#i need to squeeze him real tight with hugs and kisses | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rubiehart · 2 months ago

Text

DARLIN’ YOU SEND ME…

pairing: wife!reader x husband!jj maybank

summary: you’re feeling insecure about your pregnancy body, jj is quick to rectify that…

warnings: descriptions of real bodies, reader is insecure about her pregnant body, jj jokes about drinking readers breast milk?, allusions to sex, praise kink goes off.

a/n: wanted this to be more angsty but couldn’t bring myself to do it, personally i’ve never had a baby so of course i can’t particularly know what goes through a new mother’s head in moments like these, but i hope i did the topic justice! lmk and hope you love ♡︎

♪ You Send Me - Otis Redding ♪

JJ grips his toolbox tighter in his right hand, the litter of silver rings adorning his fingers scratching against the plastic of the handle, most he’d been wearing since he was a kid, some gifted by you, some he’d stolen. His wedding ring sits on his fourth finger, engraved with waves and your initials.

His heavy boots trudge against the wooden steps to your little home as he whistles casually to himself, some song he’d heard on the radio, or maybe from you, he’s not quite sure and he doesn’t give it enough thought before he’s wiping off his boots on the little ‘Welcome’ mat before letting himself inside.

Instead of being met with the sight of his beautiful wife on the couch, or in the kitchen cooking up something delectable. Instead, he’s met with stillness.

His eyebrows pull together in confusion, placing down his toolbox on the dining table, which is littered with toys, and upon a quick glance around the house, pretty much everywhere else is a mess of dress up gowns and baby dolls, curtesy of his own little whirlwind, his baby girl Quinnie. He shrugs off his flannel to reveal his slightly grease stained wife beater underneath, licking once over his lips like he did when he was thinking, wondering where you are.

Then, all his questions are answered as you come around the corner from the bedroom, wearing just one of his old threadbare shirts, the neckline a little torn and stretched from where you’d cut it to make it an off the shoulder fit when you were around seventeen, and a pair of cotton underwear that hugs your newly thick thighs, the fat jiggling softly in the warm light with each step you take closer to him.

The ‘J’ necklace he’d bought you for your first anniversary hangs between your milk heavy breasts concealed by your t-shirt. Your tired eyes land on his in the low lighting , eyelashes looking longer and darker in this light, and he smiles softly at the image of his beautiful wife as you drag your bare feet across the creaky floorboards to meet him in the entryway.

His blue eyes widen slightly as he takes in the sight of you, his shirt hanging loosely off your shoulders, but the fabric stretched tight across your full breasts. He meets your eyes with an appreciative hum and quickly closes the distance between you, pulling you into a sweet embrace in his strong arms, caging you in and the pressure against your tired body feels nice.

“Already put Quinn down.” You mumble against his cotton covered chest, feeling him press his lips to your crown, the light stubble on his chin rubbing against the tender flesh. Your eyelashes flutter closed at the sensation, sighing softly against him and then taking a deep breath, the scent of him filling your nostrils: sea salt, a hint of sweat and the last hints of the old spice cologne he’d patted on this morning, the same one that had filled your senses that morning when he’d given you a soft kiss to your sleeping cheek and left for work.

JJ let’s out a soft breath of laughter into your hair, hands trailing down your sides and landing on your hips, one hand dipping under the hem of your shirt to rest his palm against your lower back, needing to feel closer to you than he already is. Other hand squeezing affectionally at your hip.

“Always bein’ super mom, huh? That’s my girl.”

Your heart flutters a little at his words, his intentions surface level but it hits a little deeper considering you’d been having doubts about your capabilities with Quinn, and as a mother in general, especially with another baby on the way now. The validation that you still are still his girl ,after everything.

He can feel the subtle shift in your embrace, the way you cling a little tighter, chest pressed to his a little more, has him wondering if he’s done something. He pulls back slightly, hands moving up to your upper arms, thumb stroking softly over the soft skin as he searches your eyes for a hint of anything you’re hiding beneath the surface.

“You okay, mama?”

Your eyes flick up to his, lashes kissing the heavens and it always makes his heart grow a little fonder each time you look at him like he hung the moon and stars, the height difference only fuelling the fire in his heart, and seemingly also in his lower abdomen. “‘M okay, Jayj.”

His hands move up lovingly and his calloused thumb runs across your cheekbone softly, not fully convinced but knows not to push you when you’re closed off like this. “You sure? ‘Cause you know when I see those wheels turning in that head o’ yours..”

His free hand moves a little rapidly, silver bands glinting in the light and you smile fondly at the blonde boy. The hand that’s still against your face is a glimpse of his softer side and you lean into his touch, eye fluttering closed for a second as you hum contently. “‘M sure.”

JJ let’s out a soft defeated sigh, it’s not like he wasn’t anticipating that exact answer though. His thumb stays creasing the soft skin of your face as he looks at you with a concerned expression, eyebrows drawn together.

“Promise me you’ll tell if anythin’s wrong, yeah? I can tell when you’re not yourself and it drives me crazy not knowin’ whats goin’ on.”

“Promise.” You mumble, blinking a little slow as tiredness overtakes you, standing on your toes, legs a little wobbly to press a soft kiss to his chapped lips, your softer ones making him melt as he feels the swell of your bump against his lower stomach. You smell like baby powder and Quinn’s lavender lotion, he notes.

He wraps his arms around your waist, muscles of his tan forearms rippling under the skin, he rests his chin on top of your head and breathes you in again. “Good.” He seals it with a soft peck to your lips when you pull away, much to his dismay. “Why don’t ya go sit down an’ Ill make us some dinner. You must be starvin’.” He kisses at your temple softly and sends you off with an affectionate tap to your ass.

You let him brush past you into the moonlit kitchen, taking a seat at the toy littered dinner table, letting out a sigh as you push them all to one side. The room is only illuminated by the warm lamp in the corner of the connected living room, and it highlights the muscles in his back as he slings a rag over his shoulder. You pull one leg up to your chest on the chair, chin rested against your knee as you eye him with a soft appreciative smile of your husband.

“How was work?” You keep your volume low, aware of Quinn’s sleeping form just down the hall, one hand comes to rest against your bump against the threadbare t-shirt.

JJ flashes you a soft smile over his shoulder at the sound of your voice, stirring something fragrant in a pot on the stove. “Eh, the usual. Guy showed up with a flat tire, some lady spilled coffee all over her Sedan’s interior.. Ain’t never a dull moment, that’s for sure.”

You let a soft breath of laughter through your nose, stroking your thumb softly over over your bump underneath your shirt, letting a comfortable silence fall over your little family as he works on dinner to feed his babies, you and little man, excusing your sleeping two year old down the hall.

After a while, JJ plates to two servings of steaming hot pasta with marinara and brings them over to the table, and you’re salivating at this point as the delectable smell fills your nose. He sets a plate down in front of you and takes his seat across from yours.

“Eat up, mama. Gotta keep that energy up for little man in there.”

Your eyes light up at the sight of the steaming dish, only really now realising how hungry you actually were, too caught up with Quinn all day to even think about your own needs. “Thankyou, baby.” You hum, reaching for a fork to dig in.

JJ watches you dig in hungrily, one arm wrapped around your shin and the other forking at your pasta, a soft smile tugging at his lips at the sight of you eating a proper meal. He starts to eat his own but keeps half an eye on you the whole time. He reaches for his drink, muscles in his forearms rippling as he takes a sip and sets it back down, licking over his bottom lip once before he speaks.

“You talk to your mom today?”

Your eyes flick up from your plate, sucking up a string of pasta as you shake your head, brows furrowed. You swallow it down before speaking. “Why?”

He sets his glass down, his expression turning slightly worried. He knows you and your moms relationship isn’t the best, considering the whole dating, marrying and starting a family with the one and only JJ Maybank situation..

“No reason, just wondered. She hasn’t been callin’ as much lately, thought maybe y’all talked or somethin’.”

He stabs his fork into the pasta, twisting the long strings around it absently. You shrug, reflectively stabbing at a piece of chicken, not really having an answer for him.

His eyebrows pull together as he observes your overly nonchalant demeanour. He opens his mouth as if to press the matter further, but hesitates, deciding against it for now. Instead, he forces a small smile and changed the subject, nodding towards your belly with a cheekful of pasta.

Your eyes flick up to his as he begins to speak, one hand subconsciously drifting to your growing bump, stroking a gentle thumb over the skin through the cotton.

“How’s our little guy doin’ in there? You feelin’ him movin’ around much today?” JJ asks, seeming all enthusiastic and excited at the chance to hear about his baby, you smile smally at his reaction.

“Mhm, like crazy.” You hum, hand still resting against your bump. “Gotta be doin’ flips in there or somethin’.”

His face lights up at the news of your son’s energetic movements, and you almost laugh about how alike he is to his daddy in that sense. Without hesitation, JJ stands up and moves around to your side of the table, crouching down and placing one hand over yours on your stomach, eyes flicking up to yours.

“Can you feel him kickin’ right now?”

You shake your head with a soft smile and a tender heart, chewing your last bite and discarding your fork with a soft clatter onto your plate. “Think he’s sleepin’ right now, J.”

JJ’s face falls slightly, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. He keeps his hand on your belly though, giving in a gentle pat as he stands from his crouching position hands on his knees.

“‘S okay babe. He’s just conservin’ his energy for later, I bet.”

“Yeah, when I’m trynna sleep.” You groan lightheartedly, feeling him laugh too as he pressed a soft kiss to your bump, then to your temple before moving to start clearing away the dishes.

He carries the plates over to the sink and peers over his shoulder at you, stretching your arms on the chair, yawning softly, not even aware of his appreciative gaze. “You tired, darlin’?”

Your heart flutters at the pet name, one he’d only really started calling you after you’d gotten married, and it makes you feel all warm inside each and every time. “A little.” You sigh through a yawn, lifting your shirt from your stomach and your eyebrows furrow at the sight.

“Look,” You mumble, bare feet tapping against the floor as you wander over to him at the sink. “My stretch marks are gettin’ so bad.”

He sets the plate down he was scrubbing and turns to face you, his eyes immediately dropping to the area of interest. He reaches out and gently traced one of the marks with his finger, his expression softening. “They’re just part of bein’ a mama, baby. They don’t define ya.”

Your eyes meet his and they soften with love for your sweet boy, and you nod shallowly with a defeated sigh. “I know, ‘s just annoying.” You huff, letting the shirt that was once his drop back down over your bump.

JJ senses your disappointment and he’s already scheming, because there’s no way on this earth he’s letting his baby mama walk around thinking she’s anything less than perfect. “Hey,” He mumbles, arms wrapping around your waist to bring you into a gentle hug, being aware of your swelling belly between the two of you. “C’mere,”

“Let me see ‘em again.” He says gently, pulling you away gently by your shoulders to look him in the eye, moonlight bathing his angular face in a dark blue hue. “Show me one more time.”

“Why?” You mumble, eyebrows drawn together softly in confusion, but the feeling burning inside of you overtakes any need for an answer as you lift the cotton material, soft eyes trained on his face for a reaction.

His eyes soften as he leans down, expression matching yours as he presses his lips against each and every one, his hands moving softly over the skin. “Because I wanna make sure you know how fuckin’ beautiful they are on you, pretty girl. How much I love seein’ em on my girl.

You feel yourself getting a little emotional as you watch your six foot husband pepper gentle kisses all over your bump, calling you his girl and telling you how beautiful you are. Makes you wanna cry. You swallow thickly and your hands stay by your sides, pads of your fingers tapping against each other in a nervous tick.

He hears you sniffle and is immediately standing back up to his full height, cupping your soft face in his calloused hands. “Hey…you don’t gotta cry, sweetheart. You’re carryin’ our baby, makin’ me the happiest god damn man alive. These marks? They’re just-”

You watch him, eyes gleaming with tears and full of love as you cut him off, voice a little gravelly. “I love you.”

His blue eyes identically well up with unshed tears, mirroring your own emotional state. He pulls you into his strong arms, holding you tightly against his broad chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “I love you too, mama.”

Your bump presses comfortably against his firm abs, milk heavy tits pressed against his chest as you breathe slowly, basking in the feeling of being in the arms of the absolute love of your life. After a beat, you whisper into the still air. “Will you shower me?”

A slight smile crosses his face at your whispered question, one hand moving to slowly caress your hair. “Yes ma’am,” He whispers back, hands moving to scoop you up from under your thighs, you’re unsteady for a moment, but then it’s like nothing’s changed as you wrap your arms around his neck, legs around his waist as he carries you towards the bathroom.

“Let’s get you clean, pretty girl.” He murmurs as you pass the threshold of the bathroom, voice filled with tenderness, careful to keep his volume down for the sake of your sleeping toddler down the hall.

His movements are slow and steady as he sets you on your feet, knowing how unbalanced you can be when you’re this pregnant. He runs a soft hand over your bump as he looks you in your eyes, the lighting in the bathroom a little more fluorescent and it makes you wanna close your eyes. “You needa sit down while I get everythin’ ready?”

You nod softly but he didn’t need to wait for an answer because he’s already lowering you gently onto the closed toilet seat lid, then he gives you a quick peck on your lips before turning towards the shower. He starts to pick out all your favourite products, knowing you haven’t had time for a proper shower since the last time he did it for you, which come to think of it was only last week.

He’s speedy on his feet, knowing you’re probably not the most comfortable where you’re currently sitting, he puts up your favourite hair products and body wash, before turning back to you with a proud smile.

“All set, mama.”

“Can y’ undress me?” You mumble, pawing at your eye as you stand on wobbly feet, the hem of the shirt falling at your mid thighs, leaving a little peek of your cotton panties on display.

His eyes warm with affection as he nods, carefully lifting the t-shirt up and over your head, revealing your full heavy breasts and swollen belly. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your panties, slowly peeling them down your legs as you lift each foot for him.

You’re a little insecure, naturally, but you’re far too tired to attempt to cover yourself up like normal, and you remind yourself that it’s JJ, and you never need to hide from him. The steam begins to fog up the bathroom a little as you stand there naked, arms by your side as you watch him, eyes soft.

He takes a moment to drink in the sight of his pregnant wife, his eyes roaming over your swollen belly and the fullness of your breasts. He strips himself off fast, and it’s equally humorous and sexy at how eager he is. Then he bends down with a soft sigh, forearms resting under your thighs as he picks you up like you weigh nothing, cradling you in his arms as he walks towards the shower.

“‘M I too heavy?” You mumble softly, lips pressed to his shoulder, arms thrown around his neck, naked body pressed against his own bare one as he carries you towards the shower.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he steps into the warm spray of the shower, voice echoing a little: “Never, mama. You're perfect just the way you are." He sets you down gently on the built-in bench, making sure you're stable before stepping back to wet his own hair.

You place your hands in your lap with a soft smile, feeling the warm air hit you as you sit on the bench, watching with love sick eyes as he stands under the spray, muscular, tall body in display, looking like some kind of greek God.

Noticing your adoring gaze, JJ gives you a playful wink, running his hands through his damp hair. "Like what you see, gorgeous?" he teases with a smirk, moving closer under the guise of washing off, but really just stealing glances at your voluptuous form.

You giggle all flustered, like it’s your first time seeing him naked, like he hasn’t been your husband for nearly three years and your boyfriend even longer.

His smirk widens as he sees your flustered reaction, making him feel like the most desired man in the world. He steps closer, crouching down in front of you so he's eye level with you sitting on the bench. "Still think I'm handsome?"

“The most.” You smile, breasts sitting heavy on your chest, droplets of milk beading at your nipples as you smile at him, cheeks blushed.

Hes immediately scooping you back up onto your feet, arm draped around your waist as he brings you under the warm stream with him, keeping an arm on you at all times to keep you steady.

His eyes immediately drop to your chest, noticing the milk beads forming at your nipples. His heart skips a beat as he reaches out, gently brushing his thumb over one of the beads, watching it break and roll down your areola. "Mama's got milk for me too, huh?"

You roll your eyes playfully at him, knowing the reason you’re so full of milk is because Quinn hasn’t nursed for a good few hours. “Don’t think it’s for you, J.”

He chuckles mischievously, leaning in closer and nuzzling his face between your breasts, inhaling your warm, lavendar-scented skin. "What if I asked nicely, though?" He looks up at you with puppy eyes, pretending to pout.

“Maybe if you said ‘pretty please’’.” You play along, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

As soon as your lips touch his, he loses all pretense, wrapping his arms around your back and deepening the kiss. He pulls you into his lap, sitting on the bench with you cradled against his chest as he continues to kiss you.

“N- I’m too heavy..” You mumble against his lips, trying to shuffle off of him in fear of crushing him, it’s a stupid idea, anyway, you’ve always been physically smaller than him, and he’s 220 pounds of muscle.

He halts your attempt to get up, firm hands grasping your hips as he holds you in place, meeting your gaze with amused determination. Ouch, baby. You underestimate me, damn.” He mumbles, one hand flying to his chest in mock offence.

“I bench more than you weigh." With a playful grin, he squeezes your thighs affectionately. Your heart flutters at his words, throat going a little dry. Something else seems to flutter too, between your legs, and JJ must feel it from your position on his lap.

His pupils dilate as he feels the flutter between your legs, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He spreads his legs wider, pulling you flush against him so you can feel his growing hardness pressing against your core.

Your chubby pussy lips spread around his hardness, head falling back a little, but you’re still protesting softly, the warm spray covering you both. “Jay- m’ serious- m’ too heavy.”

Smiling against your neck with knowing, tender amusement, he runs one hand up your back while the other supports your weight, pulling you even closer. "Stop trying to stop me, pretty girl. You know I love this body of yours - every inch of it."

Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling of his lips against that spot that makes you melt, a soft whine leaving your lips. “Tell me you know.” He whisper against the skin, tongue darting out to lick against the side of your throat.

You hesitate for a second, arms around his neck tightening a little. “I.. I know, JJ. I know.” You rush out all in one breath, pebbled nipples brushing against his muscular chest.

One of his hands move to palm at one of your heavy breasts, lips not stopping their gentle worship of the soft skin of your neck as he speaks, breath hot against the sensitive skin. “Yeah? And don’t you ever forget it, mama. Can’t have my girl walkin’ round this house thinkin’ she’s anythin’ less than perfect, yeah? My beautiful girl.”

#꒰ jj maybank ꒱ྀི #꒰ pregnant!reader ꒱ྀི #jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj obx #jj maybank blurb #outer banks #jj x reader #jj maybank headcanon #jj maybank obx #obx #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank fluff

471 notes · View notes

putiflowy · 2 months ago

Text

⁎❈ Seong Gi-Hun (nsfw) alphabet ❈⁎

A... (Aftercare)

Gi-Hun is very caring and loving after sex. He doesn't mind that you are covered in sweat or need cleaning. He takes his time to relax after an intense session of sex with kisses, hugs and a lot affectionate words. He cares a lot about his performance, so he will ask things like "did you like it?" or "is there anything I can do to make it better next time?". Gi-Hun will listen carefully to what you have to say and will apply it next time you have sex with him.

B... (What is his favorite body part?)

If Gi-Hun had to chose one body part of yours it would probably be your ass. Whenever he gets the chance he will slap it or give it a firm squeeze. He loves to watch how your butt wiggles as you walk upstairs.

C... (Cum)

Gi-Hun loves to receive blowjobs and his favourite part about it is when your mouth is full of his cum. He enjoys seeing it drip from your lips or when you swallow it.

D... (Dirty secrets)

Despite its innocent appearance, Gi-Hun is a bit of a pervert and can't stop thinking about sex. Seeing you in his pajamas or with tight-fitting clothing is enough to drive him crazy. He will often ask you to have sex in public spaces and since you are a little freak too, you easily join him. There has been times where you have been caught, but that doesn't stop you from anything.

E... (Is he experienced?)

Seong Gi-Hun as the 50 year old man he is, he has had some previous experience. After all, he was a party animal in his teens. Then, he got married but it didn't end up very well. Since the Squid Games, he hasn't been very active sexually speaking... until he found you.

F... (His favourite sex position?)

Gi-Hun enjoys almost every sexual position. He likes to vary not only the positions, but also the locations. He enjoys a good missionary as he gets to see you face while he slams his cock inside you. Though, sometimes he will prefer for you to be on top, riding his cock.

G... (How good is he?)

Gi-Hun cares so much about your pleasure he will dedicate a lot of time just for you to be extremly aroused. So, yeah, he is pretty good.

H... (Hair)

Gi-Hun isn't a particularly hairy man. He has some black hair in his pubic area and other parts.

I... (Intimacy)

Gi-hun loves to moan your name out loud and hold your hand while you're giving him a blowjob. He is the type of guy who gives passionate kisses as he penetrates you.

J... (Jacking off)

Gi-Hun often watches amateur porn to learn new things to try with you. He also loves to jack off to the nudes you send him. There was one time you caught him masturbating to one of your sexy videos. To make the fantasy real, you decided to recreate it and give him a live version of the video.

K... (Any kinks)

Gi-Hun has a huge ass colection of sex toys, for both of you. His online shopping cart is always full of different toys (dildos, vibrators, butt plugs, penis rings...). When you receive a new package from the postman you always ask him "what's this?" to which Gi-Hun always answers "I think you might like it... wanna try?".

L... (Locations)

From time to time, Gi-hun loves to have sex in public spaces. If you go shopping with him, in no time you'll be getting undressed in the fitting room. He also loves to fuck you in bathrooms and in his car. Despite loving to fuck in semi-public spaces, this isn't always possible. Gi-Hun also likes to have sex in the bedroom, the kitchen or in the shower.

M... (Motivation)

It's very easy to get him turned on. He doesn't need any ostentatious lingerie. His old pajamas are enough to make him horny. He also loves it when you take the initiative.

N... (NO)

Gi-Hun is not the type of guy who is into choking, bondage or any sort of thing that could hurt you. To show you how vanilla he is, the most BDSM thing he enjoys is slapping your butt (softly). If he does hurt you while doing so, the aftercare will involve massages, food, reassuring words and other sorts of princess treatments.

O... (Oral)

Gi-Hun loves to eat you out. He is the kind of guy that will take his time until you cum for him.

P... (What pace does he go at?)

The pace depends on what you want. If you want him to go faster, he will keep up the pace until his legs start shaking. If you want him to go slowly, he will do it in the most romantic way you've ever seen. When you don't tell him anything he will try to read your needs and adapt the pace.

Q... (Opinions on quickies?)

He likes them. Mostly when you are fucking in a fitting room or in another semi-public space. However, when you are in his place, he takes his time to satisfy you.

R... (Does he take risks?)

Gi-Hun likes the risk of fucking in a semi-public space. Once, he tried to go wilder and have sex in the park... but you got caught. He remembers that day with a lot of shame. Now he tries to be more careful and find and empty parking spot or a fitting room that has enough privacy.

S... (Stamina)

He can last a lot of time in bed as long as he is playing with you. Once he cums, he needs some time to recover.

T... (Is he into toys?)

Yes! He uses them all of the time.

U... (Is he unfair?)

He loves teasing you. He will caress all the places around your parts just to get you even hornier. He does the same with the toys and you have to beg for him to use them.

V... (Volume)

Gi-Hun is a very LOUD man. When you are all alone he won't have any control over himself. You don't mind this as his yelps of pleasure are one of the sexiest things you have ever heard.

W... (Wild card)

Gi-Hun loves to tease you by sending nudes. He has learnt a lot of sexy ways to take photos from Pinterest. He puts special care with the lightning, what he's wearing, the filters and most importantly, the angles.

X... (X-ray)

His dick is quite average, but enough to give you pleasure.

Y... (Yearning)

Since he met you, his sex drive has been wild. He masturbates a lot thinking about you. He understands that you might not be in the mood everyday and enjoys a good cuddling session just as much as sex.

Z... (Zzz...)

It takes no time for this man to fall asleep on your chest after he is done.

I'm writing one with In-Ho... stay tuned!

#seong gi hun x reader #squid game #squid game fanfic #seong gi hun #squid game smut #squid game x y/n #squid game season 2 #squid game s2 #squid game netflix #gi hun #squid game gi hun #gi hun squid game #gi hun x reader #player 456 #gi hun alphabet

618 notes · View notes

myownwholewildworld · 2 months ago

Text

Love is heartbreak

↪ a the age of adaline inspired fic

pairing: marcus acacius x ageless!f!reader. summary: kissed by the goddess juno on your day of reckoning, you are brought back to life, condemned to wander the earth for a century. until you meet the other half of your soul who offers you the life you yearn for. but will you be strong enough to accept such promise? author's note: yes, i've cheated on my other wips, I'M SORRY. but when the angst and romance call, i can only answer - i am only human afterall. hope you like this little story that was supposed to be a drabble but ended up being this long, oops! comments and reblogs appreciated. enjoy! x warnings: 18+, mdni. soulmates trope. angst, romance, smut. mild breeding kink (soz). infidelity. mention of SA (not by Marcus) and death. dual pov. reader is female and a blank slate. reader is close to 150 years old (stopped ageing in her twenties) and Marcus is in his fifties. not beta'd and very lightly proofread, apologies if you spot any mistakes lol wordcount: ~8.4k. divider by @\saradika-graphics

“I’ll do anything to stay by your side, amica mea (my beloved). I don’t care about what the future holds if it’s not with you,” Marcus’ broad hands held yours, his thumb drawing invisible circles on the back of your hands.

You hated this — how your heart twisted inside you, torn apart by the choice you had to make. Was this never-ending life not enough punishment? No, you also had to go through heartbreak — your own and Marcus’. For love, you had to.

With eyes averted, you looked down at your worn sandals. Tears teetering on the edge of your waterlines as your vision became blurry with sadness, regrets and fears washed over you like the Tiber kissing the shore goodbye.

In your hundred years wandering the ground beneath your feet, you never had to go through this. Always so careful not to feel, not to grow close to anyone, not to really live the life you wanted, and now you were in a position where it almost felt too real.

Within reach — you only had to extend your hands and hug him in a tight, soothing embrace. Only needed to accept the life that Marcus was offering. Though as much as you wanted to—you wanted it, him, so badly—you could never.

And what was worst, you couldn’t explain why. First you would see the horror in his eyes, that frightened look glittering, then incomprehension, and finally disgust. Your heart couldn’t take it.

“But I do care, Marcus. Yours is bright, your military career is about to take off. I would only hinder you, your dreams. I am no one, and—” you tried to reason with him.

But love was blind. Love was deaf. Love didn’t care about impossibilities, because love was defiant.

At least his was.

“Do you think I care about being disowned? Do you truly believe that I would choose such dreadful life over you? Over a wonderful life with the person I love most?” Marcus squeezed your hands before one of his found your chin, tilting up your face to him. “Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori (love conquers all, let us too yield to love).”

You shook your head in denial, his words ringing in your ears like chants of war. Because Marcus waged war in all aspects of life, even in love — he’d conquered your heart so fully, you’d never asked him to return it. It would forever be his to cherish, to cry over, to destroy, to hate.

Because he would need to hate you to overcome the heartbreak you were about to cause.

“You don’t have a choice here. You are to marry the lady your family has arranged for; her family’s prestige will do you good. You’re just infatuated, Marcus, it isn’t true love,” you forced yourself to let a soft laugh out, wiping your tears as you took a step back. “At least, for me, it isn’t.”

Marcus’ expression folded and your heart with him. You hated yourself for saying such a vile lie, but a necessary one. The passage of time would not affect you, always stagnant in your early twenties after a fateful day when Juno decided to save your life from certain death. The Goddess of love and marriage was also one known for Her eternal youthfulness — one She would only share with those who had been wronged. And you had been so wronged in your mortal life.

And here you were, so close to committing the same mistake all over again. But you knew better this time — not because you didn’t trust Marcus, but because Fate was capricious. It didn’t matter if Juno was watching over you.

“You don’t mean that. I know you don’t. This is true love, lux mihi (my light), one that would live through eternity,” Marcus muttered breathlessly, reaching for you again, looking for that unbreakable connection you both strongly shared.

“Eternity? Don’t speak of things you don’t understand, Marcus,” you retorted, forcing your tone to sound mocking.

Another step back with an unmovable expression and you saw realisation dawning on him. Slowly like a river widening its meanders, steady like the constant flow of water. Relentless you were, steadfast in your resolution.

“Ave atque vale (hail and farewell), Acacius,” were your last words to him.

35 years later...

“Father, may I marry her?”

Marcus gazed down the dining table, eyeing his son with consideration. He knew what it felt like, how true love messed up your head to the point of madness. He had felt that way only once in his life, and it wasn’t for the woman sitting beside him.

As cruel as it sounded, Marcus never loved his wife, because his heart belonged to someone else — the now hazy memory of a woman who always lingered on the edges of his mind. A cruel reminder of how feeble and fleeting love was, how love turned into heartbreak with just a few words.

“At least, for me, it isn’t.”

That sentence alone had broken him, his ability to feel some sort of romantic connection died that very same day. At night it would haunt him, filling his dreams with nightmares. The same scene playing over and over in his mind, his heart cracking even more every time those words would hit him.

He’d waited for weeks, months. A year it took him to realise you truly were not coming back, that you meant it. He’d only been a plaything for you, a toy you discarded once things got too real. And at that point he surrendered to the pressure his family put on him. Marcus had followed through with the arranged marriage in the end, despite the agony and the empty hole in his chest.

And now his son was following in his footsteps. His heir looked so much like him, like a reflection of the past staring back at him. It pained him — he saw himself in Magnus, almost as if the roles had reversed and he was his own father thirty-five years ago. Pleading, asking to marry the love of his life even though his hand had already been promised in holy matrimony to another.

His wife, Prisca, waved one of her hands with disdain, the spoon clattering on the porcelain plate.

“Nonsense, Magnus,” she tutted at their son. “We’ve already been through this. You will marry Verina. You’d put us in a very compromised position with Gellius if you don’t.”

“But—”

“Quit your whining and man up, my son. Gellius is the Emperor’s best counsellor. It will bring our family great reputation,” Prisca reasoned, tone poisoned with greed. “And riches.”

“Father?” Magnus’ eyes shot to his, pleading him to intervene.

Marcus sensed Prisca stiffening besides him, gripping the arms of the chair like a vice. He didn’t look in her direction but knew how her orbs distilled venom. She would never understand what their son was talking about, but he did. Too damn right.

“I would like to meet her before giving you my blessing,” he spoke calmly, lacing his hands together on top of the wooden table.

Magnus’ eyes sparked up, a hopeful smile curling his mouth.

“Of course, of course! She’s waiting right outside,” and then his son hurried out of the room.

Prisca stood up, the screeching noise of the chair’s legs irritating Marcus.

“Like father, like son,” she muttered maliciously before disappearing too.

In this moment of silent respite, Marcus pinched the bridge of his hooked nose. The patience he had to muster was titanic. His life had been nothing but heartache and war, his son being the only reason he stood by his wife’s side in public. He’d tired of the pantomime, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

He would meet the woman who had stolen Magnus’ heart, just to make sure there was no deception from her part. Marcus wouldn’t wish for his son to go through the same heartbreak as him. If everything was at it should, then he wouldn’t oppose.

“Father,” Magnus called, and Marcus removed the hand from his exhausted, battle-scarred face.

His heart literally stopped.

A warm smile softened your expression when Magnus asked you to join his family in the dining hall. You had been sitting patiently in a small waiting room, wondering if this was right.

The first time you had laid eyes on Magnus a week ago, your heart jolted, and your mind went blank. He reminded you so much of your one and only true love, the one you ditched thirty-five years ago because you were too afraid to embrace the beautiful life he had offered you. The one you still felt in your heart, dormant yet very present in your everyday life.

Perhaps it was wrong of you to encourage this situation, whatever this was. When Magnus had asked you that morning to join his family for supper, he had caught you off guard, so you found yourself agreeing to it.

Deep down you knew why you hadn’t disappeared yet: you wanted to live this moment one more time. Wanted to remember how it felt to be loved so fiercely by Marcus, a yearning you’d been craving for over three decades. Only this man wasn’t Marcus, only someone who was his spitting image.

One dinner, a few hours more of playing pretend, and then you’d vanish again. Leave Rome behind after such brief visit before someone recognised you. You couldn’t afford to give any explanations, so you’d only visit this place once every decade.

You walked behind Magnus, head slightly bowed and hands laced in front of you. Magnus’ broad body blocked your vision, but soon enough he stepped aside to introduce you.

You curtsied, eyes averted, fixed on the marble slabs.

Before you straightened your back and introduced yourself, the man across the room spoke your name — your real birthname.

Inevitably, your heart sank to your belly with panic and your eyes quickly drifted up to meet the darkened ones you once had allowed yourself to swim in.

Marcus. Your Marcus.

Your heart raced in your chest and filled with pure joy. You couldn’t stop the smile that had started curling your lips nor the glassiness of your eyes.

Your one and true love was staring back at you with widened, tired eyes. He had gotten up off his chair and was striding towards you before he suddenly halted a couple of meters away from you with confusion painting his handsome features. Ones that had not remained impassible to the passage of time and war, but ones that you daydreamed about every single day without fail.

So within reach — you would only need to close the distance between you two and hug him, hug him till dawn and never let go. Oh, how much you missed him, how much you still loved him. With your whole heart, the one that ached and wept with regret in your chest right now.

Would he love you back? Did you break the love you shared past the point of mending?

“What? Her name is Aurora, father,” Magnus chuckled nervously, his eyes dancing between the two of you, puzzled. “This is the woman who has stolen my heart. I would like to marry the love of my life with your blessing.”

Your eyes flew from Marcus to Magnus at the revelation, bewildered. Marriage? Was this what it was all about, the purpose of his invitation to meet his family? Marcus’ son wanted to marry you?

You had not seen that coming, as it wasn’t your intention at all. You had only wanted to live this fleeting fantasy of yours for a few days, but there wasn’t love. Not like the one you felt for Marcus, that could never compare.

“Your name is Aurora?” Marcus’ question forced you to look in his direction, your heart twisting maddingly inside you. You nodded with hesitation, “I thought you were…” Marcus pronounced your real name again, the sinking pit of your stomach churning.

“That was my mother,” you quickly came up with a lie. You could never tell him the truth.

“Your mother,” he repeated slowly, shock and pain transforming his beautiful face. “I knew your mother.”

“What? Really?” Magnus intervened with a laugh, palming his father’s shoulder. “That’s such a coincidence!”

You looked at both of them, but your eyes inevitably lingered on Marcus’ darkened ones. Would he believe your lie? Again?

“The resemblance with her is… uncanny. You look so much like her, Aurora,” Marcus rasped, taking a step back and steeling his posture with determination.

He didn’t need to speak for you knew his hurt. Because the same memories that were flooding his mind, had been drowning you for decades.

The atmosphere felt heavy with unspoken truths, your face burning — you loathed yourself for the pain you had caused him. Pain that still contorted his expression every time his eyes flicked to yours.

Would he ever forgive you? Would he know that you lied so many years ago? That you truly and irremediably loved him? That you would always do?

You bowed down your head, mainly to conceal the unspent tears brimming on your waterlines.

“So I have been told, General,” you muttered softly as Magnus’ hand rested easily on the small of your back, his lips brushing your temple gently.

“I know this may seem sudden, father, but I know that Aurora is the one,” Magnus confessed shyly, pulling your body towards him in a warm half-embrace.

Never in your life had you wished yourself to disappear so badly. Marcus’ sight burnt through you and you couldn’t help but reciprocate him. The sadness—no, the heartbreak—in them was like a dagger through your heart, and you wondered if the decision you made so many years ago had been the right one.

By the looks of it, he had done well for himself, just as you had imagined he would. The villa was beautiful, sumptuous even. It spoke of his status in the Empire, how highly rewarded he had been for his enterprise. You assumed that Marcus had married eventually after you left, and you only hoped he’d married for love.

“I see,” Marcus murmured in reply to his son, walking back to his chair. “Let’s eat first. Prisca, my wife, won’t be joining us. She had to excuse herself because she wasn’t feeling well. Please forgive her absence.”

Prisca. So he hadn’t married for love, his family had won and forced him into an arranged marriage after all. Your heart cried for him, for the injustice you had showered upon him with your departure. Perhaps he ended up loving her so his life wouldn’t be as miserable.

That last thought stung, the dagger further twisting in your heart. You wanted his happiness, but selfishly you hoped Marcus still loved you. Undeserving of such love you were, that was clear to you, but you still hoped anyway.

“Of course, Dominus,” you hushed as Magnus guided you to an empty chair.

The food served was delicious, but the silence looming over the table tinged the atmosphere uncomfortable. Magnus did a remarkable effort to keep the conversation going, but Marcus’ succinct replies didn’t leave much room for chatter. And when Magnus pushed again about the marriage proposal—to you dismay—Marcus said that it could discussed tomorrow over breakfast.

Even though the man in front of you had aged, you still saw him as he was thirty-five years ago. He had a scar on his upper cheek and across the bridge of his aquiline nose, crows feet kissing the corners of his brown eyes, his thick curls were greying, and his demeanour was more stoic, but he was still your Marcus.

The only difference though was his lack of… life. His eyes didn’t sparkle anymore, they were tinted with darkness and sorrow. Had war changed him? Had you changed him?

Your throat collapsed on itself, tightening to the point of suffocation. Just in time, you reined in the tears as the last maid removed the plate in front of you.

“I should be going,” you announced, pushing back the chair to stand up.

Marcus sprung to his feet before his son did. And when he realised his promptness, he cleared his throat but didn’t speak.

“It’s late,” Magnus said, standing up to be by your side, throwing a confused glance to his father. “Could she stay the night, father, please?”

Marcus nodded.

“I will ask one of the servants to prepare one of the empty chambers,” Marcus conceded, walking around the table to meet his son.

“Oh,” Magnus sighed, and you knew he’d hoped to share a bed with you tonight.

Your face burnt once more with shame when Marcus’ eyes looked for yours. However, you didn’t meet his gaze, scared of what you would find in it.

“Thank you, General, you are most generous,” you husked in a low voice.

“I will show you around the villa in the meantime, amica mea,” Magnus said, his hand quick to rest on the back of your waist.

You subtly flinched at his endearment. That was what his father always called you. It felt wrong when he said it now, completely out of place — it didn’t at first, when you looked at him and imagined he was Marcus instead. But with the love of your life standing firm in front of you, it sounded so vile.

This fantasy of yours was a dangerous game, one you didn’t want to play. Not if it meant hurting Marcus again, because you could see the way he studied you. How his pupils dilated with anger every time his son would seek your touch. It was killing him, and you in the process. When everyone went to sleep, you would leave in the middle of the night, as the shadow you were condemned to be.

Magnus urged you to turn around and walk beside him, when you heard Marcus gasp.

“Your birthmark,” his words stopped you right in your tracks.

When Juno touched you to bring you back to life over a century ago, Her caress left a mark on the back of your left shoulder. The shape resembled that of a peacock, the loyal animal known to accompany the Goddess.

“What about it?” Magnus intervened, confused by the interruption.

Slowly you looked over your shoulder to glance at Marcus. His eyes were a window to his restless, half soul, desperate and blown — he knew. He searched your face for a crack, a way in, but your expression didn’t tumble.

You wished you could veer around and throw yourself in his arms, kiss him and apologise, ask him to take you back. But you just couldn’t. Love was heartbreak, and it would have to remain that way if you didn’t want to hurt Marcus even more than what you already had.

“Nothing,” he grumbled, jaw tight with a tic on the muscle.

Marcus stirred in bed, unable to get any sleep.

Your face haunted him brighter than ever — every time his eyes shut, your sorry expression would gnaw at the confines of his mind. Seeing you right in front of him after so many years, all curled up to his son’s side, drove him mad.

At first, he thought himself crazy. You looked exactly as you did thirty-five years ago — not even a wrinkle kissed your skin, not a greying hair anywhere to be seen in your plaited hair. So when you explained you were the daughter of the woman who broke his heart, he had believed you.

That was until he saw the birthmark on your shoulder. The unmistakable shape he had joked about in the past, telling you that you had been kissed by Juno Herself at birth. It was impossible that you had inherited such a peculiar mark.

But it was even more impossible that you had remained as youthful as you were, as if not a single day had passed. How was that even possible? Some people were gifted with slow ageing, he had seen some, but to remain exactly the same? No, there was something else lurking, an explanation he could not grasp because it was too surreal, too unfathomable for a mortal.

Marcus needed answers. His mind was a tangled mess, this new discovery shining a different light on the conversation that destroyed him over three decades ago. Did your words have a meaning he had not been able to see before?

“Eternity? Don’t speak of things you don’t understand, Marcus.”

What had you truly meant by that? Did you understand what eternity really was in a level he couldn’t even start to comprehend?

Heart pounding, he quietly removed the covers and sat on the bed. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that Prisca was sound asleep. Not that she would miss him anyway.

In darkness, Marcus palmed around until he found his toga and quickly changed to then walk out of his bedchamber with a clear destination in mind.

He trudged along the cold corridors of his villa until he found the door to the room you were sleeping in. For a second, he doubted, thinking he was crazy for the implausible reason taking form in his mind. But if it wasn’t that—that you were, somehow, ageless—he still needed to know why. Why hadn’t you aged? Why leave him? Why not tell him the truth?

As his shaky hand lifted and curled to knock on the wooden plank, the door swung open.

You appeared under the doorframe with a wild expression and widened eyes, obviously in a hurry to leave. Again.

“Marcus,” you gasped, one hand flying to your chest in surprise as your beautiful eyes met his.

He froze in place, all the words he had planned to say stuck to the back of his throat, forming a lump that would not let him speak. Your beauty was dazzling, but it was the buried love he harboured for you what stopped him from talking as it resurfaced.

His memory of you had not faded, able to remember every single feature of your face regardless the passage of time. Everything about you was engraved in his mind, but he had almost forgotten how sweet you smelt. Roses, with an earthy hint of grass.

As your scent numbed his mind, Marcus finally found his dry tongue.

“Don’t leave, please. Don’t leave again,” he begged in a hoarse whisper, his eyes diving in yours.

You looked up at him and he felt himself under a spell. The same one you had him under years ago, when the heart was shattered and the mind bleak. Because even when you waved him goodbye, he still loved you. Never stopped, was never able to hate you for what you did, what you said.

“Can we talk?” he pushed before realising your eyes were glassy with sadness. “I know your name is not Aurora. I know it’s you.”

Your bottom lip trembled as a single tear fell from the cliff of your lashes. Moved by his own ghost of the past, Marcus reached for your cheek with his palm, the thumb brushing away the tears that followed the first one.

You let go of a deep sigh, kissed the palm of his hand and nodded. His heart was beating so loud, so fast, he almost missed your words.

“I owe you an explanation, Marcus,” you finally spoke, a broken sob almost tearing his resolution.

As you stepped aside, Marcus came into the room you were so eager to leave behind. Your heartbeat had spiked the moment you saw him and hadn’t slowed down since then. Perhaps you didn’t die of heartbreak but could die of a heart attack.

For decades you had been running until you found him. Until Marcus made you believe you could have everything he promised. It had been the first time you had actually considered growing roots. But the thought of not being able to grow old, to see the love of your life wither away while you remained sane, was paralysing. You had panicked — too scared to accept the love of a man who would give up everything for you, too frightened to trust someone again.

But was Marcus not worthy of your trust? He demonstrated repeatedly how he would always protect you, always cherish you. Not only with words, but with actions too. He had been so considerate, so loving, for a moment in the past you thought it a ruse. How could someone be so damn perfect and still be real?

Your heart clenched in pain, seeing him latch the door behind him and turn around to face you. The look of confusion, of sorrow, ate at your conscience. Under the candlelight, his torn features stuck out, time unforgiving. He was still gorgeous, would always be in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing that slipped out before the quivering of your bottom lip let out a sob. “I’m so sorry, Marcus. I didn’t know Magnus was your son, otherwise I would have never—” you shook your head, taming your cries. “I should have known. He looks so much like you. When I first saw him, I thought it was you. That somehow you had been able to still time and be with me.”

You sobbed a pitiful laugh, unable to look him in the eye. It was shameful having to admit something like this — that you had chased after a boy because he reminded you of someone you loved. But despite your immortality, you were still capable of human mistakes.

“So you didn’t know he was my son?” Marcus asked quietly. You could see the inner workings of his mind ruminating as you shook your head no. “Do you love him? Were you really going to marry him?”

The questions caught you off guard. Although at some point you were expecting them, you didn’t think it would be this early in conversation. It might be for the better if it got out of the way as soon as possible, so you could explain yourself.

The first cut would be the deepest, although the rest would still hurt.

“I love the idea of him,” you emphasized, ashamed of yourself for giving in to such fantasy. “I thought I could love him the way I did you, that he could be a vessel of my love for you. That I could, for a few days, remember how it felt— how you felt. That I could have you one more time,” you paused and sighed, intertwining your hands together to twist them nervously. “I only met him a week ago, marriage did not cross my mind at all. I was going to leave once—”

“Once it got too serious,” he finished for you.

Marcus went quiet again, his eyes transfixed on you. You wished Juno blessed you with the ability to read minds, to know what he was thinking right this moment. Did he hate you for what you just revealed? Did he think you were sick for trying to live out a fleeting dream? Would he forgive you for such despicable behaviour?

“Do you still love me?” his gravelly voice was so low, for a moment you thought you had imagined it.

But the doubt, the fresh hurt in his wounded gaze, told you otherwise.

You gaped for air, your lungs strained with sorrow. You should fib, stand by your initial lie, tell him you didn’t. But what had that gotten you the first time around except for a life of misery and loneliness? What had that gotten him?

“I do. I do love you, Marcus,” you whispered, out of breath due to the pounding of your heart. “Couldn’t be any other way. You’re the other half of my soul that I’ve been missing for so long.”

Time stilled as you looked Marcus dead in the eyes. You were not expecting anything out of your raw confession, because the time for those had passed. It was what you should have said thirty-five years ago, not now. You were too late to mend the love that had slipped through the cracks of time.

“Then that’s all that matters,” he finally broke the silence, his voice laced with emotion.

The admission shook you. Could this be true, really happening? Did he still love you after all this time?

In a couple of strides, you found yourself in his arms, the way it should have been ages ago. His forearms wrapped around you like a warm blanket as his head bowed down to taste your lips.

You kissed him back, first sweetly, then fiercely. You kissed him with all the unexpressed love you held in your heart, with the passion your true love deserved. His tongue was as sweet as you remembered, as soothing as your memory recalled. A dance ensued, his tongue reading a love letter to yours.

Your hands, which had been resting on his chest, drifted up to cradle his face — his moustache and stubble pickling the skin of your palms. Marcus untied his mouth from yours to kiss your tears goodbye, then pressed a peck on your forehead. His heart was beating as loud as yours, in unison like true soulmates.

“I’ve missed you. I never stopped thinking about you, lux mihi,” he confessed under his breath. “Life was never the same after you left.”

His admission made your heart flutter even further, and you couldn’t help but let your hands roam his back. Your fingers played with the knot holding the toga in place, his seeping warmth beckoning.

“I need you, Marcus. Make love to me,” you pleaded, leaving a love trail of kisses on his neck.

Marcus’ chest rumbled at your plea, his lips hunting down yours in a heartbeat. His hands were quick with your clothing, worshipping the curves of your body as it was revealed to him. You did the same with his toga, until you were both bare, standing in front of each other.

You saw his eyes lingering on every nook and cranny of your skin before they found yours. A thunder of connection ran through you, of yearning. On your tiptoes, you kissed him again, pressing your breasts onto his chest while your fingertips traced the map of his back.

You didn’t expect all the bumps and grooves you found on his skin; battle scars dotted around everywhere. Some thick and protuberant, some thin and soft. Marcus keened at your touch, silently letting you know that some of them were too sensitive to be caressed.

How much hurt his body and heart had endured, a life dedicated to war and duty. Your heart cried for him, for not being able to be by his side when he needed you most. Had you taken up his offer, had he run away from responsibility with you, his skin would tell a different story.

But the past couldn’t be changed, only the present was malleable enough to shape a new future.

Slowly he pushed you towards the bed, his hands resting on either side of your waist while his thumb drew lazy circles on your bristled skin. Raking your fingers through his silver curls, you leaned back on the mattress, his warm body blanketing yours.

His hands found the apex of your breasts, soft fingers rubbing your taut nipples as your head tilted back. Marcus licked the salt of your exposed neck, finding your pulse point. He kissed the spot and lingered, your vein pulsing against his lips as one of his hands discovered the slick your thighs harboured for him.

The feathery caress of his ring finger outlining your seam turned you into a whimpering mess. His pad stroked your nub, a slight flick followed before it slid down your slit and found your weeping hole. He circled it a few times, taunting you effortlessly, before returning to your clit.

You heaved, lips pursed so your moans would stay contained. In the dead of the night, you worried this show of love would seep through the walls. But not even the thought of his marriage, the thought of Magnus lying in bed a few rooms over, could stop you from joining your bodies together the way the Gods intended.

Marcus’ mouth travelled down the column of your neck, kissing the center of your clavicle before he went further down. Your unattended nipple was soon enough smothered by the wetness between his lips, and you fisted his hair in response, gently tugging at it.

“Marcus,” you moaned, eyes shut. Rejoiced.

One nipple drowned in his spit, the other pinched between his fingers, and his ring finger pressing tight circles on your thudding clit had you fighting to remain silent. But the moment the hand between your hands moved down and his digit teased your walls apart as it sank in your slick warmth, you couldn’t stop the muffled yet loud moan.

“Sing for me, meum corculum (my little heart),” Marcus husked. The gentle pumping of his finger in your wet heat had you quietly howling a few seconds later. “That’s it.”

Your felt your walls contract, pulse around his finger, holding onto him for dear life. Feeling your need as his own, Marcus dunked his middle finger in your pussy too, stretching you while his thumb stroked your clit. The combination of it all made you clench around him, almost begging for release.

“Let go for me,” Marcus asked between licks, and you couldn’t resist his prayer.

The coil that had been tightening inside you finally snapped, releasing a wave that coursed through your quaking body like a tumultuous sea. Your back slightly arched as your thighs trembled around his forearm, chest rising with a dire need for oxygen.

Marcus chuckled softly, setting your nipple free as he searched for your mouth again. He devoured you as you came down from your high, his erect cock gently resting on your mound. The weight of it on your sensitive skin felt like it belonged. The anticipation of welcoming him inside you made you gush.

“Let me drink you, kiss you, savour you,” he pressed a kiss on your mouth after each pause.

Your skin flushed; the proposition was somewhat indecent. It was lewd, frowned upon, and you were tethered to the chains of social decency. But there was nothing decent about infidelity, after all.

“Please, mea vita (my life). I can make you reach for the moon and the stars in the ceiling above if you let me, make you touch them,” he promised.

You shyly nodded, and his boyish grin grew wider, his lips tensing. So contagious, you smiled back as he came off you and moved your body until your butt was on the edge of the mattress.

He scooted you over towards him until the back of your knees were resting on his shoulders — leaving you completely exposed to his hungry gaze. His eyes lingered on your leaking dampness, his dilated pupils tracing the outline of your seam. The intensity of it all, the deep connection, made your thighs press together against his neck, wanting to hide your core from him.

You had nothing to be shy of, as Marcus had already seen you bare before. Sex with him had always been ardent, fervent — the heat of passion always got the best of you both, a certain urgency to consummate your love. But now? Now was different. There was no rush in his movements, in how his thumbs pried your pussy lips open, in how his warm lips brushed the sensitive skin on your inner thigh. His calm confidence in taking you as he had promised was new to you, who never had all the time in the world. But right now, you did. For Marcus, you did. Always would.

Your lashes fluttered, kissing the apples of your cheeks the moment the languid strokes of his tongue met your swollen flaps. He kissed one gently, then the other, before the wet muscle lapped from your gushing hole up to your clit. So venerating were his licks, your limbs relaxed at the intimate kiss.

“You taste like ambrosia, lux mihi. The best relish I have ever been graced with,” his hot breath collided with the cold skin on your slit, your body trembling in response.

“Marcus, please,” you begged, although you were not sure why, or what you were asking of him.

He didn’t leave you waiting again. His fingers sank in the flesh of your thighs while his tongue dived inside your slick furrow. So dextrous were his charges, you couldn’t help but mewl like a starved kitten in a back alley asking for leftovers. First, he flicked your excited bundle of nerves, and then he suckled on it, his jaw working you through the climb to another orgasm. The buildup was intense, but it became feverish the moment his finger joined the action — it slid easily inside, curled to caress the precise spongy spot of your arousal.

Unaware of your own actions, one of your hands slithered down your belly until you fisted his curls — pushing him towards the centre of your heat, not away from it. He hadn’t lied — the stars appeared behind your eyes, bright like the future you wished you had with him. A sea of constellations, all imploding at once in an amazing rain of stars that blinded you as you came crashing down from the skies.

You heaved and wailed his name in ecstasy, your entire body quivering with the strength of a thousand suns. Your entrance clenched around his finger as you held your breasts, your thumbs ghosting the taut buttons. You leaked your pleasure on his mouth, and he drank unashamedly, grateful of your offering.

A sweet kiss on your mound before he towered over you, and you could only look at him in awe with raw, true love. When his battered body blanketed yours, you draped your arms around his waist, hands lightly resting on his lower back. The knowing smirk on his lips spoke of a muted “I told you so.”

“I love you,” he whispered instead.

Your heart swooned and healed and cried and exploded. All at once. He hadn’t said those exact words yet, but they were veiled in every sentence, every action he had said or done tonight. Deep inside you were eternally grateful that he hadn’t grown to hate you, that his love for you remained intact despite heartache, circumstances and time.

Unbeknownst to you, tears welled up, ones that Marcus drank too. As he did, your palms stroked his ribs, careful to avoid the scars you had come to learn were too delicate. Eager, one slid off his skin until your fingers wrapped around his throbbing manhood. Eyes down, you saw the pearly bead of pre-cum commending you to butter it on his flushed head. With your thumb you caressed the tip, and Marcus’ lips parted in need — an invitation you quickly accepted, dunking your tongue in his mouth.

A few pumps had him groaning and soon enough you were guiding him to the pocket of heat between your thighs. His cockhead kissed your gushing entrance the same way his lips did — knowing, denuded, possessing. And slowly he made his way in, parting your flesh like a new stream disturbing the earth beneath. The burning sting was most welcomed, blossoming into a fullness you had craved for decades.

“I’m home,” Marcus rasped when he was fully seated in your cunt.

Your throat clamped a little, emotion overtaking your senses the same way his erection did.

“Welcome home, dilectus (beloved),” you muttered with a loving smile and teary eyes.

You melted into a slow kiss as Marcus rocked his hips, rutting into you almost lethargically, wanting the moment to last. You let him set the pace, the drag of his cock in your pussy a delight that had you reaching for the stars again and your inner walls squeezing him tight. The sweet rhythm of his swaying tightened the slick, hot coil that pooled low in your belly, and the moment Marcus gained momentum, you followed.

Needily he started fucking into you with precision, chasing both of your highs. His dick pulsed inside you, your heartbeat instinctually adapting to his in a second. Both so close to the sky above, gasping for air now, you rocked underneath him to amplify such pleasure.

“Marcus,” you whimpered, your hands now cradling his face. You lost yourself in his eyes, blown and loving. “Please, inside,” was everything you murmured.

Even after your petition, the snap of his hips against yours didn’t falter. Instead, the pace increased as his wild orbs studied your blissed out expression.

“Do you mean it?” You nodded effusively. “Do you want your belly round with my child?”

You didn’t even know if it was possible — yes, you looked young but were closer to a hundred and fifty years on this earth than to the day you were born. The fertility of your womb was one you never dared to test in your immortal life, but the thought of having such a memory—someone—to remember him by when the days grew cold and the nights dark was overpowering reality.

“Yes, I do,” you reassured him, pecking his lips softly.

His head fell, his face resting on the crook of your neck, while he made love to you. His moves stuttered, announcing his climax, and your pussy hugged him tight in a natural response. The moment the first ropes hit your cervix, you came undone too. As Marcus filled you with his warm spent, you creamed around his beating girth, your hands holding onto his shoulders as your back arched and your nipples kissed his chest.

It took both of you a few minutes to come down, for the haze of lovemaking to slowly dissolve in the musky air. Marcus hungered for your lips and he hunted them down with eagerness. Your bodies finally untied, his cock leaving you empty yet satisfied.

You hoped—prayed—his seed would take root in your womb. Even if it was impossible, the sliver of a miraculous possibility gave you a resemblance of hope. So you pressed your thighs together, greedy of his gift.

Marcus rolled off you, falling onto his tummy besides you. Quickly you laid on your side, your fingertips tracing the lines of his skin again. A feathery touch to alleviate the harshness of life. He unburied his face from the pillow and turned to look at you.

His smile was instant, and so was yours.

For an hour no words were spoken at all, no sleep was achieved either. You both remained silent, staring at each other, soaking up the love that flooded the chamber.

Replacing your fingers with your lips, you kissed the scars on his back, his shoulders, his arms. And finally his nose and cheek, where you dawdled as if your caress could erase the pain they inflicted.

“What are we going to do, amica mea?” Marcus husked after what felt like an eternity.

Reality set in, leaving a gaping hole in your belly. What could you do? Would you be strong enough to stay by his side for however long the goddess Mors took to claim him? Strong enough to build a life you knew was ephemeral? And once he was gone from this mortal plane, what would be left of you?

The choice was an impossible one. One that you should have made decades ago, when the heart was whole and the mind still strong. Now you knew how arduous life was without him, how—for years—you had looked for him in the small details and every single man who resembled him, how the regret and the grief haunted you at every turn of a decade. Now you knew that life wasn’t worth living if you didn’t have Marcus to share it with.

You traced the profile of his nose with your lips before pressing a soft kiss on his.

“I am not sure, but I am willing to try… if you are,” you whispered, leaning back.

The implications of such life were huge for him. Married, with a son who though himself in love with you, an acclaimed General who served Rome even when Rome didn’t serve him. His responsibilities were greater than yours, Marcus had so much to lose. Had you accepted his proposal when you should have, neither of you would be in such dire situation.

Marcus sighed heavily, rolling onto his side to face you. His calloused hand cradled your cheek, his eyes filled with a determination you wished you had back then, when life was easier.

“There is nothing nor no one that could stop me from spending the rest of my life with you, lux mihi,” he mumbled, hand dropping to your hip. “I said it then, and I will say it again: I do not care for this life if you are not with me. I don’t care about reputation nor retaliation. For over fifty years I have done what was expected of me, and I am done living my life for Rome and her vice. You’re the stars that light up my path in the darkest of nights, the warm sun that guides me home. For however long you’ll have me, I’ll be with you. My heart was always yours, mea vita, since the moment I landed eyes on you. And I don’t want it back, ever, even if you have to leave again.”

The softness of his delivery, the truth his words emanated, brought tears to your eyes. You thought yourself unworthy of his love, his devotion, when you had only caused heartbreak. But this was your second chance, one you were not going to let go.

You moved closer to him as his arm wrapped around you. With your forehead resting on his naked chest, you traced invisible lines on his ribs.

“I won’t leave. That broke me once, can’t handle it a second time. I love you and want to spend the rest of our time together showing you how much I do, making up for lost time. For however long,” you repeated, kissing his chin.

There was a brief pause, and you knew what his next words would be.

“How old are you?” the question you had always avoided, dreaded.

“Close to three times your age,” you confessed, looking up at him through your lashes.

The answer slowly sank in, but instead of horror, incomprehension and disgust, you only found acceptance. As if it was just another fact about you, nothing of major importance.

“You look amazing for being close to one hundred and fifty years of age,” he joked with a grin to lighten the mood. You let out a soft laugh in response. “How? If you want to share.”

The story of how you came to be ageless wasn’t a pleasant one. But your life was full of secrets that had ruined every human link you had to this earth, and you wouldn’t let them spoil the only real connection you had left.

“I… I was promised to a man, one who I thought was worthy of my love. There were things I was blind to at that time, and only time showed them to me. I thought everything was going as expected, he was always so courteous and respectful in public. Until our wedding night, when he…” you paused, the memories too painful even after all this time, “he abused me, and let his friends use me. When they were done, they left me for dead in a ditch.”

Marcus’ arm draped around you tighter, his heart beating so loud you could hear it thumping against his chest. He hugged you close, his warmth calming and reassuring. Marcus was nothing like that man, if your abuser could even be considered a person. You knew he never would be so despicable — you were as sure as the first lights of the sun would wake you up tomorrow.

“It took me hours to finally drift away. And when I did, Juno greeted me. Said the man had wronged me, and that I should have a second chance to understand what marriage and true love actually were about. Then she touched me right here,” you caressed the peacock-shaped birthmark, “and breathed life into me.”

Marcus leaned back a little to inspect your torn features. The heartache he had to endure paled in comparison to yours. How could someone inflict such hurt on another? He couldn’t even fathom such disgusting scenario. That man was the reincarnation of evil, and he wished he suffered the most agonising death.

He had only seen your soul’s purity, your kindness, your benevolence. Anyone who didn’t was blind.

“You did not deserve that ending, amica mea — no one does. He didn’t deserve you,” his heart cried for you, for the weight you had carried for over a century. “You’ve got the purest heart I have ever known. A soul that I will protect until my dying breath.”

“A half soul,” you interrupted him, and Marcus looked at you confused. “Because your other half completes mine.”

His heart jolted, this time because of the sweetness of your confession. That muscle had grown bigger in the last two hours than in his entire lifetime. He sworn himself to stand by your side, come what may. You would never be wronged again, not if he could avoid it.

“We’re leaving tonight,” Marcus declared without skipping a beat.

“What? What about your wife, your son?” your eyes had widened, but his resolution was firm.

“My wife… she’s not been my wife for years. She’s poison. And my son…” he shrugged, conflicted. “He’ll eventually understand, or so I hope. I believe he might already have an inkling that something weird was at play from the moment I said your real name.”

“Marcus, are you sure? You’d be sacrificing so much for me, I wouldn’t want to—”

He didn’t let you finish, his mouth covering yours in a passionate kiss that slowly turned gentle and soothing. Your hands caressing his battle-scarred skin was like a balm; your touch the first and only one to cure all his ailments. Unhurriedly, he sat back up on the bed, dragging you with him.

“Let’s leave now. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, lux mihi,” Marcus purred against your lips.

Fifteen minutes later, you were both clothed and atop of two horses, blending in with the shadows of the night that concealed your departures, in search of a new life. Together.

taglist: @orcasoul @lilac-boo @picketniffler @almostfoxglove @gothcsz @liciafonseca @namenotimportant1373

461 notes · View notes

rhadamanthes · 10 months ago

Text

Mr.Policeman. Sukuna x reader

word count : 1,7 k words

warnings : officer!sukuna, fem reader, slight yandere reader, handcuff, finger sucking, rough sex, mention of baby trapping, creampie.

author's notes : this was inspired after watching a killer's paradox on netflix, i wanted to fuck that detective so bad... enjoy

Crushing the butt of his cigarette on the floor, Sukuna takes a deep breath before entering your apartment. Another call from you, urging him to come during his shift. You entered his life a few months ago, crying at the police station for a stolen purse. You gave an extensive description of the overpriced bag, and everything that was in it. When he found the culprit a few days later you came running to him, hugging him, thanking him over and over.

He made the mistake of calling you with his personal number. Ever since, there was not a single day where you haven't solicited him. A spider on the wall ? you call him. A sprained ankle? you call him. Can't find your keys ? another call. Every single time he denied you, you would come crying at the station refusing to talk to anyone but him. Sometimes he wonders if you have any self respect.

Earlier today he recieve a call from you, you sounded really panicked this time, you told him to come over without further reason. He did, when he enters your place, you don't come rushing to him like usual. Something off, he calls your name, A muffled voice comes from your room. Following the sound, he can't believe what he sees with his own eyes. You're laying on your bed, wearing a lacy nightgown as well as a robe. Your hands are tied up to the steel frame of your bed and you're gagged. What the hell happened this time? He sighs walking to you. Taking a seat on the bed he notices the fear in your eyes. Shit it's for real this time.

"What happened ? are you ok ?" he inquires, freeing your mouth.

"I'm fine Just a bit shocked, untie my wrists please it hurts" you quietly speak.

Sukuna feels bad, something happened to you and he was reluctant just at the thought of seeing you again. Once you're free, he encourages you to tell him what happened. Grabbing the notepad on the side of his uniform he's ready to take your testimony.

"I have a stalker, he was inside when I got there."

Writing down all the information as you speak, things don't add up. How could you call him? You were gagged when he got here but he heard you loud and clear on the phone. Closing the notebook he stares at you. This is the problem, he thinks, he never knows how to deal with you, what is true what isn't ? You look at him curiously when you notice he's not writing anymore.

"How could you call me if your wrists and mouth were restrained ?" he starts in a calm voice.

"I-i don't know i don't remember... I did what I can '' you stutters, the tears threaten to fall from your eyes, as you sob on his shoulder holding him tight.

Shit he is definitely acting like an ass today. He still can' shake the gut feeling he has, this added up to all your interaction since he knows you can't be a coincidence. You have a crush on him, worse an obsession could this be one of your schemes ? He needs to be sure. Separating your bodies, Sukuna holds you by your shoulder planting a sweet kiss on your lips, he waits a few moments but you don't deepen the kiss. When he breaks the contact , your brows are slightly furrowed. Could he be mistaken ?

"Officer, I'm not sure what you're doing" your sweet voice reach his ears, as you run your hands up his arms, squeezing his muscles.

You little vixen, this is all you desire. He should have known from the second he laid eyes on your stupid pink nightgown.

"You're not ?" he asks, locking his hand in your hair.

You shake your head left to right, looking at him through your lashes. He's going to ruin you, he doesn't want to be gentle. You made him lose so much time and sanity over the past few months. At the same time he also want to feed in your delusion, be sweet with you like the hero you see in him, to fuck you sensually as he saved you once again.

"Be kind to me officer, i'm still a bit shaken" you purr laying back on the bed.

"I have a name sweetheart, say it" he decided to play your game today.

"Sukuna, please make me feel good." Your voice is itching his brain the right way, maybe he should have folded way before today. You look particularly desirable in your little silk underwear.

"Should I use this?" he says, grabbing the cuffs you were previously tied with.

"Hmm I'd prefer if you used yours." you say tracing the police badge on his firm torso

"As you wish" he undresses you revealing your naked body under the gown. Of course you didn't bother wearing anything underneath. He huffs through his nose, you're endearing in your own way that's for sure. He taps your hips telling you to turn around. You dramatically hiss at the impact.

"Come on now" he scoffs

"But i want to see your face please" you beg, grabbing on his shoulders tightly.

"So demanding, is it because you're still scared? I'm here now, nothing will happen to you" he coos stradling your body.

Your lips met his, Sukuna let you lead, you take your time, exploring his mouth with your tongue. The kiss is so sweet you might actually make him rot. Feeling your hands fidgeting with his hips he grabs it as a reflex, breaking the kiss. His patrol cuffs are in your hands.

"Why don't you tie us together" you bat your eyelashes and Sukuna really thinks he went mad resisting you for so long.

Taking the cuff from your hand he clicks it on your left wrist, you do the same for his right one. A soft giggle escapes your lips once you're linked to each other, you're looking at him with pure lust now. He wants you too, can't wait to feel your warm pussy around him. He quickly kicks off his boots and gets rid of his trousers. He's about to take off his cap when you stop him.

"It's hot, keep it on Sukuna please" the way his name rolls off your tongue makes him feel like a brand new man. You're so salacious.

Granting you your wish he brings his cuffed hand to your lips, dipping two of his fingers in your mouth. You happily suck them in, never breaking eye contact. Your tied hand is wrapped around his wrist, keeping him in place. Once Sukuna feels they're wet enough he brings them to your pussy, rubbing your clit a few times before he curls them inside your wet walls. Your moans fill the room and he can't help but groan at the feeling.

"You don't even need it, you're so soaked" he gritts through his teeth, watching his fingers coated with your arousal, mixing with your saliva.

Jerking his cock he enters your pussy hungrily in one go. You both moan at the sensation. God you're everything he thought you would be, your pussy is squeezing in a delicious manner while you're splayed on your back eyes closed, mouth open. Sukuna starts with a slow pace until you beg him to go faster.

"You're such a brave girl taking it all like that" he grunts, snapping his hips harder against yours.

"You're proud of me ?" you mumble, scratching his back with your free hand.

"So proud" he can't keep his eyes off your breast as they bounce under each of his powerful thrust.

The more he ruts into you, the louder you get, he's intoxicated looking at his cock going in and out of your sopping cunt. It pussy hugs him perfectly and judging by the way you're moaning he can tell you feel good too.

Sukuna never considered himself a greedy person but for you he might just become one, lifting your legs up on his shoulders, he thrusts deeper in your cunt. As a reaction, you immediately sink your nails deeper in the skin of his back.

"Oh my god i feel you in my toes" you cry, the tingling sensation on your soles making you drunk on the feeling.

"Yeah?"

You can only hum in response, air taken out of your lungs. The bedroom sounds like a mess, your excitement makes wet noises under his powerful thrust. Sukuna moans at the way your cunt wraps perfectly around him. The bed is creaking under both your weights. You've been dreaming about this for so long you can quickly feel yourself reaching your high, you wish your every desire to be fulfilled.

"Sukuna cum inside me please" you beg searching for his ruby eyes.

Looking down at you he feels his stomach churn. You look so desirable right now, of course he wants to fill your pussy and watch his semen leak out of you, but you're so shifty could you trap him with a kid ? Feeling his hesitation you usher him closer, begging in his ear one more time.

His resolution easily dies down as your saccharine voice fills his brain.

"Shit, i'm going to fill you up" he grunts, pushing your gummy walls again and again to satisfy the both of you.

With one last thrust, the police officer makes you the happiest woman on earth, tainting your insides with his seed as your pussy squeezes him impossibly tighter with sweet release. His sweating body rests on top of yours as he slowly regains his breath. After a moment, he rolls on the side staring at the ceiling, before he can think about anything, you lay on his chest kissing his bare skin.

"I made us dinner if you're hungry I can heat it up" you purr tracing circles on his torso.

Not saying a word Sukuna wonders if he's ever going to be able to escape you after this.

592 notes · View notes

imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 2 years ago

Text

imagine bucky being drunk

warning: kinda spicy at the end

"He's doing it again."

Sam nudged you in the ribs, tearing your eyes away from Carol; who had been giving you the latest details on her life. The two of you frowned but then Carol smirked, nodding to your boyfriend across the small dive bar she had taken everyone to. Bucky was standing next to Steve and he was pretend punching him in the face. Steve was laughing whilst blocking his friend's air punches.

"I love drunk Barnes," Carol sighed contently and you agreed.

"He's so cute when he's drunk."

"Sure, real cute when the tab is over a grand because it takes a whole brewery to get him tipsy."

Ignoring Sam, you promised Carol you'd return to hear the rest of her story and she smirked, holding up her beer. "We have all night."

Stepping away from the table, you smiled at the bickering going on behind you as to who was going to pay for the tab. Leaving Wilson and Danvers to settle that argument, you walked over to the oldest men in the bar. Bucky's eyes moved to you and he grinned like a little puppy, pushing Steve aside to stumble over to you.

"God, you're so cute," he hollered, pretending to grab a piece of you to eat. He consumed air you and you laughed, grabbing his hand before he could take another bite.

Bucky quickly engulfed you into a hug, squeezing so tight you had to holler for him to release you. "I love a good strangling, but let's keep that for the bedroom, babe."

Steve groaned. "Come on, man."

You smirked, allowing Bucky to pull your back against his chest. He wrapped both arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulders. "Sounds like Stevie boy needs a little fun."

"That's what it sounds like," you echoed Bucky's sentiments and Steve rolled his eyes when you suggested Carol up as a potential booty call. "What? She's fucking hot. Smart. Funny."

"Captain America, Captain Marvel..." Bucky slurred out a burp and the two of you busted into laughter - giggling like children. Steve instantly turned red and that just made the laughter louder until Carol called out to see what was so funny.

"Don't say a word," Steve grumbled under his breath, pulling at his shirt. "...stay here."

Bucky and you watched as Steve made his way to the booth, sliding next to Carol, who smiled at him. Sam looked over to you and Bucky held a hazy finger to his lips - the veteran understood and quickly excused himself from the booth. He didn't bother walking over to Bucky and you, because everyone knew the two of you were ridiculous together, sober or drunk. Most people couldn't stand being in a room with the two of you for more than a few minutes; hands all over each other or worse, jokes and laughter that seemed endless.

Turning to face your boyfriend, you squished his cheeks and he practically beamed. He was totally drunk and you were totally in love. He kissed you on the lips, at first gently but then his grip tightened at your waist and you buckled against his body.

"....so cute I could eat."

"What's stopping you? The bathroom is unisex..."

Bucky practically welp, gathering you up in his arms in a haste. Having a former super solider as a boyfriend had its perks - his stamina was endless, his physique would make a grown man cry, but his strength? That man could lift hundreds of pounds, so no matter your weight - this motherfucker made you feel light as a feather. And boy, you could get him stiff as a board.

"I just know you're thinking nasty shit," he groaned, moving you towards the bathroom.

"I am but pure of heart, James."

Bucky smiled contently, kicking the bathroom open. It was as good as a bar restroom could get. He placed you gently on the sink and made sure the door was locked. Two strides, that's all it took for him to get on his knees and pulling your panties down from under your skirt. His eyes rolled back for a moment as he took in the sight, but then he glanced up at you with a devilish smile as he firmly spread your legs.

"I love you," he whispered right before diving in-between your thighs.

Rendered speechless, all you could do was grip his hair and lean back into the sink mirror; the lowlights flickering as Bucky reminded you how much you loved drunk him. When all his inhibitions disappeared and he got to enjoy the little things in life - which included going to bars with your closest friends, running the highest of tabs, trying to hook up friends, and most importantly, going down on your girlfriend in a dingy bathroom.

#bucky barnes going down on his girl #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #marvel #steve rogers x carol danvers

3K notes · View notes

yasikeu · 7 months ago

Text

warning: smut

When your group has to be sat next to Enhypen during an award show, you and Heeseung can't help but make eye contact every five seconds before quickly looking away

Heeseung wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off the big screen while you were performing or accepting an award. He would look absolutely mesmerised as if he was perceiving an angel in real life.

Later on that night, he manages to sneak away with you to a hotel room where he pins you against the wall caressing your hair softly, showering you with compliments about how good you looked while performing. His other hand resting on your waist. The feeling of his breath on your neck made your stomach do the thing (idk how to describe that but ifykyk).

Heeseung’s hands began to wander down to your lower body as he admired your curves.

“Fuck, this dress hugs your body in all the right places” he said with a hushed tone. “Heeseung, what if someone finds out we left without permission” you said with a worried face but you knew deep down you didn’t care at all, you would let him fuck the shit out of you right here right now if he wanted to. Heeseung cupped your face, “Shh, don’t worry baby I’ll take care of it.” he murmured as he pulled you close, leaving soft kisses on your lips.

You couldn't help but let out a moan as you suddenly felt his big hands squeeze your ass, starting to kiss your neck as his soft lips were brushing against your skin.

He manhandled you, facing your back towards him. “I need to fuck you right now. I don’t care about anything else”

“Tell me, tell me how bad you need me to fuck you” he mumbled into your ear as he grinded against your ass. “I need you to fuck me so bad Heeseung, please” you begged

Without hesitation Heeseung began to unzip your dress from the back pulling it all the way down. He laid you down on the bed as he looked down at you unzipping his pants. Not breaking eye contact once, even while he slid on a condom down his large length. His bulge was practically begging to be set free from his boxers the whole night seeing you perform in that tight dress. The sight of his thick cock hitting his abdomen caused you to bite your lip and stick your ass up signalling to him that you wanted him to put it inside. “So fucking needy”

Heeseung pulled your panties down with force, his pupils dilating while he began planting hickeys all over your inner thighs and collarbones. “You’re so perfect”

He turned you around before he began to line his tip with your pussy. Sliding it up and down as he bit his lip. “You’re already so wet baby”

“Only for you”

Heeseung was now balls deep inside of you thrusting in and out continuously as he rested his head on your shoulder.

“Fuck so fucking good”

“Your pussy feels like heaven”

“You’re taking me so well angel, keep going for me, I know you can”

“So fucking tight”

Your walls gripping tightly onto his cock was making you both feel so good. The room being filled with lewd sounds of skin slapping and moans.

What turned on Heeseung the most was the way your tits bounced as he mercilessly pounded inside you.

“Get on top of me baby”

Once you were on top, Heeseung let you ride him as he sucked on your tits like a starved man. Sucking licking and abusing the fuck out of you nipples. His tongue began to circle around the bud of your nipple. Your hands around his neck as you bounced on his cock, desperate for an orgasm. “Fuck I’m gonna cum” he moaned

Heeseung’s thrusts began again only to go deeper and deeper inside of you while he reached his climax. You let out a pornographic moan as you reached yours, throwing your head all the way back. “You did so well for me princess” he praised you as he kissed your head.

He lifted your legs and relaxed them on his shoulders. Slowly, he started to kiss from your thighs all the way up. You continued to let out soft pathetic whimpers while you caressed his hair.

The feeling of his nose grazing against your clit while he licked and sucked on your pussy made your legs tremble. “Feels so good Hee”

“I know baby, I know” he cooed as he stroked your thighs softly. The way his soft plump lips felt as they were making out with your cunt sent you into a euphoric state, your eyes rolling all the way back.

He could tell you were getting close by the way your breaths were quickening. Heeseung began to stick his tongue in and out of your pussy provoking you to gasp and let out a loud moan. “Cum all over my fingers baby” he looked up at you as he replaced his tongue with his two fingers. He was in complete awe as he watched you turn into a pathetic needy mess for him.

When you finally reached your climax you came all over his fingers. Heeseung licked his fingers clean while he looked at you. “Tastes so fucking good”.

He laid next to you as he noticed how tired and drained you looked.

“Let's just stay here for tonight” He wrapped his arms around you. You nodded in agreement with a weak smile on your face as you reciprocated his actions cuddling him back.

(I just wrote this right now and it’s 3 am so I’m sorry if there’s any mistakes or if it doesn’t make sense😭)

460 notes · View notes

dorabellingham · 1 month ago

Text

Play fair

warning: a little more sexual than normal

characters: jude x reader

summary: when you are far from each other and he decides to make a surprise, but things end up going another way

may contain spelling and translation errors!

It was dawn when you woke up from a confused dream and, when you opened your eyes, you found only silence. The bed seemed bigger, more empty, and you felt the cold air in the space that was usually filled by Jude's heat. He was away, travelling with the team, and his absence made each night seem longer.

You tried to turn around and sleep again, but it was impossible. The longing corroded, and the sheets had the smell of him, which only made everything worse. Every memory emerged strongly: his touch on your skin, the hoarse timbre of his voice whispering things that only you could hear, and the way he always pulled her close before going to sleep.

You sighed deeply, feeling your heart tighten. You ran your fingers through the empty pillow next to you, closing your eyes for a few seconds. There are only two days left, you remembered, trying to find consolation, but in fact, two days seemed like an eternity.

Unable to relax, you got up and walked around the house. The lights were off, and everything seemed too calm. You decided to get a glass of water in the kitchen, but even while drinking, the silence still screamed. You went back to bed, but sleep just didn't come.

It was almost three in the morning when you heard the sound of the key turning at the door. You froze, your heart beating fast. It was impossible for it to be him, but at the same time, who else would have the key?

You got up slowly, his bare feet against the cold floor, and went to the corridor. When the door finally opened, you saw the tall and familiar figure entering. Judae

-Jude?

Your voice came out weaker than you expected, full of disbelief.

He put the suitcase on the floor and opened a tired but satisfied smile.

-Surprise, babe!

He said, his eyes shining when he saw you standing there, with his T-shirt covering your body.

Before you could answer, he was already crossing the space between you, pulling her into a tight hug. His smell, the heat, the presence... everything was real again, and you felt your eyes fill with tears.

-What are you doing here? Shouldn't you come back in just two days?

You asked, the voice muffled against his chest.

-I knew you missed me, and so did I. -He replied, holding your face with his big hands and looking directly into your eyes. -I needed to get back to you.

You couldn't answer, because before he could think of anything, Jude tilted his head and kissed you with intensity. It was as if he was waiting for it all the time, as if every second away from you had been unbearable.

You responded to the kiss with the same urgency, holding his shirt and pulling him closer. His hands slid down your waist, squeezing as if he wanted to memorise each curve, while he felt the heat rise through his body.

-You're crazy, Bellingham.

You murmured against his lips, panting.

-Crazy about you.

He replied, with that corner smile that made you lose control.

He took you on his lap with ease, as if you didn't weigh anything, and began to walk towards the room.

-Darling....

You started protesting, but he interrupted you.

-Shh. You have no idea how I waited for that.

He said, his voice hoarse and low, sending chills all over your spine.

When you arrived in the room, he gently put you on the bed, but there was nothing soft in the look he threw at you. It was intense, loaded with desire, and you felt your cheeks getting hot.

He took off his shirt with a quick movement, revealing the muscular body you knew so well, and you bit your lower lip, trying not to show how much you were being affected.

-You don't play fair, Jude.

You said, the voice is low and almost trembling.

-I never promised I would play, sweetie.

He replied, leaning over you while his smile increased.

His hands found the bar of your shirt - or rather, his shirt - and slowly slid it up, revealing more of your skin. You didn't try to stop him, you just closed your eyes and let him drive.

The kisses began on the neck, slowly descending as his hands explored every centimetre they had missed. You held the sheets tightly, trying to contain the small sounds that tried to escape from your lips, but Jude seemed to know exactly how to provoke you.

-I missed it so much, Y/n.

He murmured against you skin, his voice deep and hoarse.

You couldn't answer; all you could do was pull him closer, as if you needed him to breathe.

The room was filled with low sighs and moans, each more desperate than the other. There was nothing soft or delicate that night; it was pure accumulated desire, longing overflowing with every touch and movement.

When you finally walked away, both were panting, your bodies hot and intertwined. Jude looked at you with a satisfied smile, and you rolled your eyes, although you couldn't contain your own smile.

-Did you miss me for that?

You provoked.

-And was it enough, babe?

He replied, with that presumptuous tone that you hated to love.

You shook your head, laughing low, and snuggled up to his chest.

-Next time, try not to keep me waiting so long.

He wrapped you in his arms, kissing the top of your head.

-I promise. Next time, I won't be able to stay even half of this time away from you.

And that night, for the first time in days, you finally slept peacefully.

191 notes · View notes

oceantornadoo · 10 days ago

Text

ch14 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: guns and violence. christmas is mentioned but nothing religious

last chapter yall! i did not edit this srry

masterlist

The day your life changes forever, again, is emotional for all the wrong reasons.

Two months after you get rescued (John insists that you rescued yourself, but you like to remember that image of him haloed by light at the top of the stairs like an angel), you send your brother and his husband back home to Manchester. The morning breeze whips the fabric of your coat as you squint at your family in front of you. Simon is dressed in his usual dark slacks and button down, the lines of his tattoos escaping the fabric to trail up his neck. Johnny’s mohawk has grown into a mullet, curly hairs framing his face like a cherub. They stand in front of the Castle doors with their backs to the waiting car, eyes trained on you and occasionally flicking to John or Gaz at your sides.

“I’m going to miss you.” You murmur, hugging Johnny first. He squeezes you until you’re lifted off the ground and pounding on his back to let you go. “Gonna miss ye too, hen.” He sets you on your feet laughing, then leans in to kiss your forehead. “Take care of y’rself.” He says it to you but his eyes meet John’s, a silent conversation happening between them. You turn to Simon, leaving Johnny to have intimidating handshakes with the men by you.

“Bye, Si.” He smothers you in a hug like he’s trying to merge you into him. “Bye, my love.” You sniffle into the crook of his neck, willing yourself not to cry. “You gonna visit more often?” You ask, voice weak with emotion. He nods tightly against you. “And it can’t just be because I got kidnapped. You need to come for fun.” He grumbles something nonsensical at that. Simon’s still sensitive over not finding Phil, a task that had eaten away at him all month. John finally called it after there was evidence Phil fled to Cuba. Simon squeezes you once more, freezing for a second when he feels the Glock tucked in your waistband. He sets you on your feet, his eyes searching yours as you try to tell him why. Satisfied that he found something, Simon nods resolutely. His eyes are wet but in a blink they’re dry, maintaining his tough-guy persona. You snort back a sob like a real woman, turning away as the men shake hands.

“Bye, guys!” You say one last time as they turn, hands almost brushing on their walk to the car. Johnny winks at you before dipping into the car while Simon turns his head upwards like he’s blinking back tears. The door shuts and they disappear in a cloud of exhaust.

John’s arm wraps around your waist, tugging you into him. You go willingly, hiding your face in his neck as you fold into him. “You’ll see him for Christmas, sweetheart.” Only a few weeks away, but it feels like eons. John kisses the side of your head, squeezing you tight until you can breathe. “John, I just…” You don’t even know what you want to say, just that you already miss your family with a deep ache in your heart. His free hand finds purchase at the nape of your neck, tugging you closer into him. “I know, baby, I know.” The simple acknowledgement of your feelings calms your breathing into a normal rhythm until you can pull back with a small smile on your face.

“I think I’m going to take a walk. Clear my head.” He nods, his beard pulling at the sides. You notice new grey hairs at the sides, a worrying look. “I’ll come?” You shake your head no, then peck him on the lips. “I think I need to be alone, honey. You can have all the men watch me from every corner of the park, I promise.” John knocks his forehead into yours for a second before pulling back with a grim smile on his face. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.” He pecks your forehead and turns back inside. Gaz nods at you, then taps his ear and speaks something into his earpiece.

You venture across the street into the local park. It reminds you a bit of Central Park in the movies, full of natural structures rather than just a flat patch of grass. You let your feet guide you, taking deep breaths in the crisp winter air. A moment later, you realize this is the first time in a while you haven’t thought about your kidnapping. Your therapist’s breathing techniques make an appearance as you pat yourself on the back.

Though the leaves are dead and the air is chilly, there’s still a lot of foliage in the park. Considerable bunches of bushes protect you from the wind as you walk in deeper. It’s calming to know that there’s guards watching you from somewhere you can’t see, a safety blanket to fall back on. As you turn left, you notice a tiny hill that rises into an overhang. Your feet weave a path towards it, settling your back to the rock wall and sliding down into a sitting position as you contemplate the last few months.

Footsteps crunch on dead leaves as someone approaches from behind you. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’d really prefer to be alon-” You stop in the middle of your sentence when you register the man standing in front of you. He’s thinner from when you last saw him, cheeks gaunt and sallow. His hair looks thinner and though you know it’s not possible, he looks shorter. A dark cap blocks you from seeing his eyes, an unsettling realization creeping over you.

“What, how, I thought you left the country?” Phil shakes his head, advancing near your spot. You scramble to sit up, wincing as your head knocks against the short overhang. You try to step out of its shadow but Phil steps forward again, preventing you from peeling out of the shadows. “Couldn’t leave you, sugar. Was jus’ waiting for your brother to leave.” You shiver at his insinuation. He seems…off. No longer the confident assistant or the wily interrogator. It’s like you are his mission now that Shepherd is gone.

“Why don’t we get out of this cold and grab a tea, Phil? I bet you’re shivering.” He’s not even wearing a coat, dressed in a worn pair of jeans and a cotton long sleeve. If you can just get out of the overhang so security can see you…

Phil shakes his head, fumbling for something at his side. Your dominant hand is still against the hard slab of rock, originally there to steady you as you stood up. “I’ve been watchin’ you. Waiting.” You nod, hand pressing against your pants as you fumble for the Glock tucked in your waistband. “Waiting for what?” You steady your voice so it doesn’t sound nervous. You smile sweetly at him, like you’re excited to be conversing with your kidnapper. Phil smiles back and you hold back your flinch. He’s missing two teeth, like they were pulled out at all the wrong angles. You shiver to think of how else Shepherd punished him.

“To talk to you, sugar. We could’ve had somethin’ great at the bookstore.” You swallow and nod, smiling tightly. Your hand finally finds the cold metal of the gun, fingers falling into a familiar grip at the handle. “I know, I’m sorry it went the way it did. I enjoyed our time there.” He nods sharply, eyes glittering with zeal. Shepherd must have knocked something loose in his brain, some part to turn him into this frenzied stalker. Phil looks at a loss for words so you stumble through a question.

“How were you watching me? Must’ve been pretty clever of you.” You give him a tooth grin, encouraging him to continue with a head nod. “Well, I-” You flick out your gun, hands sure as you aim it at him. “I need you to step backwards, Phil.” He refuses, shaking his head vehemently. “I can’t let you out there, sugar. My mission isn’t complete.” You walk forward with the gun and Phil doesn’t follow your lead, standing tall. “Move, Phil. Let’s talk this out in the park.”

It happens in a flash.

Phil reaches for the gun and you fire. Years of lessons come back instantly, all those times you pushed yourself to learn self-defense techniques, even when Johnny pleaded exhaustion and Simon pleaded never-ending work. You squeeze the trigger again, shooting through his outstretched fingers. It’s like a release.

The gunshot garners the attention of your security team. Men and women swarm you instantly, securing the body and taking the weapon out of your grip. John is there a minute later, petting your face worriedly. Gaz is asking questions but all you can focus on is the maroon stain of blood drying on the dusty rocks and lifeless grass of the park. You squeeze the gun in your grip before realizing someone took it from you, your fingers only finding air.

“I did it.” Finally, your eyes focus on John’s, noting the concern woven into your skin. “You did.” His hands don’t stop moving, squeezing your face and sides like he can’t believe you’re in front of him. “Let’s get you home, sweetheart. Ok?” You nod once and he smiles like you’ve impressed him. “Ok.”

For Christmas, John only buys you one gift.

Well, not exactly.

John cannot bear the sight of his city anymore, so he convinces you to stay, temporarily, in the countryside after you shoot Phil. After you, his wife, killed her own enemy in a park. A fact he reminds himself of everyday, turning it around in his brain like a puzzle he can’t solve. He can’t protect you, plain and simple. There’s only one solution for that.

You beg him to do Christmas in the library in front of the fireplace, a festive tree tucked in the corner. It’s been just you and him since the shooting. He can’t bear losing your attention to any other person and you’re too skittish to be around more than one person at a time. Jumping at every footstep, staring at the corners of the old master bedroom in the estate like there are ghosts watching. Laswell’s wife agreed that an escape to a new location might be good for you since the Castle and its surrounding park hold too many terrifying memories.

“I want you to open this one first, John.” There you are, haloed by firelight as you hand him a red and green present. You’re clothed in Christmas pajamas, a matching set you forced John to wear as well. He shakes his head no, sliding the envelope from where he was holding it behind his back. “You first, sweetheart.” You drop the present with a frown, snatching the envelope from his waiting hands.

You break the wax seal impatiently, tugging the set of papers out of their cage and setting them on the floor in front of you. Your eyes scan the papers quickly before frowning at him. “What are these?” John scans your face for any sense of a reaction, but it’s a smooth mask. “Read the top, baby.” You don’t look down at the papers, eyes trained on his face. “Let me rephrase. Why are you handing me divorce papers, John?” He sighs frustratedly.

“I can’t protect you. You said it, sweetheart. You’re trapped. I’m lettin’ you out. You never signed up for losin’ your life.” Instead of answering him, you slap your hands on the wooden floors and scramble into a standing position. “You’re an absolute ass, you know that?” You turn smartly and march into the bookshelves, John sharp on your heels. He thought this might happen, but he didn’t expect such an angry reaction. He thought you might be a little distraught but glad to go back to Manchester and put this shamble of a marriage behind you.

You’re muttering things under your breath as he chases you through the bookshelves. Right before the shelf ends, you whip around, flames in your eyes. “I haven’t hated you for months, but I think I do right now.” You bite out. John puts his hands up like you’re a wild animal needing to be calmed. “I thought you’d be glad. You were trapped.” You roll your eyes, nearing him quickly. “If I didn’t choose this marriage, you would know, John. I can clearly use a gun.” You haven’t talked about the shooting too much. John shut you away and waited for you to fall apart, but all you’ve done is…survive. John doesn’t respond, too thrown by your admission. Now you’re in his space, your chest meeting his own with every inhale. When he still doesn’t answer, you continue. “I love you, you absolute idiot. I did before I was kidnapped and I do now. You held me after I killed a man, John. Why would I divorce you?” John has no logical response. He drops to his knee.

“Marry me again. Just us, doin’ it ‘cause we can.” You blink, thrown by the change in events. “You just served me divorce papers.” You blurt. John smiles. “I didn’t sign them so even if you did, we’d be…” He gestures into open air, like he can’t articulate that he intended to trap you again. A terrible, terrible man. He can’t believe you love him.

“I hate you.” You say, smiling. “You love me.” You shake his head at your words. “That’s it?” You murmur, suddenly shy. That’s right, he almost forgot. “I love you too, sweetheart. Have since the weddin’, if we’re bein’ honest.” You bite your lip in surprise. John rises up and you pull him in, kissing him hard. “Tha’ a yes?” He murmurs, kissing your jaw. “Yes, Mr. Price. I’ll marry you again.”

GUYSSSS she's over!! she's done!! thank you for all the kind likes and comments and reposts and overall support it means the WORLDDDD. stay tuned for more price content <333

@heretoreadanddrinktea

@peachyxrosie

@joufrance

@galactict3a

@exactlyyoungchaos

@trulovekay

@alleycc

@abox-of-rocks

@orangehibiscus

@mismatchsposts

@nova-willow-541

@throwing-up-butterflies

@grossitsluca

@evans-dejong

@popcornlauncher

@earthcole

@backfromthedeadhehehe

@baduzzxy

@thegreyjoyed

@cutelibrariangf

@dearghostling

@mrsmalfoy1005

@all-by-myself98

@snburntandsad

@baklovers

@rmikaelson01

@leon-thot-kennedy

@the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned

@barcelonaaababe

@brokenandemptyhearts

@sleep101

@ontopofthefridge

@lilynotdilly

@teenagellamaangel

@harperdoodle

@ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii

@violetisheresworld

@lolwey

@polyfandom-blogs

@burrowedinnature77

@sharkerino

@ashy-kit

@aikojwhpa

@thriving-n-jiving

@krispymagazinepizza-blog

@grayskel

@rpgsandstuff

@hisuccubus

@lumi-kalyke

@gimmeabreak1

305 notes · View notes