you blush.

“You really know how to make a girl blush, James.” You say with a soft giggle.

“That’s part of my charm, doll face.” He says with a smile.

You giggled again, but then winced in pain.

“Be careful, doll. Don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He says.

You smiled at him.

“Did you really think I was dead?” You asked.

“Yes and it scared me. One of my worst fears is losing you.” He says.

“One of your worst fears is losing me?” You asked, making sure you heard him right.

“Yes and it’s only because I’m in love with you.” He admits.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. You have always knew that Bucky had a crush on you from the way he acts around you, but at the same time, you weren’t sure. His love confession confirmed it for you.

“You’re in love with me?” You asked in almost a whisper.

“I have been since I met you.” Bucky says.

You smiled at him and lifted your hand to caress his cheek, rubbing your thumb against his beard.

“Wanna know something?” You asked.

Bucky nods.

“I’m in love with you too.” You confessed. “That’s why I always played hard to get every time you flirt with me.” You say.

Bucky smiles widely. He leaned over and kissed you passionately. Your hand continued to caress his cheek. He then pulled away and leaned his forehead against yours, looking deep in your eyes.

“Was that kiss your way of asking me to be your doll?” You asked in a whisper.

“Only if you want to be. I don’t want to pressure you in any way.” He says.

“I would love to be your doll.” You say softly.

Bucky smiles and kisses you again. The kiss was short lived when the team walked in the room.

“I didn’t know hospitals provided this kind of treatment.” Yelena jokes, making you and Bucky laugh.

You and Bucky pulled away from each other. You looked at the team and smiled at them.

“How are you feeling?” Ava asks.

“Other than the little bit of pain, I’m fine.” You say.

As the team was visiting you, they noticed how touchy Bucky was being with you. They couldn’t tell if it was from almost losing you or having a crush on you. Maybe it’s a mix of both.

“Are you two a thing now?” John asks.

“Yes.” Bucky answers immediately.

Everyone smiled and congratulated you two on finally making it official. They visited a little bit longer before leaving so you and Bucky can be alone together.

“You’re so beautiful.” Bucky almost whispers.

“Even in a hospital gown?” You asked with a small giggle.

“It adds more to your beauty.” He says with a smile.

You smiled at him and gazed deeply in his eyes.

“I’m never letting you go.” He whispers.

You scooted over in the hospital bed, wanting Bucky to lay down next to you and cuddle you. You winced in pain when you moved.

“Cuddle me.” You murmured.

Bucky smiles and lays down next to you, wrapping his arms around you, being careful to not accidentally bump your wound.

“You’re coming home with me when you get released from here.” Bucky says.

“I would love that.” You whispered, smiling at him.

Bucky pecks your lips softly a few times and looks deep in your eyes.

“I don’t want to experience almost losing you again.” He says softly, his voice cracking.

“You won’t. I promise I’ll be more careful and ask for back up next time.” You promised.

“I love you so much, babydoll.” He whispers, kissing you sweetly and softly.

“I love you too, baby.” You say, smiling up at him.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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vesearlee · 3 days ago

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──── 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕

Like the flow of ink across skin, his artistry carried stories to the surface: delicate linework, shaded secrets, painted dreams. Not only did artwork hold the stories he created, but his own decorated arms told tales of their own, and you would be hard pressed to keep anything a secret among the soothing hum of his tattoo machine and voice while you lay in the sanctuary of his workspace, drawn taut by the tension of his proximity that you craved more of.

But with the fierce tide of secrets, also came burning revelations.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ── Tattoo Artist!Rafayel x F!Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ── 6.5k 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ── T 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ── Tooth Rotting Fluff, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, teasing and flirting, slight angst (anxiety and insecurity), first kiss, first tattoo 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ── HERE 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ── HERE 𝐀𝐔𝐓��𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ── This whole fic was inspired by the utterly phenomenally talented @obligatedart and her Tattoo Artist!Rafayel artwork ― I was captivated and on the first day of working on this, I wrote 2k words in the span of 2 hours, never have I been so inspired. ── Thank you so, so much for allowing me to work with you on this, love. I had the time of my life! please be sure to check her out her blog or visit her linktree! ── Event runners, please mind the tags and specifics written at the end of this fic, well beyond the read more cut... this fic has 32 fills in total.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

─── 𝑳𝑨𝑫𝑺 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ───

“Sooo,” Rafayel teased, the vowel long on his tongue. “I’ve got no clients this afternoon. What does a fishie like me gotta do to get your cute butt into my studio, kitty?”

You sighed into the phone, picturing the way he would be sitting on the high stool at the counter of his shop, swinging his legs while he held the phone between his shoulder and neck to talk to you. There were no doubts to what his hands were occupied by — through the speaker in your ear, you could hear the quiet hash of a lead pencil brushing over paper.

“You’re only asking because you want to be the one to finally break me into the world of tattoos, or whatever.”

It was true, the tattoo artist you called your best friend and whom you adored beyond what was platonic, had used every single trick in the book of bribery and persuasion to get you through the door and onto his chair as his client.

An honour that many artistically inclined people waited years for — to have the opportunity to display even a stroke of the prodigy’s work.

But what Rafayel didn’t know, however, was that the decision was already made weeks ago — the very concept of your tattoo design he himself sketched with your studious input would stretch from your collarbone and down towards your shoulder. Swirls of colour with strong lines would map the delicate skin.

A coy laugh filled your ear. The butterflies in your stomach roared to life at the sound. “Okay, you caught me, I’m busted.” There was a short pause where you could hear the muffled sound of shuffling, and his next words sounded somehow closer — as though they were spoken against the shell of your ear, his hot breath caressing the skin softly. “What’d’ya say, cutie?”

You stopped and thought. While your attraction was no doubt a hesitant topic for you to broach to anyone but your journal — the butterflies in your stomach swirled in agreement to that thought — holding out the game of cat and mouse no longer appealed to you. Each glance, word, or touch from Rafayel never failed to spark that heat, and you knew, deep down, that maybe getting this tattoo was only an excuse to be close to him; to feel the touch you craved with no ulterior motive.

Ulterior motive, my ass, you scolded internally.

But if it were true, and he had no clients for the afternoon — no matter how suspicious that may be — the two of you would be free to see one another with no outside expectation of attention being diverted elsewhere.

“Hmm,” you hummed, unsure if the teasing lilt of your tone was nullified. “I don’t know, Raffie. I mean, maybe? I’m just not sure.”

The sound of Rafayel’s sharp inhale made you worry your bottom lip with your teeth. “What do you mean ‘I don’t know’? You’ve been thinking of this design for ages!” The expression of indignation in his tone and undoubtedly on his pretty features made your stomach tie in knots — the furrow of his pierced brows and pout of his full lips, while he tilted his head to the side to better analyse your words.

“It’s–” you tried, but he cut you off.

“What’s stopping you, huh? D’you want more colour, maybe?” A sudden gasp from the speaker made you jump slightly. “Have you found another artist?”

“No! No, you dummy,” you rushed, horrified at the idea of any other person making their mark on you.

Only, Rafayel laughed, the sound of it was real and deep in his chest. “I’m only teasin’ you.”

“Oh, you– No, what’s stopping me is that once I get one, I might not be able to stop. You might just have a new regular, Raf,” you replied petulantly, crossing an arm over your chest in protest.

He scoffed, and you could feel the eyeroll he sent your way in your very soul. “You say that like it’s a problem—you don’t think I wanna see my favourite girl more often? Especially so I can tattoo her?” It truly was there now, the petulant scowl on his downturned lips was crystal clear in your mind. “C’mon, I thought you were a clever kitty.”

“Do you realise just how annoying you are?” you asked seriously. Despite your words, you started to get ready to leave all the same.

“Yup.”

A small silence grew, though it wasn’t uncomfortable, rather he seemed to be waiting for a confirmation. And there was no way you would give him the satisfaction.

“Well,” he sighed, “if you don’t want it, it’s fine. But I’m lonely.” That pout on his lips made his tone of petulance far more exaggerated. “Come and keep me company.”

“Fine,” you huffed, a ghost of a smile on your lips. “I’m headed over, do you want anything while I’m on my way?”

“Yes!” His shout made you wince and hastily pull the phone from your ear. Even then you could hear his exclamations of joy at being brought snacks. You finally put the speaker back to your ear as he finished with: “Gods, yes. Uh– I wouldn’t mind–”

“Your usual?”

“I was gonna say–” He groaned. “Ugh, you know me too well.” The sound of him moving over the line made you raise a brow in silent question while you slipped your shoes on. “Yes, my usual, please.”

“Unfortunately for me, I do.”

And you ended the call before you could hear his retort.

The drive to his tattoo shop was pleasant and short — the sight of the ocean’s swell so close to his haven always gave you pause at the sheer beauty.

You turned your car into a free parking space, right out the front of the elaborately decorated studio — seashells and fire lilies decorated the gold, bordered windows, and with the reflection of the water a few meters away, you could almost swear the petals danced with the movement of the waves.

The aroma of sea salt filled your senses as you stepped out of your car and into the sea breeze. It made a warmth fill you from the tip of your toes to the tips of your fingers, much like the wave of contentment you felt when you saw Rafayel yourself.

His tattoo studio truly was your haven, too — hours upon hours had been spent behind those walls, helping the artist work through portfolio to portfolio, all while he groused at the uptick of unpleasant encounters with arrogant clients.

It wasn’t all an unfortunate time of complaints, however.

Your memories of his wide smile while he hung frames of his own works on the walls still engrained in your mind. How, on the frequent occasion of him being so focused on his work, you would have the exceedingly rare instance of hearing him sing quietly; the melodic tune only just loud enough to hear, but you treasured it all the same.

All of the instances warmed your heart, and suddenly, you found yourself smiling widely as you approached the door. It was the right decision to make today the day.

Before you could reach the singular step at the entryway, the door was swung open with a cry of happiness.

Rafayel burst through the doorway, his smile blinding with his glee at seeing you. While he approached, you took notice of how he looked — the glint of his eyes was shimmering with the rays of the sun, making the blue and pink hues breathtakingly beautiful.

The black shirt he wore was loose on his lithe frame, and the sleeves were folded at his elbows to better display the stunning array of ink on both of his forearms that extended down to his hands. A few rings adorned his fingers — each as pretty and elaborate as the last.

Black ink filled the black spaces between an array of marine designs on one arm, while his other was decorated with elaborate scales, separated by the use of negative space. Layered over the top of the rows and rows of scales, was a luminous, finned entity, the colours blending seamlessly together to match the shades of his eyes.

A singular fire lily on his forearm stood out the most to you, however, and your heart swooped at the sight of it.

“There’s my girl!” Rafayel called, jogging towards you. His hair was loose around his face, the purple strands swaying with his gait. “Hey, you.”

His arms wrapped around your middle as soon as he collided with you, and you let out a gasp of surprise as he swayed you side to side. “Hey, my favourite fishie.” You kissed his cheek and pulled back, smiling just as widely as he was.

The sun shone down, and the rays of light reflected off of the silver piercings on the bridge of his nose to his dimple piercings. They were a simple titanium silver, but they gleamed brighter than diamonds as you mapped his face.

From the round collar of his shirt, the theme of his tattoos continued all the way up to his sharp jawline — the use of scales and negative space repeated, but instead of solid, dark shading on his arm, the scales were engraved with the gentle touch of flower petals to fill each one.

There was no splash of colour to compliment, rather the monochrome palette of black and grey applied to a standard of perfection only an artist could attain. Strands of his purple hair fell over the lines of his tattoos as he stood there, staring at you like you were the blessing he needed for that day.

Which, you supposed you were.

“You brought me a snack?” Rafayel asked, his eyes widening slightly while his lower lip pouted.

In reply, you shook the brown paper bag in your hand — the momentary stop at the convenience store worth it for the utter adoration in his expression. “I swear the way to your heart is through your bottomless tummy,” you teased, poking his stomach.

“Hey! Hands off, you’re touching the goods!” He snatched the bag and danced just out of reach of your fingers to peer inside.

You snorted a laugh and shook your head. “What goods?”

Rafayel’s eyes snapped up to glare at you. “Puh-lease, I have abs, okay?”

The butterflies pivoted their movements in your stomach, and you cleared your throat to fight the bubble of emotion in your throat, but he didn’t notice your sudden, flustered actions on account of his face being buried in your peace offering.

His mussed hair suddenly moved and revealed his gleeful expression. “Seaweed chips?”

“Only the best for my man.”

“Ugh, I could kiss you. C’mon, come inside.” Rafayel grabbed your hand and led you back towards his studio, his grip sure and true — unwilling to let go. And you couldn’t help but feel dizzy over how you wanted him to make good on his threat, or the fact that your hand fit so perfectly in his.

The interior of his studio was aglow, to say the least. The walls facing the sea were floor to ceiling windows with pillars between each stretch of glass — every single one decorated with the theme of water in mind. Your favourite one depicted a pod of dolphins, their fins seeming to move and chase the momentum to propel them forward and catch the pearlescent spheres of bubbles.

A few of the windows were wide open to the view — curtains swayed with the sea breeze, and with it they carried the sound of cawing seagulls.

“They’re loud today,” Rafayel commented, nodding his head towards a heaped pile of sand a few paces from the window, where a small gathering of gulls called to one another endlessly while you watched. “I could’a sworn they’d been possessed by you at one point, they were so obnoxious.”

You shot a glare at the artist, though he only smirked. “What are they going on about, then?” The bag of treats in Rafayel’s grasp made a dull thump as it settled on the till counter. “Surely they aren’t shouting prophecies and telling you that I was going to come today.”

“And what would you say if I said yes, cutie?” Rafayel laughed heartily at your exaggerated eyeroll, and he then gestured towards a large fishbowl. “Someone else also missed you.”

“It’s only been like, two days,” you sighed, but you still looked towards the fishbowl and found a small, red fish pacing the glass — back and forth, back and forth. If he were a dog, you would have guessed his tail would be wildly wagging with excitement. “Hey, Reddie, baby.”

The fish did a fast loop and faced you, his fanned tail swishing from side to side so fast that small bubbles floated to the surface of his water. You walked over, smiling wildly as you felt Rafayel’s dumbfounded gaze watching your every move.

The tip of your finger touched the cool, smooth surface of the glass.

“I would have thought that you missed Reddie more than me. What the hell?” Rafayel grumbled, and just as you looked over at him, you found his arms crossed over his toned chest, the fabric of his shirt rumpled and pulled tight over the muscles of his biceps. “Why don’t you greet me like that, huh?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you cooed, and you stepped back from Reddie’s tank. “Would you like a re-do?”

“Well duh.”

You smiled gently and walked towards him. “Hey, Raffie, baby,” you repeated, and you lifted your finger to boop the tip of his sharp nose.

In response, his nose scrunched, and he shook his head, the sway of his hair mesmerising. With such a small distance between you both, you took him in, committing the way his eyes sparkled with mirth and the quirk of his lips, the metal of his snake bite piercing reflecting the afternoon sun’s light.

“That it, kitty?” he teased, the tip of his tongue running over his lips.

“That’s it,” you affirmed, nodding assuredly — albeit ignoring the swoop of your stomach as you watched the movement on his tongue. Get it together, you reminded inwardly. “So, what’s on the agenda today, my second favourite fishie?”

“Second favourite?” Rafayel scoffed. “You’re a brat, y’know that, right?”

“Yup.”

Before long, you were lounging on the seashell-shaped couch in the reception area, while Rafayel kept fiddling around behind the counter, the scratch of lead over paper louder this time compared to earlier. “What are you up to?”

He looked up, his wide-eyed gaze meeting yours briefly before he glanced back downward. “Nothin’.”

“Nothing? That’s a lie if ever I heard one,” you teased, sitting up straight. Rafayel didn’t look up at you again, until: “I guess we’re both hiding secrets today then.”

Fiery eyes met yours faster than you could blink, and he narrowed his gaze. “And what do you mean by that absolutely ridiculous accusation, Miss Fishie?”

You were in trouble now — that title had only been bestowed upon you when Rafayel suspected something, whether it be a prank, secret, or whatever else he could sense with his otherworldly observational skills. “Miss Fishie? I haven’t done anything–!”

“You’re not doing yourself any favours by getting so defensive, cutie,” he laughed, sitting up straighter on his stool and crossing his leg over his knee. His shirt creased as he moved, and he placed his elbow on the countertop, his chin now resting in his hand. “Go on, shoot—what’s got my girl’s tongue all tied and twisted?”

You blinked, taken aback by his curiosity — there was no doubt you expected as much, but to be such a genuine interest without the undercurrent of his usual teasing manner was unusual. “Uh– Well…”

Rafayel arched a brow, urging you to continue with his free hand before he draped it over his thigh and spun his pencil absentmindedly over his knuckles.

“Well I decided something…”

“And that something is?”

A deep, steadying breath did nothing to calm the racing beat of your heart. The sudden nerves of admitting your desire to have the tattoo snuck up on you far faster than you hoped they would. In one exhale, you said: “I want you to tattoo me with that design you came up with.”

It was Rafayel’s turn to sit speechless.

The pencil that was flipping effortlessly over and through his nimble fingers fell to the floor with a deafening clatter in the silence that filled the space between you — though it was only a few paces, it suddenly felt like a cavernous trek.

He cleared his throat, and you looked at your lap, hastily placing your hands there to fidget and have an excuse not to meet his eyes.

“You want me to what? Did I just hear you right?” His voice was strained with an indiscernible emotion, though you noticed the rasp of his tenor was far from unpleasant.

“You heard me right,” you mumbled, picking at the skin by your fingernails. Footsteps sounded over the floor of his studio, and they grew louder until you could see the source toe to toe with you from under your lashes.

The warmth of Rafayel’s fingers brushed against your chin, and he cradled your jaw to move your head upwards, forcing you to meet his gaze. A smile, one of genuine warmth and happiness, pulled at the corners of his lips, and it somehow made the gleam of his eyes even more dazzling.

“You want me to tattoo you?” His voice was soft, and as he spoke, you felt his thumb brush gently over your skin. “How long have you been planning this, kitty?”

“I decided ages ago, but I only worked up enough courage this morning.”

Rafayel beamed — the piercings on his lips, nose, and brows outshone by the brightness of his smile. “Okay then. Let’s get you ready, yeah?” He offered his hand, and you took it, letting him help you up from the couch. “Can’t have my favourite client disappointed, so I’ll pull out all the stops.”

You let out a nervous chuckle, squeezing his hand. “I couldn’t ever be disappointed by you, Raf.”

“Nice to know you have so much faith in me,” he said, smiling over his shoulder at you.

A closed door came into view, and the thud of your heart against your ribs grew painful — it was his space, where he worked day in and day out, where he tattooed true masterpieces on his clients and where he was in his element.

Your breath hitched, and he noticed.

“Hang on,” Rafayel whispered, and you were suddenly crushed to his chest, the warmth of his body seeping into yours and grounding you in the present. “What’s goin’ on in that head’a yours? Talk to me.”

The rumble of his voice in your ears soothed the rush of blood that thrummed in your ears, and you took another deep breath. “Just nervous, I think?”

Rafayel squeezed you tight, and stepped back to lean in close, his nose almost touching yours. “That’s alright, cutie. It’s me, and you’re safe.” His hot breath fanned over your lips, and the butterflies rampaged through your stomach at his proximity — it would be so easy to close the distance, to claim his lips and take what you’ve craved for so long.

The train of thought must have shown on your expression because he winked, the tip of his tongue toying with the shining piercing. You watched the action, only to realise he was doing it on purpose. “Up here, pretty girl.”

You blinked, your focus moving from his lips to his eyes. “I’ve got you and I’ll be sure to make this first tattoo a beautiful one; hard to surpass the canvas herself, but an artist’s gotta try, yeah?”

A small smile tugged at your lips, and Rafayel grinned back at you before he kissed your forehead.

One step after the other, you followed behind him, your hand still held tightly by his as he guided you into his booth.

The walls were painted in a pastel blue — a colour that soothed something deep in your soul, while splashes of fiery red and soft pinks decorated the space in all manners of fauna and flora, from whales to coral.

“There it is,” you breathed through a wide smile, a small giggle of laughter making your voice shake. The culprit for such awe was framed on a wall — the same, impassioned shades of red, orange, and yellow of the petals were identical to the ones that adorned Rafayel’s arm. A fire lily, symbolising such fierce passion, couldn’t be imagined to be placed anywhere else beside the artist’s space.

“There it is,” said artist assured.

The piece was simple but symbolic; one afternoon of you both glued to the hip of the other, brushes in hand while you playfully splattered paint over the canvas in a bid to sabotage his attempts to challenge you. What resulted was an outlined flower with flames of pink that licked the leaves, never charring the beauty of your joined creation.

“Never have and never will move this one,” he continued, walking backwards. “Thomas was insistent the other day on moving it to the gallery.”

“He what?” you gasped, astonished. While Rafayel was a renowned tattoo artist, his venture into traditional styles resulted in his need for a manager to juggle the endless pieces and enquiries of purchases. “But didn’t you tell–?”

“Oh, I did.” The stool next to the padded chair squeaked as Rafayel sat down, and the wheels spun as he pushed himself to the corner, where all of his supplies were messily placed. “Haven’t seen him run so fast from a lit match before.”

The implication of a lit match being waved around the precious creation made your heart leap with fear, and you started forwards, a finger pointed at his chest. “Raffie!”

“Hey, hey, it’s not harmed, is it? Kitty–! Stop–” His protests were cut short by his laugh, the jabs of your fingers hitting each ticklish spot on his side with precision. “Enough, enough—I yield!”

The wheels of his stool squealed with how fast he pushed away from your looming figure, and he held his hands up in surrender — deep, navy blue and black lines that curved around his thumb, index, and ring finger was the only art visible in his act of contrition. The rings gleamed like his piercings under the studio lights overhead.

“Good,” you goaded, lifting your chin. “Don’t you dare do that again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said aloud, but as he turned away to focus on his supplies again, you could have sworn you heard a mumbled continuation of: “Maybe I would if you react like that. Adorable.”

As he fiddled with his tools, you walked around the space. Frames were hung high on walls with awards he won over the years, as well as a few choices of his most prideful works — one of which was a stunning, surrealist, fantastical interpretation of Reddie and a Merman, the red scales of Reddie’s body contrasting against the crystal blue of the Merman’s fins.

“Okay, cutie,” Rafayel sang from behind you, the excitement in his voice far from hidden. You turned around and found him staring up at you, his eyes gleaming with a kind of tender adoration.

His palm slapped the leather of the reclined chair. “I’ll get you to take just your shirt off so I can get to your shoulder,” he said quietly, gesturing to the stencil he had made. “Then you can get your cute butt up here, and let’s get started, yeah?”

“My shirt off…?” you whispered, eyes widening slightly. Of all the possibilities and outcomes of you getting this tattoo, somehow, this was the one thing you had not considered — naturally, being close with Rafayel meant that accidents did happen and so many hasty apologies had been said through laughter, but as for a purposeful act of this nature made your stomach tie in anxious knots again.

It didn’t help that the swirling feeling of restless butterflies grew worse the longer he stared up at you from his perch on his stool.

“Yeah, Miss Fishie,” he teased, tapping the shining leather of the seat. “Won’t be an accident this time—I can turn around if it’ll help.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “What? It’s fine, kitty. I think you’re cute, y’know, so I don’t mind.”

Oh.

“What?”

Rafayel chuckled and shook his head. “C’mon, times tickin’ away. I wanna get started.”

“You are such a smug asshole,” you groused, trying utterly hard to ignore the heat crawling up from the collar of your shirt. “Seriously, you really are.”

“Yeah, and yet, here you are, my feisty kitty.” He made a show of smirking cheekily while he turned around, and he reached for the box of gloves on his trolley to pull free a pair.

The thunderous beat of your heart made you swallow thickly, and you cleared your throat to try and force it to settle in place, though it was in vain. Your hands gripped the hem of your shirt, and slowly, ever so carefully, the fabric revealed the skin of your stomach, your chest and neck, until it passed over your head to be held in your trembling hand. A shaky exhale made your sides flutter.

The stool Rafayel sat on made a small clinking noise as he moved to sit comfortably. “You ready now, hmm?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, looking at the floor hastily when he made a move to turn around.

The silence swelled uncomfortably, and it passed for a beat until you heard him ask: “What’s up, kitty? You wanna get on the chair for me…?”

“Oh, uh– Sorry, Raf–”

“If you apologise again, I will take this–” Rafayel picked up the tattoo machine on the table beside him, and effortlessly twirled it in his hand, “And I will tattoo a post it note on your forehead saying idiot.”

His sudden and ridiculous threat made a small laugh burst out of your constricting chest, and you stepped slowly towards the aforementioned chair. “You wouldn’t do that–?”

“Bet. Try me.” He scooted the stool closer to the chair and offered his hand to help you up onto the comfortable padding. “Apologise again and you’ll see.”

A small, nervous sigh escaped your lips, and with the guidance of Rafayel’s cool, smooth hands on your back and shoulder, you laid back against the chair, somewhat uncomfortable with the position — especially since he was so damned close to your side that you could feel every single one of his exhales against the skin of your shoulder or chest, dependent on where he positioned himself to place the stencil.

He hummed quietly as he worked, tilting his head side to side while you laid stiffly underneath his scrutinising gaze. “If you sit like this for the whole session,” he started, licking his lips absentmindedly, and he leaned in so close while looking at your shoulder that his loose hair tickled the tip of your nose. “I’m not taking the blame for how sore you’re gonna feel after—though it gives me an excuse to give you a world-famous-Rafayel-massage.”

“World famous, huh? Who else has had one?”

The colours in his irises burned at your question, and he stared at you from the corner of his eyes. “Only one person—she may be a brat, but she’s my world and I wouldn’t have it any other way. So don’t you worry, cutie.”

“Raffie,” you whined, looking away from his intense gaze as though it seared through you, the burn of it terrifying and oh, so addictive. “Don’t do that to me, please.”

“Hmm,” he hummed again, arching a brow before he focused back on his task. The click of his tongue sounded while he smoothed over the paper and gently pulled it away from your skin to reveal blue and purple lines from the stencil. “Sorry, kitty, ‘fraid I can’t listen, ‘specially not when there’s truth to it.”

You groaned low in your throat and threw your arm over your eyes to shield yourself from the embarrassment of meeting his stare.

“‘Kay, we’re good to get started. You feelin’ ready?” he asked suddenly, his voice now coming from beside you as opposed to above you.

You moved your arm and blinked against the sudden, bright light, and you glanced to the side.

Rafayel was sitting patiently, his hands in his lap while a small smile curled his lips upwards — the light in his eyes didn’t reflect just the bulb above you, but his joy for the moment. “Hmm?” he prompted, tilting his head to the side.

Slowly, you turned your head forward, inhaled deeply, and let it out with a huff as you stared up at the ceiling. “Better now than never.”

“That’s the spirit,” he teased.

Movement from the very corner of your peripherals made you snap your attention towards Rafayel once more, only, you froze in place at the sight. A hair band was around his wrist while both his hands raked through his hair — streaks of purple caught the light as he moved uncooperative strands into a messy up-do that left the longer parts of his hair remaining loose down the back of his neck.

With the hair gone from his forehead, his eyes became far more piercing — colours that would normally be intense in their own right, bore into your very being as you met his gaze.

The gloves he grabbed from a small cardboard box fit snug over his hands, and the plastic snapped against his wrist while he adjusted them to be more comfortable. “Alright then, kitty.” He winked and leaned forward, one gloved hand resting on the skin below your collar bone, while the other securely held the machine. “Here we go.”

The initial prick of the inked needles on your skin made you hiss with the sudden pain, and your head jerked upwards from the headrest to stare into his face. “Shit!”

“You’re okay,” Rafayel soothed. “It’s always gonna hurt more during the first few—wanna relax and let me work?”

You grimaced and rested your head back down onto the headpiece of the chair. “Not like I got a choice, right?”

“Nup.”

Time passed slowly while the ink coloured your skin, each stroke of the needles stung a little less than the last and the discomfort plateaued enough for you to lay more comfortably in the seat. “You’re doin’ well, kitty,” Rafayel praised softly, the hum of the machine momentarily silenced as he wiped the tender flesh of your shoulder, cleaning it of built-up ink. “Not much longer to go, ‘kay?”

“Okay.”

A small silence stretched, only occupied by the droning hum of the needles effortlessly working, and the slight hitch of your breath as he moved the machine.

The light over your shoulder lit up his sharp features, and you smiled at him through the sting of pain. With the adrenaline of sitting still while he worked, a sudden rush of bravery overtook you — starting at the tips of your fingers and your toes, much like the wave of warmth earlier, and it settled in the depths of your stomach like a molten weight. “Raf…”

“Mm? Yeah, cutie?” he asked, his eyes not leaving the fast-disappearing blue, stencilled lines on your shoulder. “What’s up, you alright?”

Fire coursed through your stomach, swirling upwards into your chest and around your heart. The feeling was intoxicating, freeing with its very presence. “Have I ever told you…” You licked your bottom lip, the sudden dryness of your mouth forcing you to clear your throat.

Your best friend, the light of your life, and the recipient of your deepest affection, stopped the machine in his hand and glanced upwards, arching a brow in question. “Told me what?”

You blinked and dragged a deep lungful of air to quell the rioting butterflies in your stomach. In one breath, you exhaled and spoke quickly. “That I think you’re really pretty.”

A beat passed, another, and another.

Rafayel seemed to have frozen in place. The amethyst of his eyes bloomed to be blinding, though he sat as still as a geode, unmoving with shock — the rise and fall of his chest from each breath even ceased.

A sobering amount of ice flooded your veins and embarrassment burned up the skin of your chest and neck, the scorching pain of the needles entirely unlike it. The reality of preferring to be chained to the chair for eternity with the constant pricks of needles over your delicate skin, rather than take in the way he only sat there, hit you like a tidal wave.

“I’m sorry–” You gasped, the build up of shameful tears forcing their way to the corner of your eyes. “I didn’t–” The chair rattled as you hastily moved to sit up on your elbows. “I’m so sorry, I’ll go–”

Before you could even sit up and run from the room, you were forced backwards by the solid weight of a body. Tattooed arms caged you against the chair — steadfast, gloved hands were planted either side of your hips, while you scurried backwards with a squeak of shock.

Rafayel had moved so fast it was a blur. All you could see was his face, the way his cheekbones were dusted pink; how his lips were shining from the light next to you.

“Raf–!”

“Shut up.”

You tried to shy backwards, to gain some distance from his suffocating presence, but he followed, keeping his nose close enough to yours to bump against the tip of it — a normal, cute tradition that suddenly held you in its vice just as tightly as the man who loomed over you.

“Please–”

“I said shut up, cutie.” Rafayel remained immovable, his hands still caged you in place — no matter how hard you tried to scoot backwards over the leather chair, you could not escape the warmth of his molten stare, or the way his breath came in slow, deep exhales over your cheek and jaw as you desperately looked everywhere around the room but at him. “Look at me.”

“Please don’t make me.” The pressure of tears on your waterline made you squeeze them shut, desperate to stem the flow. “Please, I– Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“Who are you talking to, kitty? You, or me?” His question made you freeze, the entirety of your body stiffening, and he pressed his advantage. “Huh, so you’re talking to yourself and gettin’ all worked up.” There was a slight shuffle, and the sound of latex gloves snapping followed straight away. “You’re gonna make me ask again, aren’t you?”

A heavy sigh sounded, and you felt the rush of air against your shoulder, above the freshly done tattoo. The room was filled with a silence that grew and grew, expanding to encompass your whole being to make it feel like an ornate pane of glass soon to shatter from an unseen pressure.

“Miss Fishie,” Rafayel whispered, his voice so close you could almost taste the words on his tongue. His fingers gripped your chin gently and turned you to finally face him. Through the protection of your closed eyelids, you could imagine his expression of pity, and it only soured the butterflies in your stomach. “I need you to look at me, pretty girl. C’mon.”

Your eyes opened immediately — the fond use of your nickname mixed with the praise made a whole new heat settle in the pit of your stomach, and the butterflies bloomed through the murky depths to flutter once more.

Rafayel looked earnest, almost desperate in his need for you to look at him. The way his eyes glimmered and ebbed with the waves outside, amethysts and coral colliding as one again; his mouth slightly agape as he stared back at you. His hand moved from your chin to cup your jaw.

“I–”

“Shh,” he soothed. The pad of his thumb brushed over your cheek, a soothing gesture that only made your heart ache more. “Why’re you gettin’ all scared, baby? I didn’t even get to reply—you shut me out like a clam, or an oyster, take your pick.”

Baby.

Never before had that word been said between you, and you blinked fast in shock. The flush of heat deepened on your chest and neck while it spread to your ears.

“But you’re– You don’t–” The stuttered reply was silenced by his arched brow. Each of his movements were sharp in clarity, and if you hadn’t have felt so poised to run, you would have admired the way his tattoos and piercings only made him more beautiful in the moment.

A small, amused smile played at the corner of his lips, and the tip of his tongue darted out to wet the pink skin. “My cute kitty can truly be so damned stupid sometimes, y’know.”

“Hey–!”

“Do you see me backing down?” Rafayel pressed, his brows suddenly furrowing and casting his eyes into shadowed depths. “Do you see me runnin’ away from you right now?”

You hesitated, and in your telling silence, you realised something. The feeling of it crashed over your whole body like a tsunami wave — far more intense than you ever felt before. “...No.”

“No,” he repeated, and he moved closer. The tip of his nose brushed yours. “I think you have your answer then, baby girl.”

“Hmph–” Any reply to him you could have mustered was utterly banished from your mind at the feel of his lips on yours. It was tender and soft; the warmth he held consumed you whole.

Slowly, he pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, his breath fanning over your parted lips while a smirk tugged at the corner of his. “Is that enough to show you just how much I want you; how long I’ve waited for this?”

“You knew!” you burst out, staring at him with wide eyes. “How–?!”

Rafayel chuckled quietly. “It’s Reddie’s fault.” The rise of his shoulders in an indifferent shrug obscured the light for a second. “He’s the one hidin’ my secrets.”

“You– You’re blaming a fish–! Oh my god.”

You surged forwards and captured his lips again, the leather under your legs scuffed with the sudden movement. Rafayel grunted with the force of your embrace, and he kissed back fervently, one hand on your waist while the other rested on your cheek.

The soft, feathered feel of Rafayel’s hair tickled the pads of your fingers, and you wove them upwards, revelling in the shuddered breath that hitched his chest. Your tongues met in a brief dance, and you tugged his head back lightly — more tresses fell loose from the updo to cover the ways your fingers entangled to your anchor.

“Shit, kitty,” Rafayel huffed, his lips only far enough away to draw breath. “If I had known you felt like this…”

“What, you would have said something sooner and put us both out of our yearning, heartfelt misery?”

Pink and purple danced with mirth, and he kissed the tip of your nose. “Damn right I would have.”

“I guess we’re both pretty dumb, huh?” you asked quietly, holding his face in your hands.

Rafayel winked, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a playful smirk. “Yeah, I’d say so, but you’re still the cute one.”

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nameless-jamie · 2 days ago

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Recently remembered those tiktok videos where guys would sit at a computer with their shirts off and make their pecs move like typing and now I'm thinking what if Jamie could move his and how might he Tease the reader????

Idk maybe I'm crazy

Pec-tacular Performance

Drabble - Jamie Tartt x wife reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x wife reader

TW: cursing, suggestive scene/language, slight nudity

A/N: I hope you're not mad I turned this into a small drabble, couldn't think of a longer plot than this haha. Hope you appreciate the pun in the title. TY and LY!!!!!!!!!!!

Y/N had long since accepted that Jamie Tartt was a menace. A lovable, infuriating, ridiculously fit menace.

She was curled up on the couch, laptop balanced on her knees, trying to answer emails when she heard the bathroom door open. A few seconds later, a freshly showered Jamie strolled into the living room, a towel slung dangerously low on his hips, still dripping from the steam. Dripping all the water onto the floor, being a menace.

"Oi, love," he said casually, running a hand through his damp hair. "What ya workin’ on?"

"Emails," she murmured, keeping her eyes on the screen. She could feel him hovering, standing just close enough to be a distraction.

"Sounds dead boring," Jamie mused. "Dunno how ya do it. Here, lemme help."

She didn’t even have time to react before he stepped in front of her and—oh for fuck’s sake.

Jamie flexed his pecs.

Left. Right. Left. Right.

"Oh my god," Y/N groaned, slapping a hand over her eyes as his pecs bounced.

"Somethin’ wrong?" Jamie asked innocently, except he was not innocent. He was flexing his chest in a very deliberate, very rhythmic way.

Y/N peeked through her fingers, her mouth falling open, he hands falling from her eyes. "Are you serious right now?"

"Yeah, babe, I’m helpin’ ya type," he grinned, pecs still bouncing like they had a mind of their own. "Look—'Dear Richmond staff, Jamie Tartt is—’" Flex, flex. "—the best footballer ya’ve ever seen." Flex, flex.

Y/N groaned, dropping her head into her hands. "Jamie."

"What?" he asked, completely unbothered. "This is a skill, Y/N. Not everyone can do this. I’ve trained for years to get this good."

She peeked at him from between her fingers. "Years?"

"Yeah," Jamie said, nodding sagely. "Blood, sweat, tears—" Flex, flex. "—all for this moment."

"Stop it," she laughed, finally lowering her hand.

"Never," Jamie declared, now making them jump simultaneously. "Bet ya didn’t know I had such talents, did ya?"

Y/N wanted to be annoyed, truly, but she was also undeniably entertained. She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh.

Jamie noticed. "Ohhh, ya think it’s funny, do ya?"

"No," she lied.

He smirked. "Alright, fine, but can ya do this?" And before she could stop him, he started making his pecs move in a perfect wave pattern, like they were rippling in slow motion.

Y/N lost it.

"Jamie, stop!" she wheezed, clutching her stomach as she laughed.

"See, babe? Ya love it," he said, grinning triumphantly.

She shook her head, still giggling, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "I married an idiot."

"Yeah, but ya married this idiot." Flex. Jamie leaned down, resting his hands on either side of her laptop, eyes sparkling with mischief.

His eyes lowered. "Ya think I could make a career outta this?"

"Absolutely not."

Jamie smirked, then suddenly stopped flexing and leaned in close. "Wanna see ‘em move somewhere else?"

"JAMIE!"

Y/N rolled her eyes and reached out, poking his chest. "Put a shirt on, Tartt, before you give me a heart attack."

His smirk widened. "Ain’t my fault ya fancy me so much."

"And yet, here I am regretting every life decision that led me to this moment."

Jamie just laughed, leaning in to kiss her nose. "Nah, babe. Best decision ya ever made."

And honestly? She couldn’t even argue.

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #ted lasso show #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #afc richmond #jamie tartt imagine

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gingerteafairy · 12 hours ago

Text

𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 + 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞

𝐝𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐰𝐬𝐤𝐢 – 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡

Dave would have nearly all the love languages, but these two fit him best. As Kick-Ass, he would go out of his way to solve conflicts in your life, often being a bit nosy. If he found out someone made you cry, that person could expect a serious conversation (a real talk—he couldn’t actually fight them). He loves hugs and never misses the chance, even when you’re busy. He adores studying and gaming with you on his lap. "Would you mind sitting on my lap? It's for my exam. Really important, okay?" #1 PDA king.

𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐞𝐢 𝐯𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐲 – 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡

Alexei would be the biggest fan of long night walks and picnics, where he could admire you and take in every detail of your world, from the sound of your laugh to the subtle way your breath deepens when he gets too close. If the conversation faded, he’d simply trace his fingers over your face, memorizing the texture of your skin and every hair in your brows, cherishing even the tiny imperfections you hated. "If you ever change, i fear that stars will fall with me to the ground. you're perfect this way."

𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐞 – 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬

He loves holding hands and kissing, yet he’s not a fan of being overly clingy and prefers other ways to show affection. He’d write songs for you, teach you how to play bass, and share headphones with you. He’d love when you visited the shop but wouldn’t let you help with the heavy work—he didn’t want you to get overworked. "You can help the cashier. You're good with numbers, right? Always thought you were smarter than me."

𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐫 – 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬

Tom is used to being praised, he loves having his ego stroked. This carries over into how he handles romance, where he’s quick to compliment you without overthinking it. “That’s really good, you’ve got talent.” “You look great today—did you do something with your hair?” Random gifts? Absolutely. Part of it is because he had the money and liked showing off, but deep down, it was because he loved seeing your surprised smile. “This? Oh, just bought it on sale.” (5K dollar jacket.)

𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 – 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

Pietro is impulsive—his actions tend to come before he fully thinks things through. If someone upset you or made you insecure, even if it was in the past, he’d probably end up in a scuffle. Too tired to go grocery shopping? In a flash, he’d grab everything you need. Forgot to thaw the meat for dinner? No problem, he’d use physics to handle it in no time. "You saw that? Only for you, baby."

𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 – 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Because his job is so unpredictable, Tangerine prefers to show affection when he’s with you. He’d sit you on his lap and listen to you talk about what happened while he was gone. It was his way of forgetting all the work chaos and focusing on how normal life could still be. He even taught you how to trim his mustache just to have you close. And of course, he’d always compliment your talents, beauty, and everything you did—with that signature dirty mouth of his. “Shit, darlin'. You’re so fucking good for me. love ya."

#x reader #imagine #reader insert #fanfic #aaron taylor johnson x you #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson fandom #aaron taylor johnson #alexei vronsky x you #alexei vronsky #dave lizewski #tangerine #robbie #angus thongs and perfect snogging #tom ryder #pietro maximoff #quicksilver

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brookediamonds · 1 day ago

Text

you belong to me | Axel Kovačević x Fem! Reader

Summary: Axel is a man of few words, however when he meets you, you're all he can think about. When it's time to head to Barcelona for the tournament, you see a new side of possessiveness from Axel you'd never seen before.

based off this edit

Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: smuttt (finally), oral (f receiving), sex, reader is on birth control, possessiveness, man-handling, jealous axel, 18+

Masterlist

(a/n: in honor of part 3 being released tomorrow here is my first ever Axel smut, detailed this time, hope y'all like it!)

gif is not mine

You had spent the last year in Hong Kong, training with the dojo 'The Iron Dragons' also known as the #1 dojo across the world according to the Sekai Taikai.

Being recruited by no other than Sensei Wolf from your last dojo had felt like an honor, you had no idea what it could lead to.

It lead you to be surrounded by other students who were just as talented, if not better than you. One of them being: Axel Kovačević.

He was quiet and closed off at first, but because you were like a moth to a flame, you found yourself drawn to the mystery of him.

You started off with small talk, complimenting him on his work ethic and fast reactive defense.

Eventually Axel let his guard down and realized you were not like the other students here. Everyone else was competitive and only looking out for themselves, whereas you just happened to be talented punching people in the face and wanted to experience a traveling team.

He took to you immediately, appreciating your go-with-the flow persona, and admired your outgoing approach to people.

But when you bring this attitude to Barcelona, Spain, he can't help but feel a knot tighten in his stomach as he watched your sparkly personality shine with other students at the tournament.

You're currently mingling with the male captain of the Cobra Kai team, giving him your best smile and flirty doe eyes as you spoke about how you were enjoying your time here.

Axel watched as the boy moved closer to you making him clench his fist by his sides. He let out a huff of frustration, not being able to withstand the way you were acting any longer.

You looked at him like that, you playfully pushed him when he made a jab at you, you giggled with a hand over your mouth when he made a lame dad joke, and now you were doing all of that with the guy?

No way.

Axel strides over to where you stood, not paying any attention to the dark haired boy across from you, before interrupting you mid-conversation.

"Sensei said we are not to make friends with opponents," Axel's jaw is tight, with his arms crossed over his chest. You bite back a smirk, completely aware of what you were doing.

You knew Axel had been watching your interaction with Kwon, and you wanted him to do something about it.

Kwon scoffed, turning to face the tall man in front of him. "Relax bro, we were just talking."

"It looked more than that," Axel mutters stepping to get into Kwon's face, tilting his head down to tower over the boy you had been flirting with.

"What are you, her boyfriend?" Kwon questions back, squaring up to Axel. You felt your stomach flip as his eyes drifted over to yours, a look of irritation written all over his face.

"Forget this," Axel mumbles with a shake of his head, turning on his heel to walk away. Guilt began to eat your conscious seeing his state.

"Axel," you called out to him as you began to walk after him, no longer paying attention to the Cobra Kai captain.

You turn a corner seeing him standing by the elevators, waiting for the doors to open.

"Axel, what the hell was that?" You ask approaching his side, eyebrows furrowed. You wanted to make him see you, but didn't think he'd actually get confrontational.

"I did not like the way he was looking at you, and you looking at him," Axel exhaled sharply, pressing the up arrow button repeatedly with his thumb.

"You didn't like the way he was looking at me?" You question back to him.

The elevator doors open, a few people filling out, Axel stepping inside once it's empty. You hop in the enclosed box, pressing the close button before anyone else could enter.

"I don't like seeing you with anyone like that," he states his dark blue eyes staying on the silver steel doors in front of him.

Finally, you were getting somewhere.

"Why?" You ask quietly, intertwining your hands behind your back. His eyes finally landed on yours, a feign of innocence held upon your face.

"You know why," he says his tone dropping low. You tilted your head slightly, with a shrug.

"I don't actually," you respond innonectly. "Enlighten me."

Axel is unable to tear his gaze away from you as you stare up at him with the same look you give him back in the dojo when you're taunting him.

He takes two steps forward towards you, his breathing heavy, before grabbing the sides of your face and smashing his lips against yours. You moan into his mouth, feeling a fire erupt in the pit of your stomach.

"I want you," he breathes out between kisses. "And I am done pretending that I don't."

You pull away from him, placing your hands firmly on his chest.

"Well it's about damn time," you smirk up at him. This is what you had been waiting for.

The elevators open revealing the floor you two were staying on, your rooms right across from each others. You saunter over to your room, pulling your key card out rom your back pocket, Axel trailing behind you as he watched your every move through hazy eyes.

"I was worried I wasn't gonna grab your attention," you bite back your grin as you glanced over your shoulder as you swiped your card through the door.

Axel scoffs, realizing this had been all planned. You wanted to get him jealous and confess his feelings for you.

"You set that up didn't you?" He tsk's laying a hand on the doorframe.

"Maybe," you taunt him turning to lean against your now cracked door.

"That was not funny," he says lowly, leaning in to cage you between his body and your hotel door.

You bite your lip, looking up at him through your lashes trying to contain the rapid heartbeat in your chest.

"It kind of was," you whisper sliding a hand up his torso slowly. Axel leans his face down to hover over your ear, his hot breath hitting the side of your face gently.

"If you wanted my attention, you should have just asked," he murmured sending shivers down your spine. "Because I don't like sharing."

You suppress a moan, feeling the heat pool between your thighs as he laid a soft kiss beneath your ear.

"And after tonight, I will make sure you know who you belong to," he growls into your warm skin.

Axel trails his nose up your neck, along your jaw, before diving in to connect his lips back to yours.

He wastes no time pushing the door to your hotel room open, guiding you backwards as you continued to explore each other's mouths.

As the door clicked shut, Axel places his large hands beneath your thighs, lifting you effortlessly from the ground before tossing you on to the soft mattress causing you to bounce lightly.

A surprised gasp left your lips as you landed on the bed, but it quickly melted into a breathy laugh.

"I've never seen you like this before," you say with a small smirk tugging on your lips. "I love it."

He runs a hand through his tousled hair, his dark blue iris's drinking you in like you were something he had been starving for. You had never had someone look at you the way Axel was right now. It made you feel sexy.

"You love when I what?" He's the one taunting you now. You're suddenly at a loss for words, a blush rising your cheeks as he pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side.

"I—uh," you stutter watching him as he moved to place his hands on either side of your head, entrapping you beneath him.

"Use your words," he exhales, his nose lightly brushing up against yours. Your mouth falls open as he teases you by grazing his lips over yours, leaving you aching for his kiss.

As you reach to wrap your arms around his shoulders, he's caught both your hands, slamming them into the mattress, and intertwining your fingers together.

"I'm waiting," he reminds you, giving you small pecks down the side of your face,

"I love, how, mmph—," you moan as he begins to kiss down your neck, softly suckling at a spot above your collarbone, his short hair tickling just under your chin.

"I love when you're possessive," you're finally able to breathe out. An evil grin stretches across Axel's face once he hears your confession.

Pleased with your words, he reconnects his lips with yours, sliding his tongue into your warm inviting mouth.

"Touch me, Axel," you beg him between kisses, your voice needy. Axel didn’t hesitate, he reached for you, his fingers tracing the hem of your shirt before slipping beneath the fabric.

The next few moments blurred into heated whispers and stolen breaths, clothes falling away piece by piece, forgotten on the hotel floor.

"You are so fucking beautiful," Axel murmurs as he kissed his way down your bare thighs.

"Axel," you sighed feeling the cool air hit your damp skin where he pressed his lips, his warm breath fanning across your inner thighs.

"Can I?..." Axel is pulling at the lace of your underwear, his heated gaze meeting yours. You nod without hesitation, lifting your hips up eagerly as he slides the black fabric down your legs.

He repositions himself between your legs, smoothly spreading your thighs apart revealing the most intimate part of you.

"This belongs to me," Axel whispers before licking a stripe up your wet slit making you gasp.

His tongue sent a rush of warmth through your body, your back arching off the bed as he began to delve deeper into your core.

You reached your hands down to run a hand through his soft hair, making Axel hum into your pussy, sending a vibration through you.

Soft moans escaped your mouth as you felt him lapping at your juices, his mouth enveloping you like you were his last meal.

Each flick of his tongue sent you withering, his lips nibbling softly at your clit making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Fuck, Axel," you whimper as he grabbed at your hands, intertwining your fingers together. This pushed you further down on to his tongue, your hips grinding down in to his warm mouth.

You felt the hot burning sensation build in the pit of your stomach, Axel keeping his actions at a fast pace.

"Axel, I'm— I'm gonna—" You're a whimpering mess, face flushed as he sped up his tongue's movements before taking your clit into his mouth sucking harshly on the bundle of nerves.

You let out a cry, your legs trembling around Axel's head as you came undone, a wave of ecstasy running through your blood as the tension released.

Axel worked you through your orgasm, relishing in your mess you were creating. What he created. Not Kwon, or those other guys trying to impress you.

When your legs relaxed, Axel crawled over your body, giving you an opened mouth kiss allowing you to taste yourself.

"Is this what you wanted, pretty girl?" His voice is low and dark making you squirm under his touch. "You wanted me to prove that you are mine?"

You nod breathlessly, heart pounding as his hands trailed up your curved sides, faintly whispering, "yes."

His lips brushed the corner of your mouth, a whine leaving your parted lips as he brushed the tip of his cock between your soaked folds.

"You belong to me, and only me," he reminds you before sliding into your tight cunt slowly, you letting out a stuttered gasp.

"Only you," you repeat back to him, your voice shaky and needy. Axel's long thick member stretched you out deliciously, the feeling overwhelming you as he split you in two.

"So tight," he grunts, softly biting into the crevice of your neck. You hoped it would mark so everyone could see. And secretly, so did Axel.

You snake your hands over his shoulders, your nails gently scratching down his back as he thrusted into you slowly, letting you adjust to his size.

When you wrap one of your legs over his waist, Axel takes this opportunity to shift into a deeper, rhythmic pace, almost hitting the end of your cervix due to his length.

Soft moans and cruses tumbled from your mouth with each stroke as Axel grunted in your ear, his face lingering next to yours.

"Feels so good, Axel," you whimper, indulging in the pleasure as he kept his pace steady.

"You feel so fucking good," he praises you, hovering his face above yours. You both lean in to give each other a sloppy kiss, a string of saliva drawing out as you disconnected.

As Axel felt his high about to approach, he reaches down between your legs finding his way to your clit.

Your body jerks feeling him circle at the most sensitive part of you, all while still driving his sensual thrusts.

"I want you to cum with me, baby," he pleads, his fingers drawing fast circles, working to give you the upmost pleasure.

The room filled with your cries, the same fiery feeling growing in your stomach for a second time.

"Axel!" His name is high-pitched as you reached your climax, your whole body trembling as he released into you, letting out a low groan with his nose resting on top of yours.

He rocked his hips into yours as you both came down from your high, panting to catch your breath.

You grab at Axel's face, softly pressing your lips together, letting him know that this was exactly where you wanted to be. That you were his, completely.

"I've always been yours," you whispered against his lips.

His forehead pressed against yours, breath heavy, his hands roaming over your skin lovingly.

"Say it again," he murmured, his voice rough, brushing his nose against yours.

A smile etched across your face before responding softly, "I'm yours."

Axel exhaled sharply as if he had been holding his breath this entire time. His lips found yours again, slower this time, his action filled with something deeper, more emotional.

Once you've untangled yourself from each other, you find yourself perched on top of Axel's chest, slowly tracing random shapes on to his porcelain skin with your pointer finger.

"You okay?" Axel checks in with you, his tone now soft and quiet, all of the tension from earlier, gone.

"I'm perfect," you reassure him, a grin plastered on your lips.

"Good," he murmurs, shifting on to his side, pulling you against his chest, his strong arms encircling you with a quiet protectiveness.

You melt into him, nuzzling your face into his shoulder, fully enjoying this new dynamic you two have uncovered.

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(A/n: oof i saw that edit on tik tok and my gears were turningggg. anyways, peace out my friends, i shall return tomorrow AFTER i finish the finale in tears :') i don't know how soon i'll be able to update that other fic that's tied in with the series, but i'll do my best to start it tomorrow. until then, hope this was okay!! like, and comment!!)

#axel cobra kai #axel kovacevic imagines #axel kovacevic x reader #axel kovacevic #cobra kai #axel x reader #miguel diaz #sammiguel #sam larusso #kwon jae sung #robby keene #eli moskowitz

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