#getting in the mood to gif again slowly but surely

[paramores]

Paramore Syracuse, 2018

[darnell-la]

𝗜'𝗟𝗟 𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧

pairing: old man!logan howlett x young female!reader

warnings: staring, rude people in public, Logan with no emotion, begging, oral (male receiving), riding, doggy, neck kisses, slightly forced cream pie, multiple orgasm, moans from both sides, very rough sex, angry animalistic Logan, etc.

request: Hi! I love your work, Could I request Oldman!Logan x young fem!reader (22 years) that has a baby fever and really wants to have Logan's baby (also to shut the mouths of those who make fun of her dating an older man), she decides to prepare a surprise for him so that he can get her pregnant soon. Reader is needy and Logan is rude.

note: Logan as always is mean and an over-thinker, but he can’t seem to not give what his perfect girl wants. A breeding session.

teaser - Logan gets kinda subby in here. can’t stop cumming…

———

How do you guys feel about an X-Men story with the reader? Logan is rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!

———

“Stop gettin’ in your feelings, Bub. They ain’t gon stop,” Logan said, talking about the people looking their way in the expensive restaurant Logan decided to take y/n out at.

“But, isn’t it rude? Why do they care so much about who I’m with? Or who you’re with!?” Y/n tried whispering and keeping her facial expressions normal. She didn’t want them to know she was bothered, but it wasn’t hard to see.

“Just relax, Bub — Ain’t nun gon happen with a few eyes lookin’ attcha,” Logan had picked up the menu to continue searching through what he wanted to order for himself and his girl.

“Are you two ready, or shall you get more time?” The man asked in an accent that made Logan roll his eyes. “Just appetizers for now. Gonna get the cheese bites with a side of marinara sauce, and two Caesar salads,”

“And drinks?” The waiter asked as he looked at y/n, wanting to hear the young lady talk as he was done listening to the older grumpy man.

“I’ll have a whiskey, no ice, and she’ll have water for now,” Logan ordered for her, eyes still on the menu as y/n faked a bright smile on her face so at least one of them looked like they wanted to be here.

“Are you sure that’s all you want? We have a lot of cocktails. Even mocktails if you’re not feeling alcohol going lady,” Logan laughed at the small sign the water gave. They always go.

“She’s fine, trust me,” Logan said, leaning his girl from head to toe. He knew her like a book. He knew her life at the back of his hands. He loved showing it too.

“I’m fine, thank you,” y/n smiled at the man as he looked at Logan. He wanted to speak, say something, but he couldn’t. Logan wasn’t actually doing anything to make the man complain.

“Get a load of that guy,” y/n rolled her eyes as he walked off. “Yep,” Logan said, not really caring. “Why are you always so calm? He was disrespecting us. Disrespecting you,” y/n said, confused about why the man never cared.

“I’m still alive, aren’t I? You’re making it seem like that fetus of a man shot at me,” y/n rolled her eyes and sat back as she crossed her arms, upset at the lack of care Logan had. She felt like she was the only one who cared about things.

Throughout the night, Logan made small talk with y/n to ease her mood. She tried to stay upset at the man, but the hand grabs, foot nudges, and complements made her melt

“Said you had a surprise for me, Bub?” Logan asked as the two made it into the hotel that Logan bought for the night. The top floor had a good view, a view he knew y/n would love.

“Yeah, but I thought we were going back to the house,” y/n pouted, a bit tipsy as Logan carried her through the door. “I know, and I apologize, princess. If you left it at the house, you can give it to me tomorrow. Or I can go get it now?” Logan suggested.

“No, no, you don’t have to do all that. I-I got it. I got it,” Y/n said as she kicked her heels off and walked towards the bed with Logan.

He had a few drinks, but that never affected him. She prayed it would tonight so she wouldn’t have to work hard, but she’ll deal with it.

Y/n knows Logan’s a hard one to crack, but the man loved her. He’s so anything for her, so a long session of begging or anything of that sort, would make him crack. Only for her.

“Get comfortable — I’ll be back,” Y/n said as she stumbled to the bathroom. Logan chuckled as he got undressed, already knowing y/n wanted to have sex. She always does, and he never says no.

Y/n didn’t take long to get stripped and walk out of the bathroom slowly. The lights were dim, and Logan sat up against the headboard of the bed, legs spread and waiting for his perfect girl.

“I-I know you’re against it, and I know you always shut me down, but tonight is special. I-I really, really want you tonight,” Y/n said, slowly crawling on the bed as Logan’s chest rose.

“You always get me, Bub, so what’s there to beg about?” Logan said as he rubbed his thighs. “I want you to cum in me,” y/n looked at him with those eyes he could barely say no to.

“Y/n, don’t start tonight. Ian tryna ruin the night,” Logan has rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Baby, please,” y/n begged, trailing her hands up his legs until they were mid-thigh.

“Keep beggin’ for that shit, and ima turn around and go to sleep,” Logan warned the girl, but she ignored him and put his cock in her hand. “C’mon, daddy, please,” y/n said, bringing out the word she used in once in a blue moon.

“Nah uh, get off, y/n. I told you what was gonna happen-“ Before he could finish, y/n wrapped her wet mouth around his tip, sucking down hard as her tongue moved up and down his slit.

“F-Fuck,” Logan’s legs shook as he gripped the sheets. “Y/n, remove your fucking mouth,” Logan demanded, but she ignored him, looking into his angry dark eyes as she slipped down onto his cock, taking all the inches in that she could.

“Y-Y/n!” The man groaned loudly, hips bucking as his hand went to her hair, pulling her up to get her off, but not strong enough. He was physically stronger than her, so she knew if he wanted her off, he’d get her off.

“Fuckin- Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ bad,” Logan said as his other hand cupped her cheek. “But you take my cock so well,” Logan admitted with a chuckle as he slowly began moving her head at a pace he wanted her to suck in.

“Always so fuckin’ needy — Needy little slut can’t just enjoy my cock. Always needs my cum to satisfy her,” Logan said, now moving his hips, allowing his cock to thrust up into her throat.

“That’s it, kid — Fuckin’ suck me up since you want it so bad. You ain’t gettin’ it in that cunt. You ain’t earn it yet,” Logan said, watching spit spill from her mouth.

Y/n did her best to look up and into his eyes. Her was glossy, streaming tears as he grew dark. He couldn’t hold back his deep groan at the sight of her taking his cock like this.

“Don’t fuckin’ look at me like that,” Logan said, getting angry at her. He hated how bad she was, but loved that she’d do anything to get what she wanted from him.

“Fuckin’ brat,” Logan growled, snapping his hips faster to make her gag and cough on his cock. Maybe if she was too busy trying to focus on taking him, she’d stop silently begging for him to breed her.

It’s not like the man didn’t want to. He was just insecure. Yeah, he and y/n had been dating for a while, but the people roaming about are right. At least that’s what he thought at the time.

What if he is too old for her? He’d basically be baby-trapping her if he gave her what she wanted. He swore she’d regret it.

He forced himself to think that way, but every time y/n took his cock, rather that was with her mouth, cunt, ass, or anything, she’s beg him to breed her. Something in him knew she wanted it, but the other part held him back.

“Fuck, y/n, stop it! Stop fucking looking at me like that!” Logan shouted at the girl, an animalistic tone slipping out as he fucked her throat.

Y/n didn’t stop. She continued, whether her eyes could barely stay on him or not, she kept looking up at him, begging him to breed her.

“Y/n, I can’t — I fucking can’t,” the man had thrown his head back, whining as he felt himself near. He’s me we did that before, but him trying to yell her no but also seeing her beg, was too much for him. He was overstimulated by his thoughts.

Y/n slapped Logan’s hands off of him and quickly crawled onto him. She grabbed his cock and aligned herself with him before sitting down.

The moan that escaped her mouth made his eyes widen. “F-Fuck, kid, stop it!” Logan said, but his hands came to her waist and kept her in place. She tried to bounce, but he didn’t even allow her to do that.

Logan’s feel curled as his fingernails dug into her sides, causing her to feel in pain, but also pleasure. “Do it, daddy, please,” was all had to say on his cock before he jumped over the edge.

Logan’s mouth parted as his whole body stuttered. No noises came from his mouth for a second as y/n felt his warm seed coat her walls.

“Yes! Yes, daddy, yes!” Y/n cried out with happiness before she buried her face into the crook of his neck, sucking into his skin hard. That pulled all of his groans and moans out.

Logan’s hands wrapped around the girl's back and waist, pulling her into his body as she grinned against his pelvis, letting her swollen bud feel all the affection it needed.

“Please, more, Logan. Please. Please,” y/n continued rubbing against him as her whole body felt numb. She was going to cum, and Logan knew it. Damn her.

“Fuck, kid — F-Fuck,” Logan’s legs kicked as he tried keeping himself in, but he couldn’t. She squeezed him so hard for him not to do what she’d been begging for, for the longest.

“Y/n,” Logan’s voice cracked as his nails broke the skin on the young girl's back and waist. “Yes, yes!” Y/n almost cried as her body kicked up and she came, sucking the man too hard. To damn hard.

Logan’s mouth parted once again as his eyes crossed, feeling too much pleasure as he spilled into y/n for the second time and took the love bites y/n gave him on his neck.

Logan was pissed. He was so damn pissed at y/n for not listening to him. He wanted to punish her, but how? How could he after he bred her? He wouldn’t be able to pull out. And fuck a condom. He was fucked. He broke the promise he kept to himself. He really fucking loves her to let her do this to him.

“You’re so fuckin’ bad, y/n,” Logan breathed out into y/n’s ear, alarming her. He wasn’t relaxed. He was angry. “You like gettin’ what you want?” The man asked as he slowly lifted y/n off of him. She was being held in the air.

“Then ima give you what you fucking want,” before y/n knew what he meant, the man flipped the two, allowing him to hover over her.

“S-Sorry, I just- I really needed you. I-I love you so much, and I-I — I want you to give me a baby. I-If you don’t want it, I-I’ll just take the plan b tomorrow. I promise,” y/n couldn’t stop stuttering.

She felt a slight fear. She knew how Logan got, and now that he’d already come in her, he’d be worse.

“Fuck that plan b. You wanna baby? Then deal with the fucking consequences,” Logan turned y/n around and forced her onto her hands and knees. Before she could process anything, he plunged into her.

“Fuuck!” Y/n screamed at the new angle and the hard thrust. “Shut the fuck up, and take it,” the man groaned as a hand came down on her ass. “Take my fuckin’ kid, since you wasn’t em so damn bad,” he added.

Y/n cried into the sheets, thinking he couldn’t fuck her hard until his claws came out. He’d never done this before, but she knew what he was up to.

The man’s claws punched into the wall right in front of the two. He gripped tightly, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere before he pounded her into the mattress.

The young girl's neck and back belt pain. He was breaking her and didn’t care. She wanted this.

“Lot,” y/n whined, not being able to say what she had to say. She was beyond fucked. “Don’t worry, Bub — You’re gonna make a damn good mom,” Logan said, making sure she knew he was up for this.

Y/n slightly smiled as her cunt quivered, finally letting out another orgasm as her eyes closed. “S-So good,” she said as she slipped away. “I know, baby — I know,” the man growled.

Logan never stopped his thrust, making sure she’d feel the soreness when she woke up. And the loads he was going to leave in her.

[obitos-whore]

https://www.tumblr.com/obitos-whore/748760592303718400/how-the-naruto-men-react-to-their-crush-kissing?source=share

This is awesome, can we have more? Not only more, but I mean *much more*

Hey there nonnie. I assume with *much more* you mean some spicy stuff, right? If not, just send another request and I'll see what I can do.

Anyway, enjoy some Naruto men going down on you.

(Kakashi, Obito, Itachi, Shisui, Gaara, Kankuro, Madara, Sasuke)

18+, Minors do NOT interact

────────────────────────────────────

Kakashi

When it comes to going down on you, Kakashi is a downright menace and will do absolutely everything in his power to make sure you'll think of him for days to come

To ensure he has the element of surprise on his side and you don't see what's coming your way, Kakashi will blindfold you and tie your wrists to the headrest of your bed. He can't risk you peeking after all. Besides, there's something so incredibly hot and beautiful about seeing you so helpless and having you at his mercy

Will absolutely take advantage of your vulnerability and take his sweet time bringing you close to the edge, only to deny you the sweet release that's boiling inside just as you are about to burst

Chuckles at the myriad of curses you throw at him for being a dickhead and not letting you fucking cum

But when he does, boy oh boy, does make 'up' for his cruel teasing and make you cum several times in a row, each orgasm more intense than the previous one, ending with you as an overly sensitive mess unable to form a coherent thought, and a very happy and satisfied Kakashi

Obito

Obito is downright addicted to the taste of you. If he could, he'd spend hours between your legs and pleasure you. And sometimes he even does.

He's very vocal during it, showering you in praises and letting out satisfied moans as he pleases you with his mouth

Depending on his mood, he'll either be incredibly sweet and tender, or downright cruel and edge you for hours on end. He'd make you beg and squirm desperately, even going as far as to restrain you with some nice ropes and let his possessive side come through and mark you everywhere, before he even considers giving you what you've been begging for since the beginning

Tends to get carried away rather quickly and becomes quite sloppy during it with saliva coating his chin after being away on a mission for quite some time. Must be the withdrawal symptoms

Would definitely not mind waking you up with his mouth on you every morning

Itachi

Itachi likes to take his time with you and slowly get you worked up by kissing along the insides of your thighs and making his way up to your center inch by inch

Once he gets to it, his ministrations are gentle and sensual, flattening his tongue to give you slow strokes and suckling on the very sensitive parts of your sex

If you squirm too much, he will hold you in place and 'punish' you by going even slower, enjoying the sight of your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hands gripping the sheets or his hair as you let out squeals and moans of pure ecstasy

Praise. Praise. Praise. This man has studied the book of praises and will stop at absolutely nothing to make you feel like royalty, both physical and verbal, while looking up at you with the most pussy dripping and dick hardening gaze that's humanly possible

Once Itachi is done with you, your legs will be shaking for hours. And the mere thought of having him between your legs again will be enough to make you all hot and bothered

Shisui

Just like Obito, Shisui is completely and utterly addicted to you. He just can't keep his hands off of you, much less his mouth

Aside from your incredible taste and the delightful sounds that escape your pretty lips, it's also a way for him to relieve his pent up stress. Being a shinobi of his calibre does come with a huge amount of it after all

Shisui, being the playful little tease he is, will have you beg for him to finally let you cum, while the tip of his tongue playfully dances around your most sensitive spots. Always bringing you so close to the edge before withdrawing just in time to deny you that sweet release and leave you whining in frustration and need

He's also rather shameless and would love for everyone to hear you scream his name, so that they know who's making you see stars at the training grounds during the day. It's like a badge of honour for him

Sometimes he gets so into it, that he subconsciously activates his sharingan and stares at you with a look of pure hunger. Like a predator ready to strike its prey

Gaara

Gaara is the definition of attentive and gentle. He loves hearing you moan his name as he uses his mouth and hands to bring you to heaven.

He's completely devoting himself to your pleasure and will always hold one of your hands, because he's a sweetheart and just craves the physical touch on top of the shared sexual intimacy

Will shower you with compliments and gently coo your name as he watches your face contort in pleasure and feel your body squirm underneath him

Gaara could never deny you anything, you're like his personal deity. However, he's more than willing to comply with your wishes and play a bit more dirty if that's what you're into

To Gaara, giving oral isn't just a way to pleasure one's needs and desires. To him, it's a way to show his deep love and devotion for his partner. It's like an art that demands the finest of skills. And your responses and reactions are the highest of praises one can receive

Kankuro

Kankuro is not only a cocky and smug bastard with a witty tongue and a master of puppeteering. He also knows how to use that mouth and fingers expertly in the bedroom and make you scream his name for the entire village to hear

Knowing that he can make you feel so good only boosts his already big ego and will make him even more eager to have his way with you

He will use his chakra strings to keep your hands tied and your legs nicely spread and open for him to feast upon you to his heart's content. And may Jashin have mercy on you when he's been deprived of it for too long

Of course, given that he can be quite the prick, he won't give you what you want so easily and make you beg for it, relishing in the frustration and neediness that resonates in your tone

"You good, sugar?" He would ask you with feigned innocence between harsh sucks and light bites, plastering your inner thighs with his marks while you are teetering on the edge of heaven and hell

Madara

Madara isn't a man who takes orders from anyone. Not even his little darling. However, if you ask him very, very nicely, he might relent and give you what you desire. But it comes with a price of course

Once he starts giving you what you asked for, there's no turning back. His mouth and hands are constantly on you, possessively touching every inch of skin while enjoying the way your vocal cords sing his name, your squirming body firmly pinned to whatever surface you're on

Madara takes great pleasure in taunting you when you ask for a break because you've come three times already and are overstimulated beyond comprehension

"What's wrong, darling? Tired already? Here, let me help you."

On top of stimulating you until your knees are practically jello, he'll also fuck you senseless afterwards. To remind you that you either play by his rules or not at all

Sasuke

Sasuke is incredibly mean about you wanting him down there, teasing and taunting you about being so needy and will only give in so you stop whining like a 'bitch in heat'. He acts like he's annoyed, but in reality he's totally down for it

He's more on the rougher side of things and will make you whimper and writhe in total ecstasy and desperation as he selfishly takes what you so generously offer

During it, he'll possessively cover your body in bite marks and hickeys and tell you how pathetic you are and how he is the only one who can and will pleasure you

And since he's so nice, he'll go all out on you until he says he's done you're completely satisfied

Of course his 'services' don't come for free and so he will demand some sort of repayment. Whether it's him fucking you, or you giving him a blow job doesn't really matter to him in that moment

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

(Dark!) BNHA: Toxic Relationship

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

Boys -> Hawks + Bakugo + Dabi + Deku

Reaction: Moments from your toxic relationship with your Pro-Hero boyfriend.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; Abuse; Manipulation; Non-con.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Let me know if you like this reaction format or what 🙂

–

Hawks

“Y/n is a real clutz, y’know. Can’t even walk on even ground without tripping over her own feet.”

Your cheeks flame with humiliation as the camera pans to the crowd that laughs heartily at the demeaning words, as if Keigo had dropped the funniest joke they’ve ever heard. 

“That’s adorable.” the woman laughs, “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she has no quirk? I believe you said she is quirkless, right?”

Keigo chuckles, nodding as he crosses an ankle over his knee.

“She sure is. Can’t even imagine what type of quirk she’d have, she’s just not the type.”

Your hand grips the remote tighter. What does he mean by that? Does he think you’re not good enough to have a quirk?

You consider turning off the TV, but fortunately the interviewer changes the subject. They casually speak about the current stance of heroes and their struggles on fighting off criminals and villains.

Keigo is charming as usual, delivering answers that are a perfect portrait of responsibility with a sprinkle of humor. He’s good like that, even though his previous answers left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Somehow, they end up reaching the topic of hobbies and free time. 

“Going Pro Hero leaves little time for myself, so sadly I don’t really have much time for hobbies. Wish I had.” he says humbly. “My girlfriend has lots of them, though.”

You inhale sharply. Not again. 

For your misfortune, the woman gets interested.

Perhaps because it’s an exclusive interview and her network channel gave her orders to squeeze every drop of information they can get on Hawks’ personal life. 

“What type of hobbies? She looks like she’s a great cook.” she tries to guess, but Keigo bursts laughing, holding his belly in an exaggerated mannerism. 

“Nah, cooking isn’t really her department. Burned eggs and half-cooked pancakes are more her style. She doesn’t even-”

You change channels in a heartbeat, bursting in tears at the low insults.

You’re not that bad. Sure, you’re not amazing at cooking, but never once did Keigo complain when he eats the food you diligently make after he returns from patrols. 

And now he slanders you on national television? 

And the worst part? It’s not even the first time he’s done this. 

Dabi

“There’s nothing to eat in the fridge.” 

“There is.” 

“There isn’t.” 

You stop writing your notes, swallowing back an annoyed sigh, already aware of what was happening.

“There is food in the fridge.” you repeat, “You just have to cook it.”

Dabi looks at you, unimpressed. 

“No shit Sherlock. Maybe you can do it for me.” 

“You serious?” 

Meeting his arrogant smirk, you huff. 

“Dead serious, babe. Not like you’re busy anyways.”

Your mouth drops at his audacity and you open your arms to indicate the mess of books, papers and pens in front of you. 

“I’m studying, Dabi. Can’t you see that? Grow up and cook for yourself, yeah?” you snap your attention back to your books, but your mood has already turned sour. 

You pretend to scribble down a few words when Dabi walks to you slowly. He peeks into your annotations, snorting. 

“That handwriting is kinda shitty.” he mocks you. “Besides, what exactly are you even studying for? You’re not exactly cut out to be a doctor, y’know? Not enough brain cells in you to become that.” 

You glare at him, angrily swatting away the hand that condescendingly tries to pet your hair. 

“You’re such an asshole, Dabi. Maybe if your life revolved around something other than your stupid daddy’s issues, you would actually get a job. Not like Endeavour is worried sick about you, not when he’s got Shoto.” you spit the words venously.

Not the nicest words, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to bother. 

A dark shade crosses Dabi’s face, his amused expression turning colder. You’d be lying if the sight didn’t ignite some fear in you.

“Is that so?” his crooked smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “And why would I need a job - or Endeavour, by that matter - when I have you?”

His hand reaches for your shoulder and there’s an edge in his eyes that immobilizes you. You shouldn’t have mentioned Endeavour. 

“I’m not with you because of that bitchy attitude, you know. I like my girl to know who’s in charge. Respect is really important in a relationship and your behavior is making me really upset, baby.” his tone is scaringly soft, and his hand travels to your neck.

You hold your breath when the staples on his hand scratch against the delicate skin of your throat. “So, if you need me to remind you of your place, I’ll gladly help you with that.”

His fingers heat up at a low temperature, not enough to actually burn you but it doesn’t stop the lonely tear that slides from your eye, the only sign of the chilling terror you’re feeling.

He leans forward, kissing your forehead before sliding his hand away. 

“Are we understood?” 

The nod you give him is shaky at best, but Dabi smiles nonetheless. 

“Now, how about that food you’re gonna make me?”

Bakugo

“I have to wake up early tomorrow.”

Besides a low hum, Bakugo doesn’t acknowledge you much, too busy French kissing your neck.

His hands head for your ass, provoking a wince in you when he gropes it with unnecessary strength, your left ass cheek being kneaded like it’s dough.

Katsuki uses his grip on your ass to push your hips forward even as you complain again. The thin fabric of his sweatpants does nothing to hide the hardness that shamelessly rubs against your thigh. 

“Katsuki.” 

Once again he gives no sign of hearing you, rolling his hips with more urgency and you barely catch the tired groan that almost rolls away from you.

The clock on your side reminds you that despite the early hour, you’ll only have 6 hours to sleep. 

You really have to sleep and if you’re being honest, tonight you’re not feeling sexy or horny enough to sleep with your boyfriend. 

But that doesn’t make you feel any less awkward when Bakugo’s movements turn more vigorous and needy, humping your naked thigh as if he’s fucking it while you remain as alive as a statue. 

“Fuck, this isn’t enough.” he growls against your skin, and your heart skips a beat when his hands reach for your shorts, tugging them down halfway until you panickedly grab his wrist, wiggling your body away from his.

“Seriously, Kats, I’m not in the mood tonight.” you say, quickly pulling back your shorts. 

“You fuckin’ serious right now?” he growls through gritted teeth, still hovering above you. 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you timidly nod. 

“Maybe we can do this tomorrow? It’s just that-”

“Yeah, whatever. Not like you haven’t used that stupid excuse on me before.”  

Your eyebrows raise with surprise at the bitter tone on his voice as he gruffs, pushing himself off you. 

“I’m not making up excuses.”

“The hell you aren’t.” he looks at you, angry. “Every time I try to start something, you turn into a damn nun. Always too freakin’ tired,  too busy or not in the mood.”

He scowls, spiky blonde hair falling to his eyes. 

“All you have to do is open your goddamn legs and let me do the rest, and you can’t even do that.”

His words hit a sore spot and he turns his back on you, settling on the distant side of the bed after delivering strained punches to the pillow to soften it up.

“Maybe I go after those Dynamite's groupies that are always throwing themselves at me. Since you never want to fuck anymore.”

You’re left too stunned to speak, sadness blossoming at the cruel meaning of his words and it’s a struggle to swallow the tears. 

He wouldn’t really, would he? But your mind lingers on the disturbing thought. He’s popular with girls, even with his angry mood.

Bakugo is tall, muscular and not even the ever present scowl in his face is able to contradict the attractive facial features he’s been blessed with. Meanwhile you’re just mediocre, if even that...

Your insecurities strike back, taunting you. 

Your hand reaches for his arm before you even realize it, and you’re mildly surprised when he doesn’t shake you off. 

“The hell you want now?”

Pulling on his arm until he finally turns to the side, you kiss him. 

He groans against your lips, allowing your hand to rest on the warm plane of his chest and you let it slide lower until it touches his clothed member. 

Neither of you speak a word, but you feel Bakugo smirking against your lips while he practically shoves your shorts down. 

You allow yourself go limp underneath him, letting your boyfriend fuck you in the way he wants to. Holding back a tired sigh when the fluorescent numbers on the clock mock you. 

You really have to wake up early.

Deku

“Are you serious, Izuku?” 

The tall hero jumps, eyes widening almost comically when he realizes you’re standing on the bedroom’s doorway and not cleaning the kitchen, like he clearly assumed you to be. 

“I wasn’t- The phone-” he stammers with his words, plowing your phone onto the bed with a bit too much force.

Crossing your arms, you flash him a frustrated glare.

“You promised me you wouldn’t spy on my phone anymore, Izuku.” your stern tone has him frowning and Izuku practically sprints closer to you.

“I wasn’t spying! I was just- just checking the time.” his words aren’t convincing enough for you to actually believe in him. 

You squint your eyes at him, dodging his grabby hands with a nasty slap, despite the hurt expression on his face.

“Izuku.” 

“I wasn’t! C’mon, you gotta believe in me.” 

You don’t. 

“Even if I did go through your phone - which I didn’t - why would that be such a problem?” he complains, dragging his voice. “Do you have something to hide or what?”

You point a warning finger at him.

“Don’t you dare. This isn’t about me. You’re the one who went behind my back because you’re just too insecure to fully trust me.”

He shakes his head, emerald eyes turning feverish. 

“You’re being dramatic, of course I trust you.”

“You don’t, stop lying.”

“I do trust you!” his voice rises in volume.

“No, you don’t!” you scream, voice breaking before you crumble in tears. 

You’re exhausted. Of arguing, of dealing with Izuku, of everything. When did things turn so frustrating, so tiring? Why does he always have to ruin things for you?

Izuku curses under his breath before rushing to you, engulfing you in a comforting embrace as you cry on his chest. 

“You don’t. You never will and I know that.” he stays silent, not contradicting you this time. 

He lets you cry on his chest, his hand gently caressing your hair as he mutters apologies. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” Izuku hugs you harder, arms tightening around you. “I’ll do better, okay? I promise, I will.” 

And like a fool, you accept his promise - even if you know it’s meant to be broken.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

i need more of that Shameless toji fic, god please

i'm SICK 😭😭😭

Shameless Mini Drabble

Tags: dilf!Toji x fem!Reader, reader is pregnant, breeding kink, daddy kink, size kink, all the kinks idk, smut, nsfw, mdni

An: Hi! A lot of people requested a part two of the Shameless fic I posted not too long ago. I actually never intended on continuing that story because I figured no one would really like the ending lol (everyone seems to hate the pregnancy trope at the end), but I’m not opposed to writing one-offs with those characters.

“Mmmn~ So pretty, mama.” Toji’s voice quietly rasps out after he unlatches from your nipple. He’s been excessively attached to you recently, and you have a sneaking suspicion it’s because you’re starting to show.

Your belly is starting to take shape, and you have a small little bump. Pants were starting not to fit you anymore, and you have noticed a lot more new symptoms as well.

Achy breasts are one of them.

“Toji… please, it hurts..” You softly whimper as you roll your head to the other side of the pillow. He’s been going at this for at least an hour: gently torturing you with his mouth.

“I know it does.” He purrs lowly before lapping his tongue over the small bud of nerves again, causing for you to shudder. “It’ll start feeling good soon. Just trust me.”

His mouth gently clasps back over your nipple, and his eyes flutter shut. His hand is mindlessly toying with the other one — making sure it doesn’t “feel left out”.

Your nose scrunches at the odd feeling. Your breasts were so sore these days it was torture having to put on a bra (Toji definitely advocated for you not to wear one anymore), but right now the pain was tolerable while he was stimulating you.

Your back subtly arches off the bed as a small hum emits from your mouth. You’re starting to feel a different sort of ache between your thighs. You press your legs together, trying to cope with the feeling of your panties growing damp.

Toji slowly pulls away and smirks up at you. “Told you that you’d start feeling good soon.” He teases with almost a smoldering look in his eye.

“Shut up.” You mutter out as you look away from him, feeling embarrassed that it was so easy for him to get you in the mood.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t you get an attitude with me because your pussy likes me so much.” Toji continues on with his teasing, and his fingertips just barely brush against your core, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

With a small chuckle, Toji pulls off your sleeping pants and panties. “Oh, poor thing.” He muses as he gazes between your thighs.

You quickly cross your legs with a huff. “Don’t say those things while you look down there!” You whine with a pout. You loved how vocal Toji could be in bed, but sometimes, it made you feel all shy and embarrassed.

He rolls his eyes and places his hands on his knees before he forces your legs apart. “Don’t try to hide ‘er from me.” He chastises as he leans down between your legs, pressing a soft kiss at the very top of your core. He can almost smell your arousal like a damn dog, and his mouth starts to literally water from the promise of your cunt.

“She’s cryin’ for me.” He drawls lazily as he licks a stripe between your glistening folds. “Mmm, she wants to be bred so badly, yet she doesn’t know I’ve already done that.”

Your hands fist at the sheets as he teases you. Your body is restless, moving around to try to feel something. The under stimulation was going to kill you. “Toji, please.” You whine to him, trying to make him speed things along.

Toji’s pretty green eyes look up at you as he laps at you again. His dick throbs in his pants as he realizes your getting desperate. “What is it, pretty mama?” He doesn’t break eye contact as he goes in for another lick.

Your body shudders as you hold his gaze pathetically. He’s so fucking good at driving you up a wall. He literally fucked you this morning, and you’re already so pent up again. “More — please, I.. I need more.” You beg to him.

His tongue immediately swirls around your clit in tight circles, causing for you to hiccup and gasp. Your juices are practically flooding his chin. “Greedy pussy.” He mutters lowly before giving the small bundle of nerves a gentle suckle. “Always so desperate to be bred by my cock.”

After another torturously slow lick, Toji gently places his thumb against your clit, and he rubs in small circles. His eyes are fixated on the way your cunt clenches around nothing. Your body is practically begging to be filled by him!

“You know, most animals don’t fuck while pregnant. Biologically, there’s no point to it. Maybe I should wait until you pop my brat out before I fuck you.” He suggests with a small smirk.

“W-what-?” You immediately ask in a pouty tone. Realistically, you know Toji’s just bluffing, but you’re in such a vulnerable state that you immediately try to dispel his claims. You know, so he’ll fuck you. “That’s.. mmnf~.. that’s not true, Toji… Cats can have a litters from - hah! .. multiple dads. That means they fuck while pregnant.”

“What are you suggesting, slut?” His voice drops to a dangerously low warning tone, and he adds pressure to your clit. “You tryin’ to get fucked by another dad?”

“No-!” You immediately cry out as you feel his thumb bringing you dangerously close to the edge. He’s so mean when he gets jealous. He gathers spit into his mouth before he expels a glob of his saliva onto your pretty cunt. The sticky wet sounds only grow in volume as he continued to rub. “I only w-want you, daddy.”

Toji grits his teeth upon hearing you profess your want to him. His dick is painfully hard as he’s been carefully grinding himself into the mattress while he was eating you out. He wants to feel you so bad; his dick is practically pulsing your name in morse code.

“Atta girl.” He grunts as he removes his hand. You immediately start to whine and protest since you were so close. His hands push down his boxers, and his cock immediately springs upwards from the confines of his clothes. His tip was an angry shade of red from neglect, and there was a small pearl of pre-cum gathered on his slit.

“Let’s see if you’re still stretched from this morning, eh?” He muses as he gathers your legs, and he places them on his shoulders. He doesn’t put you in a full mating press out of fear of making you feel uncomfortable with your bump, but he keeps your body at a 90 degree angle.

He holds your gaze as he presses his cock against your entrance. He’s slow to push himself in, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from busting inside you prematurely. Your cunt is just so fucking warm, and you’re practically gushing around him.

The ring of muscle makes a sort of ‘pop’ feeling as his tip bullies its way inside of you. “Fuuuuck, mama..” He groans as his hands grip onto your thighs tightly. “Feels so fuckin’ good.”

He pushes himself in until he’s buried to the hilt. Your gummy walls pulses around him as feeling so full pushes you right over the edge. Your head tilts back with a loud moan.

“Did you just cum from me puttin’ it in-?” He asks as he eyes you closely. A dangerous chuckle escapes him. “I’m gonna mmf- fuckin’ marry you one day, doll.” He professes as his hips go to work, pounding himself into you.

Your eyes cross as you’re completely blissed out — already so ruined, and Toji’s only just started on his fun. He grabs at your thighs and pulls you into him with harsh thrusts. His broad chest is barely covered by your legs as you’re just a little thing compared to him.

Toji groans as your pussy is squelching around him with each thrust. He can’t decide if he wants to look at your pretty cunt taking him so well or your face as he makes you take his fat cock while you’re so sensitive. Your little fucked out face is quite literally a masterpiece to him.

“Mmnn~ daddy-! Ah..” You’re a babbling mess, calling him by his government name and by your little nickname for him.

“Feels good, don’t it?” He asks as his reaches down and starts to rub tight circles on your clit.

“Y-yes!” You hiss as your back arches off the bed. Your thighs are already trembling, and your slick pools on the sheets below you, creating quite the mess.

“Shh, shh.. don’t wake that brat up, you hear?” He warns. Little Megumi has only recently started sleeping the whole night in his own room, and Toji has been taking full advantage of that. Normally you two will sneak off for quickies in the bathroom or laundry room, but now, he’s keen on taking you in the middle of the night and waking you up with your cunt full of his cum.

“Hah~ ah..” You pant as your hips start to flutter upwards to meet his with each thrust.

“Dirty fucking girl.” He muses as he watches you try to fuck yourself on his cock. He adores when you get so desperate like this, like a little fucktoy who can’t help themselves. “Just need to be bred, huh?”

“Ngh.. please Toji..”

“Nuh uh. Ask me properly, doll.”

“Please breed me, d-daddy!”

Toji leans in a bit, almost forcing your body into a mating press. His hips slam into yours; his tip kissing strings of pre-cum onto your cervix. He becomes so animalistic when he’s close like this. “Yeah? Again? Want daddy to breed you again?” He growls lowly as he continues to stuff you full of his cock.

Fat overstimulated tears slip down your cheeks as you spasm around him once again. Toji’s hand reaches up and grabs a fistful of your hair, jerking you to look up at him before he forces his lips onto yours.

His cock then pulses inside of you, shooting rope after rope of warm cum deep inside your core. It seems like he never runs out. As if his body has to keep up with his almost breeding kink.

His rough hungry kiss slowly calms as he empties himself into you. He gently helps your legs off of his shoulders, and his kisses turn tender and loving. Post-nut clarity hit, and he remembers that you’re his pregnant girlfriend. He’s almost angry with himself for being so rough sometimes.

“Did so good, doll. You hurtin’ anywhere?” He asks between soft kisses.

“No… I think I’m okay… just sore.”

In between his wet loving kisses, a knock on your bedroom door could be heard. “Mama.. papa..” A small voice sniffles from the other side with another small knock. Poor Megumi had a nightmare… something about papa making mama scream? Weird.

Tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @theuniversesnepobaby @gojosburger @sparkling-obsidian @thatonehotguy15 @honey-teaaaaaaaa @saucypeanuttt @3llawrit3s @viecyi @fancyzombiepuppy @missthatgirl @desscries @alaida777 @kuro-chi69

[just-aake]

Detecting Love

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: A person with the power to detect lies meets the spy who has been trained to lie her entire life.

Warnings: fluff, light angst

Words: 6169

You have the power to detect lies. 

Now, it’s not exactly strong enough to be a hero, but you can honestly say that it has been useful in your life. 

Sure, it gets annoying at times, but one of the many lessons you’ve learned is to ignore minor instances of dishonesty — white lies or small things like that — since it helps reduce unnecessary confusion or chaos with others.

People lie. That is an undeniable fact of life.

And while one may believe that being able to detect such things is great, the truth is there are times when you find yourself resenting your power. 

Because, of course, everyone experiences moments when they wish that someone important to them isn't lying.

Like when your fiancée tells you she loves you.

There wasn’t really a malicious reason behind why a usually affectionate statement suddenly became so hurtful.

There was no cheating.

There was no fighting.

It was just another one of the many lessons you’ve learned in life.

That sometimes…a truth can also become a lie.

It’s just unfortunate that this lesson happened to you in such a way.

These kinds of moments make you wonder if maybe it’s better that people shouldn’t always know when someone is lying to them.

Then they don’t end up alone, drinking at a bar late into the night, trying to numb the pain of a broken heart.

You let out a heavy sigh as you stare at the pair of rings resting on the bar top, remembering the conversation that ended with one of them being returned to you. 

It was a heart-wrenching discussion where your fiancée confessed her steadily changed feelings for you, leading to the resolution to remain friends. 

And while neither of you is completely at fault for why things ended, you can’t help but blame your stupid power for putting you in the situation in the first place. 

You sigh heavily once more before swiftly downing the glass the bartender had set in front of you.

At least your current attempt to drown your sorrow is going well, judging by how the rings start to blur in your vision.

With a sad sigh, you reach for the rings to put them away, but in your clumsy state, one slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor.

Just as you move to retrieve it, a hand beats you to it. 

Looking up, you find a red-haired stranger standing before you, offering the ring to you with a charming smile.

She looks familiar but the drunken haze in your brain makes it hard for you to remember where you’ve seen her before.

“Here, you dropped this,” she says, her voice low and smooth.

She’s beautiful and her voice sounds perfect. You think to yourself as you take the ring from her.

She chuckles lightly, “Thanks.”

Oh, did you say that out loud? You must be more drunk than you thought.

The woman offers her hand to you in greeting, and with a confident smirk, she introduces herself.

“My name’s Natalie. Natalie Rushman.”

Immediately, a red aura surrounds her, causing you to roll your eyes and return your attention back to the bar. 

“Liar,” you mutter tiredly as you gesture to the bartender to close your tab, not really in the mood to deal with any more lies tonight.

At the corner of your eyes, you see the stranger give you a slightly impressed look.

Ready to leave, you stand up quickly from your seat.

However, the action makes the room suddenly spin in your vision, causing you to stagger backward. 

A hand steadies you, resting gently on your back, and you unconsciously lean back against her surprisingly strong frame for support.

There’s a soft chuckle near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Let me try again,” she whispers smoothly, guiding you upright and turning you around to face her.

Offering her hand once more, she reintroduces herself.

“My name’s Natasha Romanoff. I’m here to recruit you to work for the Avengers.”

You blink slowly, trying to comprehend her words through your drunken haze. You wonder if the alcohol is affecting you more than you thought when no red aura appears this time at her words.

Chuckling to yourself, you shake your head in disbelief, unfortunately worsening the pounding in your skull. 

Work for the Avengers? That has to be a lie.

Before you can think about it any further, you feel yourself falling once more, unable to remain upright.

Strong arms catch you, and as your consciousness fades, you see a blurry glimpse of her striking green eyes before succumbing to darkness.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

You wake to the pounding in your head and the bright sunlight streaming through your window. Turning away, you groan into your pillow, remembering that your fiancée – your ex-fiancée – would typically close the curtains before leaving for work.

Now that she’s gone, you’re going to have to adjust to living alone once again.

A cup being placed on the nightstand startles you into sitting up, as you turn in surprise to find the beautiful red-haired stranger beside your bed.

“For your headache,” she explains, placing some medicine next to the cup.

Your mouth hangs open as you struggle to remember the events of last night, some of which are honestly a blur. 

You examine yourself, checking your clothes and finding them unchanged from the previous night, and then you scan your surroundings again and realize in relief that nothing was out of place.

Well, except for the presence of this stranger in your home, who’s patiently waiting for you to gather yourself.

Searching through your drunken memories, you think you vaguely remember meeting her last night. She had mentioned her name was — Nata…? 

“Natalie?” you ask with uncertainty.

At her raised brow, you quickly apologize, feeling bad for not remembering correctly.

“I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember, but did we…did something happen between us last night?” you ask hesitantly.

Her face twists in genuine sadness and disappointment, causing a panic to run through you as you struggle to recall what could’ve possibly happened between the two of you for her to have such an expression.

“I’m hurt,” she finally says, placing a hand on her chest, “And after you even said that it was the best night of your life.”

Seeing the familiar red aura appear around her at her words, you let out a brief sigh of relief before realization sets in, and you give her a hard glare.

“You’re lying.”

Her hurt expression quickly morphs into an impressed look, and you are slightly startled at how effortlessly she was able to shift her emotions. 

The woman straightens her posture and crosses her arms, adopting a commanding stance that seems more likely her typical demeanor.

“So it’s not just luck,” she remarks, studying you curiously. 

At her words, you quickly rise from your bed in confusion.

However, the action causes you to wince in pain at the pounding in your head. 

Shutting your eyes tightly, you hold your head in comfort and lean lightly on the nightstand for support. 

As you do, your hand brushes against yesterday’s newspaper that you had been reading moments before your ex said those fateful three words that led to the heartbreaking conversation between the two of you. 

When the pain subsides, you slowly open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the front page before doing a double take.

The front features an article about the opening of the new Avenger Compound, including a photo capturing the Avenger members posed in front of the completed building. 

What catches you off guard is the uncanny resemblance between one of the Avengers in the picture and the woman standing before you.

Pointing at her in disbelief, you stammer.

“You’re…,” then, gesturing at the newspaper, you continue, “…her?”

She doesn’t respond to your question but instead nods toward your other room, inviting you to follow.

“Let’s talk,” she says, heading toward your door, then gestures at the medicine on your nightstand. “But drink those first.”

After freshening up in your bathroom, you take a moment to stare at your reflection in the mirror, noticing the remnants of last night’s tears in your slightly puffy, red eyes. 

Sighing, you brush away the depressing thoughts of your failed relationship before taking the medicine and exiting your room.

You are greeted by the sight of your unexpected guest comfortably seated at your kitchen counter, flipping through a magazine with casual disinterest.

“You’re Black Widow,” you say confidently this time, positioning yourself on the opposite side of her.

She closes the magazine with a snap, placing it on the table before clasping her hands atop of it and meeting your gaze.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects you, before nodding at you. “And you’re Y/n L/n.”

“How did you…?”

She holds up a wedding invitation draft, displaying you and your fiancée’s names printed in fine lettering. 

Realizing that she must have been snooping around your things, you give her a disapproving glare, snatching the card from her hand and hastily stuffing it into a drawer.

Feeling a mixture of emotions—irritated, sad, hungover—you turn to the fridge, deciding to make breakfast to give yourself some focus. 

After you retrieve the eggs and other ingredients, you heat the stove before glancing at Natasha briefly, asking, “So, what does an Avenger want from me?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see her resting her head against her hand, watching you with interest.

“I told you yesterday,” she replies.

You roll your eyes, giving her a deadpan look, knowing she’s aware that you don’t remember.

“Remind me again.”

Natasha gives you an amused smirk, straightening up in her seat. 

“Alright, I’m here to recruit you, more specifically for a sort of managerial position at the new Avenger Compound.”

Furrowing your brows, you question, “Why me? I don't have experience with that sort of thing.”

“But you can tell when someone is lying, can’t you?”

Pausing briefly in your cooking, you contemplate her words and its possible implications. Not many people know about your ability, and you don’t think you did anything to reveal it to the spy who’s currently staring expectantly at you.

So, in response, you shrug, replying as casually as possible. 

“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people…psychology degree and all.”

A silence ensues, broken only by the sizzling of your cooking, until Natasha finally nods, seemingly accepting your explanation.

You breathe a silent sigh of relief, returning your attention to your current task.

But then she pulls out a folder filled with documents and places it on the counter, causing your nerves to rise again.

“Well, you’ve helped solve hundreds of cases with your interviews of the suspects,” she remarks casually, flipping through the folder before glancing up at you through her lashes. 

“100% accuracy rate in the information that you provided to the detectives,” she continues, nodding at you in acknowledgment. “For a part-time profiler, that’s impressive.”

“Thanks,” you respond with a polite smile, but beneath the surface, a hint of suspicion creeps in as you begin plating the meal you made.

Natasha closes the folder with a definitive snap, making you look at her. 

“You could say it’s almost impossible,” she muses, before a confident smirk forms on her face, and she tilts her head at you with a raised brow in challenge. 

“Unless there’s some way you can guarantee that they’re telling the truth.”

Honestly, you should’ve known better than to think that the experienced spy hadn’t already completed thorough research and investigations into you and your powers before meeting with you.

If anything, this was likely just a test for her to confirm what she already knows about your abilities.

Sliding a plate across the counter to Natasha with a pointed glare, you relent, deciding there’s no point in denying it anymore.

“Fine, what do you know?” 

Instead of responding, Natasha’s gaze lingers on the plate before her, a hint of confusion in her expression. 

Her plate holds a fluffy omelette accompanied by a side of crispy bacon and a slice of golden-brown toasted bread.

As she glances back up at you with a questioning look in her eyes, you take a seat across from her, setting down a similar plate in front of you before also placing a stack of fluffy pancakes at the center.

“What’s this?” she asks, gesturing to the meal.

“Breakfast,” you reply bluntly, taking a bite from your plate.

Natasha raises a brow at you, remarking plainly, “It’s noon.”

“Brunch then,” you correct with a roll of your eyes.

Natasha's lips quirk up in amusement, and she shakes her head.

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.” 

The red aura appears around her, and with your mouth full of food, you give her a pointed glare.

“Right,” Natasha says in realization, remembering what you can do. She pulls the plate closer to her with a soft thanks. 

The atmosphere that followed was unusual but surprisingly not awkward. Despite being practically strangers, you find yourself slightly comforted by Natasha’s presence. 

If she wasn’t here, you probably wouldn’t have dragged yourself out of bed today after what happened yesterday.

After a moment of eating, Natasha breaks the silence.

“So, how can you tell when someone’s lying?”

Pausing to contemplate your answer, you wipe your mouth with a napkin before responding. 

“Well, when someone lies, there’s always this rush of chemicals that happens in their bodies,” you explain. “It ends up causing the typical indicators — things like fidgeting, sweating, or tone changes in their voice.”

“I didn’t do any of that, yet you still knew I was lying,” Natasha points out.

“No, you're right,” you admit, nodding. “You’re a perfect liar.”

From what you have seen so far, every expression and comment of hers appears genuine and honest, and if it was anyone else, they’d probably believe anything she says.

However, thanks to your ability, you know better. 

Gesturing at her, you clarify, “You still give off the same chemical reactions though, and I have the ability to see that.”

Natasha leans back in her seat, crossing her arms as she processes your explanation.

“It’s mainly visual then,” she concludes before asking curiously. “You don’t even need to hear what they said to know that they’re lying?” 

You nod, ruefully adding, “Yep, my world’s just filled with people glowing red at random.”

“And how long does this ‘glow’ stay around them?”

“Depends,” you reply with a shrug. “Usually not long, maybe a few seconds.”

Natasha hums in interest, tapping her chin, her brows pinching lightly in thought.

You can’t help but smile amusedly at the sight. 

For a person who has such an intimidating reputation, the spy in front of you right now looks kind of cute rather than scary.

After a moment, you break the silence this time.

“So, what’s the job?” 

Natasha’s eyes focus back on you at your question.

“Nothing too complicated,” she assures. “You’ll be in charge of interviewing the new employee candidates and conducting continuous reviews of the current ones.”

“You mean like screening them?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion, already aware of the rigorous and difficult process required to work at the Avengers buildings. 

“Don’t you guys already do extensive background checks before hiring people? Why do you suddenly need me?”

At your question, a charming smile appears on her face, effortlessly shifting her expression like before, though now you understand she’s just hiding her true feelings about the situation.

“That’s confidential.”

You scoff in disbelief and cross your arms.

“You do know that just makes it harder to trust you, right?”

Natasha mirrors your posture, her pretty grin still in place, masking any other emotions.

“Fair point,” she admits. “But to be honest, you should never put your trust in people like me anyway.”

“People like you?” 

“Spies,” Natasha clarifies as she begins to gather her empty plate and utensils. “Which is one of the types of people you’d be looking out for in this position. Their deception skills would be on a similar level to mine.”

You chuckle at that, causing Natasha to pause in her actions, raising a brow at you in question.

“Sorry, but everyone lies, whether you’re a spy or not,” you tell her, standing and taking the empty plate from her with a small smirk. “You’re just slightly better at it.”

A tiny offended look slips through Natasha’s expression at your little jab, her brow furrowing for a brief second.

Your grin widens at the sight of seeing a glimpse of her real self as you turn to place the dirty dishes in the sink.

Natasha quickly regains her composure, moving around the counter to lean back against the table next to you.

“In any case, the decision is still yours. I’ve already confirmed your abilities. It’s up to you to decide if you want to accept.”

At her words, you pause to consider your options. 

A new job working with the Avengers is a great opportunity, but it would be a significant change in your life. 

Then again, you’re already facing a huge change.

Your eyes unconsciously drift to the drawer next to where Natasha is leaning, where the wedding invitation draft remains, and your face twists in sadness at the memory. 

You guess it wouldn’t hurt to add a career change alongside your new relationship status.

At least this way you can still earn a salary while also distracting yourself from the depressing thoughts of your failed engagement. 

“Okay,” you decide, meeting Natasha’s gaze with a sigh, “I’ll take the job.”

“Great, I knew you would be agreeable,” Natasha remarks, extending her hand to you.

A red aura appears around her, causing you to huff and roll your eyes.

You take her hand in yours, giving her a tiny glare.

“Liar.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

You say that as you dodge another swing from Natasha, ducking under her arm to get behind her, only for her to twist her body around and deliver a kick that you narrowly block with your arms. 

Still, the impact has you stumbling back.

“Really?” Natasha asks with an innocent tone as she circles you. “I thought I mentioned to you that training was a part of your employment.”

A red aura begins to appear around her, but you don’t have time to comment before she swings her leg at you again. 

You catch it against your side with a small grunt of pain.

Having been a profiler for criminal cases before, you do have basic defense training, and you always believed that you could hold your own against most aggressors. 

At least you used to.

This current fight is making you reconsider your skills.

With her off-balance position, you attempt to throw her to the ground, but Natasha swiftly regains her footing, catching herself on her hands and executing a fluid movement to flip upright. She then bends low, sweeping your legs out from under you.

You land on the mat with a groan, feeling the impact reverberate through your body. Another pained breath escapes you as Natasha expertly pins you down.

You catch the faint red aura fading from her before throwing your head back against the mat with an exhausted sigh.

“You’re such a liar,” you breathe out, your voice tinged with both exhaustion and playful accusation. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to catch your breath.

Natasha's laughter fills the air, resonating above you, her amusement infectious and drawing a small grin from you. You peek open your eyes, watching as she disengages from atop you and heads over to her water bottle at the side.

“I’m a spy. It comes with the job,” she says casually, taking a sip.

“Okay, and I’m basically just HR,” you counter, pulling yourself upright into a sitting position. “So how does combat training fit into that?”

Natasha gestures towards you with a sweep of her hand.

“You need to be prepared to defend yourself if you ever expose someone dangerous and find yourself without backup,” she explains.

“That’s unlikely considering I haven’t even encountered anyone suspicious since I started,” you remark with a sigh.

It's been a month already, and you're starting to question if your presence here is even necessary.

Before you can dwell further on your thoughts, the cold touch of a metal water bottle against your cheek startles you.

Recoiling, you look up to see Natasha holding it out to you.

Raising a brow, Natasha waves the bottle lightly in offer.

You snatch the bottle from her with a tiny glare, but she only smirks in response.

Apart from the new job, the other surprising addition to your life is your budding friendship with the Avenger. 

After the whole recruiting ordeal, you honestly expected to only have passing encounters with her at the compound.

However, to your surprise, on your first day here, Natasha was the one who volunteered to give you a tour of the place, and in the days that followed, the two of you would often share coffee and chat before you had to head off to your respective jobs.

Those regular interactions with her also earned you a fearsome reputation among the other workers, which actually works out in your favor since they’re already nervous by the time you call them in for a review. This way they are more likely to slip up and reveal anything they may be hiding.

But, like you said, you haven’t found anything substantial yet.

With a heavy sigh, you pull your knees to your chest, resting your forehead against them, feeling the weight of failure bearing down on you.

Then you hear Natasha plop down beside you.

“Back when we met, you asked me why we needed you,” she begins.

Curious at her words, you turn your head slightly to glance at her, waiting for her explanation.

Natasha leans back on her hands, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as she continues to speak.

“A couple of months ago, our surveillance revealed that someone within the compound staff was plotting an attack during the opening ceremony of the new building. However, we couldn’t confirm who it was without risking exposing that we knew of their plan."

Your eyes widen in confusion at the revelation. From what you remember, the opening ceremony was a success. There hadn’t been any news of an attack that day.

“But you caught them, right?” you inquire.

“No,” Natasha responds, shaking her head before meeting your gaze. “You did.”

Surprised, you straighten up, giving her a questioning look.

Natasha offers a small smile, elaborating, “You had recently interviewed him as a suspect for another case, and in your notes, you labeled him as dangerous and untrustworthy, despite everything about him proving otherwise.”

“And you believed me?” you ask incredulously.

Natasha shrugs, “Well, I had no other leads at the time anyway.”

You scoff in exasperation at her teasing, playfully pushing her away.

She chuckles softly before adopting a more serious expression.

“Trust in your abilities, Y/n,” Natasha says with a genuine tone. “If it’s you, not finding anyone suspicious is a good thing.”

You watch her closely, waiting for the red aura to appear.

But as a couple of seconds pass and nothing changes, you tuck your forehead back against your knees, this time to hide the smile threatening to spread across your face.

“Alright, break’s over,” Natasha announces, giving your back an encouraging pat. “Let’s go again.”

You groan in reluctance, remaining in your curled-up position.

“Come on,” Natasha urges, her tone coaxing. “I’ll go easy on you this time.”

You don’t even need to look up to know the red aura is surrounding her.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“What’s this?”

Natasha's voice draws your attention away from the task of pouring cooked popcorn into a bowl.

She's sitting on your sofa, examining a small, elegant card that you had accidentally left on the table.

Widening your eyes in realization of what she’s found, you hurry over to her, but her narrowed eyes tell you that she has already read the names on the card.

“She’s inviting you to her wedding?” Natasha exclaims, disbelief coloring her tone. “It’s only been a year since your breakup, and now she’s already getting married?!”

Sighing in disappointment, you had hoped to keep this information from Natasha, who developed a strong dislike for your ex after you shared the details of your breakup during one of your girls' nights.

Placing the bowl of popcorn on the table, you take the invitation from her hand and head to the kitchen, intending to tuck it away in a drawer. 

As you slide it open, you catch the sight of the old wedding draft buried at the bottom, which causes a tiny pang of sadness in your chest at the memory of that time, of how everything changed so suddenly.

You can't help but wonder how your life might have unfolded if your engagement hadn't ended.

Would you still have accepted Natasha's offer if you hadn't been seeking a distraction from your failed relationship? 

“You’re not thinking about going, are you?” Natasha's voice interrupts your thoughts. 

Glancing up, you notice a peculiar look in her eyes, though it quickly shifts to a neutral expression at your gaze.

After a whole year of spending time together, you could tell underneath her impassive expression that she was upset about something; though, you figured it was just outrage at the situation.

Tossing the invitation into the drawer and shutting it, you offer her a small reassuring smile before returning to your seat beside her to start the movie.

“No, of course not,” you tell her.

As the opening scenes play, you maintain a normal, nonchalant expression, aware of Natasha's gaze still lingering on you even as the red aura fades from around your body.

After a while, Natasha huffs in disbelief before finally settling into the sofa, pulling the bowl of popcorn into her lap.

“You better be sharing that, Romanoff,” you tease, your eyes fixed on the screen.

Natasha scoffs before tossing a piece of popcorn at you.

“Of course, I will.”

Just as you're about to turn your head to look at her and confirm her honesty, she swiftly shoves a cushion pillow to the side of your face, blocking your view.

After a few seconds, she releases it, fluffing the cushion casually before leaning her head against your shoulder and tossing another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

You chuckle at her antics, amused by her playful behavior, before returning your attention to the screen.

A few days later, you find yourself standing on the outskirts of the wedding area, observing as servers and workers hustle to complete the finishing touches.

A sad, bittersweet expression tugs at your lips as you recognize familiar details chosen by your ex, mingled with hints of a stranger’s preferences in the decorations.

To be honest, you don’t intend to stay for the wedding. You're just here to confirm something for yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, conjuring your ex’s face in your mind, and whisper to yourself. 

“I’m in love with her…”

Opening your eyes, you exhale slowly, a content smile on your lips as you notice the red aura surrounding your skin. It's a relief to be able to find closure regarding your feelings for your ex.

“You know, I don’t need powers to know you were lying,” a voice remarks from behind.

Startled, you turn to find Natasha approaching.

She stops beside you, her gaze fixed at the scene ahead as she accuses, “Saying that you weren’t going to come here.”

You look at her briefly before returning your attention to the field.

“I got curious about something,” you admit. “Figured that this was one way to confirm it.”

Excited and happy chatter fills the air as your ex appears, surrounded by friends and family.

Suddenly, thoughts of what-ifs from the other night resurface, prompting you to ask out loud unconsciously before you can stop yourself.

“Do you think I should’ve just pretended that she was telling the truth at that time — when she said she loved me?” you ask Natasha. “Maybe it might’ve worked out between us if I just kept my mouth shut.”

There’s a beat of silence before Natasha finally responds, her tone tinged with wistfulness.

“From my experience,” she begins, “I can tell you that living a lie would not make you happy…no matter how much you wish for it to be true.”

You chuckle lightly, “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I am,” Natasha says confidently.

A comfortable silence falls between you as you both observe the preparations from a distance.

“She is a fool for letting you go, though,” Natasha suddenly adds, her tone casual.

You laugh softly, gently chiding her, “You can’t call the bride that on her wedding day.”

“Alright then,” Natasha concedes, turning to you. “You’re an even bigger fool for coming here by yourself.”

She returns her gaze to the field, muttering under her breath with a hint of irritation, “…still visiting the one who broke your heart.”

Amused, you tilt your head to catch her eyes, chuckling at her words, as you tease, “You know, it almost sounds like you’re jealous.”

When Natasha doesn’t respond or look at you, you raise a brow in surprise and poke her side. 

“Wait, seriously, are you jealous?”

She swats your hand away.

“Stop that,” Natasha reprimands, before gritting out, “I’m not jealous!”

A small grin forms on your face as you notice the red aura appear, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and walk away.

“I’m leaving,” she declares firmly.

“Aww, come on, Natasha,” you call as you trail behind her.

Glancing back at you and seeing your pleased expression, she points at you in warning.

“That smile better be off your face by the time I pull up, or else you’re walking home,” she states before continuing on her way.

Watching her go with a fond smile, you find yourself softly repeating the words.

“I’m in love with her.”

Looking down, your smile widens when you don’t see the red aura appear, confirming what you already knew about your feelings for the red-haired spy.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

As you sit in your office at the Avenger compound, you feel a sense of fatigue wash over you at your busy schedule of back-to-back interviews.

Across from you, the final candidate squirms in her seat, clearly nervous under your scrutinizing gaze. 

A chill sweeps through the room, courtesy of the cold blast of air from the AC, and you can't help but regret your decision to have it set so cold, a choice originally intended to maintain an intimidating atmosphere during interviews. 

With a sigh, you reluctantly pull your hands from the cozy warmth of your hoodie pocket and turn to the next page of questions.

"Let's talk about handling confidential information," you begin, your voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Can you share a time when you had to ensure the secure handling of sensitive data?"

The candidate responds with some slight hesitation, but you sense it’s more from her nerves than any dishonesty, so you continue, moving on to the remaining questions.

Luckily, the rest of the interview goes by quickly and smoothly with her answering the other questions without any problems.

However, now comes the final question of the interview.

“Among the Avengers, who do you consider to be the hottest?”

Clearly caught off-guard, she stumbles over her words, “W-what?” 

Maintaining your serious demeanor, you repeat the question.

“Who do you believe is the hottest Avenger?”

After a moment's pause, she softly answers, “Black Widow..."

Setting your clipboard down, you extend your hand.

"Thank you for coming. It was nice meeting you," you say, signaling the end of the interview.

As she thanks you and leaves, you flip to the last paper on your clipboard, revealing a sheet with tick marks beside the names of your Avenger friends.

With an amused smile, you add another mark at the end of Natasha’s already leading line.

“I don’t think that last question was approved by Steve,” a voice accuses from the doorway.

Glancing up, you see Natasha leaning against the frame, her arms folded.

You shrug in response, “Makes it more interesting though.”

Natasha hums curiously before moving to your side, perching on the edge of your desk. Her narrowed eyes fix on you.

“Is that my hoodie?” she asks in suspicion as she tugs at your sleeve.

“Maybe,” you reply, hastily pulling the hood over your head to conceal your guilty eyes.

Natasha had left the piece of clothing at your place after her last visit, and given the chilly room, borrowing it seemed harmless enough.

“Don’t you have a briefing to get to?” you deflect, attempting to change the subject.

Natasha huffs knowingly before responding, "I had some spare time, so I came to bother you."

"I’m honored," you quip sarcastically, though inwardly your heart warmed at the fact that she thought of you.

Natasha chuckles lightly, then gestures towards your clipboard.

"Ask me some questions," she prompts, her tone playful yet eager.

Deciding to indulge her, you reach for your clipboard and adopt a serious demeanor.

“Name?” you begin.

Natasha shoots you a deadpan look, prompting you to show her the document with the question written on it.

“If they lie about their name, then that’s a red flag already,” you defend, giving her a pointed look.

“Natalie,” you mock.

Natasha chuckles, shaking her head at the memory before extending her hand.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects, playing along.

Skipping past the other general questions, you delve into more targeted inquiries related to threat assessment.

“Have you ever been associated with any extremist or radical groups or organizations?” you ask.

“If you consider working undercover to gain intel on them, then yes,” Natasha responds without hesitation.

“Have you ever participated or been involved in any violent behavior where someone was hurt?”

This one makes her pause for a moment before she finally admits softly, "…yes."

As the questioning continues, Natasha's playful demeanor gradually fades, replaced by a rueful tone.

By the time you reach the final question, she places her hand on your clipboard, gently setting it down on the desk.

"Maybe these questions aren’t meant for people like me," she says sadly, her tone filled with regret.

Observing her disappointed expression, you scoot closer and rest your hand on hers to draw her attention.

“Do you still want to hear my final assessment?” you ask gently.

After a contemplative pause, Natasha nods, curiosity evident in her eyes as she gestures for you to continue.

“Well, based on your answers,” you say with a dramatic pause, flipping through the papers before shaking your head firmly.

“Absolutely not. Extremely dangerous. Definitely a high-risk candidate.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief at your teasing and gives you a playful push. As your laughter subsides, you soften your tone, meeting her gaze sincerely.

“But…I’d trust you,” you admit genuinely.

Natasha's eyes widen slightly before she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. Her fingers toy with the clipboard, flipping to the last page and seeing the score sheet, before chuckling in amusement.

Turning back to you, she tilts her head with a raised brow.

“I don’t get the special question?” she asks.

You take the clipboard from her, offering a knowing look as you begin to organize the documents on your desk.

“I think we both already know your answer to that question,” you reply.

“Then ask me another,” Natasha insists.

Her request makes you pause as you ponder what to ask. Only one thing comes to mind, the question you’ve been hesitating to ask her for a long time.

Meeting her expectant gaze, you find yourself wanting to know the answer, despite the fear in your mind at the possibility of causing another big change in your life again.

Summoning your courage, you face her directly.

“Would you…,” you start, faltering momentarily before gathering yourself with a deep breath.

“...would you say ‘yes’ if I asked you out on a date tonight?”

There's a moment of silence, and just as you consider retracting the question, Natasha reaches out and adjusts the hood atop your head.

Perplexed by her action, you watch her suspiciously. Then, in one swift motion, she pulls the hood down over your eyes, obscuring your vision.

“No,” her voice responds to your question.

Hearing her stand, you quickly remove the hood to see Natasha already making her way out of the door, but before she disappears from your view, you catch the red aura surrounding her slowly fading away.

As an excited smile spreads across your face at the revelation of her true answer, your phone on the desk pings with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from Natasha.

I’ll pick you up tonight. 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 2

a/n: Thank you for reading! I know I said I was going to take a little break, but I had some time so I ended up finishing this and decided to post it now instead of later.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

no words needed

words: 1.1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, established relationship, rough-ish sex (like not really by tumblr standards lol), lingerie

you admire yourself in the mirror, turning around to make sure every strap is in place across your back.

it's not quite your two year anniversary with rafe, it's about a week away, but when you got the lingerie in the mail, you couldn't wait to put it on and surprise him with it.

you take a sip of water as you meander around the upstairs, waiting for your boyfriend to return home.

the second you hear the door open, you rush back into your bedroom, placing yourself on the edge of the bed, back pin straight and chest pushed forward, showing off your barely covered chest, nipples poking through the lace.

you can hear rafes heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, not immediately calling out for you like he normally does. it's the first sign that something is wrong.

“rafey-” you pout when he comes into the doorway, his large figure taking up most of the space, a scowl on his face, hands clenched tight in fists.

“im-im sorry.” you shake your head, trying to cover yourself the best you can. “clearly you had a bad day at work and this was stupid of me-”

rafe cuts you off, suddenly tearing off his jacket and stomping the rest of the way to you. you can feel his scowl still on his face as he kisses you, hot and hard.

his hands begin to explore, not gentle, gliding touches, but grabs and squeezes, feeling up your chest before dropping down to your ass.

you gasp when he delivers a sudden smack to your bum, but rafe just uses your open mouth as an opportunity to plunge his tongue between your lips.

rafe doesn't need to use his words for you to know what he needs at this moment. work clearly sucked, or maybe something happened with barry or his sister. you'll talk about it later. use your words to comfort him, but right now, what he needs is to seek relief in your body.

rafe pulls away from your lips, leaving you panting. he pauses for just a moment, allowing you to blink up at him, a look of pure innocence on your face opposed to his firm set brow and down turned lips.

after that moment is over, rafe begins to move quickly again, flipping you over and pushing you down face first onto the bed.

your pretty lace thong is quickly torn away, rafes large palms pushing your thighs open, viewing both your holes.

“you have while i get undressed to prepare yourself.” it's the first words rafe has spoken since you got home.

you hear him begin to undress, unbuttoning his shirt as your hand reaches down. the shirt falls to the floor as you begin to rub your clit, getting yourself wet and ready for him as he takes his belt off next.

you're significantly wetter once the last of rafes clothes have been discarded as he lines up behind him, pulling your ass right to the edge of the bed so he can remain standing, the tall mattress at a perfect height for him as his cock runs through your folds just twice before pressing against your entrance.

rafe is usually soft and sweet in this moment, slowly pushing in, pressing kisses to your skin as he tells you how good you feel, but he is not his usual self today. he plunges his cock into you in one quick motion, immediately setting a fast pace as his hips begin to thrust.

“oh fuck!” you squeal out, gripping onto the bedsheets with both hands, crying out as he obliterates you, going as deep into your cunt as your body allows.

rafe grips onto your ass, squeezing it and using your plump flesh as a hold on your body as he ravages you, focused completely on getting his sick feelings out, to put him in a better mood, a mood that allows him to kiss you gently goodnight and hold you while you sleep.

usually just looking at you would calm rafe down, but all the shit going wrong with his dealing with barry has overwhelmed him to the point of explosion.

rafe chases that relief in your pussy, grunting aggressively as he tries to move even faster, sweat dripping down his front, cresting the peak of his chest before dribbling down the contours of his abs.

rafes hands move to your thighs, lifting them up as you fall forward onto your face, moaning into the mattress as rafe groans out, your pussy feeling even tighter around his cock at this angle.

one of rafes hands runs lower down your thigh until it reaches your white knee sock, pulling the fabric back until it thwacks back against your skin, a smirk on his face.

his perfect girl, always understanding and strong, the only reason you've lasted the two years with rafe. and now, dressed up just for him.

rafe slows his hips momentarily, bending down to press a kiss between your shoulder blades. “thank you.” he manages to whisper, voice sounding vulnerable even to his ears, but it doesn't last for long as he straightens back out and picks up the pace.

you know you're close, but you're determined to hold out until rafe cums, needing your body to stay pliable and ready for however long he needs to get every drop of anger out.

rafes hands are squeezing your thighs so tightly they're sure to leave bruises in the morning. bruises that will cause your friends to giggle when you're tanning by the pool and the old ladies at the country club to gasp and whisper to each other when you don your short tennis skirt.

you don't need rafe to warn you that he's close, you can feel the way his cock begins to swell inside of your cunt, pushing further against your walls, that he's about to burst.

you allow your own orgasm to breech, screaming and moaning rafes names into the sheets as your pussy clenches around his cock.

rafe swears he sees stars from how hard his orgasm hits, body folding over yours as he cums, putting as much weight as he can into holding you down, flooding you with cum.

you both remain still as your highs work through your body until rafe slumps against you and rolls to the side.

you take another minute before picking your head up, realizing rafes eyes are closed, looking far more peaceful than when he entered.

“wanna talk about it?” you ask softly.

“in the morning.” rafe mumbles. 

you watch his face, the way his pink lips are slightly parted as he breathes, the perfect slope of his nose, his tanned skin and defined cheekbones.

“we should take a bath.” rafe says, making you blink and realize his eyes are now open, staring at you expectantly.

“yeah, sure.” you nod. “whatever you want.”

rafe gets up slowly, but not before pausing to press a soft kiss against your lips. “seriously.” he whispers. “thank you.”

you smile up at him, no words needed.

[desideriumwriter]

Metamorphosis | F.W. x Reader

Summary: Fred has been acting differently since he got hurt during the War. You're not sure how many more of his outbursts you can handle.

CW: established relationship, mentions of a head injury, TBIs, migraines, blood, being cut from broken glass, yelling, arguing, crying, not proofread

WC: 4.3k

A/N: now this one is a rollercoaster

based off this request! | f.w. masterlist | navi

Things had been difficult since May.

Voldemort was dead and the war was over. But everyone was dealing with the aftermath.

Things were quiet for a while, people were quiet. Distant but united at the same time. It took a few months for everyone to try and go back to normal.

Now it was November, and Fred was still dealing with the aftermath.

Of course, a head injury from being hit with a spell and a literal stone wall falling on him would have its long-term effects. You’d already read the list over who knows how many times.

Memory loss, light sensitivity, aggression, problems with multitasking, communication issues, irritability, mood swings, forgetfulness, etc. The list went on and on, you hated how long it was. 

You did research on it, listening to his doctors and picking up as many books you could find on head injuries or TBIs.

You even got your hands on some textbooks that muggle medical students used.

George and you took care of Fred after he came back to your shared space above the shop. He spent his first week after being discharged from the hospital at his mums, due to Mollys demands.

Things slowly went back to normal after a few months. Most things.

Shops reopened all along Diagon Alley, including the twins, people felt safe to go out and chat with each other again. 

Life went back to how it was before the war began.

The cold weather was getting harsher and so was Fred. 

You knew that the irritability and mood swings would come along with the injury. You just weren’t expecting it to be so constant.

Fred had his bad days and he had his better days. Today was one of those bad days.

You could tell he was really struggling remembering what was in stock and what needed to be made more of. You sat with him at the counter as he wrote down on a notepad what was needed. Taking notes was one of the things that helped him nowadays.

You saw him look up, the cogs attempting to turn in his head.

“Peruvian Darkness Powder.” You said softly, it was the next thing that needed to be restocked.

“Right. That. Thanks.” He muttered out, crouching over to write it down, his hand shaky and handwriting a bit wobbled.

Frustrated with his shaky hands, he threw the pen down, putting his head in his hands, rubbing his face.

“I just don’t get why it’s so hard. I feel like I can’t properly do anything.” He groaned, the annoyance clear in his voice.

“Fred, it's what the symptoms of a-”

“I know it’s a fucking brain injury. I’ve heard it enough goddamn times. You don’t need to spell it out for me.” Fred spat out, ripping his hand from yours and walking past you. That was the fourth time he snapped at you today.

After closing that night, you sat on the bench right outside the shop. Elbows resting on your knees with your head in your hands.

You were really trying here. Trying your best not to get mad at him, to yell and spit at him as he did you.

He was still your Fred that you loved. He was just a bit different now, and that was okay, he was still your Fred.

The door to the shop opened, the silly tune of the charmed bell playing as a tall figure stepped out. Fred stood to the side of you now, his frame blocked out the light shining on you from the street lamps. The only light now being from the inside of the shop, illuminating his and your face once you looked up.

You breathed in deep, closing your eyes for a second, trying to keep any tears from falling. The cold wind wasn’t helping.

“Hi.” He gave you a shamefaced smile.

George had definitely scolded him and told him to apologize once you went outside. It’s not the first time he’s made him do it in recent times.

“Hi.” You sighed.

“I’m- I didn’t mean to snap at you when you were trying to help me with what needed to be restocked, or when you offered to sort the mail.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, suddenly feeling small. The feeling had become constant for him now.

“And before both of those, when you snapped at me in your office. Then in front of one of the cashiers.”

“I did?” He said softly, genuinely shocked. You nodded, brows knit together.

“Oh, I didn’t even realize. I don’t even remember that. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so harsh.” Fred looked down, having the same expression as a kicked puppy.

“It’s okay, Fred. I know you don’t mean to.” You slowly nodded.

“I’m trying to not be so rude. I’m trying to be better, I promise.”

“I know, Fred. I know.” You sniffled.

The doctors said practicing patterns would help with cognitive ability. Patterning. So stocking the purple and orange mystery boxes in a pattern would be Fred’s practice.

He began to practice different patterns:

Purple. Orange. Purple. Orange. Repeat.

Then moved onto a bit more strange ones:

Purple. Purple. Orange. Orange. Purple. Orange. Repeat. 

He was struggling a bit more than usual today, you watched as he did, and it broke your heart.

You sighed as you put your notepad away, pausing writing down the grocery list for now and making your way over to Fred.

You reached out, putting the next correctly colored box on the shelf for him. He grumbled out a ‘thanks’.

“I can do the rest for you. Go give your brain a break.” You breathed out a laugh, trying to be lighthearted as you picked up the large box filled with the remaining mystery boxes to be put away.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it.”  Fred mumbled out, paying you barely any mind.

“Fred, I can tell your stressed enough just let me-“

“Will you piss off? I said I've got it!” Fred didn’t mean to yell, especially in the middle of a busy store, he was just frustrated. 

Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment and anger due to all the staring eyes of confused customers looking at the both of you.

“Fine, fucking do it yourself then.” You shoved the box into his hands. Walking off, pissed off as you threw off your hat onto the counter.

George murmured your name as you walked by, trying to put a hand on your shoulder, you shoved out his grasp.

You hid away in the back stockroom. George followed, entering a tiny bit after you.

You sat on a wooden box, leaned over with your head in your hands. 

“You know he doesn’t mean it. He got blasted pretty hard, it’s just one of the side effects.” George sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You were so tired of those two words. Side effects. Yes, of course you knew what the side effects and symptoms were, that they wouldn’t be pretty or easy. But you were just so sick of hearing it.

You shrugged, lifting your head up.

“He's frustrated. With himself.” George sat down next to you, intertwining his hands into a ball. “He always feels bad after he gets angry.”

“I know, and I’m trying my best to help him out but it’s like he never fucking wants it. He refuses.”

“He’s never liked help, always wanting to be so damn independent and stubborn.” George let out a weak chuckle and shook his head. “It took him five minutes to accept the money Harry gave us. Even after that he tried to tell Harry he’d give it back if he changed his mind.”

“I remember, I was there.” You smiled a bit to yourself at the memory, Fred was so adamant about Harry keeping the money, or at least most of it.

“Chocolate?” He pulled a small bar off one of the shelves, you shook your head. “It’ll make you feel better.” You persuaded, you let out an amused sigh and took it.

“You stole that line from Lupin.” Unwrapping it and biting off a small chunk.

“Yeah, but it works doesn’t it?” You let out a defeated nod and smile in response, taking another bite.

“He’s not gonna be like this forever. You know that. He’s gotten a lot better since May. Just, his moodiness will stick around for a little bit.”

“I know. I’m just so worried about him. I can’t help it.”

George was at Angelinas for the night. It took him ten minutes to stop worrying and finally go, constantly reminding you if you needed his help with Fred, if Fred starts getting mean, to send him an owl and he’d come back immediately. You shooed him off and assured him Fred and you would be fine, that he should go have a worry-free night with Angelina.

It was going well, you watched a short movie and shared some snacks and cuddles on the couch. It was all going so nicely until you both decided to get changed and go to bed.

You slipped on a night shirt talking to Fred about the movie as he opened the top drawer on the wooden dresser. The one that creaked and occasionally jammed from time to time. 

Tonight was one of those times.

He pulled out a pair of pajama pants from the drawer, his eyebrows knitting together when he pushed the drawer and it barely moved. You looked over and frowned disappointedly.

“It’s stuck again.” You sighed, thinking out loud. 

“I know.” Fred muttered out under his breath, you didn’t catch it.

You watched as he repeatedly tried to push it, it wouldn’t budge.

“It’s just old, maybe tomorrow we could go window shopping for a new one?” You suggested sweetly as he didn’t respond, he just clenched his jaw as he continued trying to close it.

He used a terrifying amount of force as he slammed the drawer shut with one last push, causing the whole thing to ratter. The sudden movement and sound made you jump. You took a step back, Fred noticed. His expression faltered for a moment as his eyes scanned your body language.

“What, are you scared of me or something now?” He muttered, an attitude in his voice.

“No, I never said I was scared of you. You just…”

 “What? I’ve just what?” 

You were so sick of his attitude. You took in a deep breath before speaking.

“You’ve been acting up, you’ve been slamming doors, throwing things down when you’re frustrated, you yell more. At George and I especially. You’re unpredictable.” You let out quickly.

“Unpredictable? I have not been that bad. You’re dramatic.” Fred shot back, he was a bit hurt by your words, yet deep down he knew you were right. His actions had become surprising. But he was too damn stubborn and he was in the middle of a beginning argument, so he wouldn’t admit to it now.

“I’m not, you’re proving your point with how you’re being now. You’re being stubborn and defensive. You get angry and you yell at me. When I’m just trying to help! The doctors said-”

“I don’t give a shit what the fucking doctors told you! Or those stupid books you’ve been wasting your time on!” All this yelling hurt his head. But the words were spilling out his mouth like a waterfall of poison. 

“Have you considered your not being any help? If you really wanted to help you’d let me do shit myself instead of acting like I’m fucking stupid! You wouldn’t be walking on eggshells around me! You’d let me be instead of being a pounding in my head!” His chest heaved, his face slowly being filled with regret as he saw you. Taking a step back with the most painful stare at him, astonishment and hurt written all over your face.

He watched as you brought your arms up around you, holding yourself as if it was a way of shielding yourself from his words.

“Is that really what you think of me?” Your voice went soft. A small crack in your delivery of words as you rubbed your upper arm.

“No! Absolutely not! I just- I’m-” Here comes the sputtered out apologies, the regret filling him up immediately, you just shook your head.

“Forget it, I’m done with this conversation.” You barged out the room. That look never leaving your face, it will haunt him forever.

“Where are you going? I thought you were going to bed?” He called out as you went down the hallway.

“I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.” You shouted back, more of a loud mutter really. Fred said your name disappointedly, leaning against the bedroom door frame. You didn’t respond, you didn’t turn around, you made your way to the couch.

He didn’t run after and stop you. Knowing you’d give him the silent treatment and refuse to get in the same bed as him. For tonight only. Hopefully.

Though you tried to muffle and hide your sobs behind your hands, Fred could still hear it all the way from the bedroom. Those pained sharp breaths in that turned into wheezes, the little hiccups and whimpers of sadness you made when you breathed out were far too loud to be hidden.

You cried for two hours until you finally got a grip of yourself. Getting up and going down the hallway, not to get back in bed, but to see if Fred was.

You peeked your head in just enough to see his side of the bed, he was laying on his back peacefully, his eyes puffy. Had he been crying also?

He was relaxed now though, resting. At least he was getting some sleep. You quietly sneaked back to the living room. Lying back down on the couch and using a throw pillow for your head. 

You couldn’t get comfortable, couldn’t keep your eyes shut, couldn’t stop thinking, you couldn’t sleep. You missed him, you really just wanted to be next to him.

By the time the clock ticked to 2AM, you got up, tiptoeing back into the bedroom. Sneaking to your side of the bed, so carefully pulling back the sheets. You moved so carefully, so lightly, so gently as if everything was made of fine china. 

You debated if you should snuggle up to Fred, not wanting to wake him. What if he got annoyed again? You really didn’t want to deal with another conflict.

You carefully scooted over to him anyways, testing your luck. You slowly wrapped your arm around his torso, ever so lightly laying your head on his chest. He began to move and your body immediately tensed up.

His arm hooked around you, circling your waist, the other arm reaching over, his hand softly placed on the side of your head. Your body went limp in happiness. You could start crying again from all the joy you felt in this moment.

This is how you knew Fred hadn’t become a whole other person than the one you knew before the accident. His hands on you, holding onto you so sweetly, just like he used to. There were still those little remnants of his true self hanging around. He was still Fred. He was still your Fred.

You woke up to an empty bed. The sunlight shining down on Freds side of the mattress.

You changed into more presentable clothes, hearing the chatter from downstairs and knowing the shop was open. 

Going downstairs, Fred was nowhere to be seen while George was moving around helping customers and constantly casting spells to organize things.

Owning a joke shop was absolutely not a one man job.

“Where’s Fred?” You asked, looking around as you approached the counter. George was stacking cards. 

“In his office. Another migraine.” He tucked in his lips, seemingly annoyed.

“Oh. Well, I’m gonna go out, probably window shop. Do you need anything?”

“Could you get some cabbage? And a few more quills and ink? We’re running low.” He said, swiveling his way out from behind the counter.

You may have stayed out longer than you meant to.

Thinking you’d be back before five, you got home at nearly eight instead.

You did some looking around in local furniture shops, and you picked up what George asked for. You mostly just walked around the quieter streets, needing to get away from all the noise.

By the time you got back it was a bit dark outside and there was a closed sign on the shop door. You unlocked and locked it quickly, moving upstairs tiredly.

The living room light was turned off, the moonlight from outside being the only thing that made the room somewhat visible. Fred was sitting on the couch.

“Hey.” You spoke softly. 

“Hi.”

“Where’d George go?”

“He stopped by Angelina’s for dinner.” He said blankly. Everything felt so awkward.

“Oh. Have you eaten?” You asked as you set down the bags of supplies.

“Yeah, I had some leftovers.”

“Okay, well, what’re you doing in the dark? Get some light in here.” You giggled as you flipped up the light switch, overhead light brightening up the room.

Fred quickly scrunched his eyes closed with a pained expression, he put a hand up to shadow his face.

Fuck. Light sensitivity. He was already dealing with a migraine, that’s why he was in the dark, and you turning on the light made it much more intense.

“Shit. Sorry, sorry, sorry.” You blurted out as you hit the switch down, the room going darker again.

“Here, I’ll- I’ll get you a glass of water.” You sputtered out, running over to the kitchen sink and grabbing a glass, filling it up with cold water from the tap.

“No, you don’t have to.” Fred muttered out.

“Please, it’ll help. Just let me help.” You pleaded as you ran back over to the couch, sitting down and holding the glass towards him. He denied it again.

“Fred, just drink-“

“I told you! No!” He shouted, pushing your hand away.

The glass slipped out of your grasp. Hitting the floor and cracked into pieces, somewhere in the impact a small shard hit your lower leg. Nothing serious, it could be quickly closed up with a spell, but it was bleeding heavily already.

Fred realized what had happened once you felt the stung and winced, holding a hand over your small injury, crimson staining your hand and dripping onto your sock.

“Oh Merlin, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He panicked as he straightened up, patting his sides for his wand, he had left it in his office. He saw yours on the coffee table.

“Here, let me fix-” He reached one hand towards your wand, the other laying on your shoulder.

“Don’t. It’s fine, I’ve got it.” You said as you reached across, grabbing your wand and leaned your shoulder away from his touch.

His stomach twisted, the guilt was eating him up. He fidgeted with his fingers, not knowing what to do with his hands now that you refused his touch and his help.

You said a quick spell, the cut swiftly closing, skin looking unharmed and the only evidence of what happened being the remnants of drying blood on your leg and hand.

“I’m gonna go wash off my hands.” You said so quietly, almost a whisper. Fred stayed silent as he watched you get up and walk away, he wanted to cry.

You returned to the living room with a packed suitcase, quickly walking past Fred on the couch and to the chimney. His eyes stayed glued on you the entire time. You didn’t look at him.

“You’re leaving?” Freds brows knit together in a sad way, he sat up straight from his spot on the couch.

“Yeah. Not for long. I’ll be back.” You spoke, back facing him as you put down your small suitcase.

“Where?”

“A friends place. For a few days.” You didn’t tell him who, he would most likely send letters apologizing.

George was the one who suggested it surprisingly. Once he came home as you were washing off the blood, he told you to go take a few days to yourself.

“No offense to you, you’ve been doing great. But I’ve lived with him for nearly twenty-six years. I know how to deal with him when he’s mad.” He held your shoulders.

“I know how to deal with him too, you know.” 

“Of course I do. But I know you’re worn out as well. You need to take some care of yourself. Focus on you for a few days.” You really didn’t want to agree with George on that, it felt rude to do it. There was really no good way of saying he was wearing you down.

“I’m sorry.” Fred spoke out.

“I know, Fred.” You let out a heavy breath. “I’m not mad at you. I think we should take a break from each other.” You tried not to let your voice wobble.

“You don’t mean a break up, right?” He stood up from the couch.

“No. Of course not.” You finally turned around, looking at his gloomy face. “We just need to spend some time apart, just for a day or so. Okay?” You kept your voice soft and nurturing, hoping it would hide the way your own words were breaking your heart.

"Can I just get a hug before you leave? Please?" Fred took a few steps closer, his steps cautious. You closed your eyes and nodded.

You didn’t want to look at him for too long, both of your faces were threatening to deteriorate into tears, and you couldn’t stand to see it.

He pulled you into him nicely, hands slowly and carefully wrapping around you like you would crack if he moved the wrong way.

“I’m sorry I’m like this. I love you.” He said softly, sounding like it was a plea for you to stay.

“I know.” You mumbled into his chest.

Fred’s injury didn’t bother you. The forgetfulness of struggles with certain things didn’t bother you, you didn’t care if he struggled to keep track with things. 

It was just his anger. His outbursts. His shouting. That’s what bothered you, it was nothing like him. Sure, he’s definitely gotten moody or stubborn or annoyed before like during Quidditch matches back at Hogwarts or when a much needed shipment arrived late at the shop.

But you’ve rarely seen him truly mad, yell like he does now, the only time you can remember him like that is when he had to be held back from helping George and Harry beat up Malfoy after a match in his seventh year.

“I still love him, of fucking course I do. But he’s changed so much. it’s like,” You stopped, clenching your jaw and trying your best trying to keep tears from returning. “It’s like sometimes I look at him, and he’s a ghost, he’s a completely different man I fell in love with all those years ago.”

“You’ve changed too.” Alicia commented, “You’re not as much of a hermit as you used to be.” She joked, poking you.

“Oh piss off.” You let out a breathy chuckle, face falling soon after. “I’m scared. What if he stays like this forever?” You whispered out, a small crack in your voice.

“He won’t. You told me already, there’s still that cheeky little Fred that you’ve always know still in him. He’s getting better day by day.” She tilted her head. “And fuck it. Even if he doesn’t, even if it takes a while, you gotta grow with him.” You looked at her, puzzled expression on your face.

“If you don’t grow with him, if you aren’t willing to go through that, then what in the hell are you doing?” She shrugged, laying back in her chair. “You’ve gone through these shitty times with him before, right? And you both made it through. What makes you worried you won’t be able to do it again?” 

Alicia was right. You’ve gone through rough patches with him and made it out just fine. Casual disagreements, arguments and fights, yet you always made up. Leaving those arguments in the past and loving each other in the present.

“You staying another night?” Alicia asked you, taking a sip from her glass.

“No, I think I’ll go back. I’ll send an owl and tell them before I go.”

Once the green flames subsided and you stepped out of the chimney, dusting off your clothes. Fred came running into the room, a bouquet of all the flowers in his hand.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Feeling alright today?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah.”

God, you hated the awkward tension in the air. It felt like this every time you had a conversation.

“That’s good. Uh, these are for you.” He stuck out the bouquet nervously, hand trembling. You put down your suitcase and stepped closer. A small noise of adoration left as you looked at the flowers, it was all your favorites.

“I may not be able to remember much. But I remembered these were always your favorite.” He let out an awkward laugh.

The last time you told him what flowers you liked was in year five. You took the bouquet from him with hesitant hands, surprised by the gift. Fred swallowed his anxiety before he began to speak again.

“I didn’t mean to be so rude. I just get so frustrated with myself, I don’t want to act like that anymore. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t take it out on you, you didn’t deserve it.” He moved to cup his hands around your face, bringing your teary eyes to meet his.

“I promise you I’m going to be better. I swear on everything. I will be better.” He gave you a sweet kiss on your forehead, then pulled you into a hug. 

You held on tightly to his torso, turning the flowers away to keep them from being crushed.

“I love you.” You said into his sweater, tears beginning to fall.

“I love you too. So much.”

tell me what you thought! <3

[miaountainmama]

capable

characters: jing yuan, fembodied!reader contains: pwp, shameless smut, gentle sex, lots of praise. he calls you beloved and bends you over his desk and also eats you out. also he's larger than you because he's like 6'3" so sorry if you're somehow his size. minors dni or i'll eat your bones

wc: 3829

a/n: FIRST HSR POST WOOOOO boothill is my man but i wrote this for my bf. he then told me jing yuan is talking to reader like a horse. everyone stone him

“The Cloud Knights are already stretched thin as they are, so I don’t think it would be wise to dispatch them for this.”

You stare unseeing at Yanqing as he reports before the stairs in front of the desk in the Seat of Divine Foresight. On a normal day, you were a gold star employee, the perfect picture of Jing Yuan’s assistant: attentive, well-mannered, and adept at many things. However, it’s impossible to focus on Yanqing from where you stand by the railing— impossible to focus on anything but the feeling of the General’s golden eyes resting upon your form. You feel yourself being picked apart by his gaze, and though you attempt to maintain a cool facade, leaning against one of the posts of the railing, you can feel your collar getting a little hot under the unwavering attention. You can feel his eyes traveling, alternating between your face and the plush of your thighs being squeezed by your shorts. It’s an exposing feeling… not that you mind.

Jing Yuan, on the other hand, seems to have no problem paying attention to two things at once. He leans forward against his desk, his honeyed stare finally moving off of your body and back to the poor boy just doing his job. You try your best not to think about the way his hands flexed around the wooden surface, try your best not to think about how they’d feel holding you down instead. Your mouth slowly twists into a sly smirk at the idea as he opens his mouth to speak.

“I see. I suppose I will take care of this matter personally, as it seems my assistant looks a little… preoccupied at the moment. I am more than capable.”

Your eyes snap to his, losing their unfocused haze, and they narrow, a little embarrassed but not entirely displeased at being caught thinking about him. He’s already looking at you again, eyes half-lidded and glinting with mirth and unspoken hunger, and you match his expression.

“Oh… more than capable? Are we underestimating me now, General? I don’t take kindly to that, you know. Perhaps I’ll need you to show me just how… capable you can be,” you purr, wrapping your fingers around the railing and tilting your head forward to look at him through your lashes. His eyebrows raise minutely before he lets out a low rumble of a laugh from deep in his chest, looking pleased at the way you responded. He shifts forward as well, lips curling upwards, and he looks about ready to tease you right back before a voice cuts through the tension.

“Of course the General is capable. He’s the General, are you crazy?” Both of you look at Yanqing, completely oblivious to the mood in the room, and you resist the urge to sigh (and/or strangle him). Still, you take the interruption in stride. You can’t fault him for being just a boy.

“Seeing is believing, and I’m sure there’s a lot the General hasn’t shown me,” you say, not missing a beat. Yanqing looks about ready to interject again, ready to defend the General’s honor, but before he can, you hear the smooth lilt of Jing Yuan’s voice interrupt.

“It seems I haven’t been entirely open with my assistant. Yanqing, you’re free to go. I’ll work out the finer details with them. We’ll take it from here.”

“Are you sure? You don’t need me here to-”

“Yes, Yanqing, I’m sure. You have the rest of the day to do as you wish. Please, leave us,” Jing Yuan says, eyes never leaving you, and Yanqing gives a short bow and a “yes, General” before following orders, softly shutting the door and leaving the two of you alone. The two of you don’t blink, staring into each other’s eyes as you hear his quick footsteps fading away.

The moment the echoes disappear, he’s on you.

He has one large hand on your thigh, the other pulling you close by the small of your back, and your eyes immediately flutter shut in triumph. Yes, this is what you’ve been thinking of, yearning for all day. Your hands are in his hair, tugging his face closer and capturing his lips in a heated kiss, thumb brushing against the mole on his cheekbone. He’s bent over, neck craning down to reach you, and he walks you back slowly to sit you on his desk. You barely notice the cool feeling of the wood against your thighs, too preoccupied with getting more, feeling more. You reach for one of the belts around his waist, wanting to waste no time, but are stopped by Jing Yuan grabbing your wrist.

“What’s the rush, beloved?” he asks in a low voice, the slightest hint of a laugh gracing his tone. He guides your hand back up to hold his face and hair again before tilting your chin up and to the side with a finger. 

Everything Jing Yuan does to you, he does slowly. Painfully slowly, at times. This was one of those times.

“General,” you whine as he goes for where your neck meets your jaw, pressing a long, lingering kiss there. Still, he remains unbothered, though he does lightly nip at the skin with his teeth.

“Jing Yuan. You know you can call me anything you like when we’re alone,” he corrects, soothing the new red mark with his tongue. Already, he’s leaving you breathless, and you nod, feeling the heat rushing through your body at the pleasurable sensation. It’s not enough, though, and you tell him as much, pulling him closer by the hips,

“Then, Jing Yuan,” you say. “Hurry up already.”

Another kiss to your neck, another gentle laugh. “I have a whole lifetime to do as I please with you. Besides, you haven't pleaded your case convincingly enough,” he says, though he does indulge you a little by unhooking the clasp around your collar. You whine again as he pushes the fabric to the side, now pressing his lips against the crook of your neck.

“Pleaded my case? What, do you want me to beg you?” you ask, hands threading through his long white hair and tugging lightly, and you feel his lips curl into a lazy grin at the thought.

“Now that doesn’t sound so bad,” he says, punctuating his words with a squeeze to your thigh. His other hand wanders, caressing the curve of your waist, sliding upwards until it reaches the cutout in your shirt above your breasts. He moves his face from your neck as he slips his hand under the fabric, returning to kiss your lips as he cups a breast and teases a nipple with a finger. Your entire body jolts forward at the touch, back arching, and you let out a small noise into Jing Yuan’s lips as he kisses you. Again, you can feel his mouth curve into a slight smile at the action.

You’re incredibly needy by this point, heart racing, and you swear you’re probably going to have a wet spot through your shorts if he keeps going at this rate. Your core is aching for sensation, for sweet release.

“Jing Yuan,” you pant, pulling away from his kiss slightly. His eyes flutter open, meeting your gaze with his own golden eyes before he closes them again and pulls you back in, seeming just as unhurried as ever. You pull back a second time, more insistently this time.

“Jing Yuan, please,” you say, and you see something flash in his expression as his eyes open to look at you again. He reaches up to touch your face, and you realize you’ve found a sensitive spot— and you’ll exploit it as much as possible.

“Please,” you repeat, lacing your voice with as much need as possible, making sure to look directly into his eyes. On the outer rim of your vision you can see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows once, something sparking through his face a second time. Once you drop a hand down to trail along his chest, he’s done for.

“How can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?” he says, looking pleased, and he maneuvers you to stand with his hands. You follow his movements without complaint, though your face does burn as his fingers hook around the waistband of your shorts and pull down. He motions for you to sit back on the desk, so you step out of your shorts and do so, feeling the cool surface of the wood against your bare body. You swear you can feel your quickened pulse between your legs as he nudges them open and spreads them slightly, and you make a softly embarrassed noise as it displays how wet you are for him to see. However, his eyes sparkle with delight, and his right hand drops down to lightly touch you. When his finger pulls away from your core, it’s shiny from slick.

“Oh… now that’s a sight to see. Mind if I take a closer look?” he murmurs lowly, and you nod, not sure what he means but willing to let him do anything to you at this point. You blink in surprise as he drops to his knees in front of you, kneeling in between your legs, and you resist the urge to close them around his head in embarrassment as he comes face to face with your heat. He reaches out to touch again, gently spreading you open with his thumb, and your breath catches at the feeling. You say nothing, opting to let him do as he pleases, and he switches to tracing the lines of your folds with his middle finger. He’s slow, careful with it, and you feel incredibly lewd as his finger gets coated with your wetness. He traces his finger down again, and with one motion sends you reeling as he sticks it inside you to the knuckle.

He looks up at you from below, taking in your face as you watch him, your breath coming out in heavy pants as you feel your walls clenching and unclenching around his finger to adjust to the feeling. He gives you a moment of brief reprieve before he’s gently pumping it in and out, finding your clit with a thumb then leaning in to latch his lips around it. You let out a strangled moan at the feeling as he sucks on it, languidly stroking his tongue across the bud, your hands flying to his hair to steady yourself as he eats you out. It feels humiliatingly good, every slow drag of his tongue around your clit and every measured thrust of his finger sending you further into ecstasy. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand to muffle your sounds, but the moment you do so, Jing Yuan ceases in his actions, slowing to a stop and pulling away to look at you. 

“I don’t intend to hold anything back, so you shouldn’t either,” he says, coaxing you to lower your hand, and he hums in approval as you return it back to his hair. “Very good. Always so good for me.” 

He dives back in, sucking and swirling his tongue around, pumping his finger, and this time, you let your shaky moan of pleasure free. His hand tightens around your thigh when he hears it, going at you a little harder, and you respond in kind, tugging at the strands of his silky white hair. You’re so worked up that he’s getting you there embarrassingly fast— your walls begin to clench around his finger, and it doesn’t help when he slides a second one in, curled just right and hitting just the right places. His unhurried pace continues even as you suddenly jerk forward, a groan of his name leaving your lips as you release all over his fingers. Your head tilts back, mouth gasping and whimpering and making all sorts of wanton noises as your body twitches from the relentless stimulation. It’s not until your moans subdue somewhat that he pulls back, resting a cheek against your thigh and looking up at you with adoring eyes. You’re breathing heavily, eyes unfocused, though they twitch a bit when he removes his fingers from inside you. He wipes them on his pants, lightly caressing your inner thigh with the other hand. He presses a kiss to the skin there as you recover at least a little bit, though he doesn’t let you waste all the time he spent preparing you. After a few more seconds he’s smoothly climbing to his feet to tower over you again.

Jing Yuan grabs you by the hips, gently pulling you off the table. His grip is firm, and despite the slight weakness in your knees, he doesn’t let you fall.

“Careful, beloved. We can’t have you hurting yourself, now,” he says, still wearing that smug, lazy smile. You hum in acknowledgement, grabbing onto him to steady yourself, and he leans down to kiss you softly before turning you around so your back is to him. He pushes at the small of your back, carefully coaxing you to bend over at the waist over his desk and tracing down your spine as you fold over. You can feel his hands massage your hips for a brief moment before they’re gone, leaving you cold and wanting for his touch. You try your best to keep your eyes straight forward, though, looking out the window behind his desk as you hear the clink of his metal belt buckles. The belts are quickly tossed beside you on the desk, followed by the sound of fabric rustling, and your heart is pounding from anticipation as you hear him take a controlled, slow breath from behind. 

A warm hand returns to your hip, and you unconsciously lean into the touch.. “Are you ready, my love?” he asks, stepping closer, and you can feel the heat radiating from him— it makes you nearly salivate, imagining just what he’s going to do to you in a moment.

“Yeah. Please,” you reply, urging him on, and he chuckles lowly before you feel him slide his cockhead along the wetness between your legs. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head at the contact you’ve been waiting for for hours, hips bucking backwards.

“Easy, now,” he says, light laughter in his voice, though it sounds a little strained. Perhaps the need is getting to him too— it’s certainly getting to you, evident by the shallow, rushed breaths you’re taking. You don’t complain though as he coats himself in your slick, knowing it’ll help it feel better in the long run and knowing he’ll take his time no matter what you do. After he deems himself sufficiently lubricated, he holds himself steady, not quite inside you yet but prodding at your entrance. He holds still, just taking in the sight, the view of you at his complete mercy, and just when you’re about to turn around and tell him to hurry up he pushes forward, slowly, not wanting to hurt you. He’s always been large, but considering how much smaller you were than him, he feels he has to be extra careful.

Your breath hitches as he splits you open inch by inch, eyes fluttering half shut as you feel the stretch. A shaky moan leaves your lips as he bottoms out, his hands going to stroke your hips to soothe you.

“There we are. You’re doing well, beloved,” he says, voice smooth and soft, and you swear that him speaking just makes you feel that much better. He pulls back, leaving just the tip in, before lazily thrusting in again— it rips a heavy moan from deep in his chest, and, true to his word from earlier, he doesn’t hold anything back. As he sets a steady, slow pace, he’s not loud by any means, but he certainly doesn’t care to muffle his noises. His occasional groans and frequent words of praise make you clench around him, which just makes him groan even more. The room is filled with your noises, his noises, and the sound of slick skin against skin— and you get even louder when he reaches around you, swiping a finger against your wetness before beginning to gently rub at your clit. Your back arches further, head tilting back, as you let out the most debauched moan you ever have in your life. Jing Yuan chuckles from behind you.

“Does it feel good?” he teases, and your head lolls forward, a desperate whimper leaving your mouth from the feeling of him both inside and outside of you. 

“Yeah,” you whine. “So good.”

He hums in satisfaction, leaning over to press a kiss to your shoulder blade and upping his pace just a little bit. He’s certainly not going fast— it’s always been his style to carefully work you towards your climax, to enjoy the buildup rather than get you there immediately. Still, it sets pleasurable fire running through your veins, and your hands clench from where they’re holding onto the desk. Every drag of his cock inside you sends you closer to the edge, your body beginning to shake slightly. Your eyes are unseeing, too caught up in the feeling of in and out, in and out, circling around, rubbing, in and out. A warm feeling is beginning to stir in your gut, a tightness forming in your core, and you nearly salivate as you want more, need more. 

“Jing Yuan,” you whimper, wanting to convey as such but not having the capability to utter more than a few words at a time. “Jing Yuan,” you try again, and you hear the smile in his voice as he gently shushes you, thumb caressing your hip.

“It’s all right, my love, I understand. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, and he begins to snap his hips deeper, still gentle but deeper. It rips a strangled moan from your throat, your eyelids fluttering, and that pleasured feeling grows tenfold. Your moans grow more frequent, more desperate, and you clench around him, trying your best to hold yourself back from cumming too fast. You’re breathing heavily, trying to control yourself, but then you feel him lean in over you again, murmuring close into your ear.

“You don’t have to hold back, beloved. Go ahead. I promise it’ll feel better,” he says, voice all warm and soft, and you take his words in stride— who are you to deny your General? A few more thrusts, a few more circles on your clit and you’re gone, neck snapping backwards as you let out a choked wail of pleasure, electricity flying through your entire body as your hands nearly leave imprints in the surface of the desk. Your vision blurs, likely due to the crystalline tears that have sprung to your eyes, and your back arches as your body seizes. Jing Yuan holds you steady, murmuring placating praises as your hips buck. He doesn’t stop his motions, fucking you through your high, and you swear your knees almost give out on you as the heat just doesn’t stop. Even once the ecstasy dulls somewhat, your moans subsiding by just a hair, pleasure remains, and you want him to keep going, keep going until you’re spent, until he’s spent, until the both of you collapse. You yourself are probably near the point of collapse at this point, legs like jelly, and, sensing this from where he’s half holding you up, Jing Yuan nudges one of your legs up so you’re half perched on his desk now.

“Careful, my love,” he says, still thrusting lazily into you, and you just whine back, now resting all your weight on the wood surface. He readjusts the hand that circles your clit to the new position, and the type of friction changes— all your nerves feel like they fry in response. Behind you, Jing Yuan’s breathing has deepened, though it remains steady and controlled. Only you know that it means he’s close— he only sounds this disciplined, this restrained when he’s trying not to cum. Occasionally, deep “mmmhh”s and “ah”s leave his lips, though they’re quiet, and Aeons, the thought of him letting go is so hot it makes your walls flutter and pulse around him. 

“Oh, beloved,” he groans at the feeling, hands tightening around your hips, and his thrusts are starting to get a bit sloppy, a little less rhythmic. The heat rises between the two of you, the air growing more frantic, and both of you are close, so close— you whimper his name, and his movements are getting shallower, a little more rapid. He leans down, pressing more of his body against yours, as if he’s suddenly desperate to feel you against him. One of his hands leaves your hip to brace himself against the desk, holding himself above you, and you can feel the feverish temperature radiating off his skin. His head lolls, a needy, strangled groan escaping his mouth, and that’s all it takes for the feeling to become unbearable again.

You come for the third time, and this time it’s the strongest it’s been— your noises reflect that. For a second you worry it sounds like you’re getting killed, but it feels so good you can’t even care. The noises are guttural, from deep in your chest, and as your hands tense you can feel Jing Yuan’s hand tense on your hip as well. 

“Ah, beloved,” he moans shamelessly into your ear, and then he’s gone too, delivering a thrust deep into you as you feel him spurt thick ropes of cum inside you. He doesn’t stop moving, still lazily grinding into you, both of you moaning, you whimpering as the pleasure plateaus and you become sensitive. Your hips jerk backwards, and he lets out a breathy, pleasure-coated laugh, following you and not letting up.

“Jing Yuan, too much, sensitive,” you gasp, and at this he finally slows, eventually coming to a stop still buried inside you. You’re panting, shaking slightly, and he hums in appreciation, straightening up with a groan and reaching forward to run a hand along the back of your shoulder. You both just stand there for a minute, breathing hard, before he sighs slightly in satisfaction and slowly pulls out, taking all his warmth with him. You make a disgruntled noise at the loss, though you know you can’t stay like this forever, and he gently rights you as well, tucking himself back into his pants. You turn to face him, sitting back on the desk while you recover, and watch as he leaves you to walk across the room, rummaging around for a second before returning with a glass of water.

“So, my dear assistant. Have I shown you how capable I can be, then?” he asks, that gleam in his eye returning, and you laugh, taking the glass from him and taking a big sip.

“Yeah. I dare say you have.”

[minus-plus-zer0]

Sunshine Vs Grumpy

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

When you first met Bakugou, he always wore a grumpy expression.

You didn’t understand how someone could look so darn upset all the time. You felt a burning desire to fix that, for the sake of his pretty face.

“Bakugouuuu!” 

You called out to Bakugou in a quiet hallway, and Bakugou nearly jumped out of his skin due to your voice. Your voice alone always seemed to startle him, for whatever reason. But he still retained his grumpy expression as he turned to you.

“What?!" Bakugou snapped. "What the hell was that for?”

You pouted. “Oh you’re doing it again!” 

“Doing WHAT?”

“That! That right there! You’re frowning all the time! You’re such a grumpy pants you know that?”

“HAH?! Where the hell do you get off telling me that to my face?”

“Well I just thought you would feel so much better if you weren’t so unhappy all the time, so I wanted to point it out and cheer you up! Here, let me try.”

“WHAT ARE YOU–”

You patted his arm like a salesman would pat a fine car. Bakugou wrinkled his nose and scrutinized your gesture. 

“You don’t gotta fucking pat me to calm me down dammit! I’m not weak to your damn petting! I’m not–”

You stroked his arm. “There, there… There, there…”

“I can calm down just fine on my own,” Bakugou said, his voice slowly getting less heated. “There’s nothing wrong with my anger. Or my frowns.

You hugged his arm lightly, swinging it a little. “It’s okay! No worries, it’s gonna be alright!”

Bakugou exhaled through his nose, staring down at you. Bakugou lost most of the anger in him. His expression looked much more relaxed as he gazed at you.

“See?” you said, pointing at his face. “Isn’t this better?”

“You gonna steal my arm every time I frown?” Bakugou asked, with a leveled voice.

“Every time! As much as it takes!”

Bakugou clicked his tongue. “I got places to go. C’mon.”

Bakugou practically dragged you around school for the rest of the day because you wouldn't let go. He never told you to let go either. Bakugou would stand and wait for you to cling back on if you ever accidentally fell off. And true to your word, you continued to cling to him long after in the following days and weeks. The boy would not stop getting into fights and you had to be there to calm him down.

Eventually, Bakugou did calm down quite a bit, and you stopped accompanying him everywhere. Then, Bakugou started knocking on your dorm door to figure out where the hell you went.

"Why'd you leave?" Bakugou asked.

"I thought you were doing well on your own," you said. "So I assumed you wouldn't need me anymore..."

"Wouldn't need you...?"

Bakugou spelled out the words like they were foreign to him. Even now, he still didn't look angry. Just confused.

"Ya can't just dump me all of a sudden..." Bakugou said. "That's too damn much... Ya know, I've gotta hit the convenience store soon and there's an asshole cashier that gets on my nerves. You coming or what? Snacks are on me."

"Hm... snacks? Maybe... I don't know..."

Bakugou sighed. "...Can you please come with me?"

This was not the first time you saw a more vulnerable side of Bakugou, but it was one of your favorites. The boy looked genuinely concerned.

"Sure, okay!" you said. "Since you asked soooo nicely."

Bakugou's expression lit up just like yours did and his good mood only continued throughout the night. After spending enough time with you, you eventually considered Bakugou to be well rehabilitated from his chronic grumpy face disease.

(Clingy goofy dorky needy loser Bakugou strikes again!)

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

Hi hi!!!

Can I request a yandere Orion Pax/Optimus Prime x cybertronian! Reader??? (Transformers One)

Yes yes, more TFO Orion Pax and Optimus Prime yes yes. ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

(TFO) Yandere!Orion Pax / Optimus Prime x Cybertronian!Reader - "Rebirth"

WARNINGS: Yandere behaviour. Obsessive and possessive behaviour, Reader gets basically kidnapped and isolated. Reader is gender neutral.

The days in Iacon started to slowly become brighter - the public murder of Sentinel Prime and Megatron's vanishment shook Iacon for too many days, making the days feel tense. But Elita-1, Bumblebee and Optimus Prime did such good at becoming the three lights of hope and guidance for Iacon.

Still, you couldn't help but miss the old days (of course, leaving out the corruption and social injustice of those days). You really shouldn't be remembering with some kind of nostalgia those days of hard shifts to be done until you were nearly feeling all of your joints hurt and have to suffer verbal harrassment from the guards just because of the work title you had as a miner.

... but deep down in your spark, you missed the Orion Pax you once knew.

Orion Pax, the pain in the aft for the guards and the mech who sometimes acted before thinking, having both Elita-1 and D-16 behind him and trying to keep him from getting in trouble or drag someone into the trouble (D-16 was always the one to suffer the latter). And the mech who was constantly courting you - little flirts and pick up lines, holding your servo at recharging hours, helping you in the working shifts, supporting you emotionally or making sure you didn't got hurt.

You were sure Orion Pax was the mech you wanted to court back oficially and become his Conjux - and he was damn sure he wanted that too! You miss those recharge hours that, before going into stasis mode, he would promise you to become your Conjux Endura and you, his.

And sadly, as the new Prime and head of Iacon, Orion - well, Optimus now didn't had that much free time: he had to be a leader, take decisions on the reconstruction socially and morally on Iacon, plan defense tactics against the Quintessons, and also keep an eye for any Decepticon activity as they have recently started to make a few little troubles outside of Iacon. And you were perfectly aware at how time consuming and sacrifice those tasks were - Optimus was moving for the sake of moving his people to reach a better life. And that only made you yearn more for him and love him silently, too.

Primus was still merciful, for whenever you and him managed to cross paths, Optimus Prime would give you those soft smiles you were used to, wishing you a good day and make sure to at least visit you a couple of kliks before you went to recharge.

"He still loves you." Elita-1 said to you one day you and she got to match your breaks.

"Really?" You ask, hopeful as the pink fembot nods her helm.

"He is always counting the kliks before it is time to go and recharge and see you again. Primus - he sometimes gets lost in his own thoughts and when Bee points out that he might be thinking about you, Optimus gets all blue of embarrassment." The fembot chuckles, making you chuckle as well and feel your spark warm.

That talk made you feel at ease - Optimus still loved you, just as you loved him. Still, you couldn't help but feel saddened at how much the two of you had to do and that kept you away from being with each other - to finally confess your feelings for the mech.

You shake your helm a little, taking a deep breath to then exhale as you place carefully a few datapads in their respective shelves at one of the recording rooms. "Keep your helm cool, (Y/N) - he is a Prime now and he is acting like one, he must look for our people... there will be time soon to meet again and bond with him." You try to tell yourself and lift your own mood. You smile to yourself, deciding to remain hopeful yet with your pedes on reality and keep working.

As you work, a big frame remains hidden from your knowledge outside of the room, a few steps away from the entrance.

When Orion felt his cold frame be embraced by the warm light of the Allspark and his spark be set on once again - to then hear his new name be called... he came to terms that he died. To then be reborn.

Rebirthing was always been a studied yet not spoken concept in the Cybertronian society. There were many theories that being reborn was possible - Primus works in such interesting ways... of course, many that believe in said concept always come to the same conclusion: a cybertronian can go through the process of rebirth. But it will never be the same.

You name it - lost memories that are now deep buried in their systems and softwares, old mannerism from their past lives still engraved in their spark but never recalling when those mannerisms appeared in the first place, and so on. The same, but changed.

And that's what happened to Orion - he knew who he was before dying, but also didn't feel like Orion, but now as Optimus Prime. The same, but changed.

His love for you... did change, too.

He still loved you - with such a fiery passion, the same one that kept him pushing and moving when he was out of Iacon with Elita, Bee and (his now lost) D-16. He wanted to bring justice for his people and you, give you what you were taken from: the right to live.

He still felt his spark buzz and pulsate at the sight of you - precious, beautiful, ethereal you.

But, while when he was just Orion Pax, his love for you felt fuzzy, warm and innocent... now it felt - too complex.

When he saw you again after Megatron's vanishment and your T-cog making your frame change a little, he felt his spark vibrate with such intensity. He wanted to hold you and not let go, let his spark and yours fuse until they were just one. He wanted to keep you in his arms and carry you, never let you once again work, walk or waste energy in any sense - he wanted to keep you safe and sound, in his hold, hugging you and let you rest as much as you want.

Each time he saw you interact with others made his spark hiss - it scared him as the need to take you and not let others talk or see you grew and grew. He knew it was wrong. It was more than wrong. He always prayed to Primus silently for strenght, trying to force himself ot not seek out for you just to see you - but his spark would agonize, pulsate with such hysteria and pain that it would only calm down after setting Optimus' optics on you from afar.

Optimus wants to feel guilty for this changed love for you and how he takes advantage of his new title to task you with small jobs that keeps you isolated from others, like fixing archives and datapads in the recording rooms or such.

He begged to Primus to have his spark teared off - he was becoming the same false Prime that ruled over them before. Or worse.

"Oh, Or- I mean, Optimus." Your sweet voice makes Optimus click back into reality, finding you right in front of him, holding a few datapads with your servos, giving him that gentle smile with your faceplate.

"I was looking for you." Optimus announced as you left the datapads on the desk of the recording room. And his spark purred at the sight of your smile growing, brightly as always.

"Oh, really? I mean - what can I do for you?" You ask. And your spark twirls when Optimus extends his servo at you to hold. And you gladly take it, his hold strong and warm, still gentle with you as he starts to walk. And Optimus can't help but smile softly as he sees how you follow him.

The Prime looks down at you, his optics holding that genuine love that was slowly twisting into something that scared him - and yet, allows to keep going. After all, his mind didn't stop his body when he started to walk towards your working area.

"I've been meaning to... speak with you - sadly, my tasks as a Prime had kept me from looking after you before. But I've decided to no longer await." Optimus explains, his thumb gently caressing your servo. "Would you... care for a little chat in my headquarters?"

You nod - Precious you. Perfect you.

Optimus feels his spark twirl, again. He hoped you liked the idea of living with him now. After all, if he wanted to court you properly to become a worthy Conjux, he needed to show you how much you meant to him. How much he loved you.

Don't worry - Optimus Prime will keep you safe. Away from any danger, away from anyone, away from the world.

Hehe I love Optimus Prime. o((>ω< ))o Vhaos out!

[plasticferal]

daddy chris and reader hate eachother but they accidentally take viagra and get horny and fuck 😜🤞🏼

chocolate | chris sturniolo.

this was such a unique concept to write so hopefully i did it justice. receiving oral, face sitting, daddy!kink so not for everyone, sorry. not proof read whoops. use of a sexual stimulant, explicit language. 18+ content. reader discretion is advised.

part two here.

your eyes grow heavy as you pull the blanket tighter around your body, head nodding drowsily onto the pillow you’ve stolen from chris’s room. matt is already asleep on the other side of the lounge, giving you your space. the moment you feel yourself completely give into your sleep, the weight of another body drops onto the lounge beside you, making your body jolt.

“move over.” you hear chris’s croaky and tired voice demand. 

if there’s anyone in this house to interrupt your sleep, of course it’s going to be chris. he’s functioning at absurd hours, never in his own bed, always on a mission to find someone else who’s awake to keep him occupied. the fact it’s him switches your mood instantly, and you're annoyed.

“chris, what are you doing?” you whine, rubbing your face, looking up through foggy vision.

“can’t sleep.” his waist is where your head is.

he adjusts his body on the lounge cushion so that your pillow is essentially on his lap, tucked beneath the pillow your head lays on. if he wasn't so tired, you'd be wary that he's about to suffocate you with it. he hunches into the cushion, and you're forced to sit up now that he's undone your comfort.

“i was just about to fall asleep, asshole." you sigh, picking yourself up.

you fluff the pillow and bring it with you, hugging it to your chest as you sit back, shoulder to shoulder with chris now, both your bodies slouching into the lounge. you push him off of you.

he turns to look at you, a slight shadow of his facial hair gracing his jawline, his hair fluffy sitting like storm clouds on his head, eyes squinting slightly from exhaustion.

"is that my pillow?" he asks, not even looking at the item in your hand. he just knows, and wants a reason to be difficult.

“god i hate you” you grind your teeth together, refusing to even put up a fight. 

you throw it at him, making sure it collides with his face as you do. chris swings the pillow in retaliation with a burst of energy and whips it against your shoulder, making you twist your face with anger and shove him.

chris's body drops back on the lounge and his brother stirs awake within seconds. matt looks pissed as he comes to, lifting his body up to see you and chris frozen and staring at him in anticipation. you're immediately guilt-ridden, hesitant to see what he has to say.

"fuckin', of course it's you two," he grumbles, stealing a blanket from the couch as he drags himself to his feet, wrapping it around his shoulders.

"sorry matty," you grimace, watching him as he aims for his bedroom.

"i'm going to bed, try not to kill each other." matt waves you both off, leaving you alone with chris in the semi-lit, silent room.

"nice one" chris teases, knowing how bad you'll be feeling having woken matt up, really rubbing salt into the wound.

"you're such a dick." you huff, scooting over to put a safe distance between you and chris. he blows a raspberry with thought, like a child. 

"i'm hungry" he sulks to himself, in an artless tone while he scratches his forearm.

"that sucks for you." you reply, completely untroubled, scrunching your face in an ‘i didn’t ask’ manner.

your body hasn't been able to find another comfortable position and it's making you grow more distressed with every passing moment. the lounge shifts again, making you blow air out through tight lips, an exhale that reads 'i'm trying to keep my cool', and chris knows that.

you can tell he's more than happy to get under your skin by the smug look on his face, regardless of how tired he claims to be. he always has energy to piss you off.

chris shuffles off the lounge and moves slowly, lazily into the kitchen. he stretches his arms above his head, forcing his faded grey shirt to lift ever so slightly, and his sweatpants are dangerously low on his waist. the plaid boxers peeking through have an expensive brand plastered on the elastic that clings to his hips. it makes you roll your eyes.

you watch curiously to see what midnight snack he manages to find, and when he locates a stash of chocolate from a funky, unique candy store that he and his brothers all visited, he's hit the jackpot. the kitchen is only illuminated by the downstairs light, but you can see enough to observe him pour the grocery bag out onto the dining table, rummaging through all the individually packaged sweets.

as much as chris isn't one to share, you try your luck and make your way over. he groans at the sight of you, in a way that's like he knew you would appear, but didn't want it to happen.

"relax, i'll take what you don't like so i don't have to hear you complain." you speak wearily, starting to shuffle through the chocolates yourself.

"here," he holds out a candy wrapped in a bright pink wrapper.

you observe it in your hands. it has the words 'nice and naughty' written on it in a bubble font, and you assume it's a play on words, based on the fact that the chocolate is half milk chocolate and half dark chocolate.

"where did you guys get these?" you cross your face, having it be a complete mystery to you. you glance up at chris who just shrugs with a downward smile as he's still trying to find one he fancies.

"some obscure candy store in boston" he acknowledges. you choke out a laugh, at his expense.

"define obscure, chris" you grill him.

"you want the candy or not?" he looks at you with the aim of redirecting your question.

you put your arms up in defense, a smile pulling your lips as you wave him off as if to say, go back to what you were doing. you can tell he's not pleased with anything he's sifting through, getting hot and bothered.

"they all look gross," chris tosses whatever he had picked up with a 'i give up' tone.

"give me half of yours." he speaks casually, reaching for the one he quite literally passed you. you snatch it away from him, making him grasp at air.

"it's cute that you think we're that close." you satirize. chris huffs through a raspberry blow with his lips.

chris moves his jaw side to side with thought before grabbing your hand quickly, unexpectedly, and pulling you to his body with one fast swift movement.he's hovering over you, a strong grip around your much smaller, delicate wrist, compared to his rough hand.

"this close enough for ya?" he smiles with his teeth, the tip of his tongue peaking out slightly through his canines.

the slight drop in his eyes, the small head tilt, and the way he's looking at you with an unfamiliar alluring stare. you're trying not to pay attention to the way the shadows on his skin showcase his gentle muscles, the way his white tank exposes his collarbones and barely noticeable chest hair that you can only focus on because you're face to chest.

you pull your hand away from him with a scoff and unwrap the chocolate, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking him in the eyes. you do yourself a favor, to shut him up, and snap it in half. you throw the wrapper on the table for the time being.

without saying a word, you hold it out for him to take, sparing him the dark chocolate side because you know he doesn't like it. he has a puzzled look on his face, as if you're trying to punish him, but you're not.

"thanks," he says, sounding more like a question than a statement.

you both take a bite from your chocolate at the same time, and make a displeased face in sync with each other.

"that tastes terrible" he thinks aloud. you agree with him, a rare occurrence. usually, he just complains for the sake of complaining, especially when he knows it's going to irk you.

"i don't mind it" you don't actually believe your own words, but you're trying to be optimistic.

“of course you like it, you're weird.” chris speaks, blatantly. 

you both finish the pieces off and chris licks his fingers, the residue of the slightly melted chocolate on his fingertips. you really can't help but watch as his cheeks sink in slightly and his lips wrap around his skin, making a small pop sound when he cleans his hand off.

chris chews obnoxiously loud, like the type of loud that usually sends matt into a fit. smacking his lips together, clicking his tongue on his teeth. despite it being such a small piece, he's eating it like there’s a whole pack of gum in his mouth.

"any louder and you'll wake up matt again" you speak, walking over to the sink to rinse your hands.

"any louder and you'll, shut up." he mocks your scolding before brushing you off and snapping the roof of his mouth with his tongue, to annoy you further.

“good comeback” you taunt with an eye roll, wiping the corner of your mouth clean.

you hear the crinkle of a wrapper and assume he's throwing it in the bin, but then he falls quiet, and you can sense his body is frozen.

"hey, y/n?" chris voice shifts into a serious tone, and you're not sure you've ever heard it before. not toward you at least.

“what?” you dry your hands quickly and skip back over to him, leaning over his shoulder to see what he's reading. your brain scatters with concern.

it could be expired, it could have an ingredient one of you is allergic to. it could be a dog treat for all you know, not like that would stop chris. his reaction gives little to nothing away.

chris straightens out the chocolate wrapper, holding it with both hands like you would hold an open book. you begin intently reading the small writing on the inside.

the black letters on the silver malleable foil reads, 'increases sex drive, enhances performance and stimulates blood flow. a nice treat for when you're feeling naughty'. your eyes almost pop out of your head.

snatching the wrapper from his hands, you need to make sure what you're seeing is correct. chris is rubbing his hands through his hair and you feel his shift in energy. he doesn't seem concerned, but he's not as composed.

"who the fuck packages sex chocolate like this?" your words are so harsh, and much louder than you need to be expressing.

"oh god don't say sex chocolate," chris covers his ears and hunches over as he paces around the living room, shaking his head like he's hearing something he's not supposed to.

"that's what it is!" you shake the wrapper in his face, letting out your frustrations onto him. you try to steady your emotions, and reaction, by simply throwing it in the bin.

chris shushes you with panic, knowing if his brother wakes up again, he's going to be the one that receives his wrath.

"who uses the word naughty on chocolate?" he matches your tone to a much less important piece of information.

"that's what you got from this?" your eyes feel like they could pop out of your head and you quickly shake it off, before you pass out from stress. he throws his arms up frenziedly.

“this is what i get for sharing my food” chris shakes his head, and all you want to do is slap it out of him. you crack your knuckles in frustration, inhaling at least a three second breath inward.

“it’s gonna be fine. it’s fine, just relax" you say with conviction, remembering to keep your voice down. 

chris stops pacing and is standing still, leaning against a dining chair with a drained look on his face, arms folded and holding onto his elbows.

“i think you’re stressing more than me” he’s suddenly at ease again, finding some zen in being able to fixate on your emotions and reaction rather than his own.

“you’re the reason for all my stress, christopher” you spit. which is true, even if by accident.

"so, what happens now?" he waves his arms up again, always expecting someone else to hold the answers to what he has to ask.

"we don't think about it, it probably doesn't work anyway." you gloss over his question

“and if it does work?” he pries. 

“you finally get to see a girl naked.” you tease with a flat look on your face, not looking at him while heading straight back to the couch that you don't plan on moving from again. 

your next intention is googling what the effects are about to be, trying not to expose your concern. chris will just use it against you. 

before you sit down, you hear chris swipe all of the chocolates into his arms and the metal clank of the bin opening and slamming shut. he moves quick, and knows the faster they're out of sight, they're out of mind.

the second you cuddle up again and pull your knees to your chest, you take your phone out to start investigating. chris follows your lead, and before you know it you're both silently tapping away at your phones, illuminating your focused faces.

all of your fatigue is now non-exist, and now you're wide awake with paranoia. or arousal. yet to be confirmed. it's evident that chris is in the same boat.

there's a long period of time where neither of you speak, and at some point chris had turned the t.v back on, volume low, filling in the white noise. whatever movie he started to play is about half way through when he finally speaks again, and for a second you were startled, forgetting about his presence. 

"why does matt get a nickname and i don't?" you can feel him looking at you, phone down. you exhale with contemplation and turn to him, wondering what triggered his question.

“huh?” you raise an eyebrow, his question coming out of the blue.

“just answer the question” he hurries his words.

“do you want a nickname?” you remark.

“i’m just saying, something other than asshole or dickhead might be nice for a change.” he sounds sassy through his words, and it does make you realize you've never approached him the same as you do his brothers.

admittedly, you've always assumed he can handle it. your words escape your mouth out of frustration most of the time. he's never been inherently bad toward you, he just knows how to say all the right things to piss you off.

“so you want me to call you, like, chrissy?” you try to match your nickname for matty and nicky, versions of their names you throw around more or less because chris hates it.

“mm, nah.” he scrunches his nose and shakes his head.

“how about like,” his words fall off with thought. chris smirks at you, a clear intrusive thought tempting his lips.

“daddy.” he blurts out, a slight croak in his suddenly deeper voice.

“you’re actually crazy if you think i’m calling you daddy" you emphasize the word sensually, but still impassively.

"what's crazy is that i didn't hate hearing you say it." he replies offhandedly.

you aren’t sure if it's a placebo effect or the aphrodisiac kicking in, but you flash back to chris tugging you toward his body, and suddenly you want to rewind, so you can throw yourself at him.

"do you think it's working?" you ask him with an outlandish desperate curiosity, aligning with the sudden shift in conversation.

“the freaky chocolate?” he asks, voice coarse and lightly croaky. you roll your eyes.

“no chris, the magic beans" your face drops to mirror the sarcasm seeping from your lips.

“i hate to break it to you but i think the chocolate is working” his shoulders jump with a small laugh. a devious laugh, like the next thought on his mind is one he has to hold back but can’t wait to say.

you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to go on. 

“is it?” you have to prompt him before the silence gets too tense.

“considering i wanna tear your clothes right now, i think it is." he's awfully calm.

"are you just saying that?" you ask brusquely.

"do you want me to prove it?" he shifts to sit up in his spot, rubbing his thighs as he waits for your response, on the edge of standing up.

"i want you to stop messing with me." as you finish your sentence, chris stands up and slowly, painfully slow, and begins to walk closer to where you lay.

"for once, i'm not. it's just giving me the confidence to admit what's running through my head."

"you can form your own thoughts?" you act surprised.

"yeah that's funny, kid" he brushes off your joke.

"well, go on. what's running through that head of yours?" you reel him back in, curious for him to express what's on his mind. 

he steps up to the edge of the couch.

"that you look really good right now," his eyes are slightly squinted, and his head gives a slow nod, like he's agreeing with himself.

"you always do, honestly." he bounces one shoulder, as if it's not at all a big deal that he's complimenting you. something he simply does not do. he’s better at demanding praise rather than giving it.  

chris stands over you, looking down at your body. your legs are arched and heels are on the couch cushion, slouching slightly. your heart race quickens. 

there’s a weird, foreign confidence tingling through you. you clench your core, feeling your breathing become tight at the thought of being touched in any way right now. chris has always been attractive, you’re not blind. you just don't see eye to eye. 

you've definitely had a few dirty dreams about him, and on top of that the bickering you two do, it gives you a little kick of adrenaline. you just actively choose not to make it easy on him, and have no intention of changing just because you’re getting turned on.

"good enough to be my next late night snack." his words have a playful undertone, but the look in his eyes is serious, and hungry, and he leans down further.

"that doesn’t turn me on." you deride. 

“then i’ll keep talking until something does” his eyes widen slightly, like he’s daring himself with his prompt.

“is talking and eating all that mouth is good for?” the pure look you're giving him up through doe eyes, is making the smallest grin tug at his plump, peachy lips. all these little details about him that are being accentuated.

“eating, yeah” chris arches his body down, wrapping a hand around the back of the couch near your head and he casts a complete shadow over you. you shake your head with a disapproving attitude at his terrible frat boy attempt in dirty talk. 

“actions speak louder than words” you reply seductively. 

“is that an invite?” he gives a crooked smile and a head tilt, narrowing his eyes. 

“fortunately for you, it is.” giving him the green light, you part your legs open, luring him in.

the silk pyjama shorts you have on riding up to the crease of your hips, and the fact you're not wearing any underwear makes the experience all the more exciting. chris shuffles on his knees between your legs.

his hand makes contact with your skin, making you hot. he slides his touch from your knee, up your thigh and finally to your waistband. at the same time, he leans in, tilting to the left while you naturally find yourself leaning to the right.

"i really wanna taste you" his voice is dark, but sweet, and your lips brush his before finally pressing hard together.

you feel your body ease instantly to your own surprise, and the kiss is almost perfectly orient. he dominates your bottom lip, grazing over it with his tongue. 

there’s not a thought or care in the world from either of you. like there will be no repercussions after this, even though you're sure there will be. earlier in the night you were arguing over a pillow, and now, you’re fighting for dominance in a passionate makeout.

he juts further into your body with his hips, throwing your one leg he has in his hand over his waist, and you take the initiative to completely engulf his lower half. your heels dig into his lower back and pull him closer until his dick presses into your cunt.

the dark room and baggy sweats deceive you, his prominent boner pressing into you, making you moan into the kiss. his dick is already struggling to comfortably arch into your heat, restricted because of his clothes but also because his length clearly requires more room.

he immerses himself in your lips with the kiss, losing his composure and humming lowly with pleasure. your hands tangle into his hair, gripping his head and taking control of the kiss, bopping your heads in rhythm and chasing each other's mouths.

chris's hips grind down into you and you feel yourself become more needy, pushing up into him, to meet him where you both crave friction the most.

the grasp he has on your shorts loosens the moment he tugs them down. you thrust upward, levitating off the couch while still secure around his body to help him shuffle them off. the moment his eyes fixate on your naked heat, his jaw slacks open.

"wasn't expecting that" his voice shakes slightly, barely above a whisper.

“i don’t think either of us were expecting this” you get a little ego boost from how engrossed he is, and you give your hips a little wriggle to finally release from your shorts. 

“you’re right” chris tosses your shorts to the side with a chuckle at your words.

“i usually am” you blush, and he rolls his eyes.

his hands are dancing all over your legs, embracing how smooth they are, and the smell of your scented lotion. he's exploring every inch of you. feeling his hands stroke up your thigh, your hands start to tingle and your head starts to spin.

"you said you wanna taste me, right?" you snap his eyes back up to yours, and he trails his lips with his tongue, adding a pleading nod.

"go ahead, chrissy." you flaunt the pet name, knowing it's not what he wants to hear. he exhales a smile, but shakes his head with dejection.

“if this is gonna happen, i'm gonna need you to use another word.” he orders.

"you want me to call you baby?" you feign ignorance, feeling like you only temporarily have this leverage over him.

chris's face changes quickly from a naive, compliant stare, to a more serious one.

"hey, don't be smart," he grabs your jaw, giving you a squeeze. your sudden desire to be a smart mouth escapes in one swift breath, letting his grip tighten.

"i'll make you feel good, y/n" he pulls your face closer. 

you're willing to completely cave, and in the back of your mind you're convinced it's that dreadful chocolate's fault.

"just say it." he demands. your stomach flutters, a cold chill swirling through it.

the word is dancing on the tip of your tongue, but your stubbornness when it comes to chris has you struggling to spit it out. the dynamic has completely shifted, and at this point you're just delaying time.

it's almost like he knows your tactic, and strategically rolls his hips into you hard, making sure you feel his long hard cock against your cunt, shamelessly getting your wetness all over his sweatpants.

"daddy" you gasp against his open mouth, finally let it spill from your mouth, spiteing yourself for giving in to his dominance.

“good girl.” he smirks, pulling your face to his to slam a rough kiss together. your stomach knots at the sound of his gravelly voice.

you’re chasing him with your lips, a whine escaping as he pulls back, forcing you to tilt your head to the side. messily he begins kissing down your cheek, jaw, chin, neck. making his way further down your throat with his lips until he passes your collar bone, tugging and tearing at your shirt to meet your skin.

your body is arching into his and you’re trying to grasp at his hair, following his movements. watching and feeling him devour your skin with hungry kisses.

“so soft,” he mumbles against your lower stomach, just below your belly button.

“so sweet.” he praises, licking his lips before he grabs your knees, steadying himself at your heat. 

his face is situated between your thighs, but his hand is still on your face. he squeezes and grabs at your face, two fingers pushing into your mouth. you moan and take them across your tongue, wrapping your lips around his thick, warm fingers. 

wrapping your hand around his wrist, you tighten your grip when you feel chris’s mouth attach to your pussy, open and tongue flat against your folds. closing his mouth onto you, he sharpens his tongue and lets it flick side to side at a fast, aggressive pace. he’s letting pleasure-filled sounds escape from his mouth, humming and huffing when he needs to catch his breath.

“f-fuck, oh my god,” you throw your head back, pulling his fingers out of your mouth to speak but letting his hand fall to your chest. 

the feeling of him shaking his tongue so passionately against your cunt is making you need to hold your breath, to stop yourself from being loud. you feel yourself grow a more thick wetness between your legs, and his tongue scoops into your opening, swallowing every taste he can pick up.

“chris, chris, sh-shit” your voice trembles in a hushed tone, feeling a mix of overwhelming delight and panic of the reality of everything hitting you suddenly.

“what was that?” he pulls away for a second, asking with tease. his hand grabs your throat but his mouth is still eating you with desire, sucking and licking every inch he can travel over. 

“i’m not saying it again” you almost want to laugh, exhaling and twisting your face as you feel him wave over your clit, your body reacting by thrusting into his face. 

“oh you will” chris speaks smug, the tip of his nose taking over the pressure on your clit and he uses it to his advantage, keeping it there but simultaneously circling his tongue around and around just below your hood. 

suddenly, chris hooks his hands on the underside of both your knees, forcing you to flip over as he turns his body. his ass is planted on the floor, his back is pressed to the couch, and you’re straddling his face now. his head is resting on the couch cushion looking up, and you’re able to support yourself on your hands and knees, looking down.

chris groans into your pussy. his hands, firm, strong hands, grab your buttocks and drag you down onto his waiting mouth. you brace yourself against the armrest of the couch. when you look down, you gaze upon chris’s closed eyes, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, hair already a mess from where your thighs are messing it up. you add your hand to his scalp, lightly scratching and pulling.

“f-fuck, that feels good, s’good”, you whine, biting your hand to try and drown them out, while his tongue draws patterns into you, his nose still utter perfection against your clit. 

“you like this, huh? fucking my face with this pretty fucking pussy” his voice is so strained and laced with filth.

stifling your thrusts and thirsty grinds on his face is not an option, and you know that chris is taking some pride in receiving all of your wanton movements and paving them into a road of an earth-shattering orgasm. 

his hands don’t hold still, continually roaming your hot flesh, sometimes pressing you further into his face, sometimes dragging you away, always aiming for your best stimulation. his occasional moans vibrate your very core, making your pussy pulse with pleasure.

“more, more, more”, you beg breathlessly, and he gives it to you, but not without slapping a hard firm whip to your ass with the palm of his hand. 

“more, what?” he growls, smacking his lips together and swallowing your flavors.

“fuck you.” you groan.

“something you won’t get to do if you don’t start behaving” chris fully detaches his mouth from your dripping pussy and you try with all your efforts to roll into his face, to regain some friction. 

chris pulls back, and slaps your ass again hard. you wince, but more at the fact of how loud the impact is. the last thing you want is to wake anyone else up, especially in this position.

“more, daddy. fuck” you beg, still refusing to use manners. you’re both equally putting up a fight. with that, he gives it to you until your legs shake and your abs are tight. you are so, so close to coming, and you finally, blissfully do when chris’s tongue laps at your clit in just the right way.

“better.” you feel him smile against your pussy, as he then bites your inner thigh quickly. your orgasm draws much louder than you intended, hoarse groans out of you that eventually peter out into whimpers. 

chris doesn’t stop licking you, making your legs shake in the air. he only slows down and is as gentle as your sensitive clit needs after his hungry attack. you feel ready to collapse, so you carefully shimmy off his body, dropping backwards onto the lounge, feeling your skin sticky and sweaty. 

he follows you, clawing his way up the lounge to follow your body. he’s panting, wiping his mouth clean but staring down at his hands, admiring the glistening cum you’ve lathered his chin, cheeks and lips with. chris drops next to you, shoulder to shoulder. for once, you don’t want to push him away from you. you can hear his thundering heartbeat. you can feel his still hard cock against your ass.

“we should probably,” you’re trying to catch your breath as you speak, taking a moment.

“-should probably do something about that” you lazily point to his crotch, making him look down and gain a double chin as he notices what you’re mentioning. 

“you mean before the effects wear off?” chris huffs a laugh. you turn over to rest your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. 

“i mean before you start complaining about it” you reply jocosely, and he rests both of his hands behind his head.

“i’ve got nothing to complain about right now. not with the taste of you still on my tongue” he sounds genuine, like he’s still reminiscing about the act of eating you out.

“i’ve still got the taste of the chocolate lingering” you frown.

“we can fix that” chris turns into you, resting a hand on your waist. you take the prompt before he continues, and pull yourself onto his lap, straddling his thighs. 

you lower your face toward his chest, shuffling further down his lap while obtaining eye contact and watch as chris’ breath hitches. he bucks his hips forward lightly, making you bounce, and the way your tits react to the movement has him drooling.

he breathes out heavy through his nose, licking his lips and watching as you slide down toward his cock.

“my turn.”

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Small Injury » Tyler Owens

Pairings: Boyfriend!Tyler Owens x Girlfriend!Reader with Kate and Javi

Summary: You get a minor injury from a tornado.

Warnings: Fluff, language, small injuries, blood, kissing, pet names

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

The wind was picking up quickly. Rain began to pour down. You, Tyler, Kate, and Javi managed to get everyone your guys saw to safety. While Tyler, Kate, and Javi were running to a building for safety, you seen a woman across the street with her dog. You ran over to her and helped her.

“Come with me!” You tell her.

The woman nodded frantically and held her dog for the life of her. You managed to get her and her dog in a nearby building with ease. As you were running back across to the building Tyler, Kate, and Javi are in, something sharp hit your hand. You didn’t bother checking your hand. You were too focused on finding somewhere safe to wait out the tornado.

“Where’s Y/N?!” Tyler asks, looking all over the place for you.

“I thought she was behind you!” Javi said.

Tyler looked around the room again, but couldn’t find you. He ran to the emergency exit door and opened it. He cautiously poked his head out of the building, looking for you.

“Y/N!” Tyler yells out for you.

You swore you faintly heard Tyler’s voice over the storm. You thought about running out of the alley you found to go to the building your boyfriend is in, but it’s too dangerous to at the moment. You found a place to wait out the tornado in an alley. You held onto a metal pole with all of your strength. Tyler was almost on full panic most. He was about to run out into the tornado to look for you, but Javi and Kate held him back.

“Are you fucking crazy?! You’re going to get hurt if you go out there!” Javi says.

“Y/N is out there somewhere and could possibly be hurt!” Tyler says on the verge of tears.

“I know you want to help her, Tyler. I’m sure she found somewhere safe to wait it out.” Kate says, trying to lighten up the mood.

“We’ll help you find her when it’s over.” Javi promises, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Tyler stared outside, knowing Javi and Kate are right. He closed the door with their help and found something to hold onto. The tornado pasted the building they’re in quickly. It then pasted the alley you’re in. Your breathing picked up. You never realized how scary tornados are up close.

After what it seemed like forever, the tornado finally pasted. Tyler got up from his place on the floor and ran out of the emergency exit door with Kate and Javi following behind him. Tyler looked everywhere for you with help from Javi and Kate. He felt himself about to panic again.

“Where is she?!” Tyler asks frantically.

You slowly let go of the metal pole you were holding onto during the tornado and cautiously poked your head out of the alley, making sure it’s safe to come out, in which it was. You walked out of the alley, looking around for Tyler, Kate, and Javi.

“Tyler, she’s over here!” Kate says from the right of you a few feet away.

Tyler looked over at you. He ran as fast as he could over to you, almost accidentally running into Kate. Tyler hugged you tightly, picking you up in the process. He let out a breath of relief.

“Where was she?” Javi asks Kate.

“I seen her come out of the alley.” She answers, pointing at the alley you were just in.

Your clothes were soaked from the rain, but you couldn’t care less. You were too happy and relieved to be in your boyfriend’s arms. Tyler gently put you back on your feet and kissed you passionately. Your hands grabbed onto his wet button up shirt, clutching the fabric in your hands tightly.

“I was so scared. I thought I lost you forever.” Tyler says, leaning his forehead against your forehead.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, feeling bad. “I saw a woman with a dog and helped them find safety.” You explained. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” You say apologetically.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, darling. You just trying to help someone.” He says.

Tyler caught a glimpse of your left hand, seeing blood on the back of it.

“You’re bleeding.” Tyler points out.

You let go of Tyler’s shirt to look at your hand.

“Oh.” Your eyes widened when you seen the blood on almost half of your hand. “I think something hit me. I don’t remember.” You say.

“Let’s get your hand cleaned up.” He says.

You nodded. Tyler wrapped his arm around your waist and you two walked to his truck. He opened the passenger’s door and you hopped in. Tyler leaned over you to get the travel sized first aid kit out of the center console. Kate and Javi walked up to the truck, seeing blood on your hand.

“Are you ok?” Kate asks with concern in her voice.

“Yes.” You nodded. “I cut my hand on something when I was trying to find safety from the tornado.” You tell her and Javi.

Tyler cleaned the excess blood off of your hand, revealing a cut that was small, but didn’t need stitches.

“I’m not a doctor, but you don’t need stitches.” Tyler says.

Tyler cleaned it the best he could before getting a bandaid out of the first aid kit.

“I want this one.” You say, pointing at a Captain America bandaid.

“Captain America, really?” Javi says with a small laugh.

“He’s cool!” You say, playfully narrowing your eyes at him.

“She has a point.” Kate says, agreeing with you.

“So you’re a Marvel fan, baby?” Tyler asks as he opens the bandaid.

“That’s all I watch when you’re out of town.” You say with a grin.

“You better keep an eye out, man.” Javi said. “Captain America might steal your cowgirl.” He jokingly says.

“Not on my watch.” Tyler says.

You and Kate couldn’t help but laugh when they said that. Tyler put the Captain America bandaid on your hand and kissed your hand over the bandaid. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Thank you, Ty.” You smiled up at your boyfriend. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” You apologized again.

“I said you have nothing to apologize for.” He repeats his words from a short moment ago. “You were helping someone. Thats understandable. If our roles were reversed, I would’ve done the same thing.” He says.

You leaned forward and kissed Tyler sweetly.

“I love you so much, honey.” Tyler says against your lips.

“I love you more, cowboy.” You say, smiling against his lips.

Kate and Javi smiled at the cute boyfriend and girlfriend moment happening in front of them.

“How long are they going to kiss? They have to come up for air sometime.” Javi says.

Kate elbowed Javi’s arm to get him to shut up. He looked at her and glared at her as he rubbed the part of his arm she elbowed.

“I’m so happy you’re alright.” Tyler says, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I’m so happy you’re alright.” You looked deep in his eyes. “You guys too.” You say to Kate and Javi.

Kate and Javi put a comforting hand on your knees and smiled at you.

“Cowboy here wanted to run out in the tornado to look for you, but we held him back.” Javi tells you.

“I was worried and scared for my girlfriend!” Tyler exclaims.

You giggled softly and hopped out of the truck. You gave Tyler another hug and then gave Kate and Javi one.

“Don’t do that to us again.” Kate says, hugging you tightly.

“I won’t. I promise.” You say promisingly.

🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️

Glen Powell characters tag: @cevansbaby-dove

-Bucky’s Doll

[nuemanfilms]

innocent, taken by a cowboy — Sam Winchester

Content pwp, corruption kink, innocence, purity rings, soft dom!sam, cowboy!au, virgin!reader, praise, mentions of Sheriff!Dean, piv, unprotected, mentions of oral (f!recieving)

- Summary save a horse ride a cowboy

Sam winchester groaned above you as he felt you buck your hips up to meet his hips. His cock demanding entry into your tight heat. He was holding back though. Afraid he might break you.

You wore white. Your bra, your panties, white. White, a sign of purity. And you were letting the man take it away from you. He would then delicately slide the ring off your finger with your consent.

He was hesitant, after all, he could’ve gotten killed for this. Even though his brother was the sheriff, he wouldn’t be able to save him from this. If your father knew.. knew what Sam was about to do to you, he’d never seen sunrise again.

“You sure you’re ready for this, Sweetheart?” His expression was a mix of hunger and restraint as he looked down at you, wanting to make sure you were absolutely sure.

You nodded, but that wasn’t what Sam wanted, he wanted words.

“Yes, I’m sure, Sam. Please.” You said, you were admiring the man infront of you, the man you met only a few days ago. The man you shared your first kiss with.

Sam could feel the sweet plea fall from your lips against his neck. The desperate need in your voice for him, and he knew he couldn’t keep you waiting any longer.

His touch on your thighs was tender, he rubbed his tip up and down your slick entrance. Finally pushing past your entry.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. To soothe your worry and ease you into the mood. He was big, there was no doubt. You were sure you could feel him in your tummy when he bottomed out.

But that felt so good only a few moments later.

The kiss was soft, yet quickly grew more passionate. Your lips were sloppy against his, but he didn’t mind it one bit. Not when your plush lips were against his own.

The desire built inside him, and when he pulled away to lean his forehead against your own.. you finally nodded. Granting him consent.

“You can move.”

He rocked his hips slowly, carefully. He was afraid he’d hurt you, but your small whimpers encouraged him to give you what you craved hours ago.

“You’re so perfect, Darlin’..” He groaned, you nodded into his neck. Your nails grazing his back.

His hands gripped your hips, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to let you know who was taking care of you.

This wasn’t sex. This was love. He was making love to you. And it felt like the best thing in the world.

“Faster, Sammy..” and he gladly obliged. Moving his hips in a steady rhythm as his cock prodded at your sweet spot. Your moans were like a melody, a song to his ears. He could sense you were getting close.

The sound of skin against skin filled the room, along with your almost sinful moans. He was happy to know he was providing you this pleasure.

He gently thumbed at your clit, you moaned louder. A cry of pleasure escaping your mouth.

“‘M gonna cum, Sam. Please, make me yours..” You gave him a plea for him to come inside of you, to claim you for his own. And he was happy to accept.

“Cum for me, Sweet girl.. you’re perfect, perfect for me.” And that you did. Crying out in ecstasy as your bodies conjoined into one last embrace.

It was pure pleasure.

[melobin]

cockwarming with riize ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

minors dni. @cupidslovearrows hehe enjoy <3

shotaro

shotaro can handle cockwarming, but he doesn’t necessarily like it. he has to be in the mood for it and the majority of the time he isn’t. he likes to be able to move when he’s inside of you, wants to be able to fuck you instead of sitting still. there are the rare occasions he likes it and those tend to be after sex, especially when he’s had a more tiring, draining day. the thought of curling up with you, fucking you slowly whilst making out and then falling asleep being stuffed inside of you is a dream to him. plus, you both wake up needing one another again after so the thinks that’s an added bonus. if you tried to tease him with it, he’d entertain you for a while. letting you play with him until he cannot do it anymore, wouldn’t be afraid to beg quietly in your ear, sweet talking you in a whiny voice about how good you feel when you’re sucking in his cock and how hard you make him cum. knows exactly what to say to you to get you to ride him the way he wants.

eunseok

eunseok would be horrible, to you at least. he has the self restraint to sit with you on his cock for hours, and he’ll do so until you break and beg for him to fuck too. cockwarming isn’t a gentle nor comforting thing with eunseok, it’s borderline a punishment. he just wants to see how long you can last with him stuffed inside of you, stilled. it doesn’t stop when you beg for him to fuck you either, he won’t touch you properly until he’s taunted you. needs to tease you about being so desperate that you have to beg for him to fuck you, so cock hungry that all you can think about is being used by him and filled with him cum. makes sure to say it all lowly in your ear whilst holding you down on his cock, maybe sneaking a hand down to rub slow circles on your clit whilst he does so. makes you fuck yourself on his cock after since you were so needy for it.

sungchan

sungchan cannot handle it at all. he tries, he really does try, but he can’t. whether it’s before or after sex, just the feeling of your warm cunt squeezing around his cock turns him on far too much for him to be able to simply just sit still. if it’s you teasing him, he ends up whining into your neck about how and he needs you to move, needs to feel you fucking yourself on his cock more than anything and he wouldn’t be afraid of begging for it. whines when you tease him about not being able to last too, he’s too sensitive about it. if it’s him teasing you, it won’t last more than thirty seconds even if he’s trying his hardest. he’s just so obsessed with how you feel wrapped around him that he needs to fuck you, ends up fucking you with his head buried in your neck and his fingers gripping the sheets beside your head. usually ends up cumming more than one during those nights too.

wonbin

wonbin is a hit or miss, mainly a miss. whilst he can last, he cannot last long. he tries his hardest but he fails, his will power is not strong enough to deal with you being still whilst hugging his cock. it gets worse if you move at all, any sudden movement has his hands digging into your waist and his heart rate picking up. he’d be letting out shaky breaths whilst he tries to calm himself down but ultimately it fails, would end up fucking you on his cock whilst basking in the way your cunt sobs around his cock. those would be the nights where he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from completely ruining you, just needs to hear you crying out again and again about how good he makes you. if you were to cockwarm him, then he’d be a complete wreck. any form of eye contact would ruin him, if you kissed him then he’d end up whimpering into the kiss, begging quietly with little pleads for you to do something, anything. gets so sweet and thankful when you do, whimpering about how good you feel whilst you milk him with your cunt.

seunghan

seunghan actually adores cockwarming, it’s one of his favourite things to do with you. he’s quite good at separating cockwarming from sex and he often sees it as an act of comfort rather than an act of pleasure or teasing. he just thinks there’s nothing more comforting than laying with you, being able to feel each and every inch of you, inside and out. wants your bare body pressed against his, with your hands on his skin and his cock pressed deep inside of you. despite the comfort of it, he does find it incredibly endearing if you do end up getting needy from it and he’s always happy to fuck you. thrusting slowly up into you whilst keeping you pressed against him and whispering sweet things to you. he’ll want to continue cockwarming after you’ve had sex, just can’t bare to not feel you wrapped around him.

sohee

sohee is a wreck from start to finish. to him, cockwarming is a punishment he absolutely doesn’t want to receive. he likes to think he’s a well mannered, put together man but cockwarming changes all of that. he just can’t do it, the moment he sinks into your heat all he wants to do is pull out and sink back in over and over again, the idea of pushing into you and not moving bothers him deeply. he’s tried it with you before, purely out of curiosity, and he hated it. he blames you, your cunt is just far too tempting for him to be able to keep still when inside of you. it’s just so wet and warm and inviting that he needs to be able to fuck you as soon as he’s pushing into you and he just cannot stay still. his impatience is endearing in a way, especially because of how flushed and pouty he gets when you don’t move.

anton

anton actually has a lot of self restraint and will power, years of swimming taught him how to control his body and it’s incredibly useful in all situations. however, being stuffed inside your cunt and being unable to move is not one of them. cockwarming came about because you wanted to play a game to see who could go the longest without moving and anton wanted to entertain you, he also really wanted to win, he just underestimated his ability to be able to hold himself back when it comes to you. hint, he lost. he did find there to be some aspects of comfort and a lot of warmth with it, but he feeling of his cock throbbing with your walls tightly hugging him overpowered the comfort a lot and made it almost painful for him. if he’s hard to the point it hurts, then he knows he needs to fuck you and that’s how he ended up during cockwarming.

[notakugelblitz]

FERNANDO • Five Hargreeves x Reader

as everyone seems so sad since the release of season 4, i thought this could help :’)

it takes place during season 3, during Luther and Sloane’s wedding. as you spend your last moments with your siblings in law, you start to have some regrets about the life you could have had with Five.

NO WARNING, all fluff 😊 2341 words

i got inspired by ABBA’s song Fernando and it’s so Five x Y/N related I love it (well this is how I interpret it)

english isn’t my first language so sorry if you spot any mistake

enjoy ☂️

It was only a matter of hours now. You were all staying at the Hotel Oblivion, the last survivors. The Kugelblitz was growing and yet, Sloane and Luther had decided to marry.

While the boys were having a bachelor party before the ceremony, you were wandering the corridors aimlessly.

Ever since you arrived in 2019 with Five, his family quickly became yours. They welcomed you so warmly and trying to save the world twice clearly forged something big. But when you met the Sparrows, the hate that they felt against them seemed rather excessive (apart from Luther of course). Probably due to your age, you felt more mature about it. Seeing Sloane and Ben loosing all of their family pained you grandly.

You even found in Luther’s future wife a friend, which was a surprise but you enjoyed her kindness quite much. Your feet led you to Sloane’s room so unhesitatingly you knocked at her door which was half opened. She answered and smiled as she spotted you.

“Y/N ! Come in !” Sloane said to you, her soon-to-be former Sparrow Academy sister, in a cheerful fashion as she closed the door behind her.

Then she turned to face her once the door was firmly shut. You smiled, noticing the dress Sloane was sewing herself.

“It looks flawless.” you said, pointing at the white dress laying on the bed.

Sloane smiled gently at your comment and walked over to it, caressing the dress lovingly with her hand.

“Thank you … I just hope it fits me.”

“I’m sure it will. Nothing you wear unfits you.”

You chuckled a bit falsely, feeling a pain in your heart but yet you managed to smile. It was the best day of Sloane's life, and probably her last, after all.

She seemed to notice the sadness in your eyes and immediately became concerned as she took a closer look at you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong ? You look … sad.”

You sighed and grabbed a vase, sitting on the chair as you took the flowers out of it. You started to tie the stems altogether to create a crown.

“I am not sad. I am just … seeing you all excited for your wedding … I’ve been there too … ” you let out.

Sloane smiled and sat down on the bed opposite you, watching you make a crown out of the vase’s contents.

“Yes, I am but … I get the impression that you didn’t enjoy yours ?” she said slowly, a hint of suspicion in her voice as she tried to make sense of your comment.

“Oh no, I loved it !” you exclaimed suddenly. “I had the most wonderful wedding. And I believe yours will be just as perfect.”

She smiled genuinely as she heard you say that you enjoyed your wedding.

“Well … I’m relieved to hear that ! For a moment, I thought you’d been married to an arsehole or something !”

“Five is an arsehole indeed, but he is a great man, I can assure you.” you laughed.

You then approached her to check the size of the crown on her head.

“There.”

Sloane smiled as you placed the flower crown on her head carefully. Feeling the weight of it, she looked in the mirror, gently caressing the flowers and admiring the work that had been done on it.

“Thank you, Y/N. It’s beautiful …”

You looked at Sloane’s reflection and surprised yourself with a sort of mothering smile. It suddenly brought you nostalgia and sadness at the same time. Sloane checked over her shoulder, noticing your change of mood, a look of concern once again present on her face.

“Y/N … are you sure you’re okay ?”

You pinched your nose and sighed, trying to avoid some tears from falling. You couldn’t believe how weak your were but the tiredness and the end of the world wasn’t making it easy.

“Five and I married when we were 56. Secretly, as it was forbidden by the … by our employers,” you started to explain.

You checked on her, wanting to know if she was ok with you opening up like this. Her eyes saying like “Go on, I’m listening.” and her hand grabbing yours relieved you suddenly.

“I am 58 now. I just wish I had met him sooner …”

You looked down at your feet. It might sound weird for Sloane as you also had the appearance of a teenager. But still she kept holding your hand, gently rubbing the back of it with her thumb as you spoke, trying to give comfort in any way she could.

“Is that why you’re sad ? Because you wished you’d had more time with Five ?”

“When we got back here, we thought of a well-deserved retirement..” you sighed deeply. “But then he decided to save the world again because he’s addicted to it. And I wouldn’t blame him for that, he spent his life doing so. I just …”

You bit your lips, looking down at her hands, young and soft.

“And you just … want to be able to grow old with him … like normal people who marry and have a family …”

You looked up at Sloane, surprised that she’d understand that easily. You slightly opened your mouth because of the astonishment but shook your head.

“I know that everyone expect me to say that I have no regrets because I had time, unlike you … no offense of course. But coming back in 2019, both of us teenagers again, I thought … it sounds stupid, but I thought we had another chance, you know ? To grow old normally, without any Commission nor Kugelblitz.”

“I get that … you feel like you’ve been robbed.”

You nodded and looked up at her, cupping her cheek with your free hand.

“I shouldn’t bother you with that. Let’s enjoy this night, shall we?”

Sloane seemed to freeze.

“Would you like to be my maid of honour ?” she lets out suddenly.

You arched an eyebrow and smirked.

“I mean … you’re the only friend I’ve got here and … Ben is a dumbass. And a boy.”

“Yeah right … I’d be honoured.” you chuckled.

Without warning, Sloane hugged you tightly, resting her chin upon your shoulder. This felt good actually, and you got a bit moved knowing that you both needed it. At this moment Sloane’s wedding became your last most important mission. You wanted to ensure that it’ll be the night of her life and all the happiness she could feel, the same you felt back then, shan’t be disturbed.

• • •

The Hotel Oblivion had never been as beautiful as it was now, with the Hargreeves being the last survivors on earth. Celebrating a wedding a day before the end of the world had something rather beautiful.

You were standing by the aisle, beside Sloane, as you were her maid of honor. You looked at her and Luther with a kind of nostalgia, smiling a bit sadly while Klaus was pronouncing some vows.

As Klaus’s speech continued, Five kept his eyes on you. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia himself as he took in the moment. All the people he loved most were here with him, yet he knew deep down that these would be the last moments they’d get to spend together like this. The thought was more than a little concerning to him, and the hand holding his glass subconsciously clenched into a fist.

At the end of the ceremony, everyone went their separate ways, some dancing on the dance floor, some at the buffet. You headed directly to the bar where all the alcohol was, serving yourself a glass of whisky with the same nostalgia and sadness in your eyes.

Even though you had moved to the bar, it was as if Five’s eyes had never once left you. So he grabbed another glass and joined you at the bar.

“Are you just planning on staying here all night ?” he asked, taking a seat next to you.

Just by his tone, it seemed as if he was trying to hide his concern under his usual snarky demeanor.

“Aren’t you ?” you asked, pouring some whisky into his glass.

You sighed and lifted your glass to raise a toast with him, your smile a bit off. Five raised his glass as well, clinking it against yours.

“You’ve got a point there.”

He took a rather large gulp of the drink before setting the glass down. Five glances at you as a look of concern crossed his face again.

“You’ve got that look on your face. You alright ?”

You sighed and drank your glass bottoms up, then filled it up again. You then turned to see Sloane and Luther dancing happily.

“Do you have any regrets ?” you asked monotonously. “I mean… we never had the time to really enjoy a happy married couple life, you know ?”

He turned his head towards you and raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Are you being serious right now ?” he quipped.

“That’s what you’re worried about ? Really ?”

“Did we, Five ?” you asked, looking right at him with pain in your eyes. “I mean, yes, we got married, but for what ? Working two years at the Commission with your name after mine and then coming back in 2019 to save the world and have no fucking break.”

You sighed and drank your glass again, bottoms up, not disturbed by the strength of the alcohol.

He sighed, running a hand down his face as he spoke.

“That … that’s not a very fair question. It’s not as if we could’ve helped it.” he started off, trying to reassure you as he picked up his glass and swirled the alcohol around. “Things just happened that we had to deal with. Like you said, we were more focused on stopping the apocalypse than ... anything normal couples would usually do.”

“I dreamt of a retirement, Five. I truly did,” you let out. “Reappearing here with damn teenage appearances, I… I thought we had a second chance, you know ? Having a whole life for ourselves. But no.”

You sniffed and poured yourself another glass. A look of hurt and concern spread across his face even more at this. He knew how badly you had wanted to experience life like every normal people did and all that came with it, and seeing you admit how disappointed you were … it was crushing for him.

He put his hand on your shoulder, gently squeezing it as he tried to find the right words to say to console you.

“You know it’s not too late, right ?” he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

“We only have a day left, Five. Don’t mock me.”

He grabbed you by both shoulders and turned you to face him, gripping them tight.

“I am not.” he said defensively, his voice regaining its hard, blunt tone. “You’d know that if you’d just listen to me for a minute. What I’m trying to say is … you want to experience being a normal, young adult ? Fine. Well, there’s nothing stopping us now, is there ? So stop sulking and start enjoying this while it lasts.”

You looked at him with surprised eyes, rather shocked by what he said. You didn’t have the words, mouth slightly open. The music stopped and another song started : "Fernando" by ABBA. You felt shivers down your spine hearing it. It was the song that played during your first dance … well, it played on the car radio, and you danced somewhere on the side of the road on your way back from your little clandestine marriage back in 1977.

As soon as he heard the opening beats of this special song, he couldn’t help but smirk and internally snicker, already anticipating his next move. He grabbed your hand with a slightly tight grip and started to pull you to the dance floor.

“Five, what are you doing ?” you gasped, leaving your glass on the table.

You were still a bit shocked but let him pull you anyway.

“Oh my ! Five is going to dance !” Lila exclaimed.

“Awwwww, that is way too cuuuuute !” Klaus chuckled.

“Gross.” Ben added.

Five glared at the others as he dragged you towards the dance floor, ignoring their teasing. However, the death glare changed back into a smirk once he got onto the dance floor and pulled you into his arms.

“Just shut up and dance with me,” he quipped.

“But you never dance …” you whispered.

But you didn’t say a word when he placed your hands on his shoulder and in his palm.

“You’ve been wanting to have your time to enjoy yourself as a married couple, right ?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “So then … why not spend our last night doing exactly that ?”

You huffed, touched by his words. It seemed like the end of the world had opened his eyes somehow, and enjoying every last minute with the people he loved felt more important now, ever since he met his old version saying that he shouldn’t save the world and all that awful stuff …

You smiled at him widely.

“Thank you …” you almost whispered.

His heart felt both heavy and warm at your words. Heavy in the fact that he was suddenly very aware of how limited their time was … but warm in the fact that it seemed like you’d finally come back to your senses.

“Save your thanks and enjoy yourself for the night, okay ?” he replied quietly, a small smirk on his lips. “The only reason I’m doing this is so you’ll stop moping and complaining, just so you know.”

“Yeah, right.”

You chuckled, knowing that he was doing it for himself too.

“Though we never thought that we could lose, there's no regret.” you quietly hummed along.

Five spun you around, and he couldn’t help but laugh a bit, enjoying himself much more than he thought he would. Seeing him smile like this, being truly happy after a long time, moved you a bit. Those dimples, his glimmering eyes …

As you hummed to the lyrics of the song, the smirk on his face widened, and he began to sing along.

"If I had to do the same again, I would, my friend, Fernando."