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bugsbucky · 4 years ago

Text

DITTO

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are on a mission and forced to share the king sized bed. Which wouldn’t usually have been a problem if you and Bucky didn’t hate each other’s guts.

Warnings: teasing, flirting, possibly some sexual tension, enemies to lovers, language, foreplay, implied smut.

Word Count: 1,651 (ooops)

Authors Notes: this is for @the-ss-horniest-book-club 24 Hour Surprise Drabble in collaboration with @the-ce-horniest-book-club / @the-th-horniest-book-club and @the-mcu-horniest-book-club. Today’s theme was Tropes and I picked There’s Only One Bed and Enemies To Lovers from the list! Hope you enjoy ❤️

“Oh yeah baby. A king size bed just for me!” You squealed in delight as you face planted into the soft mattress.

“You mean, a king size bed just for us?” Bucky mumbled setting his duffel bag down and toeing off his combat boots.

It was a long trip, Upstate New York to California for the weekend. Okay, well maybe it wasn’t that long but it seemed that way because you were stuck with Barnes the whole time.

Tony needed you and Barnes to come here and work undercover, to retrieve some information from club members about some illegal trade of hydra weapons, or something like that. You weren’t really sure since whenever Tony started to talk, your ears closed up most of the time.

But you couldn’t deny the gorgeous ocean view from the rented condo Tony had found. The french doors were opened, the ocean breeze swooping throughout the condo. It was obviously a step up from the grotty motel room you found yourself staying in just a week ago.

“No Mr Barnes. This is my bed. That’s your bed.” You wagged your finger to the floor and Bucky scoffed, stepping in front of you with his big arms folded over that ridiculous buff chest of his.

“I’m not a dog Y/N. I don’t give a fuck if you like it or not but I am sleeping in this bed with you tonight. Feel free to take the floor, I don’t mind.” He grinned and if it wasn’t for your phone ringing, you might have knocked that grin off his face.

“What is it Tony?!” You snapped unintentionally. Bucky laughed and started to unpack his duffel bag as if to piss you off even more and make a point that he was staying in here tonight.

In your dreams you handsome, gorgeous asshole.

“Whoa there. Who took a shit in your bed? Anyway I have an update. I need you and Barnes at the club by 7PM sharp.” Tony gave the orders and you rolled your eyes, flipping Bucky off when you saw he was laying on his side of the bed.

“Yes boss.” You sassed and threw your phone at Bucky. “Get off the fucking bed and get dressed.” You ordered, grabbing your own clothes and storming into the bathroom. You slammed the door shut and groaned when Bucky yelled through the door.

“YES BOSS. Right away BOSS.” His voice was muffled behind the door and it might have been pointless but you flipped him off once again.

“I hate that fucking guy.” You muttered, turning the jet shower on. You just hoped there would be free food at the party.

***

The mission was a success. You’re not sure how you and Barnes managed to keep it together for so long without being down each other’s throats, but you did and it paid off.

You got the information you were looking for recorded on a small device that was strapped to your thigh. Now it meant you could enjoy the next couple of days relaxing, grabbing a sun tan and avoiding Barnes as much as possible.

“I’m really surprised you didn’t act like such a fucking brat tonight doll.” Bucky complimented as he took his suit off.

“I’m surprised you didn’t wedge your head up your ass.” You retorted as you undressed and changed into your comfy pyjamas. You couldn’t wait to sleep in your king size bed tonight. Your comment earned a snort from the man who just loved the tease and piss you off. It was his mission, it just didn’t matter what he was doing, he would always find a way to squeeze in a moment to annoy you.

“Yeah well, the only thing that did go up my ass was my boxers. I hate wedgies.” He chuckled and you wondered for a moment if he was testing you. He slipped his slacks off and threw them on the chair in the corner of the room and pulled the duvet cover back.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? I told you this was my bed.” You walked around to his side of the bed with your hands on your hips and your jaw gaped open as he proceeded to make himself as comfortable as fucking possible.

“Look. We’re not fucking five, we’re mature adults and the bed is big enough for both of us. Stop acting like a spoiled princess and get into bed and sleep.”

“No. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“I just did now get into bed before I throw you on the mattress and sleep on top of you.” He warned, pulling the duvet back when you refused to budge. “I’ll fucking do it.”

“I don’t care.” You muttered and dropped your gaze to your feet.

“What?”

“You know what.” Bucky swung his legs over the edge of the bed and rested his palms on his -holy shit- muscled thighs that you just noticed. The man has been holding out on you. “If you wanna sleep on the floor, be my guest.” He smirked.

“If you hate me I don’t know why you’re trying to so hard to get me into bed with you.” You scoffed and shook your head. You turned away but his hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, gently pulling you back.

“I don’t hate you. You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, you just annoy me which I thought was why you hated me.”

“I annoy you because you hate me and keep calling me an asshole.”

“I call you an asshole because you-”

“Shut up and come ‘ere. This could go on all night and I’m dead tired.”

“No I’m not done yet. So you were- AH!” You squealed as Bucky hoisted you up over his shoulder and threw you on the mattress as he promised earlier. You bounced and giggled, the feeling being similar to jumping on an 8ft trampoline. Bucky also kept his other promise and climbed on top of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You giggled up at him. His large hands took your smaller ones and held them above your head. His hips slipped between your now open legs like a piece of jigsaw puzzle.

“I told you that if you weren’t going to get into bed that I’d throw you on it and sleep on top of you. I’m a man of my word doll. Now goodnight.” He pecked your lips quickly and shifted around to find a comfortable position.

Of course as he was moving his hips, his clothed member was becoming hard and kept rutting against your core. You sighed softly, your legs wrapping around his waist on their own accord.

Bucky’s face was buried in your neck, breathing in the delicious scent you showered yourself in earlier during your shower. His teeth gently grazed the skin, biting and sucking to leave a mark.

“Bucky- what the hell are we doing?” You whispered against his ear. His hair curtained his face but you could see the once blue orbs had changed into a lustful shade of black.

“I don’t know doll. But I really don’t hate you, never have and never will. It’s quite the opposite actually.” His cheeks were dusted in a cute shade of pink as those black orbs locked onto yours.

“Ditto.” Your blush matched his, a low growl from your lips when his tip unintentionally knocked against your clit.

Bucky’s tongue darted out to wet his dry lips before he lowered them to yours. They were soft and warm.

Your lips parted and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in and fight for dominance. His non-bionic hand travelled under your sleep shirt and cupped your soft breast. His thumb and forefinger pinched your hardening nipple, eliciting a soft moan from you in response.

“Are you sure you want this? Once I stop I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.” He panted, his minted breath fanned in your face.

“I’m sure Buck.” Those three words was all it took for Bucky to move his lips from your lips to your throat and down to the swells of your breasts. He pulled off your top, throwing it into the corner of the room somewhere as he continued his journey.

His lips found your nipples, kissing, gently biting and sucking. Your moans grew louder and your panties became more soaked by each passing second.

Once he gave both breasts attention, he continued kissing down your stomach, nipping and sucking any bits of skin his teeth could grip. He was marking you and that thought turned you on even more.

He settled between your legs, a wet patch on the front of your cotton panties giving away just how aroused you were. His fingers hooked on each side of the waistband and slowly peeled them down your legs.

He licked his lips when he was faced with his prize; your glorious wet pussy. Your juices had seeped from your entrance and dripped to the inner side of your thighs.

Bucky kissed his way up your legs, taking his sweet time and giving both legs his full attention just like he did with your breasts.

He looked up through hooded eyes and watched as you were moaning impatiently and squirming under his touches and kisses. You were this wet and he didn’t even fuck you yet. He decided he had teased you enough and pressed a light kiss to your mound.

“Are you sure doll?” He asked for a second time. You hugged out impatiently and propped yourself up on your elbows.

“Bucky. If you do not fuck me right now I will personally tear off your dick and fuck myself with it. Under- ohhh.” You moaned as his tongue delved between your lips, finally putting his tongue on the sensitive nub you’ve been desperate for.

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lemontwst · 4 years ago

Note

Consider this: Vil, Jamil, Ruggie and Sebek getting third prostrate milked to an inch of its life (they’re screaming and moaning, tearful eyes and a splotchy face with their tounge sticking out and their limbs twitching madly. Bonus points if the cum is collected into a cup and the boys drink it)

after careful deliberation, the council has decided that you, anon, are the person with the biggest brain on this planet. we pray your days are lustful and your boys dumb subby sluts. also i hope you don’t mind that i improvised a bit with the cum eating stuff, i didn’t want to make these too samey!

content warnings: degradation, cum eating, mindbreak, b/dsm, (light) asphyxiation.

𝓥𝓲𝓵 𝓢𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓮𝓷𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓽

There is something almost primordial about your desire to break Vil into tiny, useless pieces. Maybe it’s the fact that perfection is his entire raison d'être, the only thought that bounces around in that little empty head of his 24/7.

The feeling of sadistic satisfaction that courses through your veins when you take the queen down is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. After hours of torrid overstimulation you seem to have achieved your goal, because right now, your Vil looks like a common whore. His hair is falling out of his pins, a messy curtain of gold framing his sweaty top-model features. Mascara runs down his face, his eyeshadow is completely ruined, and yet he still manages to look so unbelievably hot, chest pressed against the floor and ass up and at your mercy.

“You sound like such a slut when you moan, Vil.” He lets out a long, wanton whine when you pull back the dildo you’ve been using to torment his asshole. The repeated stretching feels so delicious, his hole is hot and dripping with his own cum, a gift left behind by your cruel fingers a few minutes before. Back arched in a submissive arch, Vil’s tongue sticks out and traces his moist lips as he imagines licking your fingers clean, the filthy image makes his dripping cock throb and ache for your touch, but that’s not how you want to play today.

No, you want to make him come over and over again with his ass and his ass alone. You want to milk him dry, to hear him cry and beg for a release you’re not sure you’re in the mood to grant him.

“Just...like...that......” Vil meowls, his fingers helplessly grasping at the cold floor, looking for something, anything to latch onto. When he doesn’t find it, he hastily moves his hands to his ass, grabs the firm flesh so tight it curves between his fingers and spreads his butt cheeks, still managing to look as graceful as a swan despite the fact that he’s inviting you to plow him harder, “More...more...! Make a mess of my insides!” His hips shake like crazy every time you thrust the dildo deep inside his ass, his precum keeps flowing out of his dick like a broken dam, pooling under him in a disgusting display. It’s reaching places that my fingers can’t! This is the first time I’ve been touched there, the first time that my prostate got pounded like this!~

...Yeah, you’re done with this. Vil lets out a disappointed cry as you take out the dildo in a swift, rough movement. His wide eyes find yours and you’ve never seen him look so upset, “Wha-- why? I was so clo--ugyah!!” He squeals when you spank his ass hard. Unperturbed, you do it again and the sound resonates through the empty room alongside Vil’s piggy noises. The lewd body in front of you shakes and then goes painfully still. C-coming! Vil twitches, tears running down his face as he feels his cum dripping out of his twitching cock in thick, shameful globs.

Then, like a puppet whose strings have been cut off, he slumps to the floor, panting and shaking with a stunned expression on his face. He yelps when you spank him again, his mind racing as he tries to come up with the right thing to say.

“Sho...rry.......I’m shorry......!” He whines, sounding nothing like the stubborn, untouchable queen you know. “Please...forgive me...master....” Vil sighs, giving you a long, adoring look from beneath his long, fluttering lashes.

“I’m not sure you deserve it.” You speak plainly, holding back a smirk as Vil freezes up. Your boyfriend looks at you like you just slapped him and well, technically you did, but he was enjoying it. Now he just looks...terrified, miserable like you’ve never seen him.

“Still, while you were squirming and crying like it’s mating season, I got you a little present. If you’ll accept it, I’ll forgive you for being so brazen.” Without looking away from his confused face, you slide the small chalice that had been hiding under his dick this entire time in front of him. It’s a beautiful piece you got from the headmaster for Christmas, a golden cup with the rim decorated with rubies. Like the Holy Grail, except this is a cup of sin filled to the brim with Vil’s cum.

“......Eh.....eh........eeh....?” He mutters dumbly, trembling from the overstimulation that still wrecks him from head to toe, “Tha-that’s my...mine...?” His empty eyes focus on the chalice, “Are you going to...make me drink that...?”

“Do you want it?” You raise an amused eyebrow.

Of course not! That’s disgusting! It looks like condensed milk, that you would dare show him such a perverted thing is.......it’s.......his...... like thick cream...the proof of your love for him, and his love for you... hot and sticky, going down his throat-- Vil pants like he just ran a marathon, his dignity beaten, bruised and forgotten, and eagerly nods his head, his empty eyes never leaving the chalice.

"I asked you a question, you dumb bitch."

Immediately snapping back to attention at the sound of your cold voice, Vil looks up at you and smiles sultrily through the drool and the tears, wiggling his ass as if to tempt you, "Yes, please master ♡ aaah~" he opens his pink mouth and sticks out his tongue, looking more like a dog than a man.

You bring the chalice to his lips and smile when Vil doesn’t even flinch. The smell is so pungent, but he doesn't seem to notice as he gulps down mouthful after mouthful of sperm.

The realization that he’s doing something so fucked up with you makes his cock throb once again. How many times can a man come in one day? Vil shakes and struggles to keep himself propped up on his elbows, his head shuts down and he swallows another mouthful of cum. A dry orgasm. Sweat runs down his shoulders and back and he gleefully looks up at you. His fingers twitch, tears spill from his eyes, the thought of being fucked by you until he dies burns every one of his synapses and he sighs, disappointed that nothing came out. Ah...I cant drink like this.

𝓢𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓴 𝓩𝓲𝓰𝓿𝓸𝓵𝓽

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. You watch with mild interest as Sebek’s big frame convulses in his bondage, droplets of sweat running down his face and chest in wet little trails that make you want to lick him all over. ...Or fan him a bit with one of his notebooks, seeing as he looks like he might be on the verge of a heatstroke.

Your shibari technique has become quite refined, if you do say so yourself! Sebek can do nothing but jerk and squirm against the red rope that wraps around his body like a work of art, stuck on his knees in front of you with his hands tied firmly behind his back and his engorged dick bobbing up and down every time he convulses. The rope has worked some beautiful scarlet lines all over his pale skin. You can already tell he’ll make sure his clothes will cover them up properly, but the both of you will know that the harsh rope burns are there, and Sebek will go hard every time the friction against his shirt makes the pain flare up. It will be just another one of your dirty little secrets.

“Ah--! (y/n)-sama…hm!!” You mercifully lower the vibration of the toy stuck in his ass, giving him a few seconds to collect his thoughts (which are very few and far between). Then, just as he opens his mouth to beg for mercy, you flick the remote to the highest setting all in one go. Sebek screams and convulses once again, his face a sloppy mess as he’s brought violently to his climax, “I can’t...move….ah…now I’m...ah!”

But the satisfaction doesn’t come and Sebek is in shambles, tears falling down his cheeks in big, pathetic drops. The cock ring at the base of his member strains against the flow of blood trapped desperately in his shaft, his dick standing taller and harder than you’ve ever seen it. But you don’t remove the cock ring. You just stare at him with a sadistic twinkle in your eyes.

“Aaaah (y/n)-sama…!! this is too much...kuh--?!” Sebek jolts, eyes wide as he grits his teeth. Again?! His stupid moans fill the room, a concert of long and shaky ‘aaaahs’ and ‘ooohs’ as he sticks out his tongue and drools all over himself, “Ah! I’m going to cum!” He’s nothing short of delirious as an unsatisfying climax hits him again. his entire body tenses up only for a wave of desperation to come crashing into him as his cum remains cruelly trapped inside his dick. Won’t come out won’t come out won’t come out! He sobs, giving you a pleading look from under his wet lashes, “(y/n)-sama...there is sho much of you i-inside m-my head!” He’s not making sense anymore. Sebek vaguely recognizes this, but it doesn’t matter. The only thing he wants right now is to cum his brains out here on his knees in front of you.

“Aww, you’re so cute.” You lower the intensity of the vibrator and reach out to gently pat his head. Sebek immediately nuzzles into your hand, like a big, affectionate dog. “Don’t worry, love, I’ll make you come right away.” You wipe a tear away with your thumb and almost burst out laughing at the look of immense relief that immediately crosses his face.

“Aah...! Thank you very much! Thank you very--” Sebek’s voice dies in his throat as he watches you get up and walk away, exiting the room without looking back. For a brief, heartbreaking moment he thinks you're going to leave him there. Panic settles in his stomach the more you linger, so far away from him, too far away from him…

But then you come back, casually tossing the jacket of his school uniform in front of him and Sebek exhales a loud sigh of relief. He doesn’t get it.

“I’m turning it up again, Sebek.” You wave the vibrator’s remote in front of his face and he gulps nervously, but still gives you an eager nod of his head. Despite the warning, he’s not prepared for how terribly you tease him in the moments that follow. His voice comes out louder and louder as you turn the vibration up and down, up and down. The uneven rhythm makes Sebek see stars, his shoulders lock up painfully, his mind spirals down a filthy, lusty hole as he calls out your name like he’s praying. He’s so close. And when he does cum, he lets out the loudest scream yet, jerking forward so violently you worry for a second he might lose his balance and hit his forehead against the ground.

He doesn’t. His torso jerks forward and his head hangs heavy, his disheveled hair dripping with sweat and obscuring his eyes as he recoils from his earth shattering orgasm. Sebek blinks in and out of consciousness, barely registering the feeling of his cum leaking out of his dick in long spurts. Still coming out… he licks his salty lips, amazed by how much cum you can pull out of him.

That’s when he sees it, at the corner of his hazy vision. His semen splattered all over his uniform. All over his Diasomnia. Sebek takes long, heavy breaths, feeling something in his mind dissolve. Something important, like a part of him.

“Sebek, you’re so dirty.” You smile sweetly at him, like an angel he thinks, even as you bring the dirty jacket up to his face, right under his nose. “Clean it up.”

He slowly tilts his head up, his body is so tired it feels like he’s drowning in quicksand, then he sticks his tongue out and methodically wipes the semen off the fabric, looking up at you from time to time to see if he’s pleasing you. The tip of his tongue tastes like something bitter mixed with fabric freshener. His hot breaths puff up as soon as they come out of his mouth and he can feel himself getting hard again. As his thoughts turn to lascivious little scenarios of you making him climax over and over again, he obediently licks his cum off of something that was important to him once. Oh well. It’s not you, so he can’t really bring himself to care.

𝓡𝓾𝓰𝓰𝓲𝓮 𝓑𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓱𝓲

Ruggie couldn’t stand your fingers inside him at first. He would get so nervous, trying to deflect every time you brought up wanting to play with his ass, like it was this sort of disgraceful thing he didn’t even want to think about. It’s not like he was afraid of letting you have his way with him (he sure enjoyed it when you rode him into unconsciousness), it’s just that… he was already so scrawny, he didn’t want you thinking he was some sort of pathetic, needy loser, no matter how much he loved to let you take control.

...But that feels like such a long time ago. He was a total moron.

Ruggie lets out a quiet moan and bites his index finger, his heart beating like a war drum against his ribcage as your slick fingers stretch his asshole. Fuck, this is the best, he raises his back in a pretty arch, licking his lips as you scissor him gently. You pump two fingers in and out of him, stretching him nice and slow and Ruggie responds to your playful ministrations by thrusting his hips into your hand, his mouth falling open and his tail trembling slightly under him. He makes the most beautiful face, cloud-colored eyes glossy and unfocused, his tiny fangs barely visible behind his parted lips, then you suddenly push against his prostate and he throws his head back, drool dripping down the corner of his lips.

The squelching sounds of your lubed fingers sliding in and out of his asshole almost make him cum on the spot. “(y/n)...” He pants and squirms in front of you, his hips going numb as your fingers pick up the pace. “Use my ass every day~” He thrusts back into your fingers without shame, his cock bouncing with every shake of his vulgar hips, “Stretch my asshole every day and make me remember that it’s yours...” Ruggie spreads his legs wider, making an obscene M shape as he leaks precum all over himself.

“You’re such a good boy…” You coo down at him, deceivingly tender as your fingers pick up the pace and mercilessly tease his prostate. Your boyfriend grits his teeth and twitches wildly at the sudden, relentless stimulation, back arching off the bed as the ache in his dick becomes unbearable. You don’t even need to touch it before he explodes, climaxing purely from having you play with his slutty asshole.

The sheets are a mess, soaked in his sweat. Ruggie falls back into the bed and stares up at the ceiling, the erotic smile you gave him as you watched him cum swimming in front of his eyes like a filthy movie on loop. You tap his cheek and he immediately gives you his full attention. You’re the best, he gives you a dopey smirk as he takes your fingers into his mouth, happily sucking on your fingertips as his eyes slowly go down the length of your body, So sexy.

“My lovely baby… you’re hungry, aren’t you?” You give his dick a few pumps and he shivers, muttering something about being ‘still sensitive’, then you bring your dirty hand up to his lips.

Ruggie blinks owlishly at you, looking at your fingers with a tired yet curious expression. His eyes go from your fingers to your face then back down again. You-- you want me to…? His head still feels like mush because of you, his thoughts are all jumbled and sluggish. He lacks the energy to make any coherent decisions at the moment, so he does the only thing he can do. He dazedly opens his mouth and gasps when you shove your fingers inside. The bitter taste hits him immediately and he recoils, but your hand mercilessly follows.

Drool drips down your fingers as he whines, his dick getting hard again as you start fucking his mouth with cum coated fingers. Whimpering in the back of his throat, Ruggie surrenders to his libido and swirls his tongue around your fingers, spreading his cum all over the walls of his hot mouth.

You move to pull your fingers away and he chases, sucking on your skin like a baby and giving your fingers little love bites. “Ah!...No…” He cries when you finally pull away, a thick string of saliva and semen connecting his lips and your fingers, “(y/n)....oh fuck, there’s no way I ain’t gonna get hooked on this…” His tail swishes excitedly against the bed as he watches you scoop up more of his cum.

This time he opens wide before you even have time to raise your hand, his eager face dripping with all sorts of fluids. So hungry...

𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓵 𝓥𝓲𝓹𝓮𝓻

It says a lot.about the kind of conqueror you are, when you've managed to tease Jamil into obedience.

He looked so uncomfortable in this position at first, the embarrassed scowl on his face as he glared at you from over his shoulder only making the curve of his back and his vulnerable ass look that much more adorable.

Wrists bound tightly under the wooden seesaw, Jamil is forced to lean his chest on the plank for support as his naked lower half is left standing, legs spread and ass in the air, completely vulnerable. You knew your boyfriend was athletic, but you're still impressed he's managed to stand in that position for so long without his legs giving out. Especially considering how badly his legs are shaking.

All of him is shaking, really. His shoulders, his hips, his leaking cock, there is not a centimetre on his body that's not trembling like a leaf. The three vibrators you stuffed in his ass have finally destroyed his composure after hours of sexual torture. What...is...this...! The repeated orgasms are wrecking his body and with the way he's crying and moaning like a wanton bitch you think his brain might be fried too. Ho-how…? I've become...a weird person...

The vibrators all work at a different speeds to keep your precious Jamil on his toes. You've kept them from falling out of his ass by blocking his hole with tape. It looks like a cute little button, and you sometimes push on it and make Jamil cry out in pure bliss. The pressure against his prostate is too much. Toomuchtoomuchtoomuch! Jamil sticks his tongue out and goes cross eyed, desperately pushing back with his ass as he greedily tries to scrape for more stimulation. His poor, abused dick throbs cutely, but nothing comes out. Still, Jamil feels so amazing he thinks he might pass out. He pants and rests his head on the plank, sweat and drool darkening the wood under him, So good…

He barely registers it when you move in front of him, hypnotized by the quiet buzzing of the vibrators stuck in his ass.

“Are you having fun, Jamil?” You tap his forehead and he slowly moves his clouded eyes to look up at you. “I have a present for you, you know! It’s your reward for accepting all my love like a good boy.”

You suddenly place something in front of him and Jamil stops thinking entirely. What...is that…? He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand anything anymore, every cell in his body is screaming at him to look away but he just can’t, like he’s swallowed poison and is now completely paralyzed. He raises his head and the smell of sex hits him right in the face.

The sight of his favorite snapback filled with cum lights his body up again, Jamil shivers and lets out a string of soft, quiet gasps as he comes all over himself, I’ve been filling this up...all this time… “Aah...haha…” his eyelids slide halfway shut. The dark blush that paints the bridge of his nose and the sweat that drips off his chin make him look so indecent you almost feel like taking a picture.

Slowly, like he's pretending to be conflicted, Jamil lowers his head and sticks his tongue out, gasping when he laps up the first little mouthful of cum. “Ah…” It tastes horrible, how do you always swallow when he comes into your mouth...? Jamil takes another lick, and another, “Ah...ah…” it’s so sticky and unpleasant when it goes down his throat. The vibrators in his ass feel oddly comforting now, tears start running down his face and his mind goes blank. It’s delicious.

“Ha…...haa....agh--!” He splutters when your hand slams his face down into the hat, eyes going wide as his chin splashes ungraciously into the pool of cum. He coughs and struggles but you keep him pinned down, forcing him to gulp in large mouthfuls of semen. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he struggles to breathe. His cum is everywhere-- in his nostrils, on his cheeks, it sticks to the roof of his mouth and down the walls of his throat, Jamil keeps on choking and spluttering, and just as he feels his consciousness drift away, you forceful pull his head up by his braids.

He coughs violently, barely registering the pain in his scalp, his blood pumping with adrenaline. He looks more unfocused than ever, eyes like dark glass and strings of warm cum covering his pretty face, the white of his semen striking against his tan skin.

You give him a fond look and lightly shake that head of his you just fucked stupid, "Was it really good, baby?"

Jamil chuckles softly, he sluggishly moves to lean closer to you, but his bound wrists stop him from going far. God, he really wants to touch you. "Really good, master…"

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twst #ruggie bucchi #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #sebek zigvolt #citrus #gn!reader #scenario #FANGIRL SQUEALS #WHO'S A GOOD BOY?? WHO'S A GOOD BOY????#JAMIL IS!!! <33333 #anyways for my subby readers #the next few posts are for you i promise

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barney-james · 5 years ago

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Quarantine || Steve Rogers x Reader SMUT

HiRequest: {anon} Girl that Chris smut is one of my favorites now. It is ok if I request some Steve Rogers quarantine fluff or smut?

Warnings: unprotected vanilla sex, supper fluffy

*not my gif*

The light pitter-patter of the morning rain against the window sill slowly pulls you from your comfortable sleep. Your eyes attempt to flutter open, but you’re momentarily blinded by the faint sun light drifting through the curtains. You fill your lungs with a deep breath and bury yourself deeper into the arms wrapped around you. Your boyfriend lies next to you, sound asleep with his arms wrapped so tight around you, it’s as if he thought you would break if he doesn’t. You love Steve’s level of care for you, always making you feel loved.

You relish the moment, trying to fall back asleep, but your mind had already woken up and started its day. After a moment, you give in to your restlessness and carefully pry yourself out of Steve’s arm. He groans and pouts in his sleep when he feels you leave his side. You kiss his forehead and head into the en suite bathroom to take your morning shower.

When you return to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around your body and your toothbrush in your mouth, Steve is still asleep. The covers pushed back as he lays on his back, his broad chest fully exposed. The covers come up to just below the already low waist band of his boxer briefs, exposing his v-lines and the light happy-trail you love so much.

Steve hums, but does not move. “You just going to stare, doll?” he asks in his gravely morning voice. That voice just does indescribable things to you, and tries to lure you back into bed with the beautiful man. Nevertheless, you were already awake and had planned your day in your head.

“Sorry,” you mumble with a school-girl-like smile, pushing yourself off the door frame and towards the closet across the room.

Steve props himself on one of his elbows, rubbing his face in an attempt to force himself awake. “What time is it?” he groans. The cloudy sky still letting plenty of the Brooklyn sun into the room.

You look at the night stand by your side of the bed, realizing you had not checked the time since you got up. “8:46,” you read the clock and open the closet door. You pull out your favorite silk thong and matching bralette, a tank top, and yoga pants.

“Fuck,” Steve pouts. “It’s way to fucking early, baby. We’re quarantined -- we literally have nothing to do. Come back to bed.” He lays on his side, watching you pick out your clothes from the messy drawers.

“Nope,” you say simply and turn back to the bed, going to grab your phone from the night stand.

“Why not?” he inquires. “You know you wanna spend all day against me, babe.”

You look up into his pleading eyes. His hand subtly slides down his side and into his underwear, but pushing the covers farther down the bed to make sure you notice the small damp spot.

You bite your lip, and head back to the bathroom with your clothes to change. You’d do it in the bedroom, but you don’t want Steve to get too excited. As you pass his side of the bed, he grips the end of your towel and pulls it from your body, leaving you naked before him. You stop and turn to him, smiling but rolling your eyes and go into the bathroom, leaving the door open.

“Why not?” he repeats his question.

“Because,” you begin, picking up your thong and bending over to put it on, your back facing Steve, revealing your bare cunt to him momentarily before pulling the garment all the way up.

“Because..?” Steve waits for the rest of your sentence as he watches you pull the tight pants over you butt. He grips himself at the sight, trying to relieve the building pressure in his groin.

You turn back to him as you pull your top over your head. “I’m going to clean the apartment, Steve.”

“You don’t have to do that, honey,” he pleads. “Really, it’s fine.”

“Every room is a disaster,” you laugh. “It sure as hell is bother me, but I know it’s bothering your decluttered head space.” He sighs, defeated, and you walk back into the bedroom, leaning on your hands over him. You lean closer to him, your lips brushing against his ear. You smirk as you feel his body tense in anticipation. “You know the rules, Stevie,” you remind him of the rule you share. No touching yourself. Why would you when you have a partner with you 24/7? You straighten up, kissing his lips gently. His hand grabs the side of your face, evidently trying to deepen the sweet kiss. You pull back from his lips, silently denying his request, and look into his eyes as you hum pleased, your teeth pulling your bottom lip into your mouth. You peck his lips one last time and go to head out of the room. “Oh,” you say, turning back to him momentarily when you reach the bedroom door. “I’m going to make french toast, so you might wanna get up so it doesn’t get cold.” You wink and walk out of the room, purposely leaving the door open to aggravate him.

You hear his muffled voice as he yells into a pillow frustrated. As you begin to cook breakfast, you hook your phone up to the speakers and play your music.

Steve comes out of the bedroom about a half hour later, his hair wet and sweatpants hanging low on his hips as his simple blue tee clings to his chest. He grabs the plate you left out for him and takes a seat at the island as you continue to clean the kitchen.

“Steve?”

He hums a ‘what,’ prompting you to continue.

“Did you break the rule?” You look over your shoulder at him innocently.

“No,” he says stern with hard eyes, but with a mouth full of toast, making it kind of lose the edge. He swallows his mouthful. “I took a cold shower.”

You look back down to the dishes, smiling to yourself pleased.

He continues his breakfast with no conversation, and carries his plate over to the sink to wash it when he’s done.

“I’ll get it, baby,” you smile at him.

“Thanks,” he says. “I’ll be in my office.” He kisses your cheek and his hand smacks your ass playfully before he heads out of the kitchen and into the office.

You deep clean the living area and organize as you go before going into the bedroom. You make the bed, start the laundry, and repeat your process in the bedroom and bathroom. You vacuum and sweep the whole apartment and water the plants last.

A couple hours pass between Steve leaving to his office and you finishing the rest of the house, and Steve had still not left his office. You decided, since you knew the room was also a mess, you’d clean his office finally, seeing what he’s up to.

You push the door open, and drop the cleaning bucket on the floor. Steve is sat in his overly-large lounge chair by the substantial bookshelf, facing the window with a book in his hands, seemingly unaware of your entering the room.

You walk past him, towards the bookshelf to straighten out the books before dusting, but a sizable hand grabs your wrist. Steve pulls you away from the bookshelf and into his lap as he throws his book onto the floor. He pulls your thighs on either side of his own, making you straddle him comfortable in the expansive chair, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck. He wastes no time, gingerly cradling your right cheek in his hand and bringing your lips to his. His other lands on your waist, pushing your hips down to close the space between you and his lap. Your core comes down onto his covered semi.

You gasp at the feeling, nothing new, but every time as lovely as if it were, surprised that he’s already or still hard. He takes the opportunity of your open mouth to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue past your lips to explore your familiar mouth in a slow, loving kiss. You moan against his lips as his hand from your waist grazes up your side and up to your face, tucking your hair behind your ear before cradling your face with both his ample hands.

You can feel Steve’s dick further harden beneath you, making you crave him. The exact feeling you were avoiding just hours before. Since you had finished every other area in the house, you let Steve’s kiss entrance you as it always does, and your roll your hips against his. He groans into your mouth and kisses your harder. You pull your body closer to his, pressing your chest against his.

His solid arms leave your face and wrap themselves under your ass, holding you to him as he scoots to the edge of the chair and lifts you with him off of it. After having moved from his office to the bedroom in such a situate, he effortlessly carries you to the bedroom. He carefully drops you onto the side of the bed then pulls back from you, removing his shirt before crawling back over you. He wraps his arms under your shoulders as he lays on you with most of his weight in a loving embrace, reconnecting your lips in another passionate kiss. He rolls his hips, repeatedly pushing himself down onto you, both still covered and both groaning at the delicious friction.

Your hands roam up his shoulders and around his neck, fiddling with the littler hairs at the base like he likes. He squeezes your shoulders, holding you impossibly closer, then his warm hands find their way under your shirt, then under your bra, and massage your breasts. You arch your chest into his hands, and his kisses maneuver down your jaw and neck, sucking and nibbling lightly on the spots he knows makes you squirm. After a few moments assaulting your neck and breasts, he pulls away, sliding his hands farther up under your shirt and removing it from your body, followed by your bralette.

“Take the rest off, baby girl,” Steve instructs you, getting off the bed and removing his own pants.

You sit up, slide your fingers under the waist band of your yoga pants and push them down your legs. “Damn, Stevie,” you smirk up at your boyfriend teasingly. “I didn’t know you needed me this bad.”

“I always want you, Y/n,” he explains, looking at you as he removed his sweatpants. “This quarantine shit is making it worse -- I’m stuck with you 24/7. It’s so damn hard to control myself.”

“Stuck?” you challenge.

“You know what I mean,” he says, pushing his boxers down his legs, letting his thick hard cock spring free. “It’s just hard to not fuck you every waking minute.” His foot gets caught coming out of his underwear, and he falls forward onto the edge of the bed.

You giggle at your clumsy boyfriend, leaning over to him and pulling him up towards you. “I’m flattered,” you whisper as you pull his lips back to yours. He places his hands on the bed on either side of you, pushing you to lay back with just his mouth. He kisses back down your neck and starts to go down your chest until you stop him.

“Steve, stop,” you say breathlessly. He stops with his lips in the valley of your breasts and looks up at you. “You know I love the feeling of that beard between my legs,” you continue, brushing your fingers through his beard. “But I need you, now.”

He smirk and pushes himself up, hovering over you.”You want it?” he growls, leaning down to kiss you, but pulling back just as his lips graze yours, leaving you whining.

“Yes,” you whimper, and his lips graze yours again before pulling away again. “Steve, please,” you beg.

“Good girl,” he says and finally attacks your lips with his own. You wrap your arms around his shoulders again as he presses the tip of his cock to your wet folds, running it through them to get himself slick. Your nails dig into the top of his back and you moan into the kiss, your signal telling him you’re ready, and he pushes into you in one stroke, stopping once he’s bottomed out to let you adjust. You wrap your legs around his waist, digging the heels of your feet into his butt, wordlessly telling him to move while your lips move in sync with his continuously. He pulls out so just his head is left inside you, then pushes back in, setting a sweet slow pace, but gradually picking it up. You moan against his mouth, wrapping your legs tighter around him to ask him to go faster. He obliges, and the new rhythm hits you perfectly. Your nails drag down his back and you moan out when his mouth leaves yours, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, biting your shoulder.

With the built up excitement, you don’t last long, and the warm knot forms in your core quickly, despite having no foreplay. “Steve,” you pant. “I--”

“I know,” he mumbles into your skin, his voice muffled. “Me too, baby.”

“Cu-cum with me, Steve,” you encourage him, moaning.

You feel his cock twitch deep inside you as his thrusts get sloppy and he starts counting down from three. Just after he says one, you feel his hot seed coat your inside walls as they contract around him, sending you into a pure euphoric state, both of you milking each other of your orgasms. Steve thrusts a few more times, riding out your highs before stopping inside you, staying buried in your warmth for a moment while he lay on top of you, his crushing weight comforting.

He places lazy kisses all over your chest as he pulls out, you both whimpering at the loss of feeling complete. He falls to your side as you both catch your breath. Once your breathing returns to normal, you get up and go to the bathroom to clean yourself up. When you come back, Steve lays in the center of the bed with his arms held out in waiting. You climb into his chest, laying your head down and listening to his still erratic heartbeat.

“We’re spending the rest of the day like this, and you can’t convince me otherwise,” he says, pressing his lips into your hair.

You kiss his chest with a feather light touch of your lips as you look up at him. “You’re going to clean your office sooner or later, old man,” you smirk.

Before you could register what was happening, he had his hand on your throat and had flipped you both over so he was back on top of you.

“’Old man’?” he questions. “Could an old man make you feel as good as I do, sweetheart?” he releases some pressure on your neck, but leaves his hand resting there as he kisses you hungrily.

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans smut #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel smut

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thewebcomicsreview · 4 years ago

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Homestuck 2 has updated! Christmas is ruined!

Previously, on Homestuck 2: Literally nothing happened, and a non-trivial portion of the patreon supporters gave up and quit. Can this update pull a Christmas miracle and right the sinking ship of Homestuck 2? Probably not, but let’s find out!

youtube

We’re back in Candyland, having completely skipped over Karkat and John talking about Dave’s apparent death, because this comic is only interested in long conversations when they’re boring and not about anything at all. That’s alright, I got the gist of it.

When Karkat is finally gone, John still doesn’t move. It isn’t as though he has nowhere else to go, since there are quite a few places he might attempt to make himself useful, for better or for worse.

So, it appears to be morning now, meaning that John’s son has been missing in a war zone for almost 24 hours and I guess John literally forgot Harry existed?

Prediction: This conversation is going to end in some variant of “Where is our son?” “Oh shit!”

ROXY: hey john can u do me a quick solid

ROXY: actly idk how quick itll be but its definitely solid

ROXY: harry anderson says i just missed u being here but could u skip back on over?

What.

So, I went back and checked, and apparently nowhere is it explicitly said that Harry Anderson was also looking for the Vriskas, so I guess he....stayed home? Which makes sense, I suppose, but maybe a “Stay here I’ll go look for them” would’ve helped. I wasn’t the only one who thought Harry was out looking for Vriska too.

ROXY: sup

ROXY: follow me

ROXY: well were just going to my room so i guess technically u know the way

JOHN: haha ok.

John follows, trying to shake the ominous feeling he got from what she’d just said. He’d been in and out of this house a lot in the past few days. Why should this be any different?

Is Roxy....horny? Is the solid she’s looking for John’s dick? I mean, that’d make her saying Harry wasn’t available kind of weird, but I think this framing is a fake-out.

...

What the fuck is that lamp, Jesus Christ it’s awful. Just a cat’s asshole, facing the door.

ROXY: r u kiddin me rn egbert

JOHN: i’m not? unless you were, in which case yeah lets say i was also kidding.

JOHN: oh my god, i’m sorry, i don’t know why this making me freak out.

ROXY: i remember our past boot knockin with fondness but that is a situation im not interested in revisiting

Oh hey, it was a fakeout. Good job, Homestuck 2. You successfully implied something just through the art. Art which, by the way, looks a lot better than the last chapter. There are backgrounds and everything. I wonder if Chapter 15 was rushed out due to Hiveswap and that’s why it was so weak?

He’s almost embarrassed by how relieved he feels. So what if his ex wife wanted to hook up? Shouldn’t that be a situation he could navigate? Don’t people like to find solace in human physical connection during dire times? Why did the idea of it make his mind white out in panic more than, say, any number of the traumas he just experienced?

I’m not the biggest fan of the way the narration is going JOHN IS AFRAID OF SEX WITH ROXY LIKE HE’S A TEENAGE VIRGIN AGAIN (LIKE IN HS1!) AND IT DOESN’T REALLY MAKE SENSE PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IT’LL BE IMPORTANT LATER, but okay, noted.

ROXY: u said ur house is gone??

JOHN: yep.

JOHN: completely.

ROXY: jeez

Heh. I like Roxy, still.

JOHN: so i just sat there, watching, trying to figure out why watching my house burn down felt like i was being released from prison.

If this comic actually uses the phrase “home” and “stuck” in the same sentence I’m turning this blog around and we’ll go right back to Winnipeg.

ROXY: aight then no wind bending just use your mangrit

Roxy flexes, the corner of her mouth pulled up into a familiar grin. John feels his guts, so recently calmed, twist up into knots again. Her eyebrows shoot up and the smile loosens. He must have shown something on his face.

ROXY: ok or just like push when i push

ROXY: we both got sick muscles

ROXY: no other adjectives necessary

I feel unqualified to talk about how hard Roxy is pushing the June Egbert thing.

....Is that the fucking portal from Hiveswap under a tarp? Also hi Candy Callie, appearing in HS2 for the first time. One of the Calliope’s is nonbinary, I think, but I honestly can’t remember and I think it’s Meat Calliope?

JOHN: do i get to know what that big thing under the sheet is?

ROXY: hmmmmmm no

JOHN: oh ok.

JOHN: are you sure? i mean, it seems like a pretty prominent feature of the room.

JOHN: space.

JOHN: wherever we are.

ROXY: and a totally mysterious n COMPLETELY inconspicuous feature it will have to remain for now

ROXY: we r kinda in a hurry here fyi

ROXY: and by that i mean

ROXY: we are in precisely the amount of hurry that means im excused from having to a that specific q rn

JOHN: right, sorry.

JOHN: i will pay no attention to the object behind the curtain.

ROXY: u catch on fast egbert

Oh thing HS2 has not been great at is that it has a lot of plot mysteries that are supposed to keep us enticed but they don’t really get implanted into the audience’s head (Remember Vrissy mysteriously collapsing that one time? Probably not, she did it off screen and the boys kind of laughed it off). This one’s hard to miss.

JOHN: so... this is all downstairs?

JOHN: it seems like you had a lot of work done.

ROXY: well no not x actly

ROXY: were in the old meteor

It’s kind of weird how this meteor keeps popping up like this.

CALLIOPE: besides, hUman divorces are even more fascinating than i had ever imagined, and being able to witness yoUrs in motion was an honoUr.

This is an unexpected but not unwelcome direction for Callie to have gone.

CALLIOPE: ah right, right. yoU're probably a little cUrioUs as to where the dickens we are.

CALLIOPE: how much do yoU know aboUt black holes?

Oh, wow, we’re going right there, then. This does seem like a bit of a reaction to complaints HS2 wasn’t shmoovin’ enough, but maybe I’m reading too much into it.

CALLIOPE: no, i mean, what if oUr whole WORLD was inside a black hole.

JOHN: ok.

A’ight, that got a laugh out of me

JOHN: ugh, i fucking KNEW it!

JOHN: i'm so sorry.

JOHN: i'm so sorry that i put the earth inside a black hole everyone. ):

I like this conversation a lot.

ROXY: iirc at least part of y u got so weepy was the fact that u couldnt believe a version of earth existed where ppl got 2 watch more mcconaughey films than you

JOHN: listen.

JOHN: i simply don't think you all appreciated the gift you were given.

Quite a bit, in fact.

ROXY: ur not gonna enter a weird time vortex and change the trajectory of a little girls life with the power of love

JOHN: aw.

Roxy and John have a good dynamic.

CALLIOPE: bUt Upon her departUre, the rift closed for good. as far as i can see, there's simply no way for Us to commUnicate with the world oUtside the black hole.

CALLIOPE: i woUld certainly be very sUrprised to find oUt that anyone had managed sUch a thing!

JOHN: ...right.

John’s phone has very good coverage, since he was able to talk to Terezi in the epilogues, as we’re being subtly reminded of here with that ... before the “right”. I wonder if it still works after alt-Calliope left.

CALLIOPE: oUr exclUsion from the overarching coUrse of events which governs all reality means that oUr existence here is liable to dramatic and violent Upheaval.

CALLIOPE: to pUt it another way, becaUse nothing in here "matters", we are likely to be sUbjected to things which are a bit bats in the belfry, for no reason other than it's totally insignificant to the wider canon of reality.

CALLIOPE: and mUch thoUgh i am personally titillated by some of the conseqUences of this predicament, it is a degrading way for Us to live. u_u

Okay, so we are now being explicitly told that living in the black hole is fucking with the characters and is part of the reason they make such baffling decisions, like Rose not telling Kanaya about Yiffy, or naming her daughter “Yiffy” in the first place.

CALLIOPE: we need yoU to free vriska from the clUtches of oUr misgUided friend jane, and bring her here, to the singUlarity.

ROXY: weve been calling it the plot point

CALLIOPE: yes, the plot point is a key part of oUr plan

CALLIOPE: as far as we have been able to sUrmise, the only remaining method for escaping oUr grim confinement depends on leveraging the UniqUe properties of this location to create an event of sUch catalcysmic proportions that it simply cannot be contained within the black hole any more.

CALLIOPE: something SO dramatic, so hyper-relevant, that it becomes ontologically impossible for anyone to ignore it.

CALLIOPE: for that, we need an individUal of sUfficient narrative cloUt, so to speak.

CALLIOPE: and to liberate her, who better than the embodiment of the aspect of freedom itself?

So, the plan is literally for Vriska to be such a Huge 8itch that the black hole itself gets sick of her and yeets Earth C out of its own event horizon to freedom.

This is actually a great plan.

And that’s Hamsteak. This definitely feels like a bit of a reaction to complaints about HS2, but hey, I dig it, I guess? Definite improvement over the last chapter.

#homestuck #homestuck 2 liveblog

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tommysparker · 4 years ago

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24 and Counting

Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

A/N: Normally I try to keep my fics gender neutral but for smut like this I will be writing the reader as female, mainly because it’s just easier. If you want a male!reader smut feel free to request it. That being said, i am still a virgin and not very experienced so if this is bad, especially with how rushed the ending is, I’m sorry. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! :)

Warnings: smut, oral (m) receiving, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kiddos), hints of/implied sub!tom but not really, couple no-no words

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You stared at your reflection in the mirror, confidence radiating as the sunlight trickled in through the cracks in the curtain.

Today was Tom’s birthday, and you wanted to do something special. Your fellow roommates had already planned out a party with his family and a few close friends. Thankfully the whole Covid situation was easing up and you could allow a couple people over without raising the curve too much.

The party wasn’t till later into the day, however, so you decided to prepare your own gift for him, one you knew he would definitely cherish.

Tom groaned lightly as he stirred awake, covering his eyes to avoid the light pulling him out of his sleep. He reached across the bed lazily, trying to pull you closer but froze when he only felt the bed sheets. “Y/n..?” He called out huskily.

When the groggy voice reached your ears, you took one last glance at the mirror before smirking. It’s showtime. You strode to the foot of the bed, crawling on to the mattress slowly.

Tom felt the bed dip and opened his eyes hesitantly, only to be met with the sight of your nude body and a little ribbon bow-tie in your hair. His body felt like it just got splashed with cold water with how awake he suddenly felt. Despite that, his brain was still lagging a bit. “What- I mean...huh?” He stumbled, eyes wandering widely as he took in your naked figure.

“Happy birthday, my love,” You said sultry, hands rubbing the inside of his thighs as you lay between his legs. Lucky for you, it wasn’t uncommon for Tom to sleep naked, especially after the little pre-birthday celebration you and the boys had last night. You watched him, eyes full of adoration but smile dripping with mischief.

Oh yeah, birthday. Right. That explains it. Tom thought to himself. He remembered how he woke you up on your birthday, only fair that you return the favour...or get revenge. He really hoped it was the former.

“Y’know...I was planning on you waking up with your cock already down my throat,” You shrugged, hand inching closer and closer to his growing hard-on, “But you just looked so pretty I figured I’d let you sleep in a bit longer and let you wake up on your own time.”

The birthday boy breathed heavily as he felt the bits of pressure against the head of his dick. He reached down to tangle his fingers in your hair, silently begging for more. “How kind of you, darling.”

Your smile widened, pressing a feather-light kiss to the side of his cock and ghosting your lips up towards the tip. “So, 24 huh? Getting to be such a big boy now, Tommy. Suppose I should give you your present now?”

Tom nodded eagerly, hips bucking as your hand came in contact with this now-throbbing member. If there was one thing that drove him to the brink of insanity, it was those god-damn barely-there touches. Knowing this, you usually took full advantage of it.

Dramatically sticking your tongue out, you flicked the edge of it against his head, emitting a small groan-mixed-whine from the boy in front of you. “Now, baby boy. Here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m going to give you your special birthday licks, and you aren’t gonna cum until I’m finished. Understood?”

Tom whined pitfully, but nodded nonetheless. You loved to tease him, and god have mercy that you wouldn’t prolong whatever you had planned.

“Oh, and you also have to count each one. If you skip a number or mess up, that’s all you’re getting for this morning.”

Well, fuck.

And so it began. Your hand cupping his balls as your mouth descended onto his cock. He was practically leaking already, and it took almost all of your will-power not to lick up every bead of pre-cum that dribbled down his shaft. You were planning on making this game last.

The thing was, there would have been no issue until you told him he had to count. That was the cruelest thing you could do to a man, especially on his birthday. Tom is so responsive, his mind goes practically blank and is flooded with euphoria, so forcing him to actually use his brain instead of being able to lay back and fall into the warmth of pleasure was utter torture to him.

“O-one..” You heard him breathe out as you finally gave in and licked a strip up along the underside, following a small bit of pre-cum and revenge has never tasted so sweet.

This continued on for what felt like hours to Tom, your mouth moving up and down on his cock, hand pumping in time and on occasion he would feel your tongue against his burning skin, and each time he nearly forgets to count the next number down. What’s next? Five? 15? He couldn’t tell anymore. All he could focus on was how fucking good your throat felt around him.

You could tell he was about to lose it, the way his words jumbled together, abs twitching and the grip on your hair was a dead give away. Normally, you would’ve pushed his hand away but considering it was his birthday you let it slide. You found yourself finding it harder and harder to ignore the aching between your legs as you pleasured your lover.

“Oh fuck...uh s-seventeen? No- eighteen? Shit...love please m’ gonna- m’ gonna cum- oh!” He cried out when you gave a rather harsh suck on his tip. He looked down at you with hooded eyes, back arching off the bed and he swore he saw stars.

You eyed him closely while you licked your way down his cock, mouthing at his balls while your hand kept him stimulated. The sight of him falling apart at your touch would never get old.

“L-Love, pleasepleaseplease, god- fuck, can I cum? Please, l-let me cum,” He begged desperately. He was at your complete mercy. “It’s my birthday, please.”

You hummed thoughtfully, weighing the options in your head as you continued to tease your boyfriend. On one hand, you wanted him to pay for the relentless teasing he put you through on your birthday, but on the other you wanted more than anything to jump on his cock and ride him into oblivion. You decided on a third option, both.

Tom’s brain barely registered how many times he felt your tongue hit his dick. The movement was swift, and he was so far gone in the cloud of lust he barely remembered the consequences of forgetting to keep track. “U-uh….n-nineteentwentytwenty-onetwenty-twotwenty-three,” He was so close. He could practically taste the sweet relief. “Oh god darling please just one more...one more baby please.”

“You gonna cum baby boy? You wanna feel my tongue on your cock?”

“Yes yesyesplease,” He continued pleading. Tears pricked at the edge of his eyes from how hard he was holding back his orgasm. You hummed, the vibrations triggering his nerves in all the right ways and he was so close.

It amazed him how his body reacted to your touch. You played him like an instrument, pushing all the right spots to get him to moan out. You could read him like a picture book, and he wondered how someone so amazing as you could stand to be with someone like him. You were there for him through and through, and he adored you for it.

But in moments like these, where he was right on the edge, he couldn’t hate you more. Of course, he doesn’t actually hate you, it was just the sexual frustration that was starting to take a toll. He was an impatient man, after all.

You noticed right as you pulled away, rubbing his thighs while he squirmed and whimpered. You smirked, gripping his cock and bringing it up to your lips. Locking eyes with him, brown and desperate meeting dark with lust and mischievous, you stuck your tongue out and licked a final, long stripe up from his balls to his tip, swirling around his head before pulling away.

Tom moaned, bucking up into the air. “Fuck...make me cum, darling come on please i-it’s starting to hurt.” That wasn’t a total lie, the builded pressure in his balls was starting to ache, but it was a good kind of ache, not that he would ever admit it.

“You were so good, handsome. I think it’s time for the real gift,” you smiled as you straddled his waist, pumping his cock while you lined it up at your pussy. “Can you feel how wet I am for you?”

He definitely could, you were practically dripping and all he wanted to do in that moment was bury his dick in your pussy as deep as he could. Turns out, you were gonna do that for him.

You slowly sank down, giving yourself a moment to adjust. In that time slot, Tom lost all self-control he had and grabbed your face, smashing your lips onto his. A noise of surprise escaped your throat before reciprocating.

Tom held your waist while you started moving on his cock, moaning as he felt your walls tighten around him. “Fuck, Y/n m’ not gonna last…”

You hummed in response, kissing his neck and increasing the intensity of your actions. “Give it to me, birthday boy.”

With that, Tom flipped you over and started pounding into you, chasing his release. He buries his face in your neck, leaving chaste kisses and moaning freely against your skin. He felt your nails dig into his shoulders, hot scratches trailing down his back as he thrusted harder.

You were a moaning mess beneath him, a small cry passing your lips every time he hit that spot. It didn’t take long for him to release a final moan before cumming, triggering your own orgasm.

Tom pulled out carefully once you both finished, dropping onto the bed and panting heavily. “Best. Present. Ever.” He grinned at the ceiling, turning his head to look at you.

You were already gazing at him, taking in his post-sex look and dear god it was gorgeous. “Happy birthday, Tommy.” You smiled, cupping his cheek with one hand and pulling him in for a light kiss before getting up.

“Hey where are you going?”

“To shower. You coming?”

You were going to be the death of him, and he loved you for it.

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Happy Birthday Tom Holland!!

All: @greenorangevioletgrass @allegra-writes @soraitmnt @worldoftom @farfromparker @angel-spidey @parkerpeter24 @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @the-panwitch @rebekkah4766 @hollandsamor @spideygirl2003 @theactualprincessofeverything

Tom Holland: @rubberducky-jrr @quaksonhehe

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfic #sub!tom #sub!tom holland #kind of but not rlly #happy birthday tom holland #rae writes sometimes

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kylorengarbagedump · 4 years ago

Text

Little Bird: Chapter 36 (NSFW)

Read one AO3. Part 35 here. Part 37 here.

Summary: Your bullet wound is tended to. Somehow, Gilead makes things like this even more awkward than normal.

Words: 6600

Warnings: woundplay, bloodplay

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Hiiii! I am so glad to hear people enjoy my self-indulgence, so, here, have some more! Haha. Can't help myself, have loved this shit since I was young. Please forgive me. As usual, I am so grateful for y'all. You truly brighten my day--I feel so lucky to have what I have. I love y'all very much. I try to respond to as many comments as possible. Thank you thank you. TwT <3

You weren’t surprised that Johana was furious when she opened the door to find you, yet again in the arms of your Commander, the both of you drenched with rain and iridescent with blood.

What did surprise you was how quickly this fury crumbled into a trembling, panicked concern.

Her attention darted between your wound and his face, and she moved toward you, half-reaching toward your arm, then thinking better of it. “What--what happened?” She glared at her husband. “What are you doing here? Take her to a hospital!”

Kylo pushed past her, wet boots squeaking on the hardwood, and Johana growled, shutting the door and trailing behind him. His grip was tight, fingers pinching your flesh.

“I’m going to call the ambulance,” she said. “I’m not letting a Handmaid bleed out in our--”

He whirled on her, and you rocked with him, stomach churning with the sudden movement. “Pryde is staging a coup,” he replied. “Until I discover the reach of his influence, there is no safer place than this home.” He paused. “For her. And you.”

Silence lingered for a moment, and Johana’s expression sharpened, lips parting. Her eyes followed the grain of the wall, slow air leaking in her lungs. She glanced at the floor, horror falling like a curtain over her face.

“Commander,” she said, “I…” She swallowed with a frown. “Commander Pryde stopped by the house this morning. He wanted to speak with you. I…” She stepped toward him, chin quivering. “I told him you’d left and hadn’t informed me where you were going, I shouldn't have said anything, I’m sorry--”

“Enough.” Kylo tensed, a wall of muscle against your frame. “It’s irrelevant now. Once she is stable, I’ll be departing with the Knights.” He adjusted you in his hold. “There’s a bullet in her arm.”

Johana gazed at him, hands wringing together, and sighed. Sucking in a long breath, she stepped forward and studied your wound. Your face flushed in embarrassment, expecting admonishment, or even cruelty from her, but it was as if she’d transformed, taken on another skin. She was calculating, cataloging something as she stared, leaning on her toes, humming in thought. There was no evidence of the woman you feared in the person before you--she’d been replaced by a confident, objective analyst.

“Well, there’s no arterial damage,” she said, “she would’ve bled out already. The tourniquet isn’t necessary.” She eased closer, mouth screwing in thought. “Might’ve clipped the humerus, too hard to tell.” Eyes narrowing, she pressed her thumb to the perimeter of the wound, and you seethed--Kylo’s fingers bit into you. “It’s not infected yet. I can clean it. Stitch it. Even if we’re going to keep her out of the hospital, she’ll still need antibiotics. And to rest for at least two weeks.”

“I’ll arrange for it,” he said. “I’ll return when this is resolved. You will be responsible for her.” He shifted close, voice low. “This is an order as your husband. Do you understand?”

Johana nodded, glancing at between the both of you and then to her feet, face pink. “Yes, Commander, I understand.”

“Prepare your supplies.” He turned and strode down the hall.

Kylo carried you through the home into his bedroom, shutting the door and locking it. He eased you to the floor and popped the tourniquet from your arm--you winced at the release of pressure, the new pulse of pain through your nerves. In silence, he crossed to the bathroom, and you heard the squeal of an opening pipe, the gush of a spigot, and blushed. He was running a bath for you.

When he returned, he removed your coat--his coat, technically--and tossed it to the ground, leading you toward the bed with a gentle hand while he gathered the hem of your nightgown and drew it over your frame. It stuck to you like plastic wrapping, leaving damp stains on your skin--and you plopped on the mattress as he guided it over your ribs. He raised your uninjured limb and lifted the rest of the gown over your head, your arm, and then down over your wound. You whimpered as the fabric peeled from your aching flesh, leaving you in your soaked undergarments.

Focused, he took your legs, throwing your socks and shoes to the floor, before looking to your bra, reaching behind you and unhooking it. You were speechless, teeth chattering, pain biting like skeleton claws as you watched your Commander--the man who had just single-handedly slaughtered dozens of soldiers--tend to you like you were the most precious, most delicate creature he’d ever had under his hands. His fingers were firm, soothing you with even the slightest touch, and he met your gaze, sliding his thumbs toward your underwear, warm brandy gleaming in his eyes.

Still trembling, you nodded, and he wedged them free, fabric bunching as it rolled down your thighs, and added them to the sopping pile of clothing on the hardwood. Having finished that, he released you and began to strip himself, starting with his boots and coat, still without words as the mountain of garments grew larger. He was stoic, never once sneaking a glimpse of your body until he was nude, too.

Though you’d cum for him four times already, and though your cunt twinged from the recent stretch of his dick, it was impossible not to revere him, like this, skin smoldering in dim light. Kylo Ren’s broad, crushing power and his beauty were seemingly disparate--yet the clean strength of his body only served to accentuate the elegant curve of his nose, the petal-pink of his lips, the soft, wet waves of his hair. He returned the stare, gaze dancing over your figure, but only in quiet, worried praise, as if you were a damaged triumph of art that was his to repair.

Blinking, he broke away, and walked to check your bath. Inside, you heard the splash of water, a knob adjustment, and he appeared again, silent as he scooped you to his chest. The shivering hadn’t stopped, and now that you could see it, you noticed that the bleeding hadn’t fully stopped, either. It wasn’t a river, more of a weep, tiny trickles pushed from your pulsating flesh as it rippled with every beat of your heart. You couldn’t see the bullet in the red mess of meat--and as you crossed the threshold, you wondered how far down it had gone.

Kylo’s bathroom was wall-to-wall white subway tile, extending to the walk-in shower at the far end, the floor a pattern of black and white ceramic diamonds. The towels, too--whether hung or stowed or folded--were white and black, every accessory a silvered pewter. A ceiling light exposed the steel-grey skies outside, the room illuminated by two incandescent glass sconces above the mirror. The air was hot and thick--water half-filled a large clawfoot tub, and your Commander suspended you above it, lowering you into the bath like you’d splinter from shock.

Relief was immediate, and you sighed, an imitation of a corpse in his arms. Heat engulfed you, sucking the tension from your skin, the steady stream of the spigot drowning your anxious mind. He released you, let you float, and your head rolled along the tub, a soft, satisfied hum escaping your chest. Steam wafted into your sight, and you breathed it in, hoping to fill your lungs with its comfort while Kylo pulled up a wooden stool. He removed the towel folded on top of it and sat, adjusting until he was at your side.

Your cheeks burned as you watched him gather the towel in his hand and pass it under the spigot, mesmerized by the taut muscles in his arms, his back. It was the third time in 24 hours you’d seen him without clothing, and still you salivated for it, each time an entirely new experience to your mind. Ignorant of your admiration, Kylo wrung the towel of excess water and lathered it with soap before gazing at you, face blank--your lip wibbled, your heart skipped. If it weren’t for the gunshot wound in your arm, you’d try to prod yourself awake.

His free hand cupped the back of your neck, eased you up, while the other started at your shoulders, drawing slow, soapy circles down your mottled neck and clavicle, moving to your uninjured arm, cleansing away the cold film left by the rain. He shifted then, to your chest, sitting you straighter, and washed the mud and splattered soil from your breasts and abdomen, caressing you with the cloth, pushing the fear from your flesh. You trembled in the tenderness of his touch, throat tight with emotion you were too terrified to name.

Noticing this, Kylo shushed you, placing his lips to your forehead, murmuring something at your hairline that you couldn’t hear. Prickles of affection blazed through your nerves, your blood racing, and he sat back and lifted one of your legs from the tub, scrubbing it clean, passing the towel over the ticklish soles of your feet. You hid a giggle, wriggling from the contact, and he squeezed your ankle, holding you still until the muck was gone. One leg completed, he switched to another, untarnished section, and repeated the action with the other leg, never once breaking his attention from his task.

With both spotless, he switched sections again, and leaned you forward, rubbing soap into your back, strong thumbs pressing along your shoulder blades as he passed them, massaging down the line of your spine. You groaned, shuddering, goosebumps alight in the wake of his touch. He shushed you again, and washed you over with water, easing you back to the tub before spilling the soap clear from the rest of your body. The warmth flooded you, eyes fluttering in delight before settling on him.

His brow furrowed, and he lifted your wounded arm, coasting across it with a new patch of cloth, skimming the sensitive skin, brushing away the sludge and caked blood, revealing fresh, pink flesh. Your free limbs tweaked, and you grimaced in pain, but kept otherwise still, choosing to fixate on his pursing lips, how meticulous he’d become in his movements. Baffling, how this one man was both the blunt-end of a bludgeon and the precise feather fountain-pen--as deft with his hands as he was deadly. The last of the grime was wiped free, Kylo scrutinized his work, folded the towel over, and wet a clean swatch.

He then cradled your head, weaving through your hair, focus following his fingers while he wiped your storm-smattered face, swiping at your lips, under your lids, the rust smeared on your chin. As he dabbed your nose, he glimpsed you, and your lungs stalled in memory of the first time he’d done this--the first time he’d ever made you feel human, the first time he’d ever made you feel cherished. You gazed at him, your chest thumping with an appreciation so swollen you were afraid it would split through your sternum at a pinprick’s pressure. Kylo blinked, averted his eyes, and with a soft pat of your cheek, he sat back, appraising, his own face still sullied with crusted crimson.

Words wouldn’t find you. You grabbed for the towel instead, taking it from him and sitting straight. Swallowing your nerves, you preened the loose strands of hair from his face and swept the cloth over his forehead, down his nose--he froze under your touch, his irises clouded with confusion. Hands quaking, you continued, smoothing over his cheekbones, along the line of his jaw, scraping away the remnants of battle. His mouth twitched, his throat knocked, and when you finished, you draped the towel over the tub’s edge.

Finally meeting his stare, you exhaled, stroked his face with your thumb, tracing the edge of his scar. It was lithe, almost lovely in its length, cresting down his neck and over his collarbone, a rose-gold crack on his alabaster skin. Yet what made it beautiful was its origin, its legacy--the knowledge that he’d earned it in the act of saving you.

His eyes were liquid amber, gilded rims glimmering with a feeling you could only identify as gratitude, a reflection of the recognition you felt in your soul. It was an acknowledgement that in this mire of madness, you were thankful for each other, thankful that through the suffocating strangle of Gilead’s air, you’d discovered breath in the other’s embrace. He glanced at your mouth, and you wet it--something distant and familiar lingered on your tongue. Before you could give it life, Kylo tugged you by the neck and against his lips.

The kiss was tentative, exploratory, his mouth skipping over yours, testing your need, ghosting tingles at your nerves. You whimpered into him, clutching the back of his head, skating nails over his scalp as you returned his ardor, your tongue out slipping to taste him--he tilted his head, capturing you, his own tongue rolling slowly over yours. A quiet groan escaped him, and he pulled you closer, holding your head in both of his enormous hands, one stroking through your hair, the other keeping you still as his mouth grazed you. Your thighs braced together, forcing friction as fire dripped like oil between your legs.

Kylo guided you back to the tub, chasing you, never increasing his insistence, taking time to brand you in dedication, rather than desire. Humming with pleasure, his tongue slid past your teeth, and the hand in your hair glided down your neck, over your shoulder, gripping it, as if to prove you were alive. You shivered, worked your lips over his like he was to be savored, flesh plumping from the pressure--underneath the running water, the only noises were your and his hidden breath, and the slick sound of your meeting mouths. Passion crept through you now, signaling a need that, despite having been more than sated this morning, was happy to awaken from its slumber.

You shifted closer, growing needy--the sudden movement speared your arm with agony, and you yelped, breaking the kiss. Kylo nuzzled you with his forehead.

“Do you want relief?” His hand traveled from your shoulder, inching down your chest. “From the pain.”

Tremored, eager air left your lungs. “Yes.” You nodded. “Please.”

He pressed his lips to yours as his hand fell to your breast, groping it absently, thumb petting your pebbling nipple. You squirmed, releasing a moan, and he silenced you with his mouth, kneading your tit, making your stomach tighten with hunger. Giving a nip to your bottom lip, he kissed across your cheek, huffing into your ear while his hand dipped into the water and drifted over the rolls of your belly.

“Be a good girl for me.” Long fingers crawled over your mound, and you nodded, legs parting in welcome. “There we go...”

Two digits trailed up and down your outer folds, teasing them, and you gasped, throwing your good arm around his neck--his breath was slow and quiet at your ear, the baritone resonance of his voice rumbling through you. One finger drew up your slit, glancing over your clit, and you squeaked, core clamoring for more.

“That’s it.” His mouth moved to your cheekbone, following your jaw. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” He licked up your pulse. “You’re gorgeous.”

Gooseflesh erupted over your skin, vision fuzzing with joy. “Even… even like this?” You nodded toward your wound.

“Mm.” Kylo kissed your throat, prying open your folds, probing your layers. “Especially like this.”

His thumb grazed your clit, and you whined, jerking him closer--he growled and taunted your entrance, swirling a single digit in its slick, daring to press in only half a centimeter. Your hips shifted, cunt craving more, but he refused to yield, thumb passing your nub with long, torturous strokes.

“I know men who’ve broken over a bullet.” He wiggled in another half-centimeter, and you clenched. “But you haven’t shed a tear.” More kisses to your throat, suckling at your heartbeat. “My brave little bird."

Heat rushed you in waves--at this rate, he'd have you cumming without even having to go inside of you. "Why should I be afraid?" you whispered. "I have you."

His breath hitched, and he plunged in, curling inside of you--a sigh left you as you throbbed around him, even knowing one finger wouldn't be enough. You adjusted your weight on his neck, bringing him closer, letting your injured arm dangle out of the tub.

"That's right. And you’re being so good for me," he murmured. "Getting so wet. Always ready for me to make you cum..."

Kylo slipped out, then pushed back in, then out, and in again, relishing in the tight ridges of your cunt as he stretched you open. You bucked your hips, trying to fuck him in rhythm, water sloshing in the bath--but he dodged you, forcing you to meet his pace, swiping back and forth over your clit in little bolts of bliss while he exhaled in excitement.

"Relax." His mouth moved from your neck to your shoulder, teeth dragging new welts over your clavicle. "I thought you were going to be my good girl."

You swallowed and stilled. It was hard to control yourself when the rush of pleasure was numbing everything else. "I-I will. I'm sorry."

"Better." Kylo caught your lips in a brief kiss, rewarding you with a second finger, crooking them both inside of you--you cried out, spasming in delight. "Fuck. How does a cunt this little take me so well, hm?" Another kiss, lingering. "Just thinking about how tight you are makes my cock hard." He smirked against your mouth. "You know I think about it whenever I wake up. And before I go to sleep."

You whinged, lava boiling in your blood--you wanted to melt into the water, liquefy in his hands. "Oh..."

"That's right," he said. "I make myself cum every morning thinking about fucking you. And it's never enough." He was panting, kissing back down your neck, to your chest again. "I could fuck this pussy every night for the rest of my life and it wouldn't be enough…"

“Kylo…”

Your brain swarmed with that distant feeling again, dizzying you, robbing you of language, weakening your joints. You clung to him, a raft in the sea of your lust, choking back your moans as his palm rocked against you, thumb circling your clit, fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt--you let your lids close, let pleasure encompass you, let yourself submerge to his will, trusting him to give you exactly what you needed. His lips scorched your shoulder, singeing a path toward your wound, but you were too rapt to notice, too elated to care.

When he kissed it, something snapped--perhaps it was the plush of his mouth on the tender tissue, perhaps it was the ecstasy already seizing your sanity, or perhaps it was the delicious slice of pain twisting through it all. Whatever it was, you sobbed, back arching, pussy clamping down on his hand like it would sever him clean, head thrown back in a plea. Kylo stopped, purring with satisfaction, lifting his pretty, stained scarlet lips from your arm. You met his eyes, shaking, too embarrassed to say a word.

Thankfully, he appeared too engrossed to further humiliate you, kissing the top of your shoulder before falling to your wound again--he rolled his fingers inside of you, rubbing the bundle of nerves in tight, quick strokes, and let his mouth sketch the edge of your injured flesh. You winced, writhed, jaw dropping in an open, continuous pant, and he licked light lines around it, lapping the seeping blood; when you clenched again, he slipped his tongue into the hole.

Your sight went white, you collapsed in the bath, a mix of scream and squeal shredding your throat. The sensation was a knife, carving bliss into your skin, your cunt pulsing with greed as your Commander laved you from the inside. Everything blanked, your only reality consisting of the thumb caressing your stiffened clit, the fingers pumping into your throbbing pussy, the tongue digging absolute pure pleasure-pain into your veins. Your hands furled into fists, teeth cutting your lip while you fought to find yourself in the hurricane that had replaced your brain.

“Kylo,” you whimpered, as it was the only word you could remember, “Kylo, Kylo…”

“Good girl.” He moaned, lavishing hot, open kisses at the frayed flesh. “So good for me, so perfect--”

“Please.” Your lips buzzed, unsure what you were even asking for. “Please, I--”

Somehow knowing what you needed before you did, Kylo’s bloody mouth met yours, his thumb worming through your wound, and you shrieked into him--he swallowed every cry, painting iron along your tongue, kissing you in anxious fervor. Your orgasm bubbled with volcanic intensity, gravitation at your core, absorbing each spark of nerve and billowing to something so powerful that you were afraid you would shatter if it burst.

Kylo nudged his digit deeper, pain ricocheting to your cunt, while his other hand flicked your clit fast, stuffed a third thick finger into your pussy, coiling and delving and fucking you wide, and you suffocated in his kiss, winding your tongue around his, gasping, groaning, and he drove into your hole, filling everything inside--you ruptured, ecstasy exploding through you, escaping in euphoric shrieks into his throat, happily consumed by the voracity of his mouth. He led you through it, easing his thumb free, rubbing you through the aftershocks of your climax as you descended, crumpling limp in the water’s warmth, chasing his gentle, lazy lips.

By the time you’d regained control of your faculties, you’d realized he’d pulled out of you and turned off the spigot, leaving you to soak in a bath that had risen past your breasts. And he was still catching his breath--through your daze of disbelief, you saw him stroking his hard, needy cock, pounding it to his own release. Kylo sought your mouth again, but you shifted away, enthralled by the sight of your Commander, cheeks flush, jaw dropped, thrusting into his fist. He huffed with a half smirk, leaning back, allowing you to see the contractions of his stomach, the flexing in his chest.

“You like that?” He pushed the skin to the head, coaxing a drop of precum from the slit, smearing it over his shaft. “Is this making you feel good?”

Your mind was mush. All you could think to do was nod.

“Fuck…” Kylo’s pupils were blown, his chest heaving. “Then you can remember this when I’m gone. Think of me like this.” He rolled his palm around his length, tugging it faster. “Think of me fucking myself because of you.”

Saliva pooled from your cheeks, your eyes pinned to the muscular slabs of his legs, how they spread and framed his cock, long and thick and beautiful, how his hand wrapped around it with a soft shuffle, how his flesh bounced with the effort. You could see the peaking tide of unadulterated pleasure, his face obscene with it--his head dropped onto his shoulders, his thighs tensed, hand a blur over his dick.

“Fuck… fuck.” His voice was shredded with bliss. “You want to watch me cum, little girl?”

“Y-yes…”

His lids closed, he gasped. “Tell me to cum.”

You almost choked. “Christ. C-cum for me, Kylo--”

Kylo Ren snarled your name, gripping his cock as it twitched and pulsed between his legs, sticky cum shooting in spurts onto his sternum, roping over his abdomen. He groaned, jerking himself into sensitivity, sucking in a deep breath as his hand slowed, head falling forward, the tail of his climax dissipating. When he was finished, he exhaled, paused, and gathered some of his seed onto his fingers. Your throat thickened--and he held you in his stare, sucking them clean.

No words would come to you. Between the still-crackling cinders of your orgasm and the image of him eating his own cum, you’d temporarily lost your ability to speak. Kylo smirked--he kissed you a final time before tucking a lock of wet hair behind your ear and rising to his feet.

Your Commander walked to the sink and grabbed a towel, wiping away the remaining blood and cum and debris. In the valley of post-climactic rapture, watching him--this man, your savior and enslaver--you yearned for that moment in the cemetery, before you’d been shot. The moment when it seemed as if he’d considered you--a moment you felt him echo when he’d said every night for the rest of my life. You sank into the bath, that nagging, terrifying feeling welling within you again. You shoved it down, knowing that to name it while still wading in uncertainty would damn you to despair.

“Um. What you said earlier. Is that something you’d want?” you asked. “To… have me? Every night? For...” The rest of the words wouldn’t leave, stuck like impossible barbs on your tongue.

He said nothing, taking a swig of water from the sink and swishing it in his mouth before spitting it into the basin in a pink spray.

“I think we could do it.” You were being careful--but you were less afraid of his words than your own. “We could have that.”

Still silent, he took a fresh towel and rustled it through his hair, whipping excess water from the curls.

“I know you believe in destiny,” you said. “But what if you have two?” He stilled--you continued. “What if… I saw another path. Where you--where we were free?”

Kylo Ren glanced over his shoulder, considering you. There was not a single hint of emotion in his expression. Your chest tightened.

“It would make me happy,” you murmured. “What about you?”

His gaze fell, wandering the tile, the walls, until it led him to the mirror. He stared into himself, like a stranger to his own reflection, jaw steeling. Rain rattled the skylight, thunder crashing through the clouds, a rumbling of the past--he remained there for a moment, inspecting his face, searching for something, wallowing in recollection. His back crested, muscles hardened, and he tore away, eye twitching as he looked back to you.

“There are greater issues to rectify,” he said, and left the room.

Wilting, you slid deeper into the water, keeping your arm tossed over the edge. It wasn’t that you had expected him to drop it all and agree, like a hero from some romance--yes, darling, let’s steal away at midnight--but you had hoped for some concession, some inkling of hope that he wanted to sustain what was unsustainable. Yet, in the back of your mind, you both understood there was only one way he could do that. And it would involve abandoning everything he’d ever known.

The question you weren’t willing to answer was how you’d balance your willingness to wait with reality. Running was not an option, now--not as long as your Commander had both the will and the governmental power to find and keep you. No matter his compromises, the existence of Gilead meant his inherent rejection of your agency, his unwillingness to let you go, despite it being your only wish.

And every second wasted translated to years of lives hanging in turmoil. The next time you met with the Resistance, you knew you’d do whatever they asked to help them cripple Gilead. One way or the other, they would bring you your freedom. You just hoped that by the time they were ready, a time that could be days or weeks or years, he’d be coming with you.

Some might think you were asking too much--for him to relinquish his power, destroy as much as he could in the process, escape with you into anonymity--but the Kylo Ren you knew was capable of anything. You’d ask for all of it, or ultimately accept none.

Of course, you’d need to heal from this damn gunshot, first.

Kylo returned, dressed and dry, adjusting the cuffs on his coat. “Two Knights will remain in my absence. Johana will care for your wound and get you to rest.”

“Oh,” you said, starting to stand, “okay--”

“Don’t move.”

Confused, you stopped, splashing into the tub. Johana couldn’t see you naked, and especially not while you were covered in his hickeys and bite marks. “But--”

“A precaution,” he said. “To protect your temperature.”

“But...” You folded your free arm over your chest. Your options were paltry few, and inviting in a strange, possibly deceptive doctor, one without any personal investment in your well-being, seemed even less appealing. “Okay.”

“You will be safe.” He scanned your body in the bath. “Be good, little bird.”

A jumble of words waited on your tongue: Be safe, be careful, I’ll miss you, I…

Instead, you only nodded. “I will.”

He met your gaze a final time in silent regard, and turned to leave. You listened to the sound of his boots cross the floor, wondering how the water had made it into your eyes. Blinking, you wiped your cheeks. You weren’t sure how long you laid there after your Commander had left--only that when you heard the creak of the bedroom door, steam had fled the air, and your breathing had evened out.

When Johana entered the bathroom, she brought a tote with her, avoiding you entirely as she plopped it next to the sink and washed her hands. Finished that, she pushed her sleeves to her elbows and grabbed a pair of gloves from the bag, pulling them on before fishing through it again. Chewing her cheek, she procured a needle, a pair of tweezers and scissors, a few square packets, dental floss, a roll of gauze, two tiny white tubes, and a small plastic bottle of clear liquid. She laid them out on a towel, picked it up, turned to you--and nearly flung all of it across the room.

“Jesus Christ.” Her face contorted in a mix of disgust and dismay--she went to say something else, but shrugged it off, heading to the stool and sitting down.

You blushed, taking a quick inventory of your chest. Yes, it definitely looked like an animal had savaged your upper-torso--and, in a way, that’d been exactly what happened. Settling on silence, you stared at your feet. There were no words you could think to say that would ease the awkwardness of her acknowledging the evidence of her husband’s illegal affair.

Johana sighed, took one of the tubes, squeezed its contents onto a gloved finger and rubbed it over your wound. You squeaked in pain, watching as it worked into a lather before she took the bottle of liquid and squirted it over your skin (water, to your relief). Stone faced, she patted it down with gauze before grabbing the needle and one of the packets--an alcohol wipe, you now realized. You frowned.

“Wait,” you said. “Aren’t you going to… um. Remove the bullet.”

She snorted. “Not unless you’re interested in bleeding out in the bathtub.” Tearing the packet open, she plucked the wipe free. “Digging around could further traumatize the wound,” she said. “It’s safer to leave embedded projectiles where they are.”

“Oh.”

Her brow furrowed as she sanitized the needle. “Yes, oh.” Contrition flashed over her face. “Not that you had any reason to know that.”

Regret puddled in your heart--not for what you’d done, but that you’d both been placed in this hell at all. At least you’d had a distraction in the form of the Commander. Johana had been floundering alone for, maybe, the past three entire years. You knew she was miserable, knew that you’d seen a moment’s hesitation before she’d stolen the switchblade. Even if that object was long-gone, if you could soften her, even a little, maybe she’d hear you out. Maybe freedom was a possibility for all of you in the home--the Marthas included.

“I’m sorry,” you said, nodding toward your chest. “I wasn’t expecting--”

“Don’t really care.” She wound out a string of floss from its container. “The faster you get pregnant, the better.”

“Is that why you won’t report me? Or the Commander?” you asked. “You just want me to get pregnant?”

“Yes.” Narrowing her focus, she held up the needle in one hand and the floss in the other before glimpsing you. “And no.” She paused. “It’s not like you’re the worst Handmaid I’ve had.”

A reluctant grin pulled at your lips. “The dinner party?”

“Ha!” It wasn’t a true laugh--more like a squawk. “The only other person who has ever talked to Commander Hux like that is my husband.” Pride twinkled in her eye. “But seeing his reaction to you was even better.”

You chuckled. “Was he always such a bastard?”

“Oh, yes,” she replied. “Always.” Her mouth opened to speak, but she said nothing.

Silence descended over the bathroom; thunder rumbled under the shower of rain. Johana looked between the floss and your wound.

“Anyway, the Commander’s preoccupation with you won’t be a problem once you give birth.” She tossed it and unfurled a longer strand. “And I know you can’t help yourself anyway.”

“Ms. Johana, please.” You sighed. “Do you really care about him?” you asked. “I mean. Even after…” Invoking her dead husband’s name seemed tacky. So you didn’t.

She rolled her eyes. “What does it matter?”

You shrugged your good shoulder. “I just…” Quiet, you sought out her gaze. “You really loved him.”

“I did,” she said. “So what? He’s dead now.”

“How did you meet him?”

Johana didn’t respond, focused on threading the needle, taking one, two, three attempts before the floss passed through the eye. Blowing frustrated air through her nose, she wiped tweezers down before using it to pinch the needle. Turning to your arm, she went to poke you--and paused.

“Church.” Her voice was soft. “I met him in church.”

Using two fingers, she compressed the sides of the wound together--you flinched--and pierced the bottom, pulling the strand of floss through. It was a tiny nip, hardly comparable to the pain of the wound itself. You shook the discomfort away.

“What was he like? Ah--”

“Stop squirming.” Johana exhaled, looping the floss and making another stitch. “Very traditional,” she said. “Very organized.” A tiny smirk eked over her lips. “Very bossy.”

You raised a brow. “Oh?”

She fought the urge to smile. “Oh, he was funny about it,” she said. “He liked things to be a certain way. He was always teasing me for fussing until it was perfect.” For a moment, she looked content, sapphire glittering in her irises, face glowing as she slipped the needle through again. “He had high expectations. I could always meet them.”

“Oh.” Kylo Ren, you imagined, was a devastatingly unfair change of pace. “It must be hard. The Commander seems so different.”

Like fog, the facade of peace faded, revealing the vacant, tired bags beneath her eyes. “He is.” She jabbed you, perhaps a little harder than intended--you winced. “But...”

You frowned. “But?”

Johana’s hands froze, and she swallowed, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

She said nothing more, face drawn in focus as she made another stitch, and another. You watched, almost in awe of her nimble fingers; you knew for certain it’d been over three years since she would have last done this, and probably longer than that. If you hadn’t known her in the context of being your Commander’s Wife, you never would have guessed it.

“Being a nurse was probably tough.”

A short, tight laugh caught in her throat. “Dealing with bureaucratic red tape and doctors all day? Yeah. I don’t miss it.” Her tone softened, and she shrugged. “But I was good at it.”

“I can tell.”

“I’d hope so. I was top of my...” She sighed, rolling her eyes again. “Whatever.” With the tweezers, she wreathed the floss in on itself, made a knot, and tied it off. “I don’t have the luxury of surgical thread.” A snip as she cut the loose ends with the scissors. “This will pop if you’re not careful.”

You nodded. “I understand.”

Exhaling, she took the second white tube and collected a clear gel from its tip, spackling it over your sutures like paste. Satisfied, she then grabbed the gauze, binding your arm in several rotations before cinching it tight. For a moment, she stared at it, and then peeled off her gloves and rolled up the towel with all of her supplies. She brought it to her tote and stuffed it inside before marching out of the room, leaving the bag on the sink.

Beyond the door, you heard her shuffling in the bedroom, and you let loose a long, disappointed sigh. She’d been a tougher nut to crack than you anticipated. It wasn’t as if you were queen of mind games, but you’d at least expected her to be intrigued by the chance to open up to anybody other than her pillow. But perhaps you couldn’t blame her for not trusting you when you kept showing up to her home with increasingly bizarre injuries.

Johana entered the bathroom again, a heavy, black robe in her arms. “I don’t have one that will fit you.” She flopped it open, held it out. “He’s never worn it, anyway.”

You stared. “Oh.”

“Don’t just oh,” she said. “Come on.”

With a wobble, you eased yourself to your feet, steadying with the wall as you stepped out of the tub and into the robe, allowing her to bundle you in it. Johana guided you with a hand on your back to Kylo Ren’s bed and observed while you climbed on.

Offering a restrained grin, you said, “I know you don’t like me. And that I keep getting hurt. But thank you.”

“It was an order. I follow them.” Her gaze traveled your figure, and she sighed, grabbing one of the pillows and fluffing it. “Look. I don’t--I don’t dislike you.” She wedged it behind your back. “I just don’t get why he keeps doing all of this. I don’t know what he sees in you.”

You frowned, face hot. For once, you actually felt insulted. “Maybe it’s because I see something in him,” you replied, bending so she could fluff another. “Something that you might not care to see, anyway.”

She balked, shoving it under your shoulders. “What are you talking about? We’ve been married for three years.”

“And you’ve never stopped loving Moden that entire time.”

Johana paused and looked at you, propped upright along the headboard. You sat there, smothered in your robe, supported by cushions, constricted in a full-body cast of cotton. Her gaze drifted to the floor, and she raised her brow in thought, folding her arms over her chest. There it was--the gap in her shell.

“Maybe it’s all for the same reason,” you said. “The fact that you still love him. The fact that the Commander seems attached to me. The fact that I keep getting caught up in... everything.” You held your breath, and let it go. “Maybe it’s all because this entire thing is just… bullshit.”

She blinked. Then glanced up. “You might be right.” Her fingers burrowed into her arms. “But Moden expected me to get remarried if he passed. And he expected me to carry on what he couldn’t.” She swallowed, jaw tensing. “I don’t intend to disappoint him.”

With that, she spun, flouncing into the bathroom to grab her tote, and crossed to the bedroom door. She met your eyes in silence before staring at the hardwood. A weight, laden with deferred, unrealized, and deadened dreams, suspended between you. Shaking her head, Johana opened the door, slipped into the hall, and shut it behind her.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #kylo trash #little bird #fanfiction problems #handmaid au #woundplay #bloodplay

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440mxs-wife · 4 years ago

Text

Learning to Be Human

Imagine: Castiel's grace is gone, so you decide to teach him in the ways of being human. Along the way, you find you are developing special feelings for the angel-turned-human. When he gets his grace back, you make an amazing discovery.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains on the small window in your bedroom. You opened one eye to see the time on your bedside clock. 9:24 a.m. Wow, I didn't realize I had slept in that much. Time to get up, I suppose, you thought reluctantly to yourself.

You hopped in the shower to try and get more fully awake. You picked out your favorite pair of faded jeans, a purple scoop-neck T-shirt and black button-down overshirt. Your black ankle boots and simple jewelry completed your outfit for the day.

You wandered into the kitchen, following the aroma of brewing coffee. Someone must have set the automatic timer, because you were the only one awake at the moment. You retrieved your mixing bowls from the cupboard. You took out the large one for pancake batter and a smaller one for scrambling the eggs. You brought out the skillet for frying bacon, then turned to the fridge for your ingredients.

You had just closed the fridge door when you saw Castiel had entered the kitchen. You must have sensed his presence, because his sudden appearance didn't startle you as much. When he was an angel, his random appearances and disappearances frequently caught you off-guard.

"Good morning," he said with a smile.

"Good morning, Castiel, I hope you slept well," you replied, returning his smile.

"I did, and thank you for asking. What are you making?" he asked.

"Pancakes, eggs and bacon," you answered. You opened the pantry and pulled out the pancake mix and started measuring it for the number of pancakes you wanted to make.

"May I assist you in any way? Cooking is something I'm sure I'll need to learn, the longer I'm human," he mentioned. That, and it allows me to spend time closer to you, he thought.

"That would be wonderful," you responded, blushing a little. "If you want to help, you can start by cracking open some eggs into this bowl," you said as you pushed the bowl towards him. "I think we'll use the whole dozen today, because you know how breakfast is the most important meal of the day," you grinned.

You added the water to the pancake flour and started whisking the two ingredients together. When there were no more lumps, you turned on the griddle for cooking the pancakes. You also heated up the skillet for the bacon and put a few slices in. You handed Cas a fork to scramble the eggs. "I'll wait to cook the eggs until after the bacon is done. That way, the bacon flavor will carry over to the eggs."

"You truly are a marvel in the kitchen. I hope to learn a lot from you in this area of knowledge," Cas remarked. "Where did you learn your skills?" he asked.

"Thank you, Cas. My mom taught me everything she knew, then the rest I picked up along the way. For example, this using the bacon grease for the eggs? That's my mom. Whenever she was done cooking bacon for a Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato sandwich, she would always ask if anyone wanted eggs also. She probably learned that from her mom, and so on," you said softly.

Cas came up next to you and placed his hand on yours. "I know you lost your parents at a young age, which must have been terrible for you. But I'm sure they're watching over you, and that they are proud of the woman you have become," he said. With his index finger, he turned your face so that you were staring directly into his ocean-blue eyes.

At that moment, Dean walked into the kitchen, followed closely by Sam. Dean loudly cleared his throat as he reached behind you for his coffee cup. "Good morning, you two," he smirked. You mumbled "good morning" in reply, then returned your attention towards making breakfast. You put the bacon and pancakes on platters, the eggs in a bowl then took them to the table. You got down three plates from the cabinet, three forks from the drawer and passed them out to the boys.

"Aren't you having anything?" Sam asked.

"You guys go ahead, I'm not feeling well right now," you replied, exiting the kitchen and heading to your room. Laundry Day. That'll keep my mind occupied, you thought.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Castiel could tell that something was bothering you, and he decided to ask you about it after breakfast. He put a little of everything on his plate and tasted it. The food was so delicious that he closed his eyes in appreciation.

"So, Cas, what's going on with you two? When I walked in here, I could swear I saw sparks flying between you two," Dean started.

"There's nothing going on between us, I just enjoy her company. She was sharing a memory she had about cooking, then she got a little sad at the mention of her mother. I wanted to comfort her, so I told her that her parents would be proud of the woman she had become," Cas replied. Since he had finished his breakfast, he took his dirty dishes to the sink and left in search of you.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Yeah. Right. Nothing going on between them," Dean muttered.

"So what if there is, Dean? They're are our friends, right? Why shouldn't we want them to be happy?" Sam asked.

"Yeah? And what happens when he gets his grace back? You know those dicks upstairs aren't going to approve of an angel being in love with a human. I just don't want to see anyone get hurt, that's all," he finished.

"I'm sure that they'll figure things out as they go. And if/when he gets his grace back, they'll deal with it then, too," Sam replied. "Besides, I think it's cute."

"Cute, huh? We'll see," Dean mumbled.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You found an empty laundry basket and started to gather your clothes to be laundered. You were running low on socks, so it was a good thing today was Laundry Day. You looked around your room and noticed you had a coffee cup and water glass that belonged back in the kitchen. Then I'll have the breakfast dishes to get done, you thought with a groan.

You walked out into the main living area with your basket of dirty clothes. You then announced that if anyone had laundry they wanted done, they need to bring it to the laundry room. If not, they would have to do it themselves. All three boys jumped up and headed to their rooms, while you continued on to start your laundry.

Cas was the first one to bring his laundry in, setting his basket on top of the dryer and out of your way. He placed his hand on your shoulder and you turned to face him. "You know, you shouldn't have to worry about doing everyone's laundry. You already do so much for all of us," he remarked as he added his clothes to yours in the washing machine.

"It's all right, Cas, I'm used to it. You guys do all the tough stuff, out there fighting the monsters. I keep the light on for you at home, that's my contribution. Besides, I know you like the lavender-scented fabric softener I use, don't deny it," you teased, tapping the end of his nose. You headed into the kitchen to start on the clean-up from breakfast.

As you turned to leave, Cas took your hand. "Listen, I'm sorry if I upset you this morning, making you talk about your mother. I don't like seeing you sad," he said softly.

"Thank you, Cas. I don't mind talking about her, it's just hard sometimes. No worries, Cas," you smiled, assuring him, patting his arm as you walked by him.

You went into the kitchen to start cleaning up from breakfast, only to run into Sam taking care of the dishes. "Wow, thank you, Sam! I appreciate you for cleaning up," you said.

"Well you know, it's the least I can do, seeing as how you made such a fabulous breakfast," he grinned.

You pulled up a chair to keep Sam company while he worked. "Sam? I need to ask you about something," you started nervously.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"How long have you and Dean known Cas?" you inquired.

He thought for a minute, "Oh. Well, for about the past ten years or so," he answered.

"In all that time, have you ever seen him in a relationship with anyone?" you asked, your voice about an octave higher than usual.

"I don't kn--wait, are you trying to tell me that you have feelings for Cas?" he grinned.

"What?? No....no....yes," you said softly. "He's just so sweet. He helped me make breakfast this morning and he always seems so concerned about how I'm feeling. His smile makes my heart happy, and when he looks at me with those intense blue eyes, I can barely breathe. I could sit and talk to him for hours about anything, just to hear the sound of his voice. I know he's human now and wants to learn more about what humans do. I like that he keeps asking me to show him things, because it means that we get to spend time together," you finished.

"That's because you're patient with him and you're kind of cute," Dean broke into the conversation. "As two humans, you might have a shot at a relationship together. Trust me sweetheart, when Cas gets his grace back, you can forget about that. Angels and humans don't mix, according to the rules of Heaven," he finished.

"DEAN!" Sam exclaimed.

"Oh come on, Sam, I'm just laying it all out there for her to see. She should know the truth," Dean snapped.

"I think you did that very well, Dean. Thank you for setting me straight. I shouldn't be wasting any time thinking that Cas might return my feelings. Why would he anyway? I'm just a stupid human," you said, tears spilling from your eyes as you ran out the back door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Way to go Dean, you drove her off, and she's crying!" Sam admonished.

Castiel entered the room and demanded to know who was upset and crying. Sam explained that you were upset and had taken off out the back door. It was because of something Dean had said when he decided to tell you how well it works for angels and humans to be in love.

Cas walked up to Dean, looked him straight in the eye and said, "Why did you do that? Why would you deliberately make her cry?? Do you have any idea how special she is? Do you, Dean?? Because I do.

“Every day, I can't wait for her to wake up so that I can talk to her, just to hear what she'll say. Her laugh is the most musical sound I've ever heard. Her smile is contagious, and her mere presence lights up any room she happens to be in. She always puts others before herself, and she is the kindest and most loving person I've ever met. So I ask you again, Dean Winchester, what made you think it was all right to make her cry?" Castiel thundered.

Sam looked back and forth from Cas to Dean, waiting to see which one of them would make the next move. Sam had no idea that Cas felt this way about you, never mind the fact that he went toe-to-toe with Dean to express his feelings.

"Cas, you have to think about what happens when you get your grace back. No matter how you feel about her, Heaven isn't going to be too happy about an angel in love with a human," Dean stated.

Castiel stopped to consider something he hadn't before. "Love? Could that be what I'm feeling for her? Could she possibly feel the same about me?" Cas wondered.

"I would say that it is love you have for her, Cas. She was just in here talking to me about you, saying a lot of the same things you just said about her. Maybe you should go find her and have a talk with her," Sam suggested.

At that moment, the bunker door opened and Gabriel walked in. "What the hell do you want?" Dean demanded.

"Please! I come bearing gifts! It wasn't easy, but I located this," he answered. In his hand was a glass capsule full of a blue swirling liquid.

"My grace...." Cas whispered. He took it from Gabriel's hand and turned it over and over in his hand, but did not yet swallow it.

"Cas?" Gabriel asked. "What are you waiting for? Isn't this what you've been looking for all this time? Why don't you take it in?" he asked.

"I have to do something first," he responded, walking out the back door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You had been out in your sanctuary in the woods for quite a while before you heard footsteps. You looked down from your rocky perch and saw that it was Castiel. "Hello, Castiel," you said softly.

"Hello. I understand you had a conversation with Dean that didn't go well. I'm sorry to hear that he upset you," Cas replied.

"It's not your fault, Cas. He's probably right in some way. I mean, what chance at love would I have with someone as wonderful as you, whether you're a human or an angel? I treasure our friendship too much to risk it, especially when you probably don't feel the same way about me," you finished, your eyes cast downward.

"Sweetheart, look at me. Please don't hide your eyes from me," he gently chided, lifting your chin so you could see his face. "They're so beautiful, I could get lost for an eternity in your eyes. As for how I feel about you, well....I had a talk with Sam about it, and....truthfully, you brighten my life just by being in it. There are so many things I love about you," he stated.

Cas reached in his pocket to pull out a glass capsule that you knew had to contain his grace. "I wanted to tell you how I feel before taking this in. Angel or human, I believe that am in love with you," he declared before opening the capsule and absorbing his grace. As soon as he had taken it all in, his eyes glowed a brilliant blue and you could see the power flowing through him. You also saw what had to be wings on his back.

"Cas?" you inquired, tentatively reaching your hand forward. "Are those your wings? They're beautiful," you remarked softly.

"You can see them? What color are they?" he asked cautiously.

"They're ebony, with flecks of gold sprinkled throughout the feathers," you answered, causing a smile to spread across his face.

"Do you know what this means, my love?" You shook your head. Cas took you in his arms and before you knew it, his lips were pressed against yours. They were as soft as you expected them to be, but with a depth of emotion behind them you had never before felt.

"It means that you are my soulmate. We are meant to be together, sweetheart. Forever," he whispered. He dove in again to capture your lips with his in a fiery kiss. His wings wrapped around you in a protective and warm embrace. "I love you, Castiel," you declared as you looked into his vibrant blue eyes.

"I love you," Cas said softly.

The two of you walked back to the bunker holding hands, with your fingers intertwined. Cas could've teleported you, but you decided to make the most of your time alone together. Sam and Dean were still in the kitchen when you got back. The fact that you were holding hands did not escape notice.

"Everything okay with you two?" Sam asked.

You looked up at Castiel, love shining in your eyes. "Everything is just perfect," you answered shyly.

"Turns out that she is my soulmate," Cas announced.

"Dude, you mean she can see your wings?" Dean asked, to which you nodded.

"Well hey, congratulations, you two!" Sam exclaimed.

"Thank you, Sam," You grinned as you leaned your head against his chest and looked up into his mesmerizing eyes.

"I love you, Castiel."

"I love you too, my darling," Cas smiled and touched his forehead to yours.

#castiel #castiel x reader #spn fluff #spn imagine #supernatural

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dcbicki · 5 years ago

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24 and 97 for mileven! can't wait to read

Keep in mind I haven’t written anything substantial for Mileven in well over two months so this is a kind of rough head-first dive to get me back in the mix but… I’m back, nonetheless! And I come bearing fluff and feels aplenty!

polychrome and sweetness; sweetheart you’re perfection

24. “I know it’s the middle of the night but can you come over, please?” & 97. “How do you always manage to look so perfect?”

“I know it’s the middle of the night,” El speaks into her com, soft voice muffled by what Mike can only assume is her pillow, the orange one with the frills around the edges, “but can you come over, please?”

He knows he probably shouldn’t. He’s got school – last day of eighth grade – first thing in the morning, and his mom’s still pissed at him for skipping math last Friday. (But, you know, Hopkins was a dick teacher so Mike feels it’s totally justified).

Besides, he can just rush back home in the morning and take a page from Steve’s book and climb up a drainpipe… that is if Hopper hasn’t already found him and kicked him out on his ass by then. Which, yeah, that’s likely what’s going to happen.

“Mike?”

El sniffles, voice breaking on the ‘e’, and he’s putty then. His girlfriend –and he doesn’t think he’s ever going to tire of getting to call her that – sounds sleepy. He should probably just tell her to get some rest, tell that he’ll see her tomorrow once school’s let out for summer and they’re free to spend every waking hour together. But, really, he knows she’s not a great sleeper, and she’s been having nightmares of late that she doesn’t want to trouble the chief with.

So what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t immediately toss his comic book aside (and Peter Parker was just about to kick ass!) to slip his sneakers on, all before picking up his intercom to reply and almost knocking a lamp over in the process.

“I’ll be right there, El.” He tells her, gentle, with a flick of his hair from out of his eyes, “Don’t start reading without me.”

Sometimes he thinks Lucas has a point. “Man, you’re so far gone,” his friend likes to tell him, at least twice a week. Mike usually retorts with something in kind, reminding Lucas that he’s just as taken by his own girlfriend, and then they usually argue over who’s the more lovesick of the two until someone intervenes.

But maybe Lucas knew something he didn’t. Maybe what Mike thought was chivalry was actually just a desperate need to please, and he did like to please El.

(It’s not like he was waiting on her hand and foot, anyway. He knows where to draw the line between love and obsession, and he’s just a teenage boy on the verge of actually falling in love for the first time, if he hasn’t already. So… maybe he is too far gone, and he’s been too blind to see it, but he doubts that whatever he’s feeling for her is anything but pure adoration.)

He makes it to the cabin within twenty minutes, backpack in tow and new bike parked up around the right side of the building so Hopper doesn’t see it. It’s eight o’clock and Mike knows he leaves work early on Thursdays. He taps on El’s bedroom window softly, knuckles rapping against the dirtied glass. There’s still a couple of heart shapes drawn in the dirt where she and Max had flung mud at the window last weekend, hands covered with grass and flowers in their hair. Mike smiles, eyes flickering up to her face when she draws her curtains open, arms outspread from behind the glass.

She’s got a blanket lazily thrown over her shoulders, and the faintest traces of a grin are playing on her face.

“Mike,” the girl draws the window up, fists still clutching at her curtains, “That was fast.”

He shrugs his backpack off, drops it inside her room from over the frame. “Guess I’ve just got the hang of it,” he says. It takes a minute, but he lands on the rug in her room with the softest of thumps, long legs catching on the carpet. El stifles a laugh, and she extends a hand to help him up.

“El?” Hopper’s voice rings out from the living room, and a chair scratches against the wooden floor then.

“I’m fine!” She rushes to her door, peeking her head out to make sure he’s not coming in closer. He’s still sitting at their small kitchen table, a cigarette in one hand and the sports section in the other, but he’s got a leg sticking out as though he’s ready to leap out of his seat at any second. “Just… fell off my chair.”

Hopper doesn’t look at her, but she catches the small smile tugging at his mustache (and, oh, she still hasn’t gotten used to that). He turns the page of his paper, licking his thumb and forefinger, voice gruff, “Say hi to Mike for me.”

El’s innocent façade drops, and her shoulders slump, “Will do.”

“Door open.”

El pulls it to an almost-close then, leaving only an inch of space between the door and the frame. She twirls back around to find Mike sat cross-legged on her bed, “Anne of the Island” open to page 204 in front of him.

She unwraps the blanket from around her shoulders then, plopping down next to him on the bed. El nestles into her pillows, moving to place the frilly one behind Mike, slotted between his back and the wall.

“How do you look like that?”

She’s flushed red cheeks from fatigue or the warm summer air, Mike isn’t sure which. She’s brown curls with sunkissed highlights, pink lips chapped from too much time in the sun and a lack of chapstick. She’s all hazel eyes and baggy borrowed shirts, polychrome and sweetness, and Mike Wheeler is absolutely smitten, certain beyond his years that he’s never ever going to find her more adorable than he does right now.

El’s brows furrow at his words, confused. She glances down at her outfit, plucking at the hem of her old shirt, “I–”

“No, you’re,” Mike starts, and he stretches his legs out in front of him with a breath and a shake of his head, “I meant, how do you…” He turns to face her properly, eyes wide and amusement clear on his face, “You always look so perfect.”

“Oh.” El’s lips part, the smallest of noises catching in her throat as a blush rises to her cheeks. She gets it. “I don’t know.” She pulls her pillow closer to her face then, peeking up at him through her lashes, and Mike can tell how sleepy she is now. “I’m just like you.”

“Like me?” Mike blinks.

She nods, a strand of brown hair falling from past her ear to fall in her face, “You’re perfect, too.”

He smiles, his head ducking but his eyes remaining focused on hers. He’s not entirely sure what to reply to that without sounding like a complete cheeseball. “Then I guess we’re perfect.”

(Yeah, that was definitely cheesy. Way to go, Wheeler.)

(But maybe cheese is allowed when your girlfriend’s an ass-kicking, genetically gifted, beautiful fourteen-year-old. She’s basically a superhero. She’s like the real-life lovechild of Jean Gr–)

“Mike?”

He snaps to then, realising it’s been a moment, and that she’s just been sat patiently waiting for him to drop back down to Earth, to remember why he’s there.

El grins, teeth flashing as the corners of her eyes slowly crease into an all-knowing beaming, smile, “Can we read now?” She asks, voice smooth as honey.

(Oh, he’s putty.)

“Yeah!”

tagging: @fatechica @janeswheeler @dustinhendrsn @elhoppers @mikewheeler @calpurnias @caseyk112

#mileven #mike x eleven #stranger things #st fanfiction #fic*#ship: mike x el #'how many oneshots can i write with the exact same premise' a novel by me

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emospritelet · 6 years ago

Note

I loved KOL.... is there a chance we can get kol Zelenas reaction to belle and Stirling getting together?

Ask and you shall receive. One chapter of post-coital cuteness, Moe being a dick and Zelena finding out Gold and Belle banged.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] {Part 22] [Part 23] [Part 24] [Part 25] [Part 26] [Part 27]

AO3 link

Gold felt as though he was having a strange and wonderful dream. Belle was kissing him, her fingers in his hair and her soft mouth on his. Their bodies were pressed together, hot and sticky with perspiration, her scent all over him. They had been in bed for hours, exploring, learning, and it had already been the most incredible night of his life. There was a voice at the back of his mind telling him that he was going to be fit for nothing in the morning, but he couldn’t have cared less.

Belle let their lips part, her head dropping back onto the pillows with a contented, sleepy look in her eyes, and he couldn’t help grinning down at her. Her fingers were still stroking his hair, strands winding around them, delicate touches making him shudder deliciously. A growl from her belly made her eyes widen, and they both chuckled. Gold kissed her gently.

“Are you hungry?” he murmured, and Belle grinned.

“Starving.”

“I could cook that dinner, you know.” He kissed her again. “It’ll only take half an hour.”

“Will that mean getting up?” she asked suspiciously.

“I fear so.”

“That sounds terrible…”

He grinned, and she lifted her head to kiss him, making a contented sound as he deepened the kiss. Belle pulled her mouth from his, suddenly wide-eyed.

“Shit, what time is it?”

“I don’t know.” He rolled to the side, tilting his head to eye the clock on the nightstand. “It’s gone eleven. No wonder we’re hungry.”

“No, it’s not that - I told my dad I’d be home by now, that’s all.”

“Oh.” He tried for a neutral expression. “Well, you shouldn’t walk back at this hour. I could take you home, if you like.”

She blinked.

“Do you want me to go?”

“Of course not, but—”

“Good, then I’m staying. Just let me make a call.”

He slipped off her, and she wriggled out of the bed, scrabbling in her bag for her phone before getting back under the covers. Gold slipped out, reaching for his robe and tugging it on.

“Hey, Dad.” Belle was running a hand through her curls in an attempt to tame them. “Yeah, the snow’s really coming down. I’m not gonna try and walk back in this. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Gold raised an eyebrow as there was an increase in volume from the other end of the line, although he couldn’t work out what was being said. Belle rolled her eyes.

“Dad, I’m an adult, okay? My private life is my own affair, I don’t ask you about yours.” A pause. “Well, whose fault is that? Maybe if you spent less time slobbing in front of the TV drinking beer you could have.”

There was more agitated noise from the phone, and Belle frowned.

“What does it matter how old he is?” she asked sharply. “We were very good friends anyway, he respects me and we care about each other a lot. The fact that he’s older than me has no bearing on this relationship.”

There was more distorted bluster from the phone, and Belle sighed heavily.

“I’m sure you can manage to fry some bloody eggs and bacon!” she snapped. “You coped when I was out of town, right? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She hung up, shaking her head, and sent Gold a weary smile.

“So, that’s out, then,” she said dryly. “He’s not happy, but given that it’s none of his business, I don’t really care.”

“Nor do I.”

Inwardly he was shouting for joy. He and Belle were in a relationship. She had confirmed it, and had told her father so. They were an item, not just sleeping together. For a brief, wild moment he wondered if it was too early to ask her to move in. Belle grinned at him, settling herself beneath the covers.

“So,” she said. “Now that my father is aware that I’m being thoroughly debauched over here, what do you say we satisfy our other needs for a little while?”

“Again?” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I - I might need twenty minutes or so.”

Belle sighed, giving him a very patient look.

“Food, Stirling,” she said gently. “Feed me, I’m hungry.”

“Oh. Right.”

She wriggled a little in the bed, a wicked grin stealing over her face.

“Besides,” she said. “You need to keep your energy levels up for the rest of the night.”

Forty minutes later they were seated at the table, Belle in a spare bathrobe and he in his own, tucking into the dinner he had prepared. She had already praised the flavour of the potatoes and the tenderness of the steak, and while he was aware that he was going to have to stop grinning like an idiot at some point, it was proving difficult. Belle popped another piece of steak into her mouth, setting down her fork and taking a sip of wine.

“This is really delicious,” she said again. “And absolutely perfect as a midnight feast.”

He smiled at that.

“It’s a pleasure to have someone to cook for,” he said.

“Maybe we could invite Ruby and Dorothy over one night for a double date,” she suggested, and he nodded.

“That sounds nice. I’ve only really had Jefferson over for dinner.”

“I like Jefferson.” She took another drink. “I think he has a good heart.”

“He certainly does.”

“You think he’ll ever date someone?”

Gold shrugged.

“He says if Grace ever mentions wanting another parent he’d be happy to, but he’s concentrating on being a dad for now,” he said. “But there again he’s a dreadful flirt and disgustingly handsome, so I suspect the moment he decides he’s interested, he’ll have no problem in getting a date. Unlike me.”

“I think you’re disgustingly handsome,” she said. “And you’re also a dreadful flirt. Though in a different way.”

“In that I’m dreadful at flirting?” Gold chuckled. “Yes, I’m afraid I am.”

She grinned at him, raising a glass.

“We got there in the end,” she said, her eyes sparkling, and he felt his heart swell.

“We did indeed.”

There was silence for a moment. Gold took another bite of steak, and a forkful of creamy potatoes. Belle reached for her wine again.

“Who was Grace’s mother?”

“Ah.” Gold sighed heavily. “As I understand it, she died when Grace was a baby. Cancer.”

“That’s so sad.”

“Yes.” He took a drink of wine. “Life can be short and brutal.”

“Best to make the most of it, then.”

“A sentiment I can get behind.”

They shared a smile, and Belle turned back to her meal, cutting up the last of her steak.

“I hear the calendar’s been a roaring success,” she said. “Alice said they’ve been selling like hot cakes. Had to be reprinted, apparently.”

Gold grumbled under his breath.

“Yes, Jefferson took great delight in telling me.”

“Dr December’s lovely arse is being viewed all over the country,” she said, looking amused, and he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t remind me.”

“But I get to see it whenever I like,” she added. “Good thing too, it’s far too pretty to cover up for eleven months out of twelve.”

“I seem to recall Miss May has a rather lovely arse of her own,” he remarked.

“You should probably check, just to make sure,” she said gravely, and he smirked.

“Oh, I intend to.”

Belle bit back a grin, and there was silence for a moment as they ate.

“I plan to go to the library tomorrow,” she said then, eyeing him, and Gold tried to cover his smile by taking a sip of wine.

“Really? I thought that was all closed up.”

“Funny thing,” she said. “Someone encouraged the Mayor to let me reopen the library and give me a job as librarian as part of my Secret Santa gift. Remarkably generous. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that?”

His grin widened.

“Well, if I admitted to that, it wouldn’t be a secret any longer, would it?”

She put down her knife and fork, reaching for his hand and squeezing, her eyes gleaming as she smiled at him, and he felt his heart thump in his chest.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you so much.”

“You should thank Mayor Mills,” he said. “It’s she that has the power to make such appointments.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was all her idea,” she said dryly. “I thanked her when I accepted the offer. And as soon as you’re done with dinner, I’m gonna take you back upstairs and show you exactly how grateful I am.”

She sat back, releasing his hand and grinning widely, and Gold grinned back. Yes. It was far too early to ask her to move in, but he knew with absolute certainty that he wanted to. She was perfect. She was the one.

Gold could feel the smile on his face even before he opened his eyes. His body ached pleasantly, his limbs heavy and tired. It was morning; the light was pressing against his eyelids, making him want to squint. Reaching to the side, his hand slid across cool sheets, searching for Belle.

“The snow was really heavy.”

Her voice made him open one eye a crack. Belle was standing at the bay window of the bedroom, peering out. She was completely naked, her back to him, and he ran his eyes over her curves, his grin widening.

“You’ll freeze to death,” he said, and Belle glanced over her shoulder, dark curls tangled and messy.

“I just wanted to see,” she said. “Looks like we might have to dig our way out. Beautiful day, though.”

“Come back to bed.”

She grinned, letting the curtain swing shut again, and hurried over to the bed, her breasts bouncing pleasantly. He held open the covers for her to burrow beneath, hissing as she snuggled up next to him, her skin cold from the air.

“You’re lovely and warm,” she said, her voice muffled a little by his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her.

“You’re freezing,” he said sternly. “And as delightful a sight as that was, I’d prefer not to have to nurse you through a bout of the flu again.”

Belle murmured agreement, kissing his chest.

“In that case we should stay in bed,” she said, and yawned. “Far too dangerous to get up, I’d say.”

“Agreed.”

He dipped his head beneath the covers, mouth seeking hers, and Belle kissed him hungrily, pushing him onto his back as her hands began to trail over his body. It was a perfect way to wake up.

Belle opened the front door of her father’s house, ears pricked for any signs of life. The sound of the TV could be heard as she stepped inside, and she closed the door quietly, hoping to be able to sneak past and up the stairs.

“Belle!”

Dammit! She chewed her lip, tugging off her boots and hearing the thump of Moe’s feet as he approached. He wrenched open the lounge door, striding into the hallway in a stained T-shirt and baggy sweatpants, unshaven, bleary-eyed and stinking of stale beer.

“What time do you call this?” he demanded.

“Twelve oh-five,” she said airily, straightening up.

“I was up half the night worrying!”

“Well, I’ve no idea why,” she said. “I told you where I was, and that I’d be home this morning. And so I am.”

She shrugged off her coat, hanging it on the hook and tugging off her coat and scarf.

“So,” he said ominously. “So.”

“So what?” she asked, turning on her toes. Moe scowled.

“Don’t you take that tone with me!”

“What tone?” she demanded. “What are you trying to say?”

“You were out all night!”

“Yeah, and I checked in, told you where I was gonna be, and came home when I said!” she snapped. “I’m not a teenager, I’m an adult!”

She stalked past him into the kitchen, reaching for the kettle to fill it with water.

“So, you’re seeing this doctor bloke, is that it?”

“Yes,” she said, trying for a calmer tone. “We’re together, we’re serious - very serious, actually - and I’m very happy.”

She turned to the cupboard to get out cups, noting with a frown that he hadn’t cleaned up after himself; an empty pizza box sat on the worktop and dirty breakfast dishes were piled in the sink. She’d lost count of the times she’d asked him not to do that.

“What can you two possibly have in common?” he asked.

“Lots, actually,” she said stiffly. “We like books, and talking about current issues, and music, and food. We’re very good friends, and he’s a good man.”

“He’s too old for you.”

“I think that’s for me to decide.”

“And he’s got a limp.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” she snapped.

“I just meant you could probably meet someone who’s more - mobile.”

“I don’t care that he has a limp,” she said impatiently, taking out the tea and slamming the cupboard door. “Look, I’ll invite him over one night, you can meet him.”

“So it’s serious, then?”

“Yes,” she said patiently. “It’s serious. Very serious. We love each other.”

“Oh, how can you possibly know that?” he sneered. “You’ve only been on one date!”

“But we’ve been friends for ages!” she insisted. “Besides, you told me you and Mum knew on the first date.”

“That was different.”

“It always is, isn’t it?” she said tartly. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter whether you believe me or not. We’re serious.”

“Well, if you think I’m gonna sit around and watch you two canoodling on the couch every night, you can forget it!”

“You won’t have to,” said Belle, opening the fridge to take out the milk. “I’m moving out. No canoodling exposure required.”

“You’re moving out?”

“Yep.”

She turned to face him, folding her arms and raising her chin. He was silent for a moment, swaying a little where he stood.

“I don’t want you to go,” he said, almost plaintively, and Belle felt herself soften a little.

“I’ll come over and visit,” she said. “It’s not like you’re not gonna see me, it’s just that I’ll have my own place.”

“You mean you’re moving in with him?”

“No,” said Belle patiently. “I mean I’m moving into the apartment above the library. I have a new job, remember?”

“You didn’t tell me you’d be moving out,” he said sulkily.

“Yeah, well, you’d only just come out of hospital,” she said. “I wasn’t sure how long it was gonna be before I could leave you on your own.”

“Well, what makes you think you can?” he asked. “I need your help!”

“No, you don’t,” she said impatiently. “You’re quite capable of cooking and cleaning up after yourself, you just prefer me to do it. I thought I might be able to help you with your diet and exercise, but you don’t listen to me anyway. You just do whatever you’ve always done, and I don’t have the energy to fight with you.”

“That’s not true!”

“You know it’s true, Dad,” she sighed. “What did you have for breakfast this morning?”

There was a pause. “Bacon and eggs.”

“And how many drinks did you have last night?”

“Beer or whisky?”

Belle sighed again. “See?” she said. “I can’t make you look after yourself, so what’s the point? It’s just stressing both of us out.”

“But I need help around the house!”

“Get a cleaner.”

“I can’t afford that!”

“You can if you stop bloody drinking,” she said. “Just a few hours a week, that’s all. The more you look after yourself, the quicker you’ll be back at work, the sooner you can earn money again. I can help out a little until then.”

“Got it all worked out, don’t you?” he said sourly, and Belle turned back to the counter to make the tea.

“Yes,” she said. “For the first time in years I feel like I actually know what I’m doing.”

Belle had been out of his house since the previous morning, but Gold found that he couldn’t stop smiling. The two of them had spent most of the morning in bed before showering together, and then ate a late breakfast of smoked salmon and scrambled eggs before she left to go home. Belle had said that she was going to spend the next couple of days cleaning the library and sorting the book collection, and had asked him to meet her there after his shift the next day. It was hard to say goodbye to her, but the feeling of euphoria she had left behind took a long time to dissipate.

He was still feeling on top of the world when he went to the hospital the next morning, but he tried to keep it inside, distracting himself with the work of a busy shift, filled with minor injuries, breaks and sprains, and a suspected case of pneumonia. By the time he managed to take a break for lunch he was tired, and lined up next to Dorothy in the cafeteria, hungry enough to brave the sausage casserole. Dorothy accepted her own plate of mac and cheese, which made his nose wrinkle.

“So,” she said, glancing across at him as she set her plate on her tray. “I’ve been dying to ask you all morning - how was the date?”

“It was - good,” he said, and they shifted down the line.

“Just good?”

“It was really good, then.”

Dorothy eyed him, lips pursed and a look of suspicious appraisal on her face.

“Please tell me you didn’t screw it up.”

“How would I screw it up?” he protested, and she shrugged, reaching for an apple and a pot of yogurt.

“I dunno - telling her she didn’t look too hideous when she was actually stunning?”

“That was one time,” he sighed. “And I told you that in confidence.”

“I’m not announcing it to the cafeteria, am I?” she said. “Come on, tell me you gave her a compliment.”

“Of course I did, she looked very lovely.”

“And?” she pressed, turning her hand over and over to encourage him to expand.

“And we had a very pleasant time.”

Dorothy sighed.

“Okay, so tell me you’re going out again.”

“We have another date planned,” he confirmed, and she looked satisfied.

“Well, that’s progress, I guess. Good.”

“She suggested that we have a dinner date with you and Miss Lucas,” he added. Dorothy frowned.

“Wait, did you guys find you had nothing to talk about?”

“No, not at all.”

“So why does she want to include another pair on this date? Were you nice to her? Please tell me you were nice.”

“Of course I was nice!” he said impatiently.

“You didn’t start telling her about some disgusting medical complaint you took care of one time because you couldn’t think of anything else to say?”

“No!” he snapped. “How much of an idiot do you think I am?”

Dorothy made a non-committal sound at the back of her throat.

“Okay, well in that case, we’d be delighted,” she said. “You’re a good cook, right?”

“So Belle says,” he confirmed, a little smugly.

“Satisfaction of the culinary variety is always good,” she said, and winked. “You know, if you like, I’m willing to provide you with some guidance on proving satisfaction of the other variety.”

“I don’t need any guidance, thank you.”

“You sure?” she asked, grinning. “If you want to know how to please a woman, ask a lesbian. I can totally help you out. Guaranteed orgasms.”

“I think not,” he said dryly.

“Belle will thank you for it, trust me.”

“For your information, we already had sex,” he said, and reached past her to grab a banana. Dorothy let out a squawk.

“What? Since when?”

“Since our first date,” he said, trying to make his own grin a little less smug. “I assure you there were plenty of orgasms.”

“Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“Well, I expect because it’s none of your business.”

“Are you kidding me?” she squeaked indignantly, slapping his arm. “You and Belle had sex and you didn’t tell me?”

A crash from behind made them jump, and a ripple of applause followed it. Gold turned on his heel, to see Zelena glaring at them, chest heaving and nostrils flaring, a dropped tray with a broken plate and the splattered remains of spaghetti bolognese on the floor at her feet. Dorothy put her arm around Gold’s waist, smirking.

“That’s right,” she said loudly. “Dr Gold and his lovely new girlfriend had all the sex! Isn’t that right, Goldie?”

“Don’t ever call me that again,” he said flatly. “But yes.”

There was a chorus of cheers from the nurses at the tables, which made his cheeks heat. Zelena looked as though she was about to explode, but rather than shouting, she marched swiftly from the room, arms swinging by her sides as though she wanted to punch someone. Gold hoped that she wouldn’t come across Belle in the next hour or two. He turned back to his tray, still blushing, and Dorothy was cackling by his side.

“That should get her off your back for awhile,” she said.

“God, I hope so,” he muttered. “Subtlety seems to be lost on her.”

He helped himself to a piece of cake, figuring he deserved the calories, and Dorothy nudged him.

“Man, I thought you two would never do it,” she said, looking delighted. “This calls for a celebration. Drinks after work?”

“I can’t,” he said, a satisfied grin on his face. “I’m meeting Belle at the library.”

“Careful, you’ll tire yourself out.”

“I said we’re meeting at the library,” he said patiently. “It’s a date. It doesn’t mean we’re getting hot and heavy in amongst the books.”

“You say that now…”

Gold sighed, amused.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Probably not as much as you, but yes.” She grinned at him. “I expect an invite to the wedding.”

“Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, right, like you haven’t thought about it.”

“Okay, shut up,” he muttered, and she cackled.

#fic: kiss of life #rumbelle fic #my fic #dr!gold x candy striper!belle #rumbelle #anasiangrump

55 notes · View notes

nyctimus · 4 years ago

Note

Text symbols meme thing for Ivanpez and Talix and like lit anyone else you wanna do it for.

Set in MB:R verse!

IVANPEZ-

MORNING text.

8:03 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Hi handsome! Don’t forget you promised to meet me for brunch at that cute little bistro on main, okay?! Can’t wait to see your pretty face! 🥰

text that WASN’T SENT.

9:30 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] My mother has enough money to cover the slack for us if you just quit your job

RUSHED text.

4:45 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] I’m SOOO sooo sorry I’m running late :((( Got stuck in the goddamn metroplex traffic, swear to god I’ll move to the wilderness and abandon the city completely one day. I’ll be there soon! Promise!

DRUNK text.

3:09 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Move in with me wuit your job. I’ll quit mine. We can go somewhere nice like ... 3:12 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Whefe? Where you what to go 3:13 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Beach? We c an skinny dip every night 3:13 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Hou can buiold a nice beach hut an I will make nice curtains for it, okay?

SUGGESTIVE text.

2:57 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you insisted on wearing that skimpy little white tank to work in just to try and tempt me to tear it off of you.

LATE NIGHT text.

1:15 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Come here. I want cuddles, and my bed is nicer than yours

HATEFUL text.

5:44 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Peter. 5:44 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] I don’t know what I’ve done to upset you, but I promise I’ll right it. 5:49 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] What do you mean? Of course I have, why else would you have worn those atrocious, eye- searing shirts every day for the past WEEK if not to punish me? 5:51 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] What? 5:51 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you’re punishing me. 5:52 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Still too angry to tell me what I’ve done, I see. Okay. I’ll try again later.

RANDOM text.

2:32 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Gold or indigo? I can’t decide.

SCARED text.

6:45 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Hey, I thought you’d be back by now? 7:02 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Pete? 7:13 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Peter??? Please pick up 7:26 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Baby please

LOVING text.

10:50 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Good night, sweet boy, I hope you have the very best dreams... I know you’re nervous about tomorrow, but you shouldn’t be... you’re perfect. 10:52 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] You’ve got this. Now get some rest... don’t make me come over there 10:52 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Fine, then. See you soon

CURIOUS text.

3:13 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] What are your favorite appetizers? Salty or sweet? Party hosting has become just a little more complicated since I started caring more about your opinion than my own. Feelings can be so pesky sometimes 😛

EXCITED text.

3:13 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Pete! 3:13 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Can you believe we’re leaving on our veeeery first vacation together as a couple together today? Even if it’s just a little two day getaway, I’m SO excited, I’ve been looking forward to this all week. 3:13 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Can’t wait to have you all to myself. You may be sick of me by the time this is over. Fair warning!

ACCIDENTAL text.

1:19 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s entirely possible I’m just a way for him to pass a little time. And I’m fine with that. Obviously. Why wouldn’t I be?

HEARTBREAKING text.

1:19 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Pete? 1:24 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] My mother just died. I.... I’m packing to head home to Paris now. Can you go with me?

/ / /

TALIX-

MORNING text.

5:25 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I know you’re sleeping and won’t even see this for another 6 hours or so, but if you come give me a ride home I’ll smuggle you a whole loaf of that cinnamon coffee cake you like. Please

text that WASN’T SENT.

10:17 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] How do you do it? Live like that constantly? It was a ten minute experience two months ago but I’m still having nightmares

RUSHED text.

3:59 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] K, I know Ellis would probably throw the entire knife drawer at your face if you show back up here but there are SO many drunk assholes here right now it almost seems worth it to beg you to come save me

DRUNK text.

9:42 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] U just reality want you to hold me brighttnkw 9:42 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] Plea.Se. And pet my hair, Anne kiss my nose. Ok?

SUGGESTIVE text.

4:35 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I know this is fucked up, okay... 4:35 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] And idk if it’s the full moon or what, but I can’t stop thinking about you with your gun when I’m getting off 4:35 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] Your actual gun. Not your dick, love that one too but the one you... you know what I mean 4:35 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] The way you hold it. Your fingers. Those fucking veins in your arms, Jesus Christ

LATE NIGHT text.

1:32 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] Are you okay? I know it’s silly to be afraid for you every single time the news mentions turf wars and casualties, but I worry about you. Text me when you can

HATEFUL text.

5:18 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] Swear to fuck next stuck up ass businessman that walks through these doors, orders coffee and then wrinkles his nose when he tastes it is getting the whole pot poured on his fancyboy suit. Why do people come here wanting Starbucks? I’m going to scream

RANDOM text.

7:30 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] ...Pretty sure your kid is here staking me out right now. Not even subtle. Staring me down as I text this. Should I be concerned? Pretend I don’t know him? SOS

SCARED text.

4:06 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I think someone’s following me. I keep seeing the same car. At work, outside my apartment 4:07 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] In the parking lot at Krogers. What should I do? 4:08 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I know if they see you it might make things worse but can you come get me? Please. I’m scared

LOVING text.

7:31 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] Hey, hot stuff. I’ll be dead to the world by the time you read this but I just wanted to tell you I hope you have a good day. Kick everyone’s ass. Don’t get arrested. 💖 xo

CURIOUS text.

9:22 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] What do you have planned for Thanksgiving? My brother’s hounding me to bring you back to the farm. No pressure either way. He’s kind of a lot. I think he wants to shovel talk you, so... feel free to be busy, haha

EXCITED text.

5:48 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] You know that cat I’ve been leaving canned tuna out for for like, the last month and a half? 5:48 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] SHE CAME INSIDE 5:48 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] And killed my favorite plant, but! SHE CAME INSIDE!!!

ACCIDENTAL text.

8:57 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I know you’re just worried about me, and I get that 8:57 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] But you need to fuck off. It’s none of your business, man

HEARTBREAKING text.

6:22 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I know I’m being an asshole doing this over text 6:22 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] But I’ve been trying for weeks to say it in person, and I just can’t. I look at you and it wipes everything else out of my brain 6:22 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I don’t know how to commit to a guy with a kid. 6:22 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] And I know you warned me, first thing, and I know I’m being horribly selfish 6:22 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I just. I guess I’m looking for something else. 6:22 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I’m sorry.

/ / /

DONNY/GRAHAM-

MORNING text.

7:37 am [Graham → bitchboy] it’s cold, jackass. if you’re gonna fucking leave me here to freeze by myself you could at least turn up the heat wtf 7:37 am [Graham → bitchboy] inconsiderate motherfucker

text that WASN’T SENT.

7:36 am [Graham → bitchboy] please come back, i dont sleep as well without you

RUSHED text.

6:44 pm [Graham → bitchboy] fucking setup? target expecting me so find your leak

DRUNK text & ACCIDENTAL text.

2:57 am [Graham → bitchboy] i wasfn EXPECTING him, tyler 2:57 am [Graham → bitchboy] i mean everypnoes heard of him. what an asshole he is. cause he is. but hes this asshole who owns a TEDDY BEAR 2:59 am [Graham → bitchboy] of course you won’t believe nme but im not lyin i swear it on my mams grave 3:02 am [Graham → bitchboy] and its not his sons. its his. its so cute. hes cyte. ill stab your duck if you tell anyone 3:03 am [Graham → bitchboy] duck 3:03 am [Graham → bitchboy] duck 3:03 am [Graham → bitchboy] y ouknow. 3:04 am [Graham → bitchboy] god. 3:04 am [Graham → bitchboy] its’ terinle

SUGGESTIVE text & EXCITED text.

11:52 pm [Graham → bitchboy] finally finished up here. 11:52 pm [Graham → bitchboy] eta 47 mins, have your office clear and my reward ready ;)

LATE NIGHT text.

12:02 am [Graham → bitchboy] sometimes i feel like you’re intentionally giving me the lamest possible fucking targets. wtf. i like killing bitches that will stab me back, not pushing pathetic ass grannies down the stairs while her 50 cats watch me? im picking my own files from here on out 12:03 am [Graham → bitchboy] and im bringing the cats 12:03 am [Graham → bitchboy] maybe youll think twice before pulling this shit on me again

HATEFUL text.

6:26 pm [Graham → bitchboy] you sign my paychecks. thats it. you dont get to tell me what to do outside of that. dont get it twisted just because were fucking, asshole

RANDOM text.

8:32 pm [Graham → bitchboy] idc what we do for dinner but i really want cheesecake so

CURIOUS text.

4:30 am [Graham → bitchboy] idk what you and dj usually do for holidays. should i head out? i can crash at my old room at tys, i dont mind

SCARED text & LOVING text & HEARTBREAKING text.

4:29 am [Graham → bitchboy] idk, got me good thus time. pulling over. behind sunoco on 35. dont wnna crash but you should send someone to gt rid of the folders if not my body too by rhen. too much evidence sorry 4:30 am [Graham → bitchboy] im really sorry 4:30 am [Graham → bitchboy] i love you. sorry for not telling you until now . sorry. im so sorry

#iheardarumorxxx #talix #ivanpez #donny & graham #graham is a man of few texts it seems #i was kinda lost with the excited one so just smushed it with the suggestive #bc thats abt as excited as hed get over texts

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makeup-wonder-woman · 7 years ago

Text

A soul mate to remember chapter 10

A/N: Welcome to my 200 follower celebration! I’ll be posting 2 chapters in my series, and opening up Headcanons for 24 hours!!! You defiantly have to send them in through my ask box for me to def. answer/see it.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9,

Tags: @welcometothecity, @miss-nerdalots,@marvelsimaginess, @naturalnation123 , @suavehayes @nervouswastelandvoid, @glrynwor (let me know if I missed you/you want to be tagged) so I can add you to the list! Hope you enjoyed!

Chapter 10-

It had been three months since Jason and you had met, you had still kept his secret, and he had occasionally come to work with you. Your stitches were out but your leg wasn't fully healed, your Mom somehow sprang back faster then you, and it annoyed you ‘cause she was now a big helicopter mom. But in the last few days she'd backed off.

The public found out your name not long after that lunch. You soon noticed that many, many women gave you some dirty looks whenever you were out and about, but you couldn't really blame them, your Soul Mate was attractive and part-heir to a fortune. You didn't particularly care about that, you weren’t gonna lie, you were eternally grateful that your soul mate was a 10.

Your mother was thrilled, however, more so about the money. After all, you lived in an apartment, and you had no hope to move out in the near future, as half of your money that you made working three days a week went to your rent and the other half went to any fees that the program you were in, didn't pay for. You tried not to focus on the money, but the two of you had spoken briefly on it, but you both were both too nervous to really breach the topic, you guessed.

You thought about how people treated you different now. Like when Ben had come back to work that following Wednesday, his usual chipper self. He was a kind boy with sandy hair and deep brown eyes that pulled you into a cacoon of safeness and warmth if you got too close. Ban and you watched the kiddos as they played in the sanctuary- that doubled as an indoor gym at times-though any sort of sports-ball was strictly prohibited. He fashioned a paper fortune teller for a two preschoolers,"So. I hear someone met their soul mate."

You nodded,"Yep."

Ben's eyes suddenly became cold and his whole demeanor seemed to shift,"Well good luck with him."

You stiffened, about to retort or say something, when as soon as that shift was there, it was gone. Ben was back to his warm, charming self and was rounding up the kids for snack and story time. You scrambled up after him, maybe you had been seeing things?

You put it out of your mind, after all Ben hadn't done anything similar after and it had been a few months. Jason and You were having dinner. You shouldn't be thinking about those kinds of things, you decided. The two of you were talking about our childhoods more in depth, when Jason asked,"So, can I know about your father?"

You put down your fork,"I don't see why not. He..." You paused thinking over your words and how to best choose them,"He was a good Dad, a little bit of a hard ass at times, but he was still good. He... He died trying to evacuate the streets during one of those Batman-Gang fights a while back."

Jason nodded,"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," You sighed,"He knew the risks, especially living in Gotham. I just wish he could have met you. I think he'd like you."

Jason took your hand and gave you a soft smile,"I think I would have liked him too."

We settled on a routine, you’d see Jason during the day, and after his nightly activities, he'd usually shoot you a text which you'd read that morning, just to know he was fine.

But one night, You were working on a research paper due the next evening. It was late, or rather early, about two-thirty. You hair was pulled up into a bun, and you wore only a white tank top and tights. You were so focused on your work you had hardly heard the loud noise out on your fire escape, the only thing that made you snap back to reality was the heavy tapping on your window. You set your laptop aside and pulled your blackout curtains aside, revealing the Red Hood, holding his side and kneeling.

Your mouth dropped open and you rushed to get the window open,"oh my god," You gasped when I really looked at him. You gave a heave at the window before repositioning your hands. You hadn't opened the window in about a year and struggled with it, but eventually it creaked open. You leapt back and helped Red Hood- who surprisingly, tried not to get his dirty boots on your bed- into your room,"Are you okay?"

Instead of responding, he collapsed onto the floor with a groan. You quickly glanced out your window, looking for anyone else. Finding no one, you shut the window and then repositioned the curtain,"Jason," you asked tentatively, moving to kneel next to him,"What happened? Are you okay?"

Jason opened his eyes and the weird white 'eyes' for his helmet settled on you,"Yeah," he rasped out,"I'll be fine," he removed his gloved hand from his side to reveal a shallow cut,"Got grazed by a knife. Won't need stitches or anything, thankfully."

You nodded and smiled,"I can fix that right up!" Jason watched you, his eyes widening with amusement as you lifted your bed's skirt and crawled under it.

"Not that I don't love the view,"Jason told me as you reached for your tub of first aide supplies,"But what are you going?"

In response, You came back out from under your bed with the large blue tub and smiled,"Ta-Da!"

Jason chuckled and removed his helmet,"Oh I get it, you wanna play nurse?"

You bit your cheek, and crossed your arms over your chest,"I figured with your family, of need the supplies. Plus, my dad taught me everything he knew about first aide."

Jason sobered up slightly,"Oh I see. What else did your dad teach you besides first aide?"

"Take your shirt off," You told him pulling out some antiseptic and bandages. Jason shot you a look and you blushed,"Not like that. But I'll tell you after you do."

Jason smirked and took his shirt off. You had to force your mouth to stay closed at his physique, geez. You knew You shouldn't be thinking like this but God just wants to make life hard for you didn't he? You don't even want to have to have a conversation or debate about virginity and stuff like that with Pastor Howard but you could see the man worrying. So, you should expect one soon. Especially if Jason was possibly half of the man his adopted father was.

Your hands shook as you opened the antiseptic, but quickly poured it onto the wound, Jason hissing as it made contact. You brought the bottle back up and you both watched as it fizzed. It only took a few moments for it to really clean itself and You pulled out the gauze and wiped it clean while saying,"Dad taught me self-defense too. As well as how to shoot a gun, and some Mind-Trick stuff like common tells from liars. Then the basic stuff, driving, swimming how to ride a bike."

You went to bandage the cut but your hands were still shaking. Jason grasped you hands, then shifted them into one of his and used the other to tilt your face up at him,"Are you okay?"

You looked down, your hands steadily loosing their shake,"Dad... Was... Stabbed. He made it to a hospital, and he fought hard... But..."

Jason brought your hands up to his mouth and kissed them before bandaging up his cut himself,"I... Know what it's like to feel worried and scared, I might not be able to feel your specific pain, but I relate."

You cocked your head at him,"You know, most people say sorry or something."

"I want my Sorries to mean something."

You smiled and leaned into him, being carful of his cut,"I see. Why did you wait so long to come and see me?"

"Didn't wanna push you or go too fast. I have been stopping by every night though."

"That is equally as sweet as it is creepy."

Jason smirked and wrapped his arm around you, then kissed the top of your head. You lifted your face and caught him off guard by kissing him. You both relaxed into it immediately, so much so that we fell backward, and you ended up laying on him. You blushed and stammered but Jason held me against him, and just kissed me saying,"I won't move too fast, I swear. But tonight, I really want to kiss you- is that okay?"

You nodded, and he pulled me down to him.

At some point we had just been cuddling and you had fallen asleep, and Jason had put you back into bed, put in his shirt and helmet, before exiting through your window, locking it behind him.

Jason returned to the manor, and was surprised to find his Mother still up waiting for him. He smirked,"Ma, I'm not a kid... You don't need to wait up anymore, for all you know I could have been at one of safe houses."

Mrs. Wayne looked back over her mug of tea at her son,"Jason Peter Todd Wayne," Jason flinched at the use of his full name,"I want grandchildren, but I would appreciate if you would wait until you and your soulsmate are out of college."

Jason nodded,"Okay. I'll keep that in mind. Besides we haven't even gotten that far yet."

Mrs Wayne 'hmmmmed,"And here I thought you'd take after your father... Or Dick..."

Jason smirked and simply hugged his mother,"No, thankfully all your lectures about gentlemanly behavior somehow stuck with me."

"Good. Otherwise you'd get the safety talk from me every time you met a girl. I feel like that's the only why Dick hasn't brought any girls around here lately."

"That would explain it."

#Jason Todd #Jason Peter Todd #Jason Peter Todd Wayne #soulmate!au #soulmate AU #Chapters #Batman #DC #DC comics #Jason Todd X Reader #fanfiction #self-insert #reader-insert #Reader insert

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