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gumified · 6 months ago

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PRICE TO PAY

pairing: god!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary: you had prayed and prayed for the drought to finally end, for the village to finally be granted rain, so when meeting one of the gods you strike a deal and pay the price.

content: 4.4k, smut, pwp, big dick!gojo, virgin!reader, praise, degradation, dirty talk, cunnilingus (fem. receiving), ice play, bondage, gagging, fingering, squirting, orgasm control, overstimulation, public but also not public sex

note: have fun :D

The heat beat down on your face as you walked up the hill, buckets of water straining your shoulders. Your throat was parched and you were drenched in sweat. You were so thirsty it was unbearable. It had been months since the last rain and the nearest stream was miles away. Your village had long since lost hope, abandoning their faith in the gods. But not you. You knew they were up there. You believed they would help.

While everyone else assumed the drought would eventually end, as it had before, you couldn’t wait. Your brother was so young; he might not survive much longer. Water was life and without it survival was impossible.

“Hey, Ren.” You forced a smile for your brother. His face was flushed, and his clothes were tattered. “Come on, you need to drink this.”

Ren coughed, struggling to sit up. “Y/n, you’re back.”

“Yeah.” You brought the bowl closer to his lips, urging him to drink. He sipped weakly. “How have you been feeling?”

“I feel really hot.” You felt his forehead and sighed when you felt it even warmer than before. The fever he had was burning through his body. Ren wrapped his arms around your waist, clinging on you tightly. “Y/n you won’t leave me will you? Not like mum and dad.”

Brushing his hair out of his eyes, you felt your heart break a little. “Of course I won’t leave you. You’re gonna be stuck with me for the rest of your life, promise.” He grinned, giggling. There’s a small bit of you that wished that this would end soon but you knew better.

“I love you Y/n.” Ren mumbled, eyes fluttering shut.

“Love you too Ren.”

You were shaken awake and you nearly screamed when you caught sight of a beautiful face in front of you. His jaw was perfectly chiselled and his lips were plump, kissable almost. You felt your cheeks flushed. His eyes were what captured you most of all. Sapphire swirls painted his eyes, you felt yourself being pulled towards him.

“You mortals really do sleep like - what’s the saying? Oh yes - like the dead.” His sneer transformed his handsome features into something far more menacing. “Don’t you know it’s disrespectful to spend the night at a temple?”

“I-I’m sorry, I must have fallen asleep by accident.” You tried to move away but it was like an invisible force was keeping you from moving your limbs. He smirked, crawling closer to you so that you were inches apart. “W-Who are you?”

“Little mortal doesn’t know who I am.” His tongue flicked over his lips. “You’re in my temple, little one.”

"Y-Your temple…" The cogs in your brain turned and you let out a frightened gasp. "Y-You're a God."

He grinned, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "Smarter than you look. It's Y/n isn't it?" Words failed you and you felt your throat grow dry. He twisted a strand of your hair around his finger. "You've been praying for a heavy rain season for weeks. How could I not remember your name."

"Does that mean you'll help me?"

"I'm afraid the weather is in my brother's domain. I control the oceans, mortal."

"I know who you are, Satoru Gojo, God of the oceans and earthquakes. Your brother controls the sky and its weather." You said meekly, feeling your cheeks burn at how close he was. The tapestries had always depicted him as a handsome man with bulging muscles. But something about seeing him in real life had you so enamoured.

Satoru smirked, the blue in his eyes growing even brighter. His body glowed with a soft, golden aura. You gulped, unable to meet his gaze. "And yet you knew that, but still came to pray to me every day, making sacrifices as well."

"W-Well they say you're the most generous s-so I thought…"

"You thought I would help you?" Satoru cocked his head to the side. "Don't you know everything comes with a price?"

"And I'm willing to pay that price."

A silent pause passed between the two of you before a smirk crept up on Satoru’s face. You noticed his eyes grow darker, the bright pigment transformed into a much more seductive hue.

“My, my, little mortal’s brave.” You felt his eyes trailing over your body and you felt like you’re being hunted. “So you’ll do anything?” His fingers brushed over your thigh teasingly. You nodded.

A wicked grin spread across his face. You squeaked in surprise when his mouth collided onto yours. The intoxicating scent of the ocean filled your senses and your eyes fluttered shut. Satoru’s lips moved ferociously against yours, it made you feel dizzy yet they tasted sweet at the same time. You could taste the sugary taste of leftover ambrosia as he delved into your wet cavern, tongue exploring each and every crevice.

Your arms remained by your side, unsure of what to do. But when Satoru tugged you forward, they wrapped around him tightly, and you felt him smirk. Your hands wandered over his rippling muscles, trying to carve the feeling into your memory. He bit down on your bottom lip, drawing the slightest bit of blood.

The taste of your own blood mingled with the sweetness of ambrosia, created a heady mixture that made you gasp. Satoru pulled back slightly, his breath hot against your skin. "Everything comes with a price, little one." He murmured, his voice a velvety whisper. "Are you sure you're willing to pay it?"

You nodded, breathless and trembling. "Anything, just please help us."

Satoru's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something darker. "Very well, mortal. But remember, once a deal is struck with a god, there's no going back."

His fingers traced patterns on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "You'll belong to me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Body and soul."

You felt yourself growing hot as he ravaged your mouth, a soft growl emitting from his throat. You weren’t familiar with his actions, you had never been bedded, too busy tending to your sick brother. The people had called you many names but you didn't care. But now, with your minimal experience, you were nervous, scared even at the thought of a God deflowering you. Nevertheless, you started to grow wet, your pussy started to stick to the thin piece of cloth that covered you.

Satoru pulled away yet again, a single strand of salvia connected the both of you as he awaited your answer. You panted, out of breath and slightly intoxicated from just the sense of him.

“Do you accept?” His voice was deep and sultry, something about him was so deliciously seductive that you couldn't help the way your thighs squeezed together involuntarily.

"I accept."

Satoru's eyes flashed with satisfaction. "Good. Then let our pact be sealed." He captured your lips again, this time more possessively, his hands roaming your body with a newfound intensity. You let out a moan as his tongue slithered back into your mouth.

He sunk two fingers into your folds making you whimper at the stretch. Your hands gripped his biceps, nails digging down. Satoru licked his lips, continuing to pump into you, gradually increasing the pace. The lewd noises that filled your ears made a blush rise to your cheeks. Never in your life have you felt so dirty, so shameless.

"You're dripping, my sweet. Who would've thought you'd be this turned on." His tone was laced with unmistakable lust and hunger. "Been watching you for so long. Couldn't wait any longer to be inside you." He growled, fucking into you faster, drawing louder moans out of you.

"S-Satoru…" You gasped as he plunged another digit into you, manoeuvring his fingers so he hit all the right spots. "I-I…"

He stared at your core, your juices all over. For a second he slowed down, giving you a chance to breathe and relax before he picked up the pace. Curling his fingers, touching your sweet sensitive spots in your velvet walls. His thumb rubbed your clit, playing with your sensitive nub. A tight hot rope seemed to wrap around your stomach as Satoru continued to fuck you harder. He smirked as your walls squeezed his fingers. You let out a gasp when he touches a particular spot within you.

"Close my sweet?" He whispered, lips brushing against your ear and it sent you closer to your high. All you could do is nod fervently, the twisting feeling wrapping around your stomach tightened. You mewled as he fucked you faster, adding another digit. “You can’t cum just yet, got to make sure you’re ready for my cock.” He hummed.

You clenched around his fingers once more, tears pricked your eyes as you threw your head back at the pleasure you were receiving. Satoru surged forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He swallowed your moans and whimpers. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving soft open-mouthed kisses in his wake. Your noises were like music to his ears as he drank in every moan, whimper, mewl - the breathy gasps and the lewd pants.

“You know my sweet, there’s something that I love about being a God.”

You gazed at him through your lashes, his lips curling up into a devilish smirk. An ice cube appeared in his hand. You weren’t sure what to think until he slid it up and down your hot wet folds, then you were gasping at the coldness that hit your core. There was a rush of newfound delight that filled you up and you were rutting your hips, asking for more.

Satoru simply grinned, pushing the cube of ice further inside you watching your reactions bloom in front of him. His fingers were dripping with both water and your arousal. You let out a soft hiss when the ice cube is pressed harder into you. The coldness contrasted with the warmness of your needy walls. It spiked through your body as it made your blood rise and your head became light at the overwhelming feeling. You were clutching onto Satoru with so much force that it would hurt him but he didn’t care, not when he was in the midst of unravelling you.

“Let’s see how many you can hold.” It shocked you into a frenzy when you felt another ice cube get pushed inside you, the last one still slowly melting.

“Mmmph. Too much, ngh, feels weird, ‘s too much.” Your mind seemed to explode as you babbled incoherently. “F-fuckkk ‘toru it’s cold a-and-“

You were unable to finish your sentence as Satoru reached out his hands to pinch your clit causing you to jolt forward at the sudden gesture. You felt a rush as you gazed up at him. watching his smirk grow as he looked at your sopping pussy.

“You’re so beautiful!” He teased your folds, rubbing against them harsher. “Take more for me okay? You’re such a good girl, my sweet, keep that dirty pussy dripping as I stuff you, okay?” Satoru’s lips brushed your ear. “Then I’ll let you cum.”

You felt yourself spiralling into euphoria when he slid his finger down your pussy. His tongue flicked over his lips as he admired your fucked out face. Morals left your body and you let your urges take over. All reason and thought left you as you were reduced to a whining needy mess. Your pussy clenched pathetically around the ice cubes, the cold still surprising you. Satoru did nothing but coo at you, tucking strands of loose hair behind your ear.

“Come on my sweet.” He urged. “You're doing so well. This pussy is so pretty, she’s just so gorgeous, fuckkk, wish you could see her.”

“A-Ah, ‘toru good f-feels so g-good.”

You were writhing beneath his grip, a feeling of overwhelming pleasure surged through you as he continued his actions. Your pussy constricted around his fingers and you felt something grow within you. Your nerves and senses were heightened as you felt his fingers nudge at your swollen clit.

“I-I feel somethingg, ngh, f-feels weird like I’m gonna burst-” You gasped out, unable to keep the noises within you.

“Awwww.” Satoru’s tone was mocking as he watched your tiny frame twist and turn under his grip. A wicked grin spread across his face. “You’re close, my sweet, beg to cum and maybe I’ll be nice enough to let you.”

It was almost painful but the pleasure was so uncontrollable that it overtook any pain you felt. Satoru slid another freezing ice cube into you, making you scream. Your mind was dizzy and you could only feel yourself getting stretched repeatedly with the cold object. Your pussy walls were both cold and hot, the mixture that Satoru had concocted dripping from them. Sweat covered your body, glistening as the sun shone down. You felt like you were on the verge of collapsing, so desperate for an unknown pleasure to come to your saviour.

“S-Satoru...cum, p-please. W-Wanna cum…” You stuttered helplessly, silently shrieking at the contrast of temperatures.

“More, beg more.”

You screamed at the feeling as his fingers thrusted in you making your head light as you desperately gripped onto his shoulders, clawing at some sort of way to tether you to the present. His words were laced with seduction as he continued to tease you.

“C-Cum cum cum, please pleaseee, needa cum so b-bad ‘toru fuckkk! P-Please let me cum, ‘s too much need it s-so bad, please please please!”

Satoru laughed as he buried his head in your neck, placing kisses on the empty space. He loved your desperate pleas, the breathy moans that would fill the gaps and the tears that followed as you begged him for something you had never experienced before.

“You’ve been such a good girl.” He purred, his deep voice making you clench around him. “And good girls deserve to cum. Go on my sweet, let it all out on my fingers, make a mess of this pussy.”

You felt a wave of ecstasy rush over you as he pressed his fingers down, biting into your neck. Your body shook at the sensation that overcame you. You rocked against Satoru as you felt your pussy squeeze and constrict. A newfound feeling gushed from within you and you felt yourself scream at the pleasure. Your mind was reduced to filth as you moaned, the ringlets of your release jolting through your body. Satoru groaned at the way your cum coated his fingers and he stared at your desperate cunt, watching the aftermath of the mess you had just created. You didn’t know what to think, your mind cloudy and confused.

“You fucking squirted, dirty fucking girl.” His eyes were transfixed and suddenly you felt embarrassed at the wetness between your thighs. He reached his hands out forcing you to stay open for him, exposing your most private part for him to ogle at. “Who knew this cute little pussy was capable of such filthy things. You’re just a whore in disguise aren’t you?”

Your pathetic mewls convinced him of nothing. Satoru stared in wonder at your pussy, watching as you clenched around nothing. He slid his fingers in his mouth, tasting every bit of you. A low moan was heard before he dived down licking up your mess. Still sensitive, you cried in shock, threading your hands through his hair. He sucked harshly at your sensitive bud, lapping at your juices. The feeling made tears bleed from your eyes and you tug on his wispy locks.

“Like it, my sweet?” His voice sent tingles down your spine and you held back the urge to scream. “Can’t hear you?”

“L-Like it so much ‘toru…” You let out a shaky breath, beads of your tears clinging onto your lashes. “P-Please…”

He lapped at your cunt greedily, swallowing every single drop. Your arousal dripped from his chin with a mixture of his salvia. His ears were blessed at the loud squelch that would emit from between your legs. Everything was so messy but he didn’t care as he continued to play with your pretty cunt. You could only whine and quiver at the feeling. Your legs shook, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. Blissful thoughts whizzed by as he kept you locked in an euphoric sensation. You struggled to not cry out and sob when white dots blurred your vision.

Satoru flicked his tongue against your engorged clit, plunging the wet muscle inside. His mouth was hot and you felt his tongue circle your swollen clit messily while you stuttered out pleading moans. He pried open your thighs, desperate to access deeper into the precious new heaven he had discovered. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head at the overstimulation, finding it hard to focus on anything as your senses overloaded. Your mouth hung open as sweet whines constantly fell from your lips. All you could do was lie there letting Satoru ravage your pussy like a man dying of thirst.

“C-Close, close so so so close!” You gasped when you felt him release with a pop before diving back down to continue to suck. “Too much, ‘toru ‘s too much, feels t-too goodddd…”

It wasn’t long before you were cumming again. Another round of your wet arousal coating his face and he licked it clean. You were drooling now, salvia running down your chin as you felt the tears run down your face. It was too much and you feel yourself fall into a new world of pure pleasure. You could feel Satoru’s lustful grin against you as he sucked your pussy. Your thighs shook, chest heaving up and down. Despite the fact you had just released it never stopped the god from indulging you in his carnal desire.

"Sweet little Y/n." He cooed as his thumb ghosted circles around your puffy clit. “Think you’re ready for my cock?”

It was a question that didn’t need an answer but you still nodded your head lifelessly. Your body was limp in his grip and you struggled to hold yourself up, relying only on him. Satoru smirked from above you, pushing you down on the marble floor. His hands were big and warm and the simple touch had heat blossoming at your pussy. You barely registered what was happening until you had your hands tied together. A thin golden cord wrapped around your wrists and Satoru bit his lip. You looked so beautiful, so pretty, so submissive.

“I like you this way my sweet. All tied up and ready to be used.” He frowned and you panicked, scared you had angered him. He snapped his fingers and you found a piece of cloth in your mouth, stopping you from speaking. “That’s better, as much as I love your noises I find this much more appealing.”

Your eyes widened when he reached down to release his cock from its confines. You had never seen something so big and dare you say pretty. Satoru’s cock was red and flushed, pre cum oozing out of the swollen tip, dripping like pearls as they rolled down his fat cock head. You felt yourself drool at the sight and you didn’t think you would want something in your mouth so bad. He grinned smugly at your reaction, knowing you were unable to say anything as you stared transfixed at the sight before you.

“Don’t worry my sweet, I’ll make sure to make you feel so good. I know how much this pussy loves to be filled up.”

The words are dirty yet you couldn’t help but let out a muffled whine as he picked you up. His tip pushed past your folds, nudging into your pussy hole. You shut your eyes letting yourself feel the stretch that he gave you. His cock was so big and every bit of your body felt like it was on fire as he continued to push inside. He paused letting you adjust, whispering into your ear quietly. Filthy praises that only made you drip and mewl. It felt like magic and you whimpered into your gag helplessly. Satoru’s fingers brushed through your hair and he peppered sweet kisses across your face.

It was like your world had imploded as he thrusted into you. Nothing else mattered as you moaned and squirmed at his touch. Your senses went into overdrive as he quickened his thrusts. He pumped in and out of you. He filled every crevice of your sex. His pace never slowed even as you felt all the energy leave your body. You screamed into the gag when he hit that particular spot that had you keeling. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head and you gasped for air through the gag.

“Fuckkk you’re so tight, such a slutty virgin pussy. Look at how you’re gripping on my cock my sweet, she’s so loud.”

His words only made you keen with desire as you gave in to the carnal temptation that bloomed within you.

“Mmmmph!” Your moans grew louder with every harsh thrust as his cock touched every part of your gummy walls. “Ah-Ah-Ah! ‘toruuuu!”

Satoru showed no mercy as he pounded into you. Cock plunging in and out of your pussy. Wet noises echoed through the walls of the temple and a small part of you felt bad for doing this, here of all places. It was inappropriate but it felt so good. Too good even. He continued his movements and the binds that once bound you vanished and you assumed that this was a sign that Satoru wanted you to touch him so you obeyed. Your fingers dragged down his back, sure to leave marks. Fingers fluttered from place to place, desperate for something to anchor you.

“You look so beautiful, pussy sucking in my big cock. Such a good girl for me.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. Everything he did felt amazing. “Moan for me my sweet, go on let me hear those filthy sounds.”

You obeyed his command letting the lewd sounds tumble from your lips as you gasped for more. Your hands roamed the vast expanse of his body, the taut muscles that lay under your hands, each touch ignited sparks. His grip on you tightened, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling just enough to make you gasp again. Every brush of his lip, every stroke of his tongue, every bite and nibble was a reminder of his power and you couldn’t help but give in completely.

The vigor that he fucked you with was compared to no man and you couldn’t help the lustful sounds that escaped your lips as his hips snapped to yours. It made your mind reel with the feeling of pleasure. His hair fell into his eyes and you reached your hands to sweep through his locks. Satoru was so handsome. He was a god after all and you couldn’t help that your heart pounded whenever you looked at him.

You felt your orgasm approach and you clenched your hands around his toned biceps, nails digging into his skin and he hissed. You moaned repeatedly into the gag as your body shook frantically from the pleasure.

“A-A-Ahhh! ‘toru ‘toru ‘s too much, nghh.” Your body thrashed in his grasp, wriggling and writhing as you felt the immense feeling build up again. Every movement magnified the intensity as you felt the shock ricochet throughout your body.

“It’s okay my sweet.” Satoru whispered but his thrusts were unrelenting. His fingers brushed against your clit, circling the bundle of nerves as he drew out your orgasm. “It’s okay, let's cum together. Soak my cock Y/n, such a good girl.”

Your juices overflowed and you felt his cum pump into your body, filling you up until you were so so full. Warmth blossomed throughout your body and you felt yourself wringing his cock with every drop of cum. The feeling was incomparable and you gasped for air once he removed the gag with the snap of his fingers. Satoru kissed you, his lips were demanding, moving against yours with raw hunger. The taste of the ocean filled your senses, salty and intoxicating. He pulled out to place a kiss on your thighs, on your pussy. You were so sensitive and you felt his cum as it flowed out of you. He stuffed two fingers in your pussy and you squealed at the sudden gesture. His fingers curled in and out of you before he slapped your core. The sting sent shock waves through your body and you couldn’t help the moan that tumbled out of your lips.

“Keep it in there my sweet, I’ll be visiting again.” His voice was a husky whisper, deep and seductive.

Then, with those words, he disappeared, leaving you a naked mess on the temple floor. You were breathless and reeling from the pleasure that he had just bestowed upon you. You had just given yourself to a god, one that had just stuffed you so full of his cum. You stared at the place where he had been in shock, your head felt light from all that had just happened. Your legs gave way when you tried to stand up, they were sore and achy, covered in splatters of both of your cum. His smirks and groans filled your senses once again and you felt yourself flush at the memory.

Satoru Gojo had just introduced a lustful desire that you didn’t think you would be able to forget for a very long time.

You gathered your belongings with shaking hands, urgently attempting to steady yourself as you stood. The wet splashes that painted your body were a stark reminder of what had just happened, and you tried your hardest to conceal them along with your flushed, fucked-out face.

You hobbled your way back to the village, heart pounding in your chest. Every glance from a passerby felt like they could see right through you. The sheer thought that someone would stop to talk to you had you eager to get home unnoticed.

Unbeknownst to you, Satoru was watching from Olympus, his eyes never leaving your retreating form. He grinned, a sense of satisfaction washing over him as he saw your tiny self hurry home. The memory of your trembling body and flushed cheeks was seared into his mind and he felt his cock harden again at the thought. He knew you were thinking of him, longing for him, and that was exactly what he wanted. When the time was right, he would come for you again, and induce you in a pleasurable haze once more.

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buckyalpine · 11 months ago

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Imagine you get into the holiday spirt with the cutest Christmas sweater, the fluffiest socks and these adorable bells in your hair. You're running around the compound with hot chocolate and cookies, the jingle of your bells ringing with each step. Everyone things its adorable. You're like a little elf, busy in your workshop (the kitchen), surrounded by marshmallows, whipped cream, delivering mugs of creamy sweetness along with homemade gingerbread men.

Everyone finds it so cute.

Everyone except Bucky.

Bucky hates it.

He hates the little tinkle he hears with each footstep you take.

Why?

Because his mind is in the gutter.

Your running around looking all cute and sweet and innocent and all he can think about is how gorgeous those bells would sound as he railed you with his cock.

He decided to stay in his room, hoping a book would calm him down but who was he kidding, his enhanced hearing meant he could hear you scurry around down the hall towards his room, and holy shit, if he could just grab your hair and bend you over-

"Bucky!" You lightly knocked at his door before popping your head in with a cheery smile, holding a mug of hot chocolate topped with marshmallows and plenty of whipped cream. No matter how intimidating Bucky painted himself out to be, you knew the soldier loved all the little extra toppings, especially after you caught him adding extra whipped cream when no one was looking.

"Hey" Bucky's voice came out more strained than intended, hoping to will his erection away which currently throbbed with need.

"I brought you hot chocolate" You stepped into his room, pausing when Bucky's smiled looked more like a grimace as he shifted from his place sitting against the headboard.

"Is-is everything okay?" You ask, padding towards him and he can't even hide the tent in his sweats, setting down the book he was reading to try and cover himself.

"Of course-yeah-thanks y/n" He rasped out as you came over and handed him the mug, your sweet scent of vanilla, sugar and spices only making it harder for him to keep his hands to himself.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You could tell Bucky was tensed, chewing his lip without meeting your eyes which was strange considering he was normally fine around you.

"Wouldn't be able to tell you sweets" Bucky chuckled to himself with a sigh rubbing the back of his neck while you cocked your head to the side, the tiny movement making the bells ring again.

Fuck.

"I don't think you'd want to help with something like this doll"

"Try me"

"OH" *jingle* "MY" *jingle* "GOD" You wailed, your bells ringing with each thrust as Bucky's cock slammed into you, his hands squeezing your hips as he fucked you from behind. He had you on your hands and knees after tearing your clothes of, loving the needy little whimper you let out after you caught a glimpse of his rock hard cock pressing against his sweats.

"That's it baby, that's it, sound so pretty with those cute little bells in your hair" Bucky groaned, biting his lip to keep his voice down as he fucked you harder, pushing his cock in as deep as it would go, "Look at how you're taking all of me baby, taking my big dick so well, such a good. Girl"

"More, want-more" you hiccupped, tears from pleasure streaking down your face, squealing when Bucky's hand spanked your ass before pulling out and manhandling you till you were on top. You whined, your lips pulled into a pout, all naked on top of the soldier except for the bells in your hair, your needy pussy clamping down on him. You pawed at his hand, tugging it to where you needed him most, moaning when he used his thumb to rub your clit, smirking at your fucked out state.

"Aww babygirl, are you too cockdrunk to fuck yourself on my dick" Bucky cooed as you squirmed on top of him, sloppily grinding yourself, your greedy cunt begging for anything he'd give you. You

"Fuck you're such a little slut" Bucky gritted out as he planted his feet against the mattress and started to fuck up into you, your boobs bouncing in his face matching the dainty rings every time he thrusted his hips up. "Want you under that goddamn tree and nothing else baby, gonna fuck you on every surface of his place"

Bucky could only take so much, his balls pulling tight to his body, cum desperate to blow and paint your walls, your pleasure contorted face all just for him.

"Walking around with these fuckin' bells, making my cock so hard, lookit how pretty you sound now baby, fuck y/n, m'gonna cum!"

"C-cum in me Bucky" You cried out, sobbing in pleasure as your orgasm ripped through you, collapsing against his chest as he fucked you through your high.

"That's it baby, milk my cock, that's what I want for Christmas, wanna empty my balls in you, fuck-oh fuck-milk it baby, shitt!" Bucky bit down on your shoulder to muffle his loud moans, shoving his dick in as far as it would go as he started to throb ropes of his spend into you.

That was round 1.

"You look like you've seen a ghost" Tony snorted as he saw Sam and Steve enter the living room, the captain's face pale in shock while Sam couldn't stop grinning. "What happened. We're gonna start the movie soon, where's metal man and y/n"

Steve went beet red while Sam cackled, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Making their own rendition of Jingle Bells"

Anyway, I'm sorry for giving you debauched instead of wholesome plots, MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMALS (the filthy part is for me @ myself)

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rafeandonlyrafe · 10 months ago

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demonstration

words: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, reader is toppers girlfriend, struggling to cum, female receiving oral and fingering, multiple orgasms, edging and overstimulation, protected and unprotected sex, cheating

“maybe you could ask one of your friends for help, top.” you pout, rubbing your hand over his shoulder, not wanting him feel any more upset than he needs to be, but at the same time, you’re not sure how much longer this can go on.

“you can't tell me what i can do to fix it?” topper asks.

“you know i was a virgin before you babe, i really don’t know.” you sigh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “maybe ask rafe?” “rafe?” topper turns suddenly to look at you. “why him?” “i’ve just… heard talk from some of my friends. he can probably give you some good advice. i don’t know.” you shrug. “maybe it’s something wrong with me.” “no, don’t say that.” topper shakes his head, turning to pull you into him, a hand around your waist.

“you ask your friends and i’ll ask mine.” you give as an option. topper nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead, hoping the next time you’re in his bedroom, it’ll go a lot better.

“what?” rafe gawks at his friend, unsure if he heard him right or if he was going crazy.

“ive never… i’ve never made y/n cum before and i just… i need to know what to do rafe! i’m worried she’s gonna leave me if i can’t get it together and i guess- fuck! i don’t know! just help me out man!” topper paces quickly, bringing his hands to his hair, tugging on it, stressed out of his mind.

“okay, alright, jesus, just clam down!” rafe says, sitting down on the couch, gesturing for topper to sit as well. he’s not sure how long he can keep himself still, already feeling awkward and nervous about not being able to make you cum, only made worse by trying to talk to rafe about it.

“every time i fuck her, i just get so over excited and cum too quickly and i know this is tmi but i just try my best and every time she doesn’t cum and she says its okay but i know it’s really not.” topper blurts out.

“alright, well…” rafe sighs, pushing his hand through his hair. he’s never had this type of issue before with girls. “do you finger her? or eat her out? before you fuck her, i mean.” “i eat her out sometimes.” topper shrugs. “she says my tongue feels good and i can make her cum like that, but not when im fucking her, i just don’t know what to do, i just get so excited and… and i’ve never had this problem with girls before, it’s just y/n.”

“to be fair, she’s hotter than any girl you’ve been with before.” rafe comments. it’s no secret, so he doesn’t feel bad saying it, especially when topper nods.

“she’s way out of my league, thats why i’m sure if i don’t fix this she’s gonna leave me.” topper sighs.

“maybe a demonstration could help?” rafe suggests, making toppers head snap towards him, a look of fury in his eyes.

“you are not allowed to fuck my girlfriend.”

“no, man.” rafe shakes his head. “what if i’m there while you fuck her? then i can give you specifics, and she will know you are really trying. she told you to ask me right?” “yeah, i guess you have a reputation of being really good.” topper cringes at his own words.

“i am. so, let me help you, top. brother to brother.”

rafe understands why topper has such a hard time keeping it together as you lay out naked on the bed, eyes flickering between your boyfriend and his best friend, a cautiously optimistic look on your face.

“go ahead and spread your legs.” rafe says, trying to keep his tone even, to disguise the lust that he feels as his eyes move from your breasts down to between your thighs.

“can you get naked first topper? i feel weird here.” topper was shirtless, but still had his shorts and underwear on, even though he was obviously straining against the fabric.

“yeah.” topper glances briefly to rafe before tugging them down his hips, letting his cock spring free.

“so have you ever cum before y/n?” rafe asks.

“yeah, um… with my own fingers.” you cough awkwardly. “and when topper eats me out.”

“its really just when i’m inside of her.” topper says with a thick swallow as your thighs part, opening them wide to show off your pussy, already gleaming with wetness and a peachy pink color that makes rafe want to bend down and bury his tongue inside of your folds, but he has to behave himself, just happy to have this opportunity to see you like this.

“why don’t you finger her first? then you can show me. open her up a little, it’ll help.” rafe instructs.

topper nods, reaching down and pressing one finger against your hole. you tense up briefly before relaxing, allowing topper to push his finger in.

“is she tight?” rafe asks, without really meaning to, but he figures you must be from the way you are squeezed so tightly around his finger.

“yeah, that’s why i can never last.” topper says, thrusting his finger in and out, the slick sounds of his movement squelching throughout the room.

“does that feel good y/n?” rafe asks, eyes flickering up to your face.

“mhm.” you nod, but you don’t feel any urge to moan, needing more. “could add a second, top.” “okay.” topper nods, trying to work a second finger in, but you hiss at the stretch, primarily hurting around your entrance, despite your wetness.

“gotta rub her clit too.” rafe says, reaching over and pressing a fingertip to your clit, rubbing it. you gasp out, not just from the good feeling but from rafe touching you, like he swore to topper he wouldn’t do before he agreed to this.

toppers finger slips easily in once you’ve relaxed to having your clit rubbed. topper looks slightly annoyed, but he stays silent when he sees how much you’re liking it now, unable to hold back your moans. “oh, just like that.” you moan, eyes fluttering closed.

“see if you can add a third.” rafe says, flicking his finger over your clit before going back to rubbing.

“i’ve-i’ve never been able to take more than two.” you sit up slightly, surprised when topper presses a third finger and manages to begin thrusting it inside of you.

“aw, fuck.” you whine, trying to close your legs, but topper holds one thigh open with his hand while rafe grasps the other.

“keep ‘em open, cutie.” rafe says. “gonna cum?”

“yeah, yeah keep going-” you cut yourself off before you can yell rafes name instead of toppers.

“pull out, top.” rafe says, suddenly taking his hand away, making your back arch off the bed as you squirm, trying to chase their fingers, to get them back touching you.

“no, no, no.” you whine when topper also pulls out, leaving your hole clenching around nothing.

“sometimes if you’re struggling having her cum with your cock inside her, you can edge her first.” rafe says, switching easily back to teacher mode.

“should i fuck her now?” topper looks to rafe, before glancing to you, realizing he shouldn’t be asking permission to fuck his own girlfriend, but rafe has that type of energy, that commanding presence that easily makes him in control of any situation.

“yeah, put the condom on though.” rafe glances to the bed where topper threw a condom out of his pocket earlier. while topper slides it on, your focus on him, rafe takes a moment to reach to his crotch, squeezing his cock and begging himself to settle, to calm down.

topper lines himself up with your entrance, placing one hand on your hip as he lines himself up with his other hand, pushing inside of you slowly as you moan, eyes squeezing shut, obviously aroused and feeling good by him stretching you, so rafe is unsure what the issue is, until topper begins to move.

he’s thrusting too rapidly, overwhelming you. rafe shakes his head, “slowly, topper. deeper thrusts.”

topper manages to get control of himself, slowing down but still not thrusting deeper, and rafe realizes its because of the angle, topper not holding himself low enough to properly thrust.

“here.” rafe grabs a pillow, a different one from the one you’re laying your head on. rafe taps your hip and you lift them as he stuffs the pillow underneath. “try now.”

topper scooches closer, now able to thrust much easier, entering you at a far better angle as he takes you repeatedly, still going too erratically, too random.

“on a beat.” rafe says. “gotta fuck her steady, can’t just jackhammer.” “i-i-” topper groans out, pulling out, much to your disappointment as you let out a deep sigh. “i can’t, was about to cum.” “damn, baby, you must be real tight.” rafe glances to you, making you blush and close your legs slightly, which is hard as you are propped up, spread open on display.

“try again, top, it’s okay.” you soothe him, keeping your voice soft and steady.

topper nods, retaking his cock in his hand, pushing it back inside. you nod in encouragement as he moves, already going to shallow and too fast to properly build you up.

“gotta rub her clit too, man. remember she’s already close from getting edged.” rafe tries to instruct, but when topper places his thumb on your clit, his movements are jerky and too harsh, almost hurting as you cringe, but in your displeasure, your cunt clenches around toppers cock and he looses control, moaning as he cums, pumping into the condom.

“shit!” topper shouts out in pleasure, before he realizes you’re looking up at him with disappointment in your eyes. “shit.” he groans again, this time angry with himself as he pulls out in shame.

“it’s okay, top.” you sit up, moving the pillow as you reach out for your boyfriend, or at least attempt to, but he moves away, looking down in shame.

“you’re gonna break up with me now.” toppers voice is sad as he speaks.

“what?” it takes you back, not expecting it.

“you’re gonna break up with me, aren’t you? because i can’t make you cum, you’re gonna leave me? god, i’m so pathetic.” “i can’t believe you think i’m that shallow.” you scoff as topper pulls the condom off and tosses it into rafes trashcan, who is simply glancing back and forth between the two of you. “that i would break up with you over sex?” “you wouldn’t?” topper questions.

“you would?” you question back, growing frustrated. “topper, i let you take my virginity, i can’t believe you thought i would do that just… just go.”

“no, baby, listen.” topper begins.

“i’m not breaking up with you yet.” you tell him. “but i need some space, please just go.”

topper can’t hide the tears welling up in his eyes, and he doesn’t want to cry in front of you, and especially not rafe, so he pulls his clothes back on quickly and haphazardly before leaving, slamming the door shut behind him.

you sigh, burying your head in your hands. you wouldn’t break up with topper just because of sex, but his reaction to what happened makes you question everything.

“you okay baby?” rafe asks, making you jump, forgetting he was there.

“yeah, sorry, i can leave.” you move to get off the bed when rafe grabs your wrists, making you stop.

“or you could stay.” rafe says, his voice suggestive, as well as the look on his face.

“i-but topper…” “just finishing off what he started. come on, you came here for help anyways. lets see if you can cum when i fuck you.” “i-i guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.” --

rafe finally picks his head up from between your legs, cunt now bright red and covered in mess due to your three orgasms his tongue and fingers brought out of you, deciding to go for overstimulation instead of edging, now that he was the one getting to have you.

“still thinking about topper?” rafe asks, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit, making you whine out.

“no.” you admit honestly, all of your thoughts have been replaced by rafe. “fuck me, please, rafe.”

rafe smirks, standing up and taking his shirt off, pleased that your eyes glaze over as you watch him undress, jaw dropping open when his cock is revealed, already hard and leaking.

“yeah, i know i’m bigger than him.” rafe smirks as he climbs onto the bed. “but i opened you up enough, didn’t i? or do i need to make you cum again?”

“n-no.” you shake your head, already so overstimulated. “i want your cock, i need it.” “he always fucks you in missionary?” rafe asks, wanting to make you cum in the same position that topper couldn’t, proving yet another way he’s superior.

“yeah, we haven’t tried anything else.” you say, leaving out the word yet not sure if you can go back to topper after this.

rafe nods, looking towards his drawer that he knows contains condoms, going to grab one before you speak up suddenly, “you-you can fuck me raw. if you want. i’m on birth control.” rafe can’t help but smirk, nodding as he grabs the same pillow again, placing it under your hips, bringing your tired legs up, thighs falling open.

“tell me if it hurts or if anything doesn’t feel good.” rafe says. he’s sure it’s toppers' inadequacies making you struggle, but just in case he wants to take good care of you.

“mkay.” you nod, hands fisting in the bed sheets as rafe rubs the head of his cock through your sticky folds, making sure to tap against your clit, just to tease you even further.

“gonna fuck you so much better than he ever could. ‘ts why you should be with me instead, baby.” rafe says, not letting you respond or even think too much about his statement as his cock pushes inside of you, making your back arch off the bed.

“oh my god!” you shout out, moaning wildly without care as rafe begins to thrust, deep and hard, hitting spots inside of you that topper has never touched before.

“oh, fuck.” rafe groans out. “you are tight, baby.” your cunt is squeezing him, molding to his walls. “no wonder he cums so quickly.” you shake your head, not wanting to think about topper, not wanting to feel any guilt or regret as rafes hips swing forward, cock pressing against your gummy walls as he moves a thumb to your clit, rubbing it in that same enticing way that made your high build so quickly last time.

“feels really good, rafey.” you moan, raising and lower your hips slightly in time with his thrusts, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you, feeling his hot skin against yours, the first person to take you bare.

“i knew there was nothing wrong with you.” rafe smirks. “already close to cumming, aren’t you?”

despite your body being tired from your three previous orgasms, you do feel another one building in your stomach.

“yeah, thats what i thought.” rafe moves faster, rubbing his thumb more intensely. “nothing wrong with you baby, you are perfect. perfect tight little cunt.” “please.” you whine out, unsure what you are begging for as tears slide down your cheeks, purely from being overwhelmed with pleasure. you’ve never managed more than two orgasms in a night, and he’s close to doubling that.

“cum for me, doll. don’t have to beg. wanna feel that cunt squeezing around me.” rafe encourages you, pumping quickly as he pinches your clit between his thumb and finger before letting go and rubbing quickly, forcing the orgasm out of you as you scream, entire body tightening as your hips rise, high overtaking you as your eyes open to see rafe looking back at you, cocky look in his eye, but his jaw is slackened in pleasure as your cunt spasms around his dick.

“that’s it, good girl.” rafe affirms, thumb now gently touching around your clit, bringing you down slowly as his cock stays lodged deep inside of you.

you shiver as you lower your hips, breath slowly coming back to normal.

rafe bends over your body, taking your lips in a kiss. you moan into his mouth, his tongue licking against your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth.

“you just came on my cock, pretty girl.” rafe says.

“i know, i loved it.” you hum, eyes sliding shut as rafe kisses your jaw, obsessed with the taste of your skin almost as much as your cunt.

“hmm, so two more? three?” rafe suddenly snaps his hips forward, making you realize he’s still buried inside of you.

“wait, wha-” your question is cut off as rafe straightens, resuming his same pace as if he didn’t just deliver you the most mind blowing orgasm.

“you think i’d be satisfied with getting you to cum just once?” rafe tsks and shakes his head. “we aren’t even close to done.”

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peachesofteal · 4 months ago

Text

I blame @alwaysshallow but-

Simon Riley’s back is fucked. That’s an understatement. Between work and the weight he’s carrying around, his spine weeps at night when he goes to lay down. Twisting and crouching and crawling only increase the strain, the twinges between muscle and bone blooming into a full grown ache. Those threadbare shit mattresses they always seem to find, awful. By the time he gets back to base, he’s already been popping paracetamol from morning to night, his jaw so tight he’s got a permanent headache.

Physio is a necessity. When he was a younger man it was easier to blow the whole thing off, swallow it down with too many glasses of bourbon, but now if he doesn’t go within a day or two after landing back at base, he’s miserable.

However, there’s a problem.

It’s you.

Simon’s not really sure about you. Sweet as a lolly, but incredibly jumpy, your hands shake before you really get started, carefully tracing over his back, feeling for knots and strains.

“H-hi Lieutenant Riley.” He grunts his acknowledgment, stripping off his shirt and assuming the position across the table, face down, arms to his sides. “Okay, straight to it, I guess.” He should say something, but doesn’t. He doesn’t mind letting you wallow in your discomfort. If he’s being truthful with himself, he enjoys your nerves.

Your fingers are deft, pinpointed pressure alleviating the agony splintered across his back. You’re polite as a nun, letting him know where you’re going beforehand, giving him time to prepare to feel your touch.

“I’m going to try to adjust this tension in your lower back now.”

“I’m going to press on the sciatic nerve.”

“You’ll feel my palms on your shoulders.”

It’s kind of you, considerate, even though every time you step away from the table he catches the anxious look on your face, brows knitted together, lip tucked between your teeth.

At the end of his session today, you swallow and start babbling, hopeful look on your face. “Hey, I’ve just learned these new massage techniques, by the way. I’ve been practicing and was wondering if you’d be interested? Really should loosen up the last of these muscles. I’m pretty new at it, but was hoping-“

“No.” He snaps, and your face falls for a second before you catch it, and nod.

“Sure, of course. Sorry Lieutenant Riley.” You step away, professional smile back in its place, and gesture to his shirt. “I’ll just let you…” He sits up, fully, but your eyes don’t stray. “Alright, well, see you next time.”

The next time he’s in to visit you, you’re not outside your office to greet him as usual. He frowns, not enjoying the change in your routine, forcing him to knock on your door and wait for an answer.

When someone else answers the door, something weird happens to his stomach, some sort of phantom pain, and his skin starts to itch.

“Who are you?” He barks, and the man narrows his eyes.

“I’m filling in, your usual therapist is out today.”

“Out? Out where?”

“They didn’t say.” Where the fuck are you? He turns on his heel, striding out of medical, ignoring the questions lobbed at his back.

“Lieutenant Riley?” You’re trembling in your doorway, fingers wrapped around the door handle. “W-what are you doing here?”

“You weren’t at therapy.” You’re just standing there, confused.

“I… I know. I’m not feelin’ well.” An unbearable drum starts beating in his chest, so loud it throbs in his ears.

“Step aside.”

“Wha-“ you’re cut off as he brushes by, hooking an arm around your waist and dragging you along by his hip. Herding. Instinct. “What’re you doing?!”

“Hush.” The door shuts behind him, the finality of the click deafening. “Need someone to take care of you, don’t ya? Can’t seem to do it yourself.” Your mouth drops open, and he smiles to himself.

“Lieutenant, that’s… thank you, but I’m fine, really.” His hands rest on your shoulders.

“Don’t think so pet.”

#peach still can’t write but she’s trying!#peaches writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader

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shotmrmiller · 7 months ago

Text

Uninvited, Unexpected.

a/n: it's nice until the very end. it hints at baby trapping. one solid sentence that's kinda degrading (i couldn't help myself ok) this was in the works for so long, i did so much research just to use words. english is hard. and ignore the plot holes, for my sake. my sanity.

this is SMUT. 18+mdni please (if im missing anything else, lmk)

ty to my wonderful beta readers @waves-against-a-cliff & @xoxunhinged

wc: 3,1K

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!reader

my contribution to the @glitterypirateduck ghost challenge. idc if i wrote it much earlier lol.

You're awoken by a loud noise. At first, you think you dreamt it. Exploding head syndrome, maybe. You strain your hearing but it's quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling, its old bones creaking in the dead of night. Rain gently patters against the windows, blurring the world outside.

A flash of sudden light illuminates the bedroom, casting elongated shadows across the floor, followed by a loud crack that rattles the glass. Thunder. You should've guessed.

The frantic beating of your heart slows to a gentle roll, and your eyes leaden with sleep. The soft pillows beckon, the warm blankets cradle you as you sink back onto the mattress.

Only for you to be snapped back into reality, drowsiness dissipating like a morning mist.

Someone's knocking on your door.

Your heart is in your throat as you quickly peel off the blankets, the chill of the floorboards underneath your bare feet seeping into your bones.

In the bookshelf sits the gun Simon had given you before he had moved out, the rumble of his voice a ghost in your ear. "For protection," he'd murmured, placing the cold metal onto your open palms. "Jus' in case."

Your trembling fingers fumble as you search for it in the dark, flinching as a couple of books spill from the shelf onto the floor, pages rustling in your urgency.

The knocking persists.

The metal of the grip is unyielding in your clammy hands. You've never tested it before, never had the displeasure. As you hold it close to your chest with a quivering breath, you hope tonight won't change that.

Simon's instructions echo in your mind as you approach the front door. "Thumb the safety. Hold the grip with both hands. Do not, under any circumstance, put your finger on the trigger unless you're plannin' on sendin' hate. Clear?"

Your throat tightens, a phantom snake coiling around the narrow passage, and panic grips your heart as you reach for the blinds, slowly hooking two fingers and carefully pulling down to look at who is—

Simon.

Simon?

Sweat-slick fingers flip the light switch before quickly undoing the locks, the hinges groaning in protest as the door opens.

"What the hell?"

It's Simon, disheveled— maskless— swaying on his feet. His eyes are half-closed and unfocused. Johnny's holding him up by the arm, struggling to keep him upright.

"S'ry, bonnie. We wen' out fer a few 'nd clearly, he's out 'is face. Quite crabbit, too. He said ye'd let 'em sleep 'ere," he slurs.

Simon's not the only one who's pissed. With a resigned sigh, you gesture at the couch with your free hand. "There, I guess."

That he thought of you even in his drunken haze tugs at your fragile heartstrings.

Johnny guides him to the catch, a quiet C'mon LT to spur him forward. Heavy boots thud against the floor as they stumble toward the living room while you carefully place the gun on the kitchen countertop before reaching for a water bottle in the pantry. Johnny snickers under his breath as Simon collapses onto the sofa, the springs protesting his weight.

Two bottles, then.

You watch Simon's head loll as you hand Johnny the water. "Tell me you aren't the one driving, Johnny," you grumble.

He takes it with a quiet thanks. "Naw. Cap'n's stone cold sober."

Small mercies.

Johnny gives Simon a rough slap to the side of his leg as he bids him goodbye, pulling you in for an embrace tight enough that your spine pops before walking out the door.

You let out another sigh as the lock clicked back into place. The tangy, sour scent of stale alcohol mixed with stings at your nose, as does the invasive smell of smoke.

His boots are mud-caked, and you'll be damned if he stains your nice furniture with his mess. "Shoes off." He groans but complies. The laces come undone quickly, and you tug his shoes off with a grunt. "Simon."

His glassy eyes meet yours. "Drink your water." The burning need to chuck it at his head is one you have to vehemently smother into embers. Moron. Only Simon would have the gall to show up unannounced months after the separation. And drunk.

You push the bottle into his chest roughly and make to go back to bed when he encircles his hand around your wrist and the world spins on its axis, suddenly finding yourself beneath him with his face nestled in the crook of your neck.

Simon's breath is hot against your skin, the weight of his body pinning you down so achingly familiar. It stirs up past memories that would have you pressing your thighs together if he wasn't right there, using his broad waist to spread them apart.

"Missed ya, love." A confession. "S'much."

The breath you draw is jagged, his slow-spoken words hanging in the air. You want to push him away, scream at him for stumbling in and disrupting your night, your rest, your carefully crafted peace. But there's a part of you that can't help but soften at the tenderness in his tone.

"Simon," you whisper. "You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying—" his lips find your fluttering pulse. You find purchase in his shirt, shaky fingers grasping at the hem.

"'M drunk, no' no liar." Your resolve wavers. No, he never had been. Honesty hadn't been the reason for the split. It wasn't the truth he'd spoken but the truths he'd kept to himself. A fortress around his heart, the bridge to its gates raised. Unwilling to share a burden, share a life.

His warm tongue licks a hot stripe up your neck reaching the lobe of your ear where his blunt teeth sink into it. A choked gasp spills from your mouth, spine arching in reflex— your treacherous body remembering his touch, yearning for it.

"Simon—" your words get caught in your throat; snag like fishhooks when he undulates his hips, arousal creeping along your veins like ivy.

"Don't ya miss me, pet?" You've asked him to not call you that because it never fails to stoke the fire in your belly, to sodden your knickers. Before you can chide him on his choice of words, he shifts. One arm, an inked column under the soft light of the living room, holds him up just enough to bring his rugged face into focus. His eyes, like a stormy night's sky, swirl with untamed desire.

You know it's dangerous to play with fire. Touch it and burn, ache, blister. But the passion of this old flame beckons like a siren with sharp teeth. Each drag of his prominent erection against your core only succeeds in pulling you away from the shore of clarity. It's disorienting, insistent.

Relentless.

"My pretty little love," he mumbles. Simon's gaze drags from your glassy eyes to the delicate contours of your collarbone. His fingers trace lines of intimacy onto the swell of your breasts before using the pad of his thumb to swirl the stiffened peak of your nipple. "Say the word 'nd it all stops."

The scent of alcohol clings to him, a bitter reminder of the loss of inhibitions it brings as it warms one's chest. Blurred lines he might not mind, but you do. Lost boundaries. Rejection sits on the tip of your tongue, on the edge of your teeth when he says something that frays the last threads of your resolve.

It comes undone.

"Please. Jus' tonigh'. All I need." His words sound like footsteps in winter mire, slushed, syllables blending together.

You'll just have to kick him out on his arse in the morning.

"Okay," you breathe. Just one night, you tell yourself. He's always been good to you in the bedroom. One last hurrah wouldn't hurt. Maybe it'll allow you to finally close this painful chapter in your life and start anew, with pristine white pages and fresh ink.

Your hands, trembling with nerves and anticipation, cradle his face. The roughness of his stubble in contrast with the softness of your palms is grounding, keeping you from being pulled under your own swirling emotions.

" 'M righ' 'ere, love. You're safe with me, always." He whispers the last words reverently, a vow. Simon's breath mingles with yours as he leans in for a kiss.

The world around you fades, your senses tunneled on the feel of his lips, the taste of him— mildly sweet with a hint of peppermint. He slants his head to deepen the kiss, and the bruising ache in your heart is replaced by another, one that burns brightly and threatens to sweep you away.

The lulling sound of the pouring rain outside is drowned out by the beating of your racing heart.

The bed creaks when Simon perches you on the edge of it, quietly ordering you to take your top off.

"What about my bottoms?" You bite down on the gummy inside of your cheek when he pins you in place with a look— a predator eyeing its prey.

"Those are mine." Resounding. Final. A gavel in a courtroom.

You fling your shirt off, tossing it into some forgotten corner in the room, and cheekily watch Simon undress. It's not methodical like it used to be. No longer a means to an end. Experienced fingers undo the buckle of his belt before he takes it off, the leather material snapping in the air, slicing through the silence.

A quip tumbles out of your mouth faster than you can stop it. "Gonna spank me with that?"

The air around you thickens— or thins, you can't be sure— when his eyes flash to you. He kicks off his jeans, one foot after the other, wobbling as he does. "Tha' wha' you want?" The words he didn't say ring out loud and clear.

Don't rattle the cage, sweetheart. This dog isn't muzzled.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from saying anything else, something that he might take you up on, instead focusing on the way his heavy cock hangs in between legs (dangling with each step forward—)

"M'eyes are up 'ere." Your nose scrunches at his joke. Cute.

He lowers himself onto his knees, your legs cradling his face as it hovers over your sex, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your heated skin.

The sleeping shorts you're wearing are ratty and worn. They're thin too, practically translucent from constant use. Which means that he can see that you're not wearing any undergarments underneath.

"Hope you know I can—" Heat licks up the sides of your jaw, pooling in your cheeks as you cut him off with a snappy remark.

"Yes. I know."

The tip of his pointed tongue drags along the seam of your shorts, right along your slit. Your breath hitches, and you clench your jaw to keep from making a sound. Your back bows involuntarily, the feeling startling, intense.

"Can see tha' clear as day, as if lookin' through a windowpane, pet," he taunts. The words that are forming, almost ready to spill out, freeze in place when his mouth comes in direct contact with your slippery cunt. He licks once, twice, through your folds, slightly dipping into your slick entrance, only pulling away to nuzzle your pearl with his misaligned nose.

"Sweet as a peach, jus' like I remember," he purrs, the timbre of his voice buzzing against your puffy lips. "Missed this." A mewl slithers past your grit teeth when he gently sinks one thick finger into you, curling and twisting. Arousal drips onto his knuckle, tracing a hot path down to his wrist. He coos at you when he adds another digit, hissing at the sharp but brief pinprick of the stretch.

"Bloody fuckin' tight." Simon rises off the floor, the quiet sound of his knees popping swallowed up by your harsh pants. "Gotta let me in, love. Relax."

He keeps the thrusts shallow, his fingers dragging deliciously along your nerve endings. The sting soon fades, giving way to a gentle warmth that unfurls inside of you, letting Simon reach deeper until—

Your muscles stiffen, tight like a spring when he brushes over the rough patch of skin that has bursts of light appearing across your eyelids.

"Look at ya. Droolin' like a mutt with my fingers stuffed up your pretty cunt."

There's a pressure in your lower belly that's steadily building with each sloppy thrust of his hand, pulling squelching noises from your sodden pussy. He finally, finally, latches onto your neglected clit, lightly sucking on it in tandem with his fingers.

Your chin drops to your chest as everything nears a breaking point. The pressure inside you has your body wound tight. The fibers of your muscles contract, almost painfully, preparing for the release of what's to come, what can't be ignored.

The swirling of his golden tongue pushes against the boundaries of your endurance, pushes you to the precipice, where you finally hit the point of no return. You can feel something about to give, ecstasy trickling through the cracks in your foundation, uncontrollable, raw. Your fingers thread through Simon's hair, curling tightly, pulling it taut when you feel something about to give—oh fuck—

Snap.

The structure that holds everything in place collapses.

A sudden release of pent-up energy and emotion erupts like a dam bursting, a cleansing flood that washes away the grime of old wounds, of bitterness, leaving the edges softened so they can heal; knit closed and scar over. Closure. It touches every part of you, filling you with a sense of liberation.

Your heart beats freely, it throbs with life as a wave of relief washes over you, soothing, a balm over scraped flesh, a rush of cool air into starved lungs.

A lightness that comes after being weighed down with burdens for so long.

Simon's hands encircle your arms firmly— fingers digging into the meat of your biceps— and effortlessly maneuvers you toward the center of the bed as if your lethargic form were a feather caught in a breeze; weightless, insignificant.

Gentle but unyielding.

There's a ringing in your ears that muffles his voice, blurring the edges of his words, an unintelligible hum, as if you were underwater. The sensation leaves you feeling adrift in a tranquil sea, cradled in its silken embrace. The only anchor you have to the muzzy reality is his warm touch.

"'M sorry, sweetheart. I can't," he apologizes, hooking your right leg over his shoulder. You let out a sibilant hiss as he leans forward, pushing your knee to your chest, the corded muscle of your hamstring pulling to its limit. "Can't wait anymore, 'm sorry."

Simon gives you a sloppy kiss as his heaving length prods at your swollen entrance, the tip breaching your pussy with a warm burn that starts from under your navel and only flares, radiating from your core outward. It's searing, the initial bite of the stretch disrupts the haze in your muddled mind, bringing the world around you into cutting clarity.

A guttural noise claws up his throat as Simon sheathes himself halfway, his growled words not the salve he was hoping for. It only grates at already raw nerves, abrasive.

"Jus' a little more, you can take it." He winds a hand downward to draw messy circles on your slippery clit, to stifle the roaring fire in your stomach, your chest. "You already have."

His jerky touch does its job, transforming the sharp burn of him wrenching your walls apart fiber by fiber into a quiet glow; smoldering heat now simmering. You soften, mellow and pliant, accept him into your body as he sinks to the hilt with a quiet groan.

"There's my girl. Takin' all of it like you were made f'me." Simon's words of praise tangle around your spine, electric, prickling. Your heart gallops like a herd of horses, wild and free. "Liked tha' did you? Jus' about strangled my cock with your tight cunt."

He rolls his hips once, twice, searching for signs of discomfort, but when only warm pleasure laps at your heels, when the barest of moans spill from your open lips, Simon begins to put his weight behind his thrusts.

Through half-lidded eyes, you see a raw, primal hunger reflected in his eyes— his soul, the one he'd claimed to have lost long ago, back with his reason, his sanity.

Yet he looks down at you as if you were his only salvation. A lifeline he grabs onto with an unyielding grip, his only tether to hope, purpose. A lighthouse shining in a raging storm, a beacon calling him home.

Simon presses a large hand onto your lower stomach, his work-worn palm pushing until you wince, brows furrowing at the fleeting whisper of pain.

"Can feel myself right here," he sluggishly mumbles, drunk of the feel of your cunt, the taste of your skin on his tongue— sweet like ripened figs. The sensory overload has him sinking his fingers into your flesh until it dimples.

He murmurs something under his taxed breath, something akin to mine, only mine as his lips leave a slick trail of saliva on the dip of your collarbone, the gentle curve of your shoulder, the thin, soft skin of your bicep up to your inner wrist, where he laps at your pulse.

As if savoring the present. The precious gift he's unwrapped, here and now. The last taste of you, which he hopes with a reverence that borders on prayer, lingers on his tongue long after the fruit— the sweet evidence of this one last intimacy— falls from the bough.

Simon comes with his teeth in the crook of your neck, biting down with a crushing pressure that has an acute pain digging its spurs into your consciousness, cutting the blazing euphoria of your own release short.

His cock is still twitching as he fills you with his spend when he takes his thumb and collects some of your slick to take you over the edge one last time.

"F'me. You can take it, yeah? I'll go slow, I promise."

Simon presses a kiss on your sweaty temple, his large hand cupping your jaw as he lazily watches you succumb to sleep, your breath evening out.

He reaches for your arm again, feeling for the birth control implant you'd had there when the both of you were still together.

Gone.

Sweet girl. You'd let him in without a fight. (He makes a mental note to wash the beer off of his clothes tomorrow.)

He knows your cycle better than the lines that are etched onto his palm. Better than the voice of the captain who rumbles in his earpiece, ordering him to go for the throat.

From the moment you'd stepped into his life with eternity in your eyes and the warmth of the sun on your lips, you were his. And he'll do anything to remain in your orbit.

(left unable to distinguish prison from paradise when each poison-coated kiss softens the world he'll build for you and for what's to come.)

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #simon ghost riley x f reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley smut #GhostChallenge

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sixosix · 1 year ago

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wanderer can fly; you cannot. he makes it his problem.

“What? Giving up already?”

“Shut—” heaving, you barely have the energy to flip him off, “shut the fuck up. Fuck off.”

Wanderer chuckles, all low and mean, as if his entire purpose in life is to ridicule you. He continues ascending overhead, moving and looking like an angel, but the words that come out of his mouth are far from angelic. “Careful, now. I know you overestimate yourself, but I won’t save you if you continue to scale a mountain with one hand.”

“Stop agitating me on purpose then!” You nearly slip from the intensity of your yell, but thankfully, it isn’t your time yet.

“How can I? You’re cute when you’re mad.”

Grumbling, you focus back on the mountain. Cute when mad. He must think he’s goddamn adorable, then.

You’re starting to lose sight of dents or protruding surfaces to get a hold of, and the mountain is getting steeper. You curse under your breath. If only you had Geo or Dendro—that’d help a lot much more. Maybe even Anemo, but that would be admitting defeat to the man who’s currently watching you intently.

Wanderer scoffs when your breath hitches, the surface you’re holding onto crumbling. He descends until you’re eye level. “Idiot, I told you that it’d be safer if we didn’t climb this all the way.”

“I know my limit.” Maybe. You may or may not have gotten a little over-competitive and jumped a few times, but that shouldn’t be a problem.

“Not more than I do,” he says.

“Don’t say it like that, weirdo.” You appraise the mountain overhead and, with a sunken stomach, realize that he’s right. There’s still a long way to go, and it’s a long fall back.

“Damn,” you say. You turn to Wanderer and blink up at him with wide eyes, hoping he would take the hint without having to say it outright.

Wanderer sighs, holding out his arms. “Jump.”

“Are you serious?”

“I won’t let you fall—of course I’m fucking serious.”

You grit your teeth, wondering if it’s easier to humiliate yourself and jump into his arms or to let gravity do its work.

“Hey,” Wanderer says, gliding closer and hovering an arm behind your waist. “No stupid ideas. Just jump and hold onto me.”

It’s always unsettling when Wanderer is not acting all bratty, like you’re not quite sure if you should goad him back to being mean or watch him bristle when you point it out. It’s been happening too often recently. That must be saying something about him if his soft moments are scarier than his jabs.

Wordlessly, you reach out for his shoulder with one hand and hold back a yelp when the lack of balance causes you to slip. You hold on tight around his neck, eyes wide and heart jittery. Wanderer secures his arms, moving in one swift motion. Before you even know it, he has one arm on your back and the other under your knees.

“How convenient it must be to have a ride as your companion,” Wanderer mutters in amusement at your relieved face.

“Yeah. That’s why I keep you around,” you say as he glides upward, barely straining from your weight. He looks as unaffected as ever.

He looks as infuriatingly and devastatingly beautiful as ever.

“Ha,” his smile is all sharp, “and not because you have a little crush on me?”

“You follow me around because you do. Don’t get it twisted.”

He snorts, tipping on something a little more genuine. You wisely decide to stop ogling at his face and enjoy the view of the sky instead. The blue of his clothes and the shade of his eyes are much prettier, but you’d rather lose that than start squirming in his arms. Not when he’s carrying you bridal style and all.

Finally, he descends, hardly disturbing the grass with his grace. He sets you down, arms crossed, as you pat yourself off from dirt and stuff.

“Well?”

You eye him warily. “What do you want?”

“Some semblance of manners will do,” he says, then leans close as if he’s baring his face for you. He’s been less and less subtle recently, too.

Nonetheless, you find yourself smiling. The things he’d do just to get a kiss—it nearly makes you laugh out loud. But then he’d start getting all irritated like a cat, and you much prefer when he’s sweet like this. Sweet in his very Wanderer way, you mean.

You kiss him on the cheek. He puffs up like some proud peacock. He calls you adorable all the time, but he’s the one who’s acting like this. It’s no wonder you keep him around.

#genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin impact x you #wanderer x you #genshin x reader #genshin drabble #scaramouche drabble #wanderer fluff #genshin impact

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v6quewrlds · 1 month ago

Text

❝ pretty little thing, j. burrow. ❞ ‎ ‎ ┉

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: it is a rare quiet morning for you and joe. while you plan to sleep in and take it easy, your husband has other more active plans.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: my first joe fic, everybody cheer!! i did not plan for it to be this long but she's fresh, she's cute, i like her. i hope you all like it <333 requests are open for headcanons, texts, blurbs, fics, etc.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, sexual content, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, penetration, very slight praise kink, fingering, joe is pussy drunk fr fr.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x black!wife!reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 6.7k.

You stirred in the bed, the morning light creeping through the blinds. The soft hum of the city outside barely registered in your sleep-laden ears. The bed shifted as Joe's arm snaked around your waist, gently pulling you closer. "Morning, beautiful," he murmured, his breath warm against your neck.

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his playful gaze. "Mornin'," you mumbled, still clinging to the last vestiges of sleep.

Joe leaned in, kissing you gently. "No meetings today?"

You yawned, stretching languidly. "Nope, not a single one."

Joe's grin grew wolfish. "Perfect," he said, his hand sliding down to your thigh. His voice was low, his eyes dark with desire.

You giggled, swatting at him playfully. "What are you doing, you hornball?"

Joe's grin only grew wider. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he replied, his hand continuing its journey under the covers.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide your smile. "It's barely seven in the morning, Joe."

"Exactly," Joe said, his hand reaching its destination and squeezing at your ass, causing you to gasp. "We've got all day to do whatever we want."

"And what is it that you want to do?" You asked, your voice teasing as you felt his fingers dance along your skin.

Joe's eyes lit up with mischief. "I want to fuck my gorgeous wife," he said bluntly, his voice thick with lust.

You rolled your eyes again, feigned annoyance lacing your tone. "Always so romantic," you teased, even as your body responded to his touch.

"Well, it's been a while since we had a morning like this," Joe said, his hand moving between your legs, stroking you lightly. "I want to make it count."

Your giggles turned into moans as Joe's fingers found their mark, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body as they danced over your sensitive pearl. "You're insatiable," you murmured, your manicured hands gripping the strands of his blonde hair as your lips found each other again in a heated kiss.

Your foreplay grew more intense, Joe's hand working your body with the precision of a maestro, drawing out your pleasure with every stroke. Your breath hitched as his thumb circled your clit, your legs trembling against his muscular thigh. You could feel him growing hard against you, his arousal pressing into your side.

"Fuck me, Joe," you whispered, your voice needy as the ache between your legs grew.

With a low growl, Joe complied, rolling you onto your back and positioning himself above you. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours, as he entered you in one smooth thrust. You arched your back, your nails digging into the bed sheets as Joe began to move. He was rough and unrelenting, your bodies slapping together in a rhythm that filled the room with the sound of passion.

Joe's eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze matching the force of his movements. "You're so fucking tight," he murmured, his voice strained with effort. "I can't get enough of you."

Your eyes rolled back in your head as Joe's words sent a jolt of pleasure through you. "You talk too much," you gasped, your own voice laced with desire.

Joe chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Oh, I'm just getting started," he said, leaning down to nip at your earlobe. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you crazy with want. His hips slammed into yours, the headboard knocking against the wall in a steady beat that echoed your passion.

You wrapped your legs around Joe's waist, pulling him deeper, urging him faster. You were wet and ready for him, your body responding to his every touch like a finely tuned instrument. He groaned, the sound vibrating through you as he picked up the pace, your bodies moving in a symphony of need.

Your lovemaking was raw and uninhibited, a dance you'd perfected over the years. You knew each other's bodies so well, every curve and dip, every sensitive spot that could send the other spiraling over the edge. As Joe thrust into you, your eyes locked, a silent communication passing between you that was as intimate as your joined bodies.

“Come on, baby, take this dick,” Joe urged, his voice gruff with desire as he pumped into you with a fervor that left you gasping for air. You could feel the tension building within you, your core tightening around him with every powerful stroke. The bed creaked in protest under your combined weight, the sound melding with your moans and gasps.

“You’re going to make me come, Joey,” you panted, your eyes glazed with passion.

“That’s the plan,” he replied with a wicked smile, increasing his pace. He watched your chest rise and fall rapidly, your breaths growing shallower with each thrust.

Your walls tightened around him, your moans turning into a high-pitched whine. Her nails dug into his back, leaving trails of fire on his skin. The sight of your pleasure, the feel of your body clamping down on his, was too much for Joe to resist. He bit his lip, fighting to hold back his own climax. But as your cries grew louder, he lost all control, driving into you with a fierce growl.

“Shit, baby.” Joe groaned as his climax neared, his hips moving erratically. He felt your body tense, your legs quivering around him. “You gonna come for me?” he asked, his voice thick with passion.

“Fuck yes, Joe, I’m coming!” Your moans only served to push Joe further into his trance. “Wanna come for you,” you whined into his ear.

“You’re gonna come on my cock, be a good girl for me, aren’t you baby?” Joe whispered, his eyes gleaming as he watched the ecstasy play out on your face. You nodded, your breaths coming in short pants, your eyes fluttering closed.

The tension between you grew palpable, until finally, your back arched off the bed with a scream of pleasure. Joe’s eyes rolled back in his head as he felt you tighten around him, your muscles pulsing in a delicious rhythm that sent him hurtling over the edge. He filled you with his seed, your bodies shuddering in unison as you reached your peak.

You lay there for a moment, panting and spent, your hearts racing in sync. Joe’s chest heaved with the exertion, his body slick with sweat, as he collapsed onto yours, his weight pressing you into the mattress. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, savoring the feeling of his warmth against your skin.

"I love you," Joe murmured, kissing your neck softly.

"I love you too," you whispered, your voice still trembling from your orgasm.

As you lay there, Joe’s mind drifted to his morning routine, his thoughts of a hard workout fighting against the post-coital bliss. He propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at you. "You coming to the gym with me?"

You groaned, playing coy. "After that performance, I might need a nap first."

Joe chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Come on," he said, kissing the tip of your nose. "It'll do you good."

You sighed dramatically, but the twinkle in your eye gave you away. "Fine, but you're carrying me there."

With a smirk, Joe didn't need further prompting. He hoisted you over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, your squeals of surprise turning into laughter. Her long coils cascaded down his back as he marched towards your closet, his bare feet cold against the hardwood floor. You playfully slapped at his backside, trying to wriggle free, but his grip was firm.

"You're not getting out of this," he said, his voice filled with good-natured determination.

"Put me down, Joe," you giggled, your cheek pressed against his shoulder as you attempted to squirm away.

"Nope, you said you'd come with me, so you're coming," Joe said with a smug grin, his muscles flexing as he set you down in the walk-in closet, turning to find your workout gear.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't deny the thrill of excitement that shot through you. It had been too long since you'd had the energy to keep up with Joe's intense workout routines. You watched him rummage through your neatly organized space, his toned ass on full display in his boxer briefs. Despite your protests, you felt a familiar stirring of excitement.

He pulled out matching sets of black workout clothes, tossing yours onto the bed. "You can thank me later," he said, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

With a mock pout, you slipped into your gear, your curves hugged tightly by the spandex. You had to admit, it felt good to be out of your business attire and into something that allowed you to move freely. Joe couldn't help but steal glances at you as you made your way to the home gym. You caught him looking and shot him a playful glare, which only made him grin wider.

Once in the gym, Joe turned on his workout playlist, the bass-heavy beats filling the space and setting the mood. You warmed up together, stretching your muscles in a tug of flexibility and strength. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as you watched Joe move with such grace and power. He'd always been fit, but his dedication to his career had sculpted him into something truly awe-inspiring.

You began your workout, Joe lifting weights that seemed impossibly heavy while you hit the treadmill. Despite your initial hesitation, you found that your body was responding well to the exertion. You pushed yourself, the endorphins flooding your system as you picked up speed, feeling the burn in your legs. The scent of sweat and effort filled the air, a heady mix that was oddly intoxicating.

Joe caught your eye from across the room, his own workout taking on a more intense edge. You were both so focused on your routines, yet couldn't help but steal glances at each other. The way your breasts bounced with each step on the treadmill, the way Joe's biceps bulged with every curl. You were both aware of the effect you had on each other, the sexual tension building again as the minutes ticked by.

You stepped off the treadmill, your body glistening with sweat. You grabbed a towel from the rack and wiped your face, watching Joe from the corner of your eye. He was doing lunges now, his thighs flexing with each powerful movement. You couldn't help but lick your lips, remembering how those same muscles had felt under your fingertips earlier.

"You okay over there?" Joe called out, a smirk playing on his lips as he caught you ogling him.

You laughed, snapping out of your daze. "Fine, just admiring the view," you said with a wink, grabbing a set of dumbbells.

Joe's smirk grew into a full-blown grin. "Keep that up, and I might have to show you some more of the view," he teased, not missing a beat in his lunges.

You rolled your eyes, but the heat in your cheeks gave you away. You began your dumbbell routine, the clanking of the weights a metronome to the pounding bass of Joe's playlist. You worked out in tandem, your movements synchronized despite the different exercises. Joe couldn't help but admire your dedication, and the way you pushed yourself despite your initial protests. You'd always been strong, not just physically, but mentally as well. Her resilience was one of the things that had first drawn him to you all those years ago.

The air grew thick with your exertion, the scent of sweat and pheromones a potent cocktail that only added to the tension. As Joe moved to the bench press, he watched your ass dip as you did squats, your toned muscles flexing with each descent. His eyes traced the lines of your body, memorizing every curve, every inch. It was all he could do to focus on his own workout, his thoughts wandering to the delicious ways he'd like to explore your body again once you were done.

You felt his gaze on you, and you couldn't help but push yourself harder, a smirk playing on your lips as you caught his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors. You knew exactly what he was thinking, and it only served to stoke the fire within you. You'd always had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, and the idea of Joe watching you, wanting you, was incredibly arousing.

You pushed through your routines, the room echoing with the sound of your breaths and the clank of metal. Your muscles began to burn, but you didn't stop, your eyes never leaving Joe's reflection. You could see his own workout was taking its toll on him, his face a mask of concentration and effort. Yet, you knew he was just as aware of you as you were of him. It was a silent game of seduction played out amidst the grunts and groans of exertion.

As Joe finished his last set of bench presses, he looked over at you, who was now doing some ab work. Her stomach muscles rippled as you worked through the last of your crunches. With the final crunch, you sat up, catching Joe's eye and sticking your tongue out playfully. He chuckled, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. You'd always had this playful, competitive streak in your relationship, and it was clear you was enjoying pushing his buttons as much as he enjoyed pushing yours.

You decided to take a quick break, chugging water and wiping the sweat from your faces. You couldn't help but lean into Joe's side, feeling the heat of his body against yours. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in tightly. "Shower?” he suggested, his voice low and filled with promise.

Your eyes sparkled with mischief. "Race you," you said, taking off at a sprint towards the bathroom. Joe chuckled, following close behind. You stumbled into the shower, your laughter echoing off the tiles as you both struggled to get the temperature just right. The water cascaded down your bodies, washing away the grime of your workout and leaving you gleaming.

Under the spray, Joe's hands found your body, his touch gentle, cherishing the casual intimacy as the warm water hit your skin. You leaned into him, your head tilting back to allow the water to run down your neck and over your breasts. The shower was a cocoon of steam and sensuality as you took turns washing each other, your eyes locked, smiles playing on your lips.

“Alright, what’s going on up there?” You asked as you looked at Joe, your eyes twinkling with loving concern, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You’ve been avoiding having any real conversation all morning, Joe.” Her voice was soft, not accusatory, just curious.

Joe sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he leaned against the shower wall. The hot water beat down on his broad back, the steam obscuring the tension in his face. There was no point in hiding his thoughts from his wife. You knew him better than anyone else, and you’d be the first to call him out on his mood swings. You knew exactly what made him tick.

"It's the team," Joe began, his voice echoing off the tiles. "We're playing like shit." He paused, his eyes closing briefly as the warm spray washed over his face. "The defense is a joke, and the coaching...it's just not there."

Your eyes softened, and you reached out to gently rub his chest. You knew how much the game meant to him, how much he put into it. "You're doing everything you can, Joe," you reassured him, your voice soothing. "Everyone can see that you're playing out of your mind. best QB rating in the league, over 80% completion, anyone with a brain knows you’re not the problem Joe.”

Joe leaned into your touch, his eyes still closed. "It's just...frustrating," he admitted. "I feel like I'm carrying the whole team on my back."

Your hand stilled on his chest, your expression serious. "You know I'm here for you, right?" you said, your voice steady. "Through all of it."

Joe's eyes snapped open, meeting yours. "I do," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "And I'm sorry for taking it out on you. I know I’m a dickhead sometimes with my moods. It’s just hard not to let it get to me."

"You are a dickhead sometimes," You teased lightly, your fingers tracing the contours of Joe's abs, eliciting a chuckle from him. "But, unfortunately, I love you for it. I love seeing how passionate you are about your work.”

The warm water cascaded over you, mixing with your laughter as Joe leaned in to kiss you. It was a gentle kiss, one that spoke of your deep connection and understanding. It was moments like these that made you realize how much you'd missed in your usually hectic lives. You pulled away slightly, your gaze searching his.

"Thank you," Joe murmured, his eyes meeting yours with a rare vulnerability. "For everything."

You nodded, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "Always," you said softly. “I’d do anything just to see you at peace. You know that."

Joe's arms tightened around you, his eyes searching yours. "I know," he murmured. "You’ve stuck by me through everything, even when I didn’t deserve it." He leaned in to kiss you again, his hand sliding down to cup your waist, pulling you closer against him.

“From the minute I touched down at LSU, you were there, pushing me to be better, supporting me when I doubted myself,” Joe said, his eyes filled with gratitude. “You’ve been my rock through all the shit, babe.”

Her own eyes misted over, you leaned into him. “And you were there for me when I needed it most,” you whispered. “When my whole world was falling apart.”

Joe nodded, remembering your darkest days, post-surgery. The pain, the doubt, the fear that you’d never play your sport again. He’d held your hand through it all, encouraging you to keep pushing, to find a new passion. And you had, in him and in the success of his football career.

You stood there, bodies entwined, the water beating down on your skin, sharing a moment of quiet understanding. It was in these moments that you felt closest, stripped of your public personas and your individual ambitions, just two people in love.

"You know," you began, your voice still soft, "You could always talk to someone about it. Maybe it's time to have a sit-down with the coaches?"

Joe sighed, his eyes closing briefly. "It's complicated," he said. "I don't want to be the guy who throws the team under the bus."

You nodded, understanding his dilemma. "But Joe, you're not throwing anyone under the bus," you said, your voice firm. "You're expressing your frustration, and that's okay. It's not about blame, it's about finding a solution."

Joe looked at you, his gaze intense. "I just want to win," he admitted. "For the team, for the city, for us."

"I know," you said, your voice soothing. "But you can't carry the weight of everyone's expectations on your shoulders. It's not fair to you when you’re playing your ass off and they can’t give you some help."

Joe nodded, his grip on you tightening slightly. He knew you were right, but it was hard to let go of the pressure he felt. "I'll talk to them," he said, his voice a little defeated. "But I can't promise anything."

You leaned up to kiss his neck, your teeth grazing his skin. "That's all I'm asking, baby," you murmured. "Just talk to them. Maybe it'll help."

Joe nodded, his resolve strengthening as your lips moved down his body. He knew you were right. He couldn't keep carrying the weight of the team's failures on his own. He had to trust that his voice would be heard and that changes could be made.

You stepped out of the shower, the cool air a stark contrast to the steamy warmth you'd just shared. You reached for a towel, wrapping it around your body and releasing your hair from its confines underneath your shower cap. As Joe toweled off, he couldn't help but appreciate the artistry of your singular tattoo, the way it danced over your muscles as you moved. It was a constant reminder of the fierce strength that lay beneath your softness.

"Come on," he said, taking your hand. "Let's get dressed and order some breakfast. I'm starving."

You couldn't help but laugh. "Fine, but no more distractions," you warned, swatting him playfully on the ass.

"Scout's honor," Joe said with a grin, his eyes lighting up mischievously.

In the bedroom, you quickly dried off and threw on your clothes, your bodies still humming with energy from your workout and the passionate kiss you'd shared in the shower. Your mind wandered to the kitchen, picturing the ingredients you had in mind for a hearty breakfast to fuel Joe for the day ahead. Heading downstairs, you felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect of cooking for him. It was a small gesture, but one that you knew meant a lot to Joe, especially when his days were packed with practice and meetings.

Joe followed you, his eyes tracing the way your hips swayed in the oversized LSU Football shirt. Despite his earlier promise to behave, he couldn't resist slipping his hand under the fabric to squeeze your ass as you walked in front of him. You shot him a glare over your shoulder, but your smile gave away your amusement. You knew he was just teasing you, trying to get a rise out of you. It was a dance you'd been doing for years, and you found it both infuriating and endearing.

“Instead of ordering, let me cook for you today," you offered as you descended the stairs, the plush carpet cushioning your bare feet. "It's been too long since I've had the chance to take care of you."

Joe's eyes lit up. "You don't have to, babe," he protested weakly, knowing full well that he'd lost that battle the moment you'd suggested it.

"I know," you said with a smirk. "But I want to make sure my man eats good. You give it to me so good, I wanna reward you. Now sit down, I'll handle it," you instructed as you pushed him onto one of the high-backed chairs at the kitchen island.

Joe obeyed, watching as you tied your hair back in a messy bun, revealing the nape of your neck. He found himself craving another taste of you, but he knew he had to be good for now. He leaned back, his eyes tracing the curves of your body as you moved around the kitchen, pulling out pans and ingredients with the ease of a seasoned chef. The sound of sizzling bacon filled the air, and his stomach growled in anticipation.

You began to prep a feast fit for a king. You whipped up eggs, topped with cheese and chives, crispy bacon, and a side of avocado toast. You knew Joe's diet was strict, but today was a day for indulgence. Plus, you knew he had earned it.

“Ja’Marr’s been complaining about that dinner we had to reschedule last week, says you owe him a home-cooked meal next home game,” Joe said, scrolling through his phone. He watched your expression as you cracked eggs into the sizzling pan, your brows furrowing slightly in concentration.

You chuckled. “Tell him to wait his turn. I’ve got my hands full cooking for one hornball Bengal today. I don’t need another one begging me for food,” you teased, flipping the eggs with a practiced flick of your wrist. “Matter of fact, tell him to bring his child next time he wants to eat my food. Maybe he’ll learn some manners from his son.”

Joe’s laugh echoed through the kitchen, his eyes never leaving his wife as you worked your magic. You had always been so fiery, so full of passion and sass. It was one of the things he loved most about you. “You’re gonna have to text him that yourself, babe,” Joe said, holding up his phone. “But maybe save the hornball comment for when we’re alone. I don’t need to hear it from him all week at practice.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that played on your lips. You grabbed your phone from the counter and shot a quick text to your friend. “Consider it done,” you said, setting the phone aside to focus on the meal. The kitchen was alive with the sounds of sizzling bacon and the occasional clang of a pan. The smell of breakfast filled the room, a comforting aroma that seemed to melt away the last of Joe’s tension.

As you moved around the kitchen, Joe’s eyes followed you, taking in every movement, every curve. Her body was a testament to your dedication to maintaining your health, your strength and grace evident even in the simple act of cooking. He felt himself growing hard again, his body eager to claim you once more.

"I swear, if you don't stop looking at me like that, this breakfast is going to be ruined," you warned, tossing a piece of bacon at him. He caught it with a grin, popping it into his mouth and chewing slowly, his eyes still glued to you.

Joe couldn’t resist. He slid off the chair and approached you, his bare feet silent on the cool kitchen tiles. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you back against him. You giggled, trying to shoo him away with the spatula, but your protests were weak.

"Joseph," you scolded, but your voice was playful, not stern. You could feel his arousal pressing into your backside, and you had to admit, it was tempting.

"Come on, honey," Joe murmured, his breath hot against your neck. "Just a little taste," he begged, nibbling at your ear.

Your resolve wavered. You could feel his hands roaming over your hips, his fingers inching closer to the apex of your thighs. "Joe," you warned, your voice laced with amusement. "I'm trying to do something for you."

"And I'm trying to do something for you," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. He pressed closer, his erection nudging against your backside. "Let me just return the favor."

You felt the heat pool in your belly, the flames of desire flickering back to life. "Baby," you warned again, this time with a hint of a whine.

Joe chuckled, his grip tightening as he kissed your neck. "Please," he whispered, his breath tickling your skin.

You tried to resist, but Joe's hands were already working your magic. He reached around and cupped your breasts, his thumbs circling your hardened nipples. You gasped, dropping the spatula as you leaned back into him. He took that as the invitation it was meant to be and ground his hips against yours, his length pressing into you. "See?" he murmured, his teeth grazing your ear. "I know exactly what you need."

Your body betrayed you, arching into his touch. "You're so annoying," you managed to say, but your voice was thick with need.

Joe chuckled, his hands sliding down your body until they found the hem of your, or rather his, t-shirt. He began to lift it, his knuckles brushing against your bare skin as he revealed your stomach. You squirmed, trying to focus on cooking, but it was a futile effort. His touch was intoxicating, his presence overwhelming.

"Joe," you said, your voice a breathy whisper. "The food."

"Fuck the food," he growled, his hands continuing to lift the shirt from your body. He tossed it aside, revealing your bare breasts and a black g-string he didn’t recognize. His cock twitched with approval. "What’s this? New lingerie for me?"

You turned in his arms, your own desire flaring up at his words. You pushed him back playfully, your eyes dark with passion. "If you want to eat, you'll let me cook," you said, your voice a seductive purr.

Joe's smile didn’t reach his full expression. His blue eyes darkened as he took in the sight of his darling wife, half-dressed and flushed with arousal. He stepped back into his position behind you, giving your ass a firm spank before squeezing a toned cheek in his large hand. Your head fell forward with a gasp as you tried to compose yourself, a moan slipping past your lips involuntarily at the sudden roughness.

If he heard your challenge, he paid it no mind. Hand coming up once more to deliver another smack to your ass, he watched the flesh jiggle before bending down to kiss the tender spot he’d just abused. His tongue darted out to taste your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your breath hitched, the heat between you palpable as Joe’s hands wandered further down, his fingertips tracing the damp fabric that barely covered your sex.

“We can multitask,” Joe murmured against your skin, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot where his hand last made contact with your ass. His fingertips danced over the fabric of your underwear, teasing the entrance to your warmth.

Your hands tightened around the handle of the spatula as you bit back a moan. "Joe," you protested again, though your voice was less steady this time. You knew he could feel you tremble against him, could see the way your pussy was already growing wet. You tried to push him away, but your legs felt like jelly, your resolve dissolving with every touch.

"Cut the stove off," Joe said, his voice a low growl. "I'm gonna have to eat something else." His hand slipped the g-string to the side, his fingers finding your slick folds. Your knees nearly buckled as he began to circle your entrance, your eyes fluttering shut. You knew you had lost.

Your hands scrambled to turn the stove off, the sizzle of the bacon fading into the background as Joe’s touch grew more insistent. He didn’t wait for permission, sliding the panties down with a groan of appreciation that echoed through the kitchen. Your slick heat was all he could think about, all he wanted to taste. He dropped to his knees behind you, his eyes feasting on your bare ass and the smell of the glistening pussy he could already see fluttering with desire.

“Put your knee on the counter,” Joe whispered, his breath hot against your skin. You looked over your shoulder, your eyes meeting his intense gaze before you complied, your heart racing. You knew where this was heading and you couldn’t wait.

Joe swore to himself as he watched your pussy spread for him. Your hands grasped at the counter for balance as your pussy continued to flutter with anticipation. He hummed in appreciation as his strong hands gripped your ass, pulling you even further apart. His tongue flicked out, tasting the sweetness of your arousal as you gasped, your body taut with need. He took his time, savoring the moment, exploring every inch of you with his mouth.

You couldn’t help but lean further over the counter. Her pretty little pussy was on full display to him, almost begging for his mouth. Joe took full advantage, burying his face in your wetness. He sucked eagerly at your clit while one of his thumbs circled your entrance, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your moans grew louder, echoing through the kitchen as you lost yourself in the sensation. Her hand reached back to grip his hair, pulling him closer, silently demanding more.

Joe was more than happy to oblige. His tongue delved into you, tasting you deep, feeling your muscles tighten around his thumb. Your hips began to rock back into him, your moans turning into cries of pleasure. You were so close, so beautifully close to the edge, and Joe could feel his dick throb with the anticipation of watching you fall over the edge. He picked up the pace, his tongue flicking faster against your clit, his thumb pressing deeper into you.

Your legs began to wobble as the intensity grew, your knuckles turning white as you clutched the counter. "Baby," you gasped, your voice strained. "You’re so good."

Joe groaned in response, his mouth never leaving you as he felt your orgasm building. He knew your body like the back of his hand, knew exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you scream his name. And scream you did, your body convulsing as you came, your juices flooding his mouth. He drank you in, loving the taste of you, loving the way you felt as you lost control.

When you finally went still, panting and trembling, Joe stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Fuck, you taste good," he murmured, his voice gruff with desire.

You turned to face him, your eyes glazed over with satisfaction. "Are you going to let me cook now?" you asked, though the playfulness in your tone suggested you didn't really mind the interruption.

“Nope. I need you to squirt that goodness all over me again, baby,” Joe said, his eyes glinting with mischief as he stepped closer to you, his own length straining against his sweatpants.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his audacity. But as he stepped closer, you felt your resolve melt away like butter in the pan. You leaned back against the counter, your body still humming from your orgasm. Joe stepped between your legs, his erection pressing against your stomach as he kissed you deeply. He gently lifted you up onto the counter, laying you back as his hands drew your long legs to rest on his broad shoulders.

He slid your thighs apart, revealing your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze. His cock throbbed in anticipation as he leaned in to kiss you again, his tongue delving into your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, your hips raising to meet his as he rubbed his clothes cock against your wet folds.

With a groan, Joe reached into his sweatpants and freed his erection, the tip already slick with pre-cum. He positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes glued to your pussy. You nodded, your breath coming in ragged pants as you gave him the unspoken permission he needed. With one swift movement, he slid into you, filling you completely. You both gasped as your bodies connected, the heat and friction setting off sparks that seemed to light up the kitchen.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me,” Joe growled, his voice thick with need as he began to move, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your hands reaching for your breasts to pinch and squeeze your nipples as Joe’s rhythm grew more intense. You could feel your orgasm building again, the sensation coiling in your belly like a tight spring.

Joe’s grip on your thighs tightened, his hips moving faster, the slap of your bodies filling the kitchen. He leaned down to whisper dirty words in your ear, his breath hot and ragged, his eyes never leaving yours. "You like that, don’t you? Being fucked like this?"

“Yes, baby, yes,” you moaned, your eyes fluttering closed as Joe’s cock filled you completely, his strokes hitting all the right spots. You felt your climax approaching, your body tightening around him like a vice. “Fuck me.”

Joe’s eyes darkened at your words, his pace quickening as he pounded into you. He could feel your pussy grip him, your walls pulsing with each thrust. The sight of you spread out before him, your legs trembling with pleasure, was almost too much to handle. He leaned in to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he whispered more dirty words into your ear.

“Come for me, baby,” Joe urged, his voice strained with his own need. His strokes grew faster, more erratic, as he felt himself approaching the brink. “I wanna feel you come around me again."

Your eyes snapped open, your gaze locking onto Joe’s. You could feel the tension in his arms, the way his muscles flexed with each thrust. You knew he was close, and that knowledge only served to push you closer to the edge. With a cry, you shattered, your pussy clamping down on Joe’s cock as waves of pleasure crashed through you.

Joe groaned, his eyes squeezed shut as he felt your orgasm wash over him. He didn’t hold back, giving in to his own need as he thrust into you one final time, his cock pulsing with his release. You held onto each other for a moment, your breathing ragged, your bodies slick with sweat and desire.

Finally, Joe pulled out, his cock glistening with your combined juices. He stepped back, his eyes raking over your flushed body, still sprawled out on the kitchen counter. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at the sight of you, so beautifully wrecked by his touch. "Fuck," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “You’re so sexy when you come like that, babe."

You couldn’t help the smug smile that curved your lips as you watched Joe try to compose himself. You knew you looked a mess, your hair sticking to your face, your body flushed and trembling, but you felt alive, more alive than you had in a long time.

"You think so?" you asked, your voice teasing. "Maybe I should just stay like this all day."

Joe chuckled, shaking his head as he stepped closer to you. "As tempting as that is, we both know we’d never get anything done if you stayed naked all day," he said, his eyes traveling over your body with a mix of admiration and desire. He reached for your hand, helping you hop off the counter. "But I'm not saying we can't revisit the idea another day.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Maybe next time, you can actually let me cook breakfast," you said, though the smile on your face suggested you didn’t mind the detour.

Joe leaned in for a kiss, his lips capturing yours in a passionate embrace. "Deal," he murmured against your mouth. "But only if you promise to let me eat you out again."

Your cheeks flushed, a giggle escaping you as you swatted his shoulder. "You're so horny all the time," you accused, though the spark in your eyes suggested you liked it.

"Can you blame me?" Joe retorted, his gaze roving over your naked body with a hunger that hadn’t been sated. "Look at you”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t keep the smile from your lips as you bent down to pick up your discarded underwear. "You're so annoying," you teased, tossing the garment at him.

Joe caught it in midair, holding it up with a grin. "But you love it," he said, stepping closer to you. He stepped into your space, his own body still flushed from your recent activity. "And I'll never get enough of you."

You couldn't argue with that. You stepped into him, your body fitting against his perfectly as your mouths met in a kiss that was as sweet as it was passionate. You felt the heat of his body, the steady thump of his heart beneath your palm as you wrapped your arms around his neck. For a moment, the kitchen and the world outside it faded away, and all that mattered was the two of you, your love and your desire.

When you broke apart, your smile was soft, your eyes warm with affection. "Let's get cleaned up and then eat," you said, your voice still breathless. "I didn’t make this food for nothing."

Joe nodded, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned to help you plate the food. He placed a delicate kiss on your shoulder, the warmth of his breath making you shiver. You ate at the island, leaning into Joe’s muscular body as you stood naked together.

The scent of the crispy bacon and the eggs filled the kitchen, making your stomachs growl. You took your first bites, savoring the flavors that melded together perfectly. Despite your earlier distraction, the breakfast was heavenly, a testament to your culinary skills.

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stevebabey · 1 year ago

Text

Dustin denotes his plan as a stroke of genius. Steve calls it fucking crazy.

It is crazy — going down to the police station and giving a completely faux alibi for Eddie is crazy.

But then, Steve recalls the handcuffs on the hospital bed, keeping him strapped in even though Eddie’s hardly in a state for escape, all bandages and wires. Steve remembers the fitful sleeps he’s witnessed when visiting, remembers Eddie’s ashamed whisper of fear that one of the officers would smother him in his sleep if no one stayed with him.

Steve remembers the bats. Remembers all the other shit Eddie got dragged through.

And if Steve can lessen that blow… well, then maybe he is crazy for going through with the plan.

There’s no prepping Eddie for it, of course, considering he’s being guarded around the clock. Steve thinks it’s ridiculous considering how feeble he feels just looking at Eddie. When he— when they had gotten him out, there was a moment where he was more blood than boy. Just jagged skin held together by Steve’s hands and sheer will.

He shivers involuntarily. This is crazy, Steve thinks, shifting a bit in the chair out the front of Eddie’s room, waiting for the discussion across the hall to meet its end. It’s crazy, but he’s already done it now.

Sharp footsteps sound across the hallway and Steve’s head yanks up. His heart beats too fast and he presses his palms down into his jeans to wipe them, standing up quickly.

“So?” He asks, eyes darting between Chief Powell and Deputy Callahan.

“That’s quite the alibi you’ve provided, Mr Harrington.” There’s a cool expression on Chief Powell’s face, giving away nothing. “One that not many would be so willing to give.”

Steve swallows. Presses down the panic tied to the implications of what he’s told them— him and Eddie. Him and Eddie together.

“We’d like to question Mr Munson a little as well, get everything settled. You know,” He makes a little gesture with his hand. “Make sure your stories line up.”

A new strain of panic jolts in Steve’s stomach and he hopes it doesn’t show on his face. Glancing over his shoulder, he peers between the blinds and tries to find Eddie’s face. He can only see the hospital bed, stark white sheets and hundreds of tubes. Steve tries to remember that he anticipated this, he prepared for this.

“Now?” He asks, turning back to face the officers. He tries to appear like his uneasiness comes from concern, instead of panic. “He’s just had another dose of morphine, I’m not sure how up to questions he’ll be.”

Chief Powell narrows his eyes. Steve silently begs him to take the bait — he doesn’t want to defer the questioning, he just needs a little more wiggle room in case Eddie is slow on the uptake. He’s a performer though. Steve hopes that’ll be enough to convince them.

“Now is best.”

Steve nods, his face grave. “I understand. Just… if he’s a bit slow, give him time to find his answers. He doesn’t know that I’ve… told you.”

Steve’s hand presses down on the handle to the room and the door opens with a hiss. He enters the room, his eyes landing on the officer posted by the door first before they travel onto the bed, to Eddie.

The chair beside the bed is empty for now which means Wayne must be off getting some food. Good, Steve thinks. This will be easiest with a smaller audience to convince.

Eddie’s eyes are closed, resting as best he can, but at the new noise they peek open. The ripple of happy emotion will help their case immensely but Steve delights in the fact that that reaction is genuine. Eddie is happy to see him.

“Big boy!” He rasps as a greeting. He waves one hand up, wires sticking out of it and the handcuff on it clinks uncomfortably, and he begins a spiel. “Welcome back to my humble—”

He cuts himself off when he sees there are other visitors today besides Steve. The heart monitor jumps and Eddie’s hand drops, eyes back onto Steve in an instant.

“What’s going on?”

Steve strides to his side, his hand reaching out to curl his fingers around Eddie’s limp hand. His skin is cool to touch, fingers icy. Surprise jumps onto Eddie’s face but his fingers tighten their grip, holding his hand too. Steve sits down in the seat beside the bed and lets the real nerves of the situation make his voice tremble when he speaks.

“I— I had to tell them, Eddie. About your real alibi.”

To his credit, Eddie only lets confusion wash over his face for a moment before it turns to some mixture of anger and sadness. A furrow forms between his brows, his grip on Steve’s hand tightening, and Steve doesn’t think he’s acting at all when he says, “You didn’t.”

Huh. Maybe he’s figured it out after all, Steve thinks.

Steve nods solemnly, letting his thumb wander over the back of Eddie’s hand. He remembers what it’s like to dote on girls, on Nancy, and find it’s not nearly as hard to bring it all out for Eddie either.

“I had to,” He murmurs, reaching a hand out to brush back some of Eddie’s hair. The heart monitor spikes again and Eddie’s cheeks glow pink.

Behind them, Chief Powell clears his throat and Steve jumps, remembering himself and what he’s trying to accomplish here.

“Excuse us, Mr. Munson, we have a few questions for you.”

There’s a moment where they let their words register and Eddie takes a deep breath, squeezing Steve’s hand and giving a little nod. Chief Powell continues.

“Mr. Harrington here has come forward with a statement that would place you elsewhere than the scene of the crime at the time of Miss Cunningham’s murder. Can you recall where you were that night?”

The mention of Chrissy’s name makes Eddie flinch and Steve’s glad he’s already holding his hand so he can squeeze it gently. Eddie’s gaze drops to their intertwined hands and stares hard for a moment. Shuffling puzzle pieces into place.

Steve leans down, presses a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles, and says “Tell them the truth.”

Eddie inhales sharply, steeling his nerves and turns his attention back to the officers. “I was with Steve. We were… we were at his house.”

Chief Powell nods, scratching words down in his notepad. He hums in a way that tells Eddie to keep going.

“We were…” Eddie trails off and looks to Steve, trying to follow the story already planted. Steve nods, hoping it comes off like he’s trying to be comforting boyfriend, instead of a subtle nudge.

“…Kissing.”

Steve resists the urge to snort at the absurdity of the whole situation. This whole thing is so convoluted and it’s twisted that Eddie’s even been accused but Steve’s putting his fuckin’ reputation on the line and Eddie says they’ve been kissing?

He doesn’t even need to turn around to know some eyebrows have raised behind him.

“Kissing?” Steve hears Chief Powell repeat. “Just… kissing?”

Eddie’s attention snaps forward again and Steve can see him piece together the snappy persona, the Freak, the scary dog privileges that come with being an outsider. He straightens up a bit, shoulders squaring but Steve can feel the quake in his hand.

“I’m sorry, did you want a play by play of the whole act, Chief Powell? I can go into detail if you want, who took who’s pants off first, yanno, but I didn’t peg you for that kinda guy.”

Steve can’t miss this reaction, turning his head to watch both officers shuffle uncomfortably on the spot. Chief Powell tries to keep his power, eyes narrowing, but it’s hard to maintain when Steve dots another quick kiss across Eddie’s knuckle.

“Very well.” He seems to land on. “We’ll be back to collect a formal statement later—”

Eddie gives a faint squeak, his hand grasping Steves that much tighter.

“—but I’m happy to have the guard and cuffs removed from your room for now.”

A sigh so large escapes Eddie that his chest deflates a good couple inches and Steve feels his own shoulders relax a bit. Chief Powell steps forward, key retrieved from his belt and Steve winces seeing the ring of irritated skin around Eddie’s wrist. No doubt caused from the thrashing of night terrors.

He releases Eddie’s hand long enough for it to be freed, scooping it back up in his as soon as he can, properly this time. All fingers intertwined, palm to palm. Eddie eyes their hands again and Steve pretends to not hear the jump in the heart monitor.

The officers leave, including the one holding post, the door sliding shut with a gentle click and Steve holds himself still— unsure of how to start explaining what he had sprung on Eddie. He feels bad, dropping him in the deep end, even if it was for his own good.

“Eddie—” He starts.

“Hug me.” Eddie hisses out the corner of his mouth. When Steve doesn’t react, he says it again, fiercer - it doesn’t match the way he’s smiling so sweetly at Steve. “Hug. Me.”

Steve does as he’s told, shooting up onto his feet and hesitating only for a moment before Eddie’s arms are creeping around his waist — he leans over and tries to keep his weight off him. Eddie’s frazzled curls tickle at his cheek and Steve just burrows his face in further.

There’s a faint whisper into his ear. “They were watching still.”

Steve pulls back a bit, not to check over his shoulder, but to see Eddie’s face. He’s serious, eyes skirting the window behind them but the moment Steve pulls back, his eyes shift down and he softens.

“And now… kiss me too?” He says. His tone conveys that he knows he’s being far too cheeky. Steve’s wonders if the officers are still watching. Wonders if he’d still kiss him even if they weren’t. He casts a glance over his shoulder and is met with a empty window, the officers retreating down the hall.

He turns back to Eddie with an incredulous expression. “What? Getting you off murder charges not good enough for you?”

Eddie’s face shutters for a moment, as though every emotion to do with Steve’s sacrifice floods him at once. There’s a burst of gratitude when he doesn’t mention it — doesn’t mention everything Steve might be giving up for Eddie, everything that might crumble should the details of the case become public.

He chooses the joke again. Eddie always does.

“Yes, but remember, we’re madly in love,” Eddie sings, brows wiggling about on his face and making Steve snort. “So feel free to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

Steve snorts. “Duly noted, Munson.”

Eddie throws his head back softly against his pillow and pretends to wail in pain. “Munson? That’s all I am to you? That’s how you treat your boyfriend?”

Steve can’t help but grin a little at the theatrics and finds himself thinking that of all the people to be stuck pretending he’s dating, at least with Eddie, it’ll be enjoyable. Well, at least interesting. It will certainly be an experience.

“You have no idea how I treat my boyfriends, baby.” Steve says, voice low, just to see if he can get Eddie’s heart monitor to jump again. It does, a steady beeping as the BPM climbs up a few numbers.

Steve can feel the blush on Eddie’s cheeks, he’s so close, and it’s so nice to see colour on his face — such a stark comparison to the paleness of- well, of older memories.

Steve grins. Despite every nerve that feels singed beneath his skin, overworked from all his anxiety — despite considering every potential backlash that faces both them outside this room, outside the hospital, Steve searches within himself.

He can’t find one single ounce of regret.

next part.

#gay ppl in my phone…. take this humble offering to tide u over between fics #everything has become long #i cannot help it #every idea is like 5k+ words #this is me trying to combat it #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #pre steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #uhhhh that’s all folks #this is indeed the trope of steve telling the police they were fucking for their alibi lmao #10 points if u can guess which line is from the hunger games!#that’s what inspired this

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mariasont · 5 months ago

Note

Could you do a story where Y/N Is taken in a hostage situation and we see more of a dark hotch? like that early episode where hotch and reid are hostages in the hospital?

TOO EMOTIONAL - A.H

a/n: thank you so much for requestin <3 i hope this is what you were wanting!

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: honestly yall i feel like this is way darker than anything i've written so far, not sure if its good or not but alas, mentions of blood, violence, unsub threatens reader with a knife and a lighter, mentions of sexual assualt (it doesnt happen just mentions of it), unsub cuts open readers shirt, hotch is a dick for a plot, hurt/comfort

wc: 1.4k

Your vision was blurred, you fought to focus as dried blood flaked from your lashes with each heavy blink. You swallowed a cough, the floor's cold concrete punishing your knees. The ties around your wrists and ankles were merciless, digging into your flesh. You tried to focus on the sounds around you—the drip-drop of water, the soft wail of distant sirens.

In the dim light, you caught glimpses of Hotch, his distinct cologne mingling with the warehouse's musty air. He was agonizingly close yet not close enough to touch. The unsub's footsteps were barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Panic fluttered in your chest, unwanted and insistent. Only three cases in, and it seemed the universe was conspiring to reroute your career choice.

Frantically, you attempted to wipe your face on your shirt, pulse roaring in your ears as the footsteps ceased before you and Hotch. The man was a ghastly figure, burns cutting from one side of his face to the other. You couldn't breathe.

"What a day to have feds come knocking." His voice was hoarse, fingers absently playing with a lighter.

"You know, they say the most intelligent criminals are the ones who don't get caught, yet here we are," Hotch said, his chin defiantly up, words sharp and calculated.

Suddenly, the unsub was right there, his disfigured face uncomfortably close, the heat from the lighter singeing your skin. His breath was a hot, sticky assault, and you fought the instinct to flinch.

"Smart men don't leave witnesses, and I intend to be very smart about this."

The foundations of your training flitted across your consciousness, the methodologies for keeping control of the situation, but they sifted through your fingers like said, rendering you paralyzed.

"Take her then. She's new, inexperienced. Probably more trouble than she's worth." Hotch's voice was cold, jarring like a slap to the face, his expression empty of emotion.

You strained to keep your face impassive, your eyes darting to Hotch, pleading for his attention. Your breaths were shallow, scarcely there. He had to be bluffing. You felt sick. The unsub shifted his weight, scrutinizing you both, edging closer to hotch, no doubt with suspicion.

The unsub laughed, a cold and calculating sound as he circled around Hotch. "You expect me to believe you'd turn on your own that quickly? I'm not a fool."

"Look at her and tell me what her worth is to me." Hotch's voice was even, almost bored. "She's a liability. Too emotional, too soft."

His words were flung carelessly, yet they landed with precision, straight into your chest. Your teeth punished the inside of your cheek.

The remarks were like sharp barbs to your chest, instilling a hollow feeling as you attempted to convince yourself that the wetness on your lashes was anything but tears. His assessment was not unfounded. Your empathy, your sensitivity, traits deemed too tender for the harsher realities of your job, were now being used against you. Hotch had always been an exception, until now.

"Well, I could see her worth in other ways." The man's words oozed contempt, his gaze crawling over you in a way that threatened to turn your stomach. "I bet that's how she got the job in the first place, huh?"

"What do you think?" Hotch's laugh was a sinister match to the unsub's. He tilted his head in your direction. "Look at her. That's all she's been good for."

Your breath caught in your throat, your body turning as much as the ties would permit in Hotch's direction. You could almost hear your heart shattering, could feel it in Hotch's inability to face you. Was this a plan or had he truly discarded you?

You never deluded yourself into thinking you were Hotch's favorite--his reserved interactions with you made that abundantly clear. In fact, you were probably his least favorite. He had kept you at an arm's length, while seemingly forging bonds with the others that didn't seem to extend to you.

This was all within reason, given your inexperience and younger age, but the disdain lacing his words was unexpected, shredding through any pretense of professional detachment.

Hotch had never wanted you on the team, it was Rossi who had vouched for you. And now, look where that got you both.

Maybe this was all deserved.

"Then you won't mind if I try her out for myself?" The unsub's insinuation felt like a perverse validation of Hotch's doubts.

A low hum escaped the unsub as he closed the distance, his gaze predatory. You stilled, breath caught as he produced a knife from his pocket, skimming your cheek just shy of cutting. You were scared and you were scared to show it. Desperately, you looked to Hotch, the blade now hovering precariously close to your sternum.

Hotch wouldn't look at you. You wanted to scream, to cry, to throw something, but that was all shoved to the bottom of your throat as the unsub sliced down the middle of your shirt, exposing your chest and compelling your gaze to it. Tears of humiliation prickled your eyes. How could Hotch let this happen to you?

The unsub's clammy grip clung to your waist, your lips trembling as you prepared for the worst. You closed your eyes, escaping to your house in your mind—tea brewing, fireplace going—anywhere but here.

A sudden splatter to your face jolted you back, eyes opening in alarm you saw Hotch's eyes, not the unsub's.

"You're okay, you're okay," Hotch murmurs.

The words did little to comfort you, his hands moving blindly to release the binds at your wrist and ankles. Looking down, you see the unsub, knife through his back, blood pooling around him. Hotch's hands are on your wrists, his thumbs massaging away the sting.

When your hand touches your face, you feel the splatter from earlier, coming back away with a smear of blood on your fingertips.

Your voice felt like it was a prisoner inside yourself, words and sounds slipping past you like ghosts. A persistent ringing in your ears muffled all but the pungent scent of the warehouse, which clawed at your senses.

You felt the jostle of hands, the motion of being lifted, a sensation so distant it barely registered. The world was a smear of lights and faces--the team showing up, the paramedics--until it slowly came into focus.

You barely registered that Hotch was speaking to you, his words indistinct and muffled.

"What?" you asked, your speech slow to form and blurred at the edges.

You had a jacket over the front of you, his jacket, covering your exposed chest.

Hotch's eyes were pools of worry as he grasped at your hand. It was weird, the feeling of his hand in yours. You realized that was the first time you had felt it.

"More water?"

You could only nod, and he promptly fetched a bottle, twisting it open and placing it in your hand. You took a small sip.

"It's too loud," you mumbled, you were aware you weren't making sense. You shifted to face him, your knee grazing his thigh. "Did you mean those things you said?"

"Of course I didn't mean it," Hotch replied quickly, his gaze intense. "You thought I meant that?"

Your gaze dropped to your lap, voice faltering. "I don't know... I wasn't sure, I mean, no, but I just... I don't feel very useful, and this whole mess, it's because of me and I--"

Tears interrupted you, your hands fumbling to hide them. Hotch reached out, gently turning your face to his, thumb brushing away the tears.

"Hey, look at me. Don't say that. This isn't your fault. Nothing I said back there was true. I needed to distract him, had to make him concentrate on you."

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying like this," you stammered between sobs.

"You don't have to apologize. You're crying because you've been through a lot. Just breathe, take your time."

You managed a wobbly smile. "You hit the nail on the head with the too emotional part," you sniffled.

Hotch gave a small chuckle. "Your compassion, your sensitivity, it's what sets you apart as an agent--in fact, it makes you an outstanding one."

You were close now, your gaze inadvertently drawn to his lips. You could kiss him if you wanted. Not that you were in the right headspace or that it was appropriate. But you could've.

"Oh, my goodness, I'm so glad you're okay!" You were barreled into a hug, the familiar voice and blur of color of Penelope enveloping your senses.

Hotch cautioned, "Watch her head."

With Penelope's hands around you, you found yourself looking over her shoulder, locking eyes with Hotch. His gaze held a new light, a recognition that maybe, just maybe you weren't Hotch's least favorite agent after all.

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#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner hurt/comfort #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #criminal minds angst

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writtenbymoonflower · 7 months ago

Note

hii!! i hope this is where requests go! but i was wondering if you could do either a remus x reader or poly x reader- (would rather poly but idk what you prefer) where they’ve been getting bruises from somewhere, but they don’t rlly notice it until it’s like finger prints somewhere, it could be like an ex harassing them or something? something along those lines of them being protective and hurt/comfort <33

hi sweetness! sorry it took so long! poly!marauders x gn!reader

cw: mentions of physical abuse from coworker. post-trauma stress, swearing

1.1k words

You had been growing increasingly skittish. Before these series of incidents, your boyfriends had been able to touch you whenever and wherever with little reaction. (with the exception of pleasant shivers). Sirius seemed to always have his hands in your back pockets, James had a habit of coming up behind you and nuzzling into your neck, and Remus, though not very tactile, would brush his hands appreciatively over your hips and waist. But in the past few weeks, your boys had been pulling back. And you knew the reason, you knew it was your fault.

It had started with slight flinches. When Sirius gripped your shoulder affectionately and you jumped, eyes wide with fear. At any other time, the press of his fingertips would be pleasant. But when he squeezed the broken skin- broken skin he had no knowledge of -you winced and whimpered in pain. He immediately pulled his hand back, concern notched between his dark brows, and you immediately began reassuring and apologizing. You told him that you were just tense, that his touch was unexpected but not unwelcome, but he had still been careful since then. After a string of similar circumstances with James and Remus, they had all been handing you with kid gloves.

Your behavior had changed as well. You had swapped your normal tank tops and tees for crew neck hoodies and sweaters, long sleeves to cover the purple and green spots littering your arms. Your face had been permanently tense in an attempt to stifle grimaces from rising up. You were sore, mentally exhausted, chronically anxious, and your boyfriends could tell. You had been constantly reassuring them of you being fine, but you could see their suspicion growing with every attempt. You could feel the tension thick in the air, attempting to rear its ugly head.

Despite every attempt to seem normal, you still flinched when James touched your back, trying to pass behind you.

“Right behind you, lovely” instead the usual comfort James’ voice carried, it put you on edge, making you inhale sharply, tensing your whole body.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, shaking your head and squeezing your eyes shut, urging the panic to leave your body. Only when your breathing slowed down did you realize the crippling silence that had taken over the room.

“Are you sure you’re okay, sweet thing?” Sirius probed, unusually careful. He was eyeing you suspiciously over his laptop screen. You quickly fixed your face, grateful for the distance the bar island put between you and your investigating boyfriend.

“Yup. I’m all good, just startled me ‘s all.” You went back to chopping the vegetables in front of you with slightly too much vigor. The boys were still silent. You quickly changed the subject. “Remmy, can you grab the turkey from the fridge for me, please?”

“Sure, dovey.” He walked behind you to get to the icebox. You made sure not to shudder as he made his way. He stopped, looking over your shoulder. Every nerve was standing to attention.

“You okay, honey?” You did everything to keep your voice from coming out strained.

“I’m okay.” Remus sounded slightly confused. “Here, sweetheart. Your sleeves are going to get in the way.” He reached over to roll your sleeves up. A sweet gesture at its core, but you still froze in panic. He pulled them all the way up to your elbows. You just stared at the cutting board, wincing when James hissed, quickly making his way over to inspect further. Sirius took his computer glasses off, nearly catapulting himself over the bar.

“Fuck, baby. What happened to you?” Sirius went straight to the issue. He grabbed your wrist, tilting your stained flesh towards the light. There were small, round splotches on the delicate skin of your wrist. Before you could find an excuse, Remus took your wrist. When he held your arm, his fingers fitting almost perfectly into the marks, he inhaled deeply.

“Who the fuck did this.” Remus bit out. James reached over to place a hand on his shoulder and Sirius gave him a pleading look, but nothing was going to calm him. Usually it would be Remus calming Sirius down, but when Remus’ fierce protectiveness comes out, nothing can pull it back in. In these cases, Sirius acts as the calmer one.

“Rem, it’s ok-” You started.

“It’s not fucking okay! Someone put their goddamn hands on you and I need to know who did it.” Despite his voice growing in volume, he was still handling you ever so gently. James still moved between you and Remus, suspecting that Remus’ extremely visible stress would only put you more on edge.

“Sweetheart,” James started, keeping his voice calm, even as it wobbled with worry. “Is this why you’ve been so tense lately?” Before another denial could form on your tongue, James continued. “Please, lovely. You can tell us. We won’t be mad, we just want to help you.” His dark eyes were searching your face, looking for any shred of emotion to cling to.

Everything just felt so raw. You knew you were being ganged up on, drowned with affection and it was all too much. You pressed your lips together to keep them from wobbling but it was no use. Your eyes filled with hot tears and sobs started to wrack your body. Weeks of pent-up hurt came spilling out.

“I just-” You struggled to get the words out between too-fast breaths. The boys caged you in, but for the first time in weeks, you felt comforted rather than clutched.

“Take your time, baby. It’s okay. We’re not going to leave you.” Sirius smoothed your hair out of your damp face.

“T-they hired someone at work. I-I used to know them.” You struggled. Pausing to suck in small bits of air. You could see questions spinning in their heads, but they didn’t interrupt. “I guess I make them mad. I’ve always made them mad. I don’t mean to, but I just d- do.”

“Nothing.” Remus’ voice was sharp, but terribly kind. “Nothing you could do would make this okay. This is not your fault. Never has been, never was. No matter how upset they are, they don't get to hurt you.” You kept shaking, hot tears dripping off of your jaw.

“I-” You struggled. “I’ve been so scared.” When you said this, Sirius caged you in his arms. You knew this struck a nerve with him too.

“I know, baby. I know. I’m so so sorry you’ve been dealing with this yourself. It must have been so hard. But we’ve got you now. You’re going to be okay.” You couldn’t get words out anymore, but it was okay. They would stay with you until you could.

“We aren’t going to let them do this to you anymore, you hear me?” James pulled your face out of Sirius’ neck to make you look at him. “We’re going to fix this.”

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lqveharrington · 19 days ago

Text

Golden Snitch | D.M.

summary: You don’t tell Draco what you’re dressing up as, and when he sees you, he can’t help but be enamored.

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

includes: kissing, underage drinking, talks of sex, cursing

a/n: holding a poll for a similar imagine but a different character! (will post the other imagine in two days and poll in three!)

Halloween was a big thing at Hogwarts. Each house held their own parties and own costume competitions; There would be snacks — courtesy of the kitchen elves — and drinks smuggled in from home or Hogsmeade. It was one of the best nights throughout the school year.

From your fourth year to your very last, you enjoyed every single second. Of course, you were dressed differently every year in hopes to win the costume contests. You were the Corpse Bride, then Dorothy, then a pirate. But this year, you chose something a little closer to Hogwarts itself.

“You know we have to get down there now if you want to be in the competition, right?” Pansy flicked her hair back and adjusted her Cher outfit.

You huffed and finished the last bits of gold adorning your cheeks. You loved Pansy, you really did, but jesus, she was a stickler to rules and schedules sometimes.

“Look, I’m done now.” You dust your hands off and arrange your golden wings to be more presentable. “How do I look?”

“Hot.” Her eyes roamed over your body and winked at you. “Draco will totally drool.”

You send her an amused smile before rushing out the dorm hand in hand. When you got to the Slytherin common room, everyone and everything was already upbeat. The lights had been dimmed even more and green lights were casted all around. The floor was sticky in spilt drinks and the room reeked of sex.

"Let's go get drinks!" Pansy shouted over the loud music and elbowed her way through the mass of Slytherin students, gagging when one couple was getting too intimate on the dance floor. "I am so happy you and Draco have boundaries!"

You roll your eyes at her and grab a plastic cup, filling it with firewhisky and downing it fast enough to forget what Pansy had said. She gave you an unimpressed look and took her own shot.

After joining the infamous costume contest and winning, mingling with the others and downing more drinks, a fifth year finally announced the arrival of the Slytherin Prince himself. And the party only got rowdier from there.

The second the blonde stepped into the common room, drinks were shoved into his hands; A courtesy of Blaise. Draco made his way over to the group of seventh years he deemed his friends since childhood before his eyes landed on you.

His eyes roamed across your body. From the golden makeup adorning your gorgeous face to the golden dress that hugged your curves and accentuated them, it was like he fell in love all over again. He watched you down another drink and shook his head in amusement. You looked so confident and happy and excited and ethereal in what you wore that he wanted to keep you all to himself.

“Well, what do we have here?” His free hand found its way to the curve of your hip and pulled you close to him, smirking when your eyes get blown wide at his sudden presence. “You look ravishing.”

“I know. I won the competition like always.” You brag as you murmur and wrap a hand around his tie, softly tugging on it so you could meet his lips without needing to strain. “And who are you supposed to be?”

“James Bond.” He pulled you even closer, wanting to be completely flush against you. “But I should’ve worn my Quidditch uniform because I believe I have my eye on the golden snitch.”

The smile that graced your lips practically emits warmth when you realize Draco knew what you were. “You should probably keep your sight on her because she’s not straying far.”

“Better not.” He planted a mind searing kiss to your lips and thumbed the costume, parting when he felt how rough it was. “Your dress feels uncomfortable to the touch, love. It’s not real gold, is it?”

“No, not all of it. Daddy wouldn’t let me get one.” You sigh as you lean your head on his chest and hiccup when he pats your ass softly at the remark.

Draco could practically see the flashing signs around you saying how plastered you were, and it was truly entertaining at the most. He knew you were drunk when you flaunted your father’s money around, which you typically never do. He finished his cup before tossing it somewhere, holding your hip with two hands now.

You look up at him at the movement, wide eyes only reflecting your pupils. “What?”

“Nothing, love. Just admiring.” He scanned your body once more and planted a kiss to the top of your head. “How many drinks have you had so far?”

You shrug and gasp when someone poured a fresh round right behind Draco. “Let’s go get some more!”

He shook his head and locked his arms behind you, “No more for you. You are so fucking drunk.”

“I am not!” You huff and almost stomp your golden heel on the ground like a spoiled child. “Blaise and Pansy are! They’re practically fucking behind you!”

Draco pursed his lips and pulled you away from the center of the common room. It was funny how only during Halloween you would be more drunk than he was. Any other time, he would be absolutely plastered and ready to throw you over his shoulder for some quality time in the bedroom. Besides, he was also drunk, but not as drunk as you were at the moment.

“Hey—!” You whine and stumble up the staircase to his dorm. “Where are we going?”

“You’re done for tonight, my love.” He opened his shared dorm and quickly shut it behind him, quieting the room from the loud mass of music and people downstairs.

You blink at the sudden quietude and look up at him with eyes that made him want to abandon everything and take you there. Draco cleared his throat and adjusted himself, rubbing his palms against his eyes.

“Let’s get you changed into comfortable clothing, yeah?” He dug through his clothes to find a sweater and guided you toward the bathroom, flicking the light on.

“Draco?” You mumble as he sat you down on the counter and pulled your golden pumps off. “Draco.”

“Yes, baby?” He look up at you from his kneeled position, eyes equally blown wide. “What is it?”

You blink again and just watch him for a little longer, keeping eye contact with the blonde. Even in your intoxicated state you still found time to admire him.

“Nothing.” You sent him a cheeky smile at his expression, taking off your golden wings and handing them to him.

He stood from his spot and kissed your shoulder, “Do you wanna shower or go straight to bed?”

“Bed.” You yawn.

Draco hummed and helped your stand, slowly removing your dress and replacing it with his quidditch sweater. You smiled tiredly and leaned your body against his when he began wiping the makeup off your face, playing with the end of his tie.

“You remembered.” You murmur sleepily, blindly reaching for your toothbrush you kept in the boys dorm.

“I’ve been doing this for two years straight, I think I would know.” He handed you your toothbrush and toothpaste before removing the rest of your makeup and golden pins from your hair. “There.”

“Thank you.” You spoke with your toothbrush still in your mouth and leaned against the counter as Draco moved around you to change.

When you were both settled into bed, you wanted to just fall asleep right then and there, but you still had one thing to do. Your body was practically on top of his when you thought of it, your head rested on his bare shoulder.

“Draco?” You murmur and trace hearts on his chest, splaying your hand over his beating heart.

“Yeah?” He tilted his head over to you, resting his cheek on the top of your head.

“Happy third year anniversary.” You smile softly and fiddle with the promise ring he got you years ago.

“Happy anniversary, my love.” He hugged you tighter, head now buried in your shoulder and neck. “Thank you for being amazing.”

You kiss his cheek and sigh, “I love you.”

“I love you more than you could ever know.” Draco murmured and kissed you properly. “Cheers to three years.”

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