#i want to grind and buck so ferociously it starts to hurt

[littleleorising]

im going to howl and scream and bite.

[r0zyp0zy0zy]

✾A Pretty Little Maid ☼✶

Hello! This is my first ever time posting one of my fics on Tumblr, so bare with me if it seems like I don't know what I'm doing (bc I DONT) please enjoy, and Let me know who else you would like to see in a maid outfit ;)

Master list

Words: 3040

Warnings/kinks: SMUT, Barebacking, Cross-dressing, Gags, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Begging, Dirty Talk, Face Sitting, fem dom

Pairing: Midoriya Izuku x FemDom!Reader

Summary: you find the perfect outfit for your pretty boy

--- NSFW under the cut ---

"I'm a little nervous," Deku said from behind the bathroom door.

"You'll look great, Izu-chan!" You replied, practically bursting in excitement.

"I don't know... it's a little," izuku mumbled, "it's a little short."

"Babe, it's supposed to be that way," you said with a smile.

"O-oh."

You couldn't help but get the maids outfit displayed at the mall. It appeared black, but if you looked close enough you could see the shimmering emerald green woven into the fabric. It was perfect for Deku; all it needed was a few readjustments.

"Just come out here already!" You giggled. "I'm starting to get impatient."

The door to the bathroom opened, and your jaw dropped to the floor. The Rivet Garter Belts strapped to Izuku's thighs held up his green and white stripped stockings, and the skirt was short enough that you could just see his boxers peeking out the bottom. The chest had been hemmed so it sat snugly against his skin; And the cherry on top, a copy of his hero costume's ears sat as a headband on his head.

A bright smile shone on his face, complementing the hot blush on his freckled cheeks, "r-really?"

"Well yeah," you bit your lip as you walked closer to him, "I wouldn't have gotten it if I thought you would look bad in it."

Deku spun in a slow circle, showcasing more of his outfit. Silky ribbon laced up the back of the dress, the black contrasting from his pale skin.

"Such a pretty boy," you purred, taking his hands in yours, "Don't you think?"

Izuku blushed deeper, "I-I guess."

"You guess?" You questioned, quirking your brow. "That's not what you're supposed to say."

Deku gulped, and bit his lip, "what am I supposed to say?"

You smiled brightly, curling a lock of his hair behind his ear, "you're supposed to say: 'yes. I am a pretty boy. I'm your pretty boy'."

"So..," you pressed, "don't you think you're a pretty boy?"

"Y-yes," Deku gulped, his bright eyes looking into yours.

"Mm-mm," you shook your head.

"No...?" Midoriya said, confused.

You relished his nervous stature, and watched as he fiddled with the hem of his skirt, "no."

You pulled him backwards towards the bed, and sat him down. He looked adorable looking up at you, his head slightly tilted in confusion.

"Tell me," you started, licking your lips, "that you're a pretty boy."

Izuku's eyes watched as your tongue rolled over your lips and shivered in anticipation, "I-I'm a p-pretty boy."

"Good boy," you said, straddling his lap and cupping his face. "With more confidence this time."

"I'm a pr-pretty boy!" Deku said, his voice cracking. Impossibly, his face reddened even more in embarrassment.

"Mmh, better," you nodded.

You gently pushed him forwards onto his back, and dragged your hands down his chest, and back up again. You gave him a peck on the lips, and settled a bit more comfortably on his lap.

Izuku squirmed underneath you, and loosely gripped your hips. You could see his dick slowly hardening from behind his skirt. You leaned forward, and gave him a deeper kiss. You dragged your lips down to his neck, and pulled his choker by the charm. You let it fall from your teeth and it snapped back, causing Izuku to moan slightly.

He bucked his hips up, just barely grazing your crotch. He leaned up to kiss, and you obliged. His lips felt amazing on yours, and he craved more. Your hands weaved through his hair and you began to pull at it. Deku moaned into your mouth in surprise.

You pulled back and took off your shirt, making Midoriya bite his lip. You smiled as you felt his cock on your heat, and you began to slightly rock your hips.

"Hhmmg," Izuku groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping your hips harder.

"Such a pretty boy," you admired. His lips were bright red and plump between his teeth, and his bunny ears lay crooked on his head. "Look at me, baby."

Izuku's eyes slowly opened, and you could see how blown out his pupils were. They shone brightly at you, watching intently. You trailed two of your fingers up your chest and inserted them into your mouth, tonguing them both so they were covered in saliva.

On cue Deku opened his mouth expectantly, practically begging for your fingers. Once you were satisfied, you pulled them out of your mouth, leaving a trail of saliva in between them.

Your fingers dipped into Izuku's mouth, letting his hot tongue lap at your juices. He sucked on them intently, taking care not to hurt you with his teeth. Izuku let out a whine when you pulled your fingers away, but got excited again as he watched you strip off your pants.

He felt his dick twitch as he watched you pull your underwear down, revealing your perfect pussy, "please."

"Shh, quiet," you said, stuffing your fingers in his mouth again. He took your fingers good and made sure they were nice and lubed.

Your fingers were once again removed from his mouth, now making their way to your core. You collected your slick, mixing Deku's saliva with it. You slowly rubbed your clit, grabbing one breast with your other hand.

"Oh fuck y/n," Izuku moaned, grabbing your thighs.

"I said to shoosh," you frowned, grabbing your panties and shoving them in his mouth to gag him.

"Mmmfummck," muffled Izuku. The taste of you drove him crazy and he tried to savour the flavour.

You inserted your fingers into your pussy, creating a 'squelch' sound, "mm, you liking the show, pretty boy?"

"Mmhmm," Deku nodded with wide eyes. The way you pleasured yourself made him squirm, and he almost grabbed you so he could do it himself.

"You've been a good boy so far, I think you deserve a treat," you said, taking the panties out of his mouth and replacing them with your pussy.

"Oohhhmm," Izuku groaned, sending shivers up your spine. He loved your taste, and having the source so close drove him into madness.

His hands grabbed your thighs to keep you there, and he ground his face into your heat. He lapped up your juices ferociously, moaning with every lick and suck.

"Oh fuck Izu," you moaned, grabbing his hair so you could bring him even closer to you. This boy could make you cum in minutes, and you could feel an orgasm in your stomach already.

"Fuck me good with your tongue, baby!" You groaned. "Eat me up!"

In response, Izuku went feral with his mouth and somehow moaned with even more intensity, desperate to please you.

"Such a good boy for me, Izu," you moaned, playing with your breasts.

You could feel his whimpers vibrate through your core. He was really ravaging your pussy, and the way he clutched your thighs like his life depended on it.. fuck.

"Oh my god, so close! So close!" You squealed, grinding harder on his face. "Be a good boy and make me cum, Izu!"

Deku kept up his pace, making sure that you were enjoying yourself. His dick was stupid hard, and he thought that he might cum just from pleasuring you. He whimpered at the thought— that would result in punishment. He couldn't help but get even more excited, and he sucked roughly on your clit.

The orgasm boiled in your stomach, and you felt about to burst. Your head flew back with a moan, and Izuku's grip on your thighs tightened.

"Coming!" You yelled. "Oh fuck I'm coming!"

You felt drool roll down your chin as you rode your high, shaking from the after shocks, "oh, good boy Izu."

You pulled off of him and he gulped for air, "thank you! Oh my god thank you, y/n!"

Deku's bunny ears were now completely off, and his face was a mess of your juices. He had a crazed look on his face, clearly wanting more of you.

"Of course baby," you said, leaning down to grab a kiss from him. You could taste your pussy juices on his tongue; prodding deeper into his mouth with your own.

Deku moaned as you sucked on his tongue, hands roaming your body wherever he could reach. The way you grinded your hips with his drove him crazy. He could feel your arousal seeping through his boxers, and he shuttered.

"Please," Izuku whined, "please touch me."

And you obliged, slowly making your way down his chest with your mouth. You palmed at his erection, treasuring his soft pleads. Deku's hips stuttered upward, trying to get as much friction as possible.

"Look at you, a pretty mess under me," you beamed. His eyes were wide, silently begging for more. "Pretty boy."

"Yes," Izuku groaned, "yours, all yours!"

"All mine? Mmm, well if you're mine I better take care of you," you hummed.

All Deku did was moan in response, thrusting his hips up once again. You gently massaged his thighs, taking great care to avoid the place he wanted you to touch most. He writhed underneath you, trying to calm his nerves.

"Please y/n," Deku whimpered pathetically, his hands fisting the bedsheets.

"Please what, Izu?" You encouraged, playing with his Rivet Garter Belts. He bit on his lip to conceal a moan, but you shook your head. "Let it out, baby."

"Please fuck me! Oh my go-hod please. I want you to ride me so good, y/n, please!" Izuku weeped.

"Such a good boy," you smiled, "asking so nicely for me." You unclipped your bra, letting the straps slide down your arms. You tossed it to the floor and licked your lips, focusing on Izuku's pleads.

Your fingers made their way to the waistband of his boxers, and you teasingly pulled them off. Deku groaned as the restraint was removed, and he tried to hump the air.

"Sh-sh, baby," you said, gently pressing your palms against his chest. "Relax. I've got you."

Izuku nodded weakly and tried to regulate his breathing. Deep breath in, and out. Once his boxers were slid off of his legs, you finally gripped the base of his cock with one hand.

"Thank you!" He cried, still desperate for more of your sweet touch.

You grinned, using your other hand to pump around his head. His whimpers of delight and frustration brought you joy. Once you were satisfied from teasing him, you lowered your mouth and took a lick. You rolled your tongue in his salty precum, spreading it around the head.

"Oh... my.. god," Izuku breathed. You looked up at him as you suckled on his length.

His eyes were locked onto you, and he almost squealed when you met his stare. Your tongue was amazing on his dick. You made him feel so good, and if it wasn't for all his willpower, he would've came by now. He groaned and let his head fall back on his pillow.

"Does that feel good, Izu?" You asked, watching him lose himself.

"Y-yes," he forced, barley able to talk. "Feels.. so good.."

You wrapped your mouth back onto him, sinking deeper until you reached the base of his cock. Izuku yowled in delight, and you felt his hands loosely grip your hair. You let your throat restrict around him, and used your fingers to gently fondle his balls. He was so sensitive, and you loved it. His moans filled the room as you gagged on him, rolling your tongue on his length.

"P-please..," Izuku mumbled. His hands turned into fists in your hair, and you let him face fuck you. You made a thought to punish him later for that. "So fucking good.. mmmph."

You started to hum on his cock, sending vibrations through him. He was close, and you knew it. He thought about being punished for gripping your head like this, but right now he was in bliss. He knew that your punishment would be tame anyway.

"—fuck!" He whined, feeling his cum build up within him. "So close, y/n. 'M gonna cum!"

You let him use you, for you loved his moans too much. He started to stutter his hips, and you could tell he was going to cum soon. You moaned like a bitch on his cock, sucking on him like his cum was your only sustenance.

"Gugh," Izuku groaned, thrusting hard two times. His seed filled your mouth, and you made sure to keep a good mouthful for him to taste.

You pulled away and rose up, giving Izuku a wet kiss. You climbed up his body and sat yourself just above his cock. You pushed his hands above his head so he wouldn't grab your hips in desperation. You let the cum in your mouth flow into his, and he almost choked. At the same moment, you rubbed your heat on his cock, slowly impaling yourself on it.

"Holy fuck, thank you! Thank you so much!" Izuku moaned. Your touch was electric against his skin, and he shivered as you licked at his neck.

"Let me see," you said expectantly. Obediently, Deku opened his mouth and wiggled his tongue, proving that he swallowed everything you gave him.

Izuku's mouth hung open as you began to ride him, "oh shit. Fuck."

You smiled at him as you got used to his size. Once you were ready, you pulled off him, and thumped down. You bit your lip at Deku's moan, watching as he struggled not to grab your hips.

Izuku whimpered at the overstimulation, but he knew he deserved it for grabbing your hair like that.

"Fuck— please, y/n. Oh fuck, please," he moaned, grasping the bedsheets beside him.

You ground your hips down, and moved them in a circular pattern. Izuku looked like he didn't know what to do with himself, running his hands over his chest, and down to your thighs. His body tried to escape your grasp on reflex, twisting away from you

"Baby," you said, "stop that shit and touch me."

You didn't have to tell him twice, and he immediately grabbed your waist, helping you grind against him. His scarred hands massaged your breasts, pinching your nipples and rolling them with his fingertips.

"Oh fuck, Izu," you moaned, putting your hands over his.

Deku's hips bucked upwards, and you went with it. You started bouncing on his cock, startling a delicious moan from the boy underneath you. His mouth hung open still, tongue hanging out.

"Pretty boy," you mumbled, grasping his hair. Izuku babbled little nothings into the air, agreeing. "Who's pretty boy are you?"

"Yours, all yours! I'm your pretty boy!" He whined, head spinning in pleasure.

"Good boy, Izu," you praised. You quickened your pace, shoving him deeper inside of you. "So pretty and messy for me."

All Deku could do was nod, afraid that if he spoke he would embarrass himself. He could still taste cum in his mouth and he groaned.

"I-I-I-," Izuku stuttered, unable to form a sentence.

"What was that? Speak up baby boy," you hummed.

"I-I'm so close," he trembled. "Please let me come for you."

"Mm, not yet. I'm not done with you," you replied, playing with his choker.

Izuku felt like he was going to burst, but he didn't want to be bad. That would mean more punishment, and he would have to have his cock locked up. He tried not to listen to your beautiful moans, but it was so hard not to.

"S-stop I'm going to come!" Deku moaned, desperate that you would listen to him.

You pulled off of him to let him have a breather, and went right back down on him, "good boy, warning me that you were too close."

This cycle continued for a few rounds, until Izuku was a completely desperate mess. His squirming form made it a little difficult to ride him, but you managed.

"Do you want to come?" You asked him.

"Yes! Yes please y/n!" Izuku whined. "So bad!"

"Then make me come first," you said, giving him a grin.

"Yes! Yes!" He squealed, gripping your waist. "Please come, y/n! I wanna make you come so bad!"

His begging and pleading made you so hot, and you felt a tightening in your stomach, "who's my pretty boy?"

"Me! I'm your pretty boy! All for you!" Izuku sobbed. His lashes were wet with tears, desperately trying not to come.

"Oh fuck, what a good boy," you moaned, reaching down to rub your clit. "Almost there."

Deku whimpered at your words, "yes! Come on my cock, I want you to feel so good!"

Izuku almost couldn't contain himself as he felt you squeeze his dick with your pussy. He was gonna— he was gonna come!

"Please!" Izuku bleated, holding onto sanity by a hair.

"Come baby," you directed. "You've been such a good, pretty boy. Come for me baby."

Izuku threw his head back into the pillows, and let out a strangled grunt as he fucked up into you, "I'm coming for you! Oh y/n thank you! Thank you!"

You continued to ride him until he cried out in overstimulation, "that was amazing, Izu."

He whimpered in response, watching you pull off of him. He reached out a shaky hand, lightly gripping your wrist, "thank you. That was so good."

"One more thing, baby," you said, licking your lips, "clean up the mess you've made."

Izuku nodded, and opened his mouth greedily, awaiting your pussy once again. Your thighs around his face felt like he was in heaven, and he sucked his cum out of you.

You pulled off of him, and leaned down to kiss him, "that was amazing, baby boy. Here, let's get you out of that dress and into something a bit comfier."

Once Deku was changed into sweatpants, and you in underwear, he cuddled up to you with a content sigh. You rested your head on his shoulder, giving him a quick peck, "I love you."

"I love you too," he smiled.

[justimagineitblog]

“You Used To Love Me” Michael Gray Fan Fiction - Chapter 9

A/N: alright everyone here is some smut as requested ahahaha 

Please enjoy and don’t get to flustered ;) 

We are heading into the final Chapter’s now - so buckle in because anything could happen and it might not be what you expect !! 

I gasp as my back and head crash up against the wall behind us, breaking our kiss.

“Shit, sorry” Charlie breathes as we both burst into a chuckle, grinning against each other lips.

Charlie and I had been kissing and undressing one another with such haste and desperation that we had completely lost all awareness of our surroundings in my apartment. We had barely even been able to control ourselves in the whole car ride home, and were basically half undressed by the time we burst through my front door.

He takes my face in his hands, giving me a smile just as gentle as his touch. He gazes down a me lovingly as he lowers his head, his lips meeting mine in a tender kiss.

But it’s not long before we’re back to ravaging one another. Each kiss is hotter, fiercer, rougher than the next. I want to kiss him tenderly. To go slow. This is first man I’ve slept with since Michael. But I just can’t help myself. The way his hands feel as they run along every inch of my body, his lips as they work along my jawline and the skin below my ear. I would let him tear this goddamn dress of and have me up against the wall here. And I know he can feel it to. Without breaking our kiss, I lead us down the hall into my bedroom.

Immediately we work at the rest of our clothing. Our kisses become messy and hasty as I wrestle with his coat, every few moments one of us chuckling at how wild we’re behaving. We’re like animals. Like teenagers. So eager and desperate we’re basically tripping over ourselves.

His coat his thrown somewhere to the side, and I work at his buttons as he practically rip his tie from around his neck.

The room is filled with heavy panting as we try to regain what little breath we can. My heart rate speeds up, skipping several beats as each button that I undo exposes the skin beneath. Maybe it’s the moonlight through the window, the alcohol, or the high that I’m on, but the sight of his body gives me shivers. He looks like something out of a goddamn movie. Each and every toned muscle looks like it was carved from expensive stone. His chest is broad and strong, and I watch it rise and fall heavily.

Feeling his hands on my thighs brings me back to reality, as they trail up my sides and land at my waist, leaving a wake of goosebumps in their path.

“Turn around” he coos in my ear, as he rotates me until my back is facing him.

His long, slender fingers fight with the buttons on my dress, and it doesn’t take long for his lips to find my skin again. They’re wet and warm as he plants tiny kisses along my shoulder, up my neck, finally landing at my jaw. I can’t stop my head from falling back as he nibbles at my sensitive skin.

I feel the last button give way and the fabric slip down over my bodice, exposing my breasts. His fingers hook onto the dress and drag it down the rest of the way until I’m left in nothing but my lace underwear, that barely cover anything anyway. I turn back to face him, pressing my bare chest up against his as we reconnect, our lips colliding once more. His hands grab at my thighs, and I follow his lead as he lifts me up, my legs wrapping around his waist.

Walking us over to the bed, he lays me down slowly. When he steps back, I watch as he takes a long hard breath as his eyes fall over my naked body.

“Jesus” he hisses under his breath as though I wasn’t meant to hear it.

He wastes no time, meeting me on the bed again. But he doesn’t bother kissing my lips. With his body hovering over mine, he plants his lips on my chest and begins to trail down.

My back arches immediately at the sensation, and I can feel his lips smirk as they get lower and lower. He slides a hand to my back, supporting me as he reaches my stomach. Each kiss feels painfully slow as he gets closer and closer to my heat, which is dying for some kind of touch, some kind of friction. I bite down on my lip, hard, as he places one cruel kiss over the top of my panties. My breath hitches as I all but jerk my hips against his mouth. He chuckles, and the humming of his low voice sends a tsunami of hot shivers up my spine.

I can’t help but chuckle myself, otherwise the intensity of this moment would be all to much. He stands up, leaving me panting and covered in goosebumps, before reaching down and hooking his fingers into the lace of my panties. He looks up at me once, waiting eagerly for reassurance to go ahead. But both of us know there’s no stopping now. There’s no way in hell I could stop now. One nod of consent is all it takes for him to glide the panties down over my ass and thighs, all the way down to my ankles until he throws them across the room. He crawls back towards me, and I don’t even hesitate to widen my legs, making room for him in-between them.

The pit of my stomach does a million back flips as I watch him stop, lowering himself above my crotch. His lips aren’t even on my heat yet, but just feeling his hot breath drives me wild. He places one kiss on each hip bone, cruel and slow. I can’t help myself from writhing and twitching beneath his, my body begging for him.

The second he plunges between my legs, his mouth and tongue making love to my heat, I almost come undone instantly. My back arches immediately, and as my mouth falls wide open with a gasp, I can’t help a whimpering moan from tumbling out. He works his tongue meticulously, rhythmically, each long stroke more ferocious than the next.

I almost expect myself to completely unravel right then and there. In a matter of minutes he has made me virtually melt beneath him. But when he senses my breaths quickening, as I close in on my climax, he pulls away. I don’t even have time to comprehend what he is doing before his lips suddenly crash with mine. The kiss is sloppy and heavy as he also tries to regain his breath.

When he pulls away I open my eyes to find him kneeling between my legs, ready to enter. With one hand around his member and the other gripping my waist firmly, he pressed his tip right up against me.

“Fuck” I hiss, my teeth biting down so hard on my bottom lip I’m sure that I’m going to give myself a bruise. As he enters, my breath hitches as I move around his size. Both of our breaths hitch, as he moves inside of me slowly until he has filled me up completely. I hear him cuss under his breath as my tight walls clench around him. Hovering over me, he begins to thrust, stroking his hips with the same rhythm and pace he used with his tongue. My hands immediately grab at his back, desperate for something to cling onto to prevent myself from finishing on the spot.

He gets faster, picking up the pace with each thrust. Each one harder than the next. He busies his mouth, biting at my neck and shoulder, leaving a trail of marks all over my skin. His hips grind, reaching places inside of me that I have never felt before. I can’t even control myself from moaning so loudly that I’m sure the neighbours are getting an ear full.

Just when I think that my body is feeling electric enough, Charlie reaches down towards my heat. My back arches violently as he begins rubbing me.

“Charlie” I whimper, followed by a stream of curse words that are barely coherent. His lips meet with mine, as he kisses me deeply. I claw at his back, and I can only imagine the damage that I’m doing, leaving scratch marks all up and down that beautiful body. As we kiss, I bite down on his lip. Something about this sends him wild, and he moans against my lips. His breathing becomes faster, heavier as do his thrusts. His hand rubs me so harshly that if I wasn’t in so much pleasure I would be in pain.

Unable to hold our kiss anymore my head falls back, my mouth gaping wide open as the pit in my stomach grows larger and larger. In that moment, everything comes together, it’s all so much that I can’t control myself anymore. His hand on my heat, his member inside me hitting that one spot that drives me insane. I feel myself tighten up, my entire body clenching as I reach my high. All I can do is scream, holding onto him so tightly I would be surprised if I hadn’t drawn blood. Almost simultaneously I hear him reach his climax, as his thrusts begin to grow sloppier, his hips bucking into me desperately. His heavy panting pauses for a brief moment, right before he releases, before it is replaces with a mixture of moans and curse words.

My whole body is pounding. My head, my heart, my heat. All of them throbbing and aching with so much euphoria that it hurts.

Both of us are silent as we come down of our highs, the only sound filling the room is our heavy breathing as we try to pull ourselves together. Still inside of me, his head is resting on my shoulder, and I feel him place tiny kisses along my collar bone. We kiss, lazy and gentle as we both come back to our surroundings and ride out the high. Finally feeling some what coherent and back to planet earth, both of our eyes meet as we gaze at each other, possibly in shock as to what just happened. Completely baffled and shocked, we both start to chuckle, unable to control ourselves. We’ve got so much adrenaline coursing through our veins right now we’re basically delirious.

“Holy shit” I breathe, only causing him to laugh even more. Realising I’m still holding onto his back, I loosen my grip “Did I hurt you?”

“Who fucking cares” He shakes his head with a smirk, giving me a quick peck.

With that we both burst into laughter, and he rolls of me, joining me on his back beside me. Turning to face each other, we just gaze and swim in each others eyes. Possibly both in disbelief at what just happened. How electric everything feels between us. I know I am. He reaches out to me, pulling my closer to him until our noses are brushing.

“You’re so beautiful” he says in barely even a whisper, words for just me to know. I close my eyes as he kisses my face, leaving little pecks all across my cheeks and nose.

“Will you stay, tomorrow” I blurt out suddenly, then back track, trying to figure out what just came over me “I just don’t want you to think you have to run off, you don’t have to”

He stares at me for a moment before a grin grows across his face “I want to”.

ONE MONTH LATER

“Okay I’ve got to run,” Charlie jogs over to me, leaning down to peck my lips before he rushes out the front door for work. I smile after him as he leaves. I miss him when he’s gone, even though we’ve only been together for a month.

You see he did stay. Charlie stayed that night and he was there the next morning. And then… he stayed every day after that. And I don’t want him to leave. Something happened between Charlie and I, something deeper. We have a connection that surprised even the both of us. When he looks at me, it’s like he see’s right through to the heart of me. Like he gets me. And I get him. He is brilliant. Warm. Kind. Selfless. He looks at me like I hung the stars in the sky.

I had told Tommy first. Nervously, of course. Who then went with me when I told Polly. Polly was ecstatic. I hadn’t’t expected her to be. No. I had thought maybe she was disappointed that I wasn’t with her son. But she had wrapped me up in her arms, held me tight, and told me she just wanted me to be happy. No matter who that was with. Tommy had said he knew something was different. That I looked different. Acted different. Polly had told him that thats what happens when someone loves you. You see the whole world differently.

When Michael had found out, it just in some passing conversation at Dinner with the Shelby’s after a long work day. I had tried desperately to keep it from him. And part of me desperately wanted to rub it in his goddamn face. But I couldn’t. Gina was there, when Michael found out that I had moved on. And I watched him squirm, his skin crawling as he had to hide and swallow his rage and jealousy. I remember the way the grip on his glass tightened as he skulled his drink. Gina, however, couldn’t have looked more thrilled. If I’m taken, that that means she can take me off her radar. She doesn’t have to constantly worry about Michael and I anymore. She had congratulated me. Actually, it was the nicest and happiest I’ve ever seen her.  

Realising the time I rush to get ready for my own day. Charlie and I had slept in this morning, complaining about how it was to cold to move, and we should just stay in bed forever. I also try to push the fact out of my mind that today Michael and I have to go on a work trip together for a few hours. Since Michael found out about Charlie and I, he has barely looked at me. In fact I think in one whole month the only words we’ve muttered to each other are ‘yes’, ‘no’, ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’.

When I burst into the office, about 10 minutes late, Michael is waiting with a briefcase in hand, ready to go.

“Sorry, I’m late” I apologise as he walks out past me, heading to the car. Good morning to you to.

Rolling my eyes I gather the paperwork I need in a fluster before heading out after him.

The car ride is practically silent as he drives, and I can’t help but notice how tightly his knuckles are gripped on the steering wheel. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to have any grand conversations. Since Charlie has been in my life, I have realised how goddamn blind I was being, letting Michael string me along and dictate my every emotion. But we can’t live like this.

“Cold these days” I say in a poor attempt at small talk. I know Michael well. And I know he hates small talk. So do I. When we were together we used make eyes at each other in mutual understanding and irritation when someone was trying to make small talk. Now, we are those people.

“Sure is” He nods as he stares straight ahead, not taking his eyes off the road.

I kick myself, feeling stupid for even bothering. Why on earth do you even give this guy the time of day. Why do you even try? He’s the one who should be trying.

The next 3 hours are painfully long and slow, as we go from meeting to meeting with business partners, discussing deals, partnerships and money. We only speak to one another when absolutely necessary, and try to put on our best  act, pretending like there’s no troubles in paradise. We would be absolute fools if we let this ruin a business deal. Michael knows it too.

But the meetings only last for so long, and then we’re back in the car for another hour long drive home. Since Michael returned there have been some horrible, awkward silences. But this one is by far the worst. It’s stifling. Heavy. Thick. It’s palpable. You could cut the tension with a knife and then hold it in your hands.

The relief of driving back into our town and knowing in a few minutes I will be out of this goddamn car and on my way home is overwhelming, and I’m half tempted to jump out and walk the rest of the way home.

When we pull up, I expect some chatter about how the day went. Maybe a ‘good work’ or something. Anything. But instead, he turns of the engine, gathers his briefcase and gets out without even so much as a glance in my direction. I’m not sure what comes over me. Because I shouldn’t care. I adore Charlie. He is the god send that I never knew I needed. But Michael is acting just as bratty as sulky as his lovely wife Gina.

I shove my car door open, calling his name as I chase after him. I shouldn’t do this. I should just let him be bitter and jealous and angry. He made his bed he can’t lay in it, right? He pauses in his tracks, turning back to me reluctancy.

“We can’t do this anymore” I stress to him, and he hangs his head momentarily before looking back up at me.

“We are never going to be on good terms… Okay. But whatever you’re doing, it’s fucking ridiculous. If you have something to say to me Michael, then just say it!”

His eyes are wide, panic setting in as I call him out. He can’t hide from this anymore. But I’m not finished yet. It’s like I turned on a tap that has been jammed for years, and now all my words won’t stop flowing out like gushing water.

“Is it Charlie? Is it the fact that I have moved on? Because you left me, Michael. You left me for another woman. So I am sorry for trying to put myself first. I gave you so much time to speak up and you never did Michael. So I’m sorry if you can’t stand to see me with another man, but I can’t wait for someone who doesn’t even love me anymore. Okay. I’m sorry”

My words cut him like a knife as I watch his stomach drop. Breathing heavily after finally saying some things that maybe should have been left unsaid, we both stand in the street staring at each other.

He fiddles with his brief case for a moment, before shaking his head “You’re not the one who was anything to be sorry for”

His words are still sinking in as he turns away and walks back to the office, leaving me completely dumb founded in the street.

A stream of swear words race across my mind and I have to fight to not let them fly out of my mouth. He can’t do this. He can’t do this to me. I am so tired of this. His cryptic words. And I have a feeling I just made everything worse. Why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut. Let him be silent if he wanted to. Sighing, I hold my papers tight to my chest. I don’t even bother going into the office. I turn and take myself straight home.

I count my lucky stars that when I return home, I’m met with Charlie’s open arms. I melt into them, and he holds me a little tighter when he notices that something isn’t right.

“You alright?” He asks as he squeezes me even tighter.

He doesn’t know about Michael. I never told him. I wanted it to be a fresh start with Charlie. And I didn’t want him to feel intimidated knowing that I work with Michael still.

“Just a long day”

I’m not technically lying. Today felt like the hours stretched out into weeks. It was torture. He know’s I’m not telling the full story, but he doesn’t push. He just holds me, kissing my forehead. We cook dinner together, laughing and swaying to the radio as we do. Everything from the day just floats away. He doesn’t even realise what he does for me. Weeks ago, Michael would have been my every thought. What happened between us today would have consumed me. Left me a nervous wreck.

Charlie brings me out of that. Brings me out of my head, out of the past, and into the present. I don’t know where he came from or who sent him to me. But every day I feel like Michael moves further out of my mind, as Charlie takes up more of the spaces. He comes in and fills up all the emptiness and patches up all of the damage.

I watch him with a beaming smile as he paces around the kitchen, cooking our dinner.

Am I in love with Charlie? I don’t know. But all I know is that I thought I would be stuck on Michael forever. Caught up in this cycle of whether he will come around or not. But now, just maybe, I’m starting to break away from that.

TAGLIST 

@shadow-of-wonder

@marvelismylifffe​

@saintd0lce

@haphazardhufflepuff​

@peaky-things​

@burnitup​

@swweett-insanityyy​

@ganjeolhiddaeng​

@thoughtfulfreakalpaca​

@infinitelycharmed23​

@chloeforde​

@ashtronomyyyy​

@livingforbarnes​

@cleverdreamerhoagiewolf​

@elleclairez​

@marvelschriss​

@carezzesuigraffi

@l0tsofpennies

@siliethkaijuy

@ineedabifriend

@bloodorangemoonlight

@maiabiovillage

@yoheyyosup

@hinagiku0​

@beth-winchester21​

@locokoca​

@itsbqueenthings​

@baker151910​

@cherrytop02

[scenarihoes]

it looks like your requests are still open, so I’m comin in hot wiiiith some spicy nonsense: how do you feel about a shinsou x reader nsfw scenario? shinsou’s got dirty-talking dom vibes to me and i’m weak 😩💦 if there happens to be orgasm denial/edging and/or overstimulation involved i would love you forever, just so you know 😉😏💜

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOF

HUUUUGE AUTHORS NOTE! PLEASE READ!

ok so. only bout half this fic is finished LOL i really really really wanted to finish all of it, but i really just couldnt bring myself to.. it’s like, done? but not entirely polished yknow? that being said please excuse typos and grammar issues in the second half.. again, im really sorry!

please enjoy what i have regardless! i promise its still, how do i say,

hot.

—————

Hour One.

With narrowed eyes and lips pressed into a tight line, irritation makes it hard for Shinsou to shove the key into the lock properly. He’s glaring at you from the corners of his vision, taking in your smug posture and the corners of your lips upturned mischievously. It’s just barely past 10 pm and he can already feel the draw pulling him in with every step you take despite his annoyances.

“I can’t believe you sometimes,” he says dully, hanging his coat on the rack while the door clicks shut. His fingers work his tie off his neck. “I should have known something like this would happen.”

You hum, bemused. “I’m afraid I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Really? You were practically eye-fucking me the whole night in front of everyone.”

“It’s not like they were watching me. All eyes were on you.”

“Exactly.” Shinsou grunts as he slips his shoes off and nudges them on the mat with his toes. “You wear my brain out, acting like that just for a reaction.”

You bring a hand on to your mouth, a fake gasp sounding. “Why I would never!”

Choosing the perfect moment, you bend down and contort yourself just right to bare your thong for him. Your short dress offers a spectacular view, along with your V neck that cuts just a little bit too low. He knew you’d pick that one, he really did. It always got him a little hot under the collar and you took every chance you could to exploit that little fact.

Before you can even start to pull your heels off, bend over with one hand pressed against the door while the other words at the straps, you feel palms suddenly on either side of your hips. Instantly you’re grinning ear to ear.

“You’re always doing things like this to me in public,” he speaks like it doesn’t matter to him, but it does. He’s so bothered and it’s exactly what you wanted. “Making me work just to keep a straight face. You’re lucky I didn’t drag you into the bathroom and make you walk back out full of my cum.”

“You would have liked that, wouldn’t you have?” Dangerous, devious, you press both hands flat to the wall and rut yourself against him. When he responds equally as lustful, you can’t help but snicker at him. “I thought you said you were tired.”

“I said you wear my brain out, not that I was tired. Besides, do you honestly believe you deserve to just get a pass for tonight?”

Already Shinsou’s half hard against you, tenting in his formal pants. The grip on your waist tightens and while usually this would be the moment he pulls away with irritated grunt, he holds fast. He lets himself grind against you in such a easy, languid pace. Your breath catches in your throat when one of this hands wanders away and finds itself grasping your forearm. Without much time to brace yourself your hand is yanked from the wall and brought behind your back, then your other arm follows suite. He nudges your chest to the wall and clicks his tongue when you giggle.

“Don’t you think you’re enjoying this a little too much?” He taunts.

“I would enjoy it a whole lot more if you started actually touching me.”

Suddenly you’re shoved forward, cheek hitting the wall. He holds your arms taut behind your back. “What did I say about getting off easy?” He damn near growls. “During the downtime between your little stunts I had a lot of time to think about what I planned doing to you once we got home.”

“You fantasized about me while conversing with your friends? Now, what would they do if they found out everyone's favorite hero had such a dirty mind?”

His hand leaves your waist and a sharp smack is delivered to your ass. You hiss between your teeth as he brings his lips close to your ear. “Probably the same thoughts they’d have should they find out said hero’s wife is such a cock-hungry slut.”

Shinsou can feel a shiver rippling through you while his teeth clip and graze the skin of your neck, one hand strong enough to hold both your arms tucked behind your back while other starts to explore further. His broad palm hovers only an inch above your skin and he makes sure you’re aware of the way he just barely misses your breasts. Only when you try to arch into his palms does he pull away and instead find his hand catching your throat.

“You’re awfully impatient. You’ve had the whole night to prepare for this and you’re already rushing?”

“I haven’t been preparing anything. I’ve been waiting. I’ve had to wait the whole night for this,” Over your shoulder, you glance at him deviously. “Waited the whole night just for you fuck me. You should consider yourself lucky.”

Shinsou’s eyebrows raise like he can’t actually believe what you’re saying. It only takes a moment of processing before the lights of his eyes darken, his grip tightening, and you nearly wheeze at his thumb and index alone cutting your breath off. “I’m lucky?”

Despite your position you still giggle. “I could have done so much worse.”

Something in him shakes, and then ruptures. It’s nothing in anger, or disdain, but it’s not soft either. He nearly let’s a growl leave him but for the sake of control, he withholds it.

“Worse?” Your body is pushed forward and held even tighter to the wall. “Believe me, I’m going to show you worse.”

————-

Hour two.

Funny how quickly everything can change in the blink of an eye. Seed to flower, sun to rain, spring to winter.

Deviosity to utter and entire frustration. Neediness, too. Neediness above all else. 

Your back would press flat to to his chest if not for the way you fervently arch away from him. Lips on your neck to suck dark marks into your skin, one hand eagerly fondling the mounds of your breast while the other makes sure to pay close attention in making sure the vibrating wand is pressed nice and tightly to your clit. Squirming is futile with the unrelenting vibrations- he’s got you stuck fast in your place. From the moment you were trapped against the wall by the frame of him, a promise to take you apart slipping from his lips, you were silently begging for something more than just the feeling of his clothed cock pressed between your legs. 

Even with the rush, he was sure that every step he made guiding you to the bedroom was calculated. The dress was gone long ago and abandoned onto the floor like it hadn’t cost you almost half a grand. Your heels followed suit but you didn’t mind that loss- they were starting to hurt your feet, after all. Your unsurprising lack of undergarments drove him insane but the man was able to hold back his ferocious need to destroy you right there. 

He even approached it with humor. From the closet he retrieved a pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs you’d bought as a joke. You watch in both anticipation as well as disbelief when he approached, ordered you to put your hands behind your back. Of course you obliged without too much tenacity.  Make me, you wanted to tell him with a snarky grin, but the gleam in his eyes warns you that he just may. With ease he clips your arms behind your back, but the metal isn’t slapped around your wrists. He connects the cuffs on your upper arms and lets the fur sit snug, high enough on your forearms so that your chest is beautifully pushed outwards. 

“Since you’re so eager to show all this off,” he’d remarked as he climbed behind you, kept you on your knees and used his own to ensure your legs were spread. “Then you shouldn’t have a problem with this.”

The moment he brought a vibrator and pressed it between your legs, you knew you were finished. He himself knew it all, could count in his head how long it would take before you met your resolve and melted into a puddle of need in his hands. As he looks at you, nudges the vibrator just a little higher up so you buck your hips with a whine, he congratulates himself. It makes him laugh, unbeknownst to you.

An entire evening of being patted on the back for his latest success and this was his crowning moment. 

“Feel good?” He coos in a facade of sweetness. He kisses trails up and down the sides of your throat, eyes shut serenely. You whimper in his hold and a sickening grin plays on his lips, only to grow with every rattle of the cuffs. The sound reaches him like an upcoming victory, reminds him that you’re at his mercy all over again. How can he not get drunk off the feeling?

How can he not nibble your skin and roll the head of the toy against your clit just to make you gasp so cutely? You’re already shaking and it spurs him on even further, then suddenly he rolls the vibrator once more and your voice jumps an octave as it presses against your nerves at just the right spot. He holds it there, let’s you thrash and squirm as it almost becomes too much even before it’s entirely begun. You’ve yet to come even once, let alone feel the rapture he’s planning to bestow upon you. 

“Fuck, Hitoshi-” Your head tips back. “Fuck-”

This is his favorite part. He waits like a predator, listens to the ruggedness of your breathing, watches your hands curl into tight, useless fists. You’re already close and it makes his skin buzz as his plans start to unravel right there on the bed. Your back arches, you thrash, he waits for you to tense and then it’s gone. He tears the toy away from your rolling hips before you can reach that perfect high. 

Your reaction is feral and it lights him aflame. Aggravation and desperation looks so much better on you than any whorish dress you could ever even hope to taunt him with. 

Hands fisting and unfisting, trapped between your bodies, all you can do is curse his name while your release begrudgingly climbs back down. Shinsou laughs like a sadist and shifts demeanors as though he’s a damn actor on broadway- one moment someone and the next a different person entirely. The laughter dies into soft hums, his grin snuffs into a gentle smile and he kisses the hickies on your neck and below your ear.

Soft voice, tongue lapping at your skin. “Were you close?”

All you can do is groan in response, bothered at the loss of your orgasm. He tsks, reaches up and grips a hand to your throat. Someone else, now. 

“You should have expected this.”

“God, please, I was right there.” Your voice shakes and it only excites him. It makes him want to push you even further, but it’s all reruns. He’s taken you apart time and time again to the point where he’s turned you into the defination of the word mess, but damn if it isn’t fun to pretend it’s all shiny and new. 

“That’s the point.” He doesn’t want you to come down too far, so he turns vibrator down to the lowest setting and offers you just the softest of pleasure. You take it like a luxury, grinding down against feeling instantly to your heart's content. With the low setting, it’s nowhere near enough stimulation to get you off but fuck if you won’t try your hardest to get there anyways. Like a challenge, Shinsou welcomes it, grins against your skin and keeps his palm to your neck while you roll your hips. 

When you find that you really can’t meet your end, he eats up the frustrated whine you offer. 

Your begging comes as natural as day to night. It’s not babbles, you haven’t been pushed far enough. He snickers to himself. Yet.

“Hitoshi,” You whine, sweet and submissive. “Please let me cum.”

“Oh?” He breathes against your shoulder. “Maybe I will, just to watch you cry for me.” He throws you a line with evil intentions. “Tell me, are you sorry for what you’ve done?”

“Yes,” The depth of your voice let’s him know that you think this is all there is. An apology, an empty promise. “I’m sorry baby, please let me cum, I won’t do it again. I want to cum so bad…”

Hook, line, and sinker. 

Shinsou laughs.

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

———-

hour three.

it’s amazing just how much self control he’s gained over the years. had he been just a bit younger, he would have pounced the moment he pressed your body to the mattress and let the blankets fall in heaps around the edge. but, he’s glad he’s older now. glad he’s learned to really stop and smell the roses.

glad he’s learned to hold back just to take the back seat view as you practically fall apart in front of him.

with your face buried in your pillow, some of your pretty keens are slightly muffled, which is mildly disappointing. shinsou can deal with it, though. after all he’s much more interested in the way you’re still trying to chase your long since held off orgasm.

he’s still behind you but his demeanors had some altercations. he’s centered now, refocused. his hand drags the ever buzzing toy up and down your clit while you feebly try to match the pace with the rocking of your hips. he can’t imagine it’s comfortable with your arms trapped behind your back but hey, you’ve earned that. if anything it just enforces the idea that it’s exactly what it always was: punishment.

‘look at you, you’re a mess.’ he hums like he’s bored. ‘running your mouth about how my friends would feel if they found i was dirty minded, look at yourself.’

‘please-‘

‘don’t bother. you’ll cum when i say you can cum. until then, be good.’ he holds the toy straight to your clit and clicks it up a notch, tilts his head, watches when your hands curl into fists and your hips jerk. ‘think you can do that for me, hm? be good?’

you nod frantically and shake like a leaf. ‘y-yes si- fuck! yes sir!’

sir. it sounds nice in his head, he smugly leans back, that sadistic energy he started with resonating within him like a returning storm. he chuckles low in his chest and leans back so leisurely you’d nearly miss his erection should you sneak a glance.

he jumps the vibrator up to the highest sitting and he can’t hold back a grin when you arch and sob, rut your hips and still yourself until you’re finally climbing back up to that incredible edge. he lets you do it, too. he lets you moan and whimper and cry his name until you’re right there all over again. you’re trembling so hard it’s a wonder you don’t bust to pieces right there. your voice leaps higher, higher, you’re right there and pressing your clit flush against the buzzing sensation-

the pitiful scream that tears from your throat when he turns the toy off almost makes him feel bad.

almost.

tears spring from your eyes and he knows he’s finally won. you don’t even bother begging him at that point, face buried and cries muffles in the damp fabric of your pillow. it pulls at his heart in a strange way, but not enough for him to give in. not that easily. he just needs some assurance, a little confirmation that you’re his good girl and that you’ve learned your damn lesson.

he comforts you, pets his hands down the sweating curve of your spine and back up. you’re writhing in absolute need, aching for a release he’s been denying you for the better half of three hours. a deep, pensive sigh leaves him.

‘look at me,’ he says, and you do so without question. you look pitiful. crazy to think sex could turn you so pathetic before him. he runs his fingers through your hair, lets his eyes fall half lidded. ‘are you sorry?’

a hiccup leaves you as you nod. he nods as well.

‘and you’ve learned your lesson?’

‘yes sir.’ even through your choked sobs, you manage a steady voice long enough to answer him. it impresses him, brings a swell to his chest.

———-

hour four.

very gingerly, he nudges the toy against your clit and turns it on the lowest setting. you’re so over sensitive that you hiss through your teeth, eyes slipping shut, hips instantly rocking back against the familiar feeling. shinsou wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t trust him to let you follow through his time.

‘you wanna cum?’ he murmurs, and you nod, still trying to catch your breath while the intensity is low enough.

ah, what the hell.

he flicks it’s to the middle setting and sits back to watch you gasp and start to shake all over again. he torments you with that low vibration, lets you pretend to fuck yourself on the toy, rocking back and forth and stilling as it finds the perfect nerves to harass.

though it’s not the intensity you’d been begging for, he can see that it’s enough for you. your whimpers, curling toes and fingers, stuttering hips and twitching knees. you approach your end as quickly as it fell moments ago, but this time, shinsou doesn’t back down.

he lets you find the rise and the peak, and finally, finally the fall. god, how you crash around him. sputtered and broken moans spill from your throat like prayers, his name joining the mix in a beautiful chorus as you arch your back and rut your hips in tiny circles. you’re trembling but you’re still, the toy buzzing against your clit while your nerves travel in shivering waves of pleasure through the course of your body.

you’re babbling something through your ogasm as you ride it out, and only when he stops to listen does he really grasp what you’re subconsciously saying.

‘thank you sir, thank you, thank you, oh f-fuck, nggh- thank you,-‘

still rocking to ride the last of the euphoria out, shinsou feels pity in his chest when he gets the perfect idea. that same feeling when you’d first started to cry before him rises like a monument within him, but it’s not enough to deter his intentions.

you’ve still got a lesson to learn, after all. a little bit of tears was no promise.

as the last of your pleasure ebbs away, he remains where he is. he gets to watch like a spectator as your writhes of pleasure alternate and transform into a struggle to get away, hips cantering forward to escape the toy still remains ever pressed to your clit.

‘please- i can’t-!’ you gasp through your struggles to escape the pleasure, but he works you even deeper, works you ever harder. he jumps the intensity to high and holds your hips with his free hand just to keep you still while he presses it exactly where you can feel it the most. there’s nothing you can do but take it, the mind numbing pleasure, all too much as you’re forced to the edge all over again.

‘you can.’ he states as he watches. you arch and cry out through whimpered gasps, eyes squeezed shut, body tensed and stiff, you’re pushed into another orgasm before you even realize it. sharp keens make him wonder if you’re in pain, metaphorical stars dancing behind your eyelids. he pets you again as if he’s not the source of your agonizing pleasure.

‘no more, no more,’ you try to roll on your side to deter the feeling but shinsous got you in such a tight grasp that you can’t even rock your hips anymore. while your upper half is free to struggle in vain, your lower half is at his mercy. he makes sure you’re feeling it all as he lowers it to medium, only to jump it back to high when you’re finally able to start coming down.

———

hour four.

once more an onslaught of tears leak down your cheeks as incorrect please leave you. you cum again, and again, and again while he keeps his grip tight on your waist. everything feels like its too much, you’re shaking too much, feeling too much-

you cum again and something about the way you openly sob into the pillow makes him consider the simple concept of mercy. you’re so spent he knows you’re going to be sexed-out for the rest of the week, which in some ways, sucks, but this is too good to miss out on. the entire night had been perfect from the moment you boldly decided to tease him in plain sight to the instant you were beneath him torn apart by his very hands.

a deep breaths leaves him. you’ve learned your lesson.

‘good girl,’ he says, but he isn’t sure if you can hear him. he lowers the setting to medium, and then low, let’s you rut off the last of your final orgasm before he grants you the bliss of turning it off entirely. the very second you find yourself offered mercy, you turn to putty.

no energy, no drive, nothing left as you tip over onto your side and shake with the aftershocks. your arm tucks itself beneath you uncomfortably but your mind is elsewhere. given that it’s his fault, after all, shinsou decides it’s finally time to take care of you. he scoops you up into his arm and sighs deep into your hair, shuts his eyes and presses the latch on the cuffs that let you go free both metaphorically and physically. you don't even have the energy to wrap your arms around his shoulders. had there not been a lesson to be learned, he would have felt bad for pushing you so far overboard.

but this had been a lesson, so he doesn’t.

as he kisses the top of your head, he coos, ‘good girl.’ you pant and shake in his arms. ‘you were so good for me. are you okay?’

you can't speak, but you can nod, and so you do. slowly, languid in your exhaustion, you nod with shut eyes. shinsou smiles and breathes a laugh of relief, even though he knew you would be anyways.

his erection pressed against your back but he can’t bring himself to subject you to anything further. he very well could, gently fuck you and have you cum for him just one more time, but he decides against it. you’re beyond tired, and he can wait. what you need is a bath and 12 hours of good, deep, rest.

you’re still thankfully coherent as he gets up and carries you with him, bringing you to the bathroom connected to the bedroom. he sets you in the hardness of the tub and crawls in behind you, runs his hand through your hair and kisses the dark hickies he’s painted onto the canvas of your throat while he makes the water run.

he coos your name, and you make some noise of acknowledgement.

‘i love you.’ he murmurs, and if humans could purr, you would have done so. he smiled against your skin and whispers it again, three times, four and then he lets the hot water lull you to sleep.

the bath is warm against his skin, and he kisses the top of your head once more. 

the perfect night. 

[namjuicyy]

The Contract - Chapter Eight

Masterlist | Requests are open.

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut.

Genre of this part: Angst, lots of smut and fluff.

Word Count: 3.1k.

Summary: Your life is turned upside down when a contract is pushed your way. But what happens if you sign it?

Warnings: Dom!Reader, Sub!Jungkook, virgin!Jungkook, oral sex (m receiving), light spanking, dirty talk, begging, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, virginity taking, cockwarming, a stupid amount of fluff.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" Jungkook screamed. He was trying to cover up what little dignity he had left, his face blushing beet red with unbridled embarrassment upon being caught.

"Oh, God! I'm so sorry!"

"What's the matter with you!? Stop looking! Get out!"

You did as you were ordered but left the door ajar. "I'm so sorry! Jungkook, I'm so sorry!"

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking!? What the fuck, ___?"

"I'm so, so-"

"Sorry, yeah I get it." He was clearly pissed off. His voice dropped from booming to tiny. "I get it."

"Kookie?"

"What?"

"Can I come in?"

Silence. "Yeah."

When you opened the door again, you saw Jungkook sat on his bed, sweatpants on, shirt off and eyes towards the floor, thumbs twiddling. You closed the door and moved silently towards Jungkook's bed, sitting down beside him. "I'm really sorry." You said softly.

"I know."

"Please talk to me."

"What's there to say?"

"Why you were using it for a start." Jungkook shook his head. "Was it to do with the video?" He nodded. "Talk me through it."

"I enjoyed the video," he confessed quietly, "and I wasn't mad that Hyung sent it. Not at all. Afterwards, when it was over... I started thinking and... I-I'm a virgin, ___, and I have no idea how I'd even get you to scream like Hyung was making you. Not to mention my size."

"Your size?"

"I'm not as big as Hyung. Or anyone. I... I'm pretty useless when it comes to that. I mean, it wouldn't be so bad if I was bigger and a virgin because then you could use me and still enjoy it. But you can't even do that and... I can't bear the thought of disappointing you."

"Oh, Kookie." You leant forward and wrapped your arms around him, rocking him gently. He sat there silently, feeling your embrace, letting you comfort him. "You could never disappoint me. And judging by what I saw, you aren't small at all. Quite the opposite."

"Please, you're just saying that because you're contracted to."

No. No, Jungkook. Stop this.

You got on your knees in front of him and put your hands on his thighs, nestling in between his open legs. You forced him to look at you. "No, Jungkook. I'm saying this because I love you."

The look on Jungkook's face changed. He went from sadness and disappointment to hope. But there was a slight bit of apprehension in there, too. You grabbed hold of one of his hands and brought it to your lips, kissing him softly. You needed him to know that you meant what you were saying. You did love him – the same way he loved you. You loved waking up beside him, holding him in your arms and feeling his strong grasp protect you. You loved his puffy face, his morning breath, his need to always have his hands on you, or his arms around you. You loved all of them just the same, and it was about time you let them know that, starting with Jungkook.

You let your kisses travel up his body – his shoulder, his cheek, until finally you reached his lips, giving him a soft kiss that he eventually deepened. His large hand, the one that you'd let go of in order to grab onto his shoulders, moved up to your neck, allowing him to pull you closer to him. "I love you." He said in between kisses. "So much." His tongue asked for entrance to your mouth and you granted it, allowing yourself to be lost in his kisses. He was so good. So breath taking.

"___?" You moaned in response. "Please take it."

You pulled away a little bit. "Take what?" You had a slight inkling as to what he was going to ask, but you didn't want to assume. You couldn't assume when something as big as this was about to be asked of you.

He tried to kiss you but you moved away. "Please don't make me say it." He whined. "It's really cringy."

"Jungkookie, I'm not doing anything with you until you use your words like a good little boy, understand?" Jungkook was taken aback by your sudden change in character, this dominant side he'd never seen before was... quite honestly, sending shivers down his spine and blood rushing to a place he'd tried to hide from you. "What do you want?"

He swallowed, trying to prolong the inevitable. He didn't want to say it. It was too embarrassing for him to say it. But he had no other choice, he had to have you. It had to be you. "T-take my virginity."

You pulled his hair. "Where are your manners?"

"Please."

"Good boy."

You allowed him to kiss you again, a frantic kiss, one where he tried to drag you back onto him. But you refused. Instead you trailed little kisses down his bare torso and towards his v line. The part of his body you drooled over the most. You pulled at the waistband of his trousers, tugging them off him and finally seeing his cock for the first time. It was beautiful. He wasn't as big as Namjoon, or as thick as Taehyung. He was a little above average, like Yoongi and Jimin, except he had a little more girth to him. Jaw-aching girth that you needed to feel in your mouth. You had to...

"Oh, fuck!" He exclaimed. Your mouth wrapped around his cock and began sucking immediately, too wound up for teasing him. And though it came as a shock, the moan he let out was loud and telling. The ferociousness of your actions had him keening for you, teetering on the edge of begging for you to give it to him as hard as you wanted. Immediately he was purely submissive, and you loved it.

His hand flew to your hair, gripping your head simply because he couldn't control himself. Yours was the first mouth he'd ever felt. He didn't know what to expect. He knew it was going to feel good but, fuck, not as good as this. "Oh. God. Fuck. ___. Shit!"

He pushed your head down further, not fully realising what he was doing, so you pulled away. You spanked his thigh, not hard enough to truly hurt him but enough to shock him. "Sit on your hands." You ordered.

"What?"

"Sit on them."

He did as he was told. "Touch me again and I'll make sure you can't use them, understood?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes, Miss." You corrected.

"Yes, Miss."

You continued to suck him like you had been, like you were trying to suck the soul out of him. The sounds he was making made it difficult for you to stay down there and not climb up to fuck him senseless. When you began to play with his balls as you hollowed your cheeks, he growled. A light, little animalistic growl that was followed by a high pitched moan. He was having a real tough time controlling himself, and a small part of you thought you should go a little easier on him. But you could hear how much he was enjoying this, and you needed to blow his mind. You needed him to not regret waiting until he was an adult before fucking someone. You needed him to not regret choosing you.

You took your mouth off of him, much to his dismay, and wrapped your hand around his length, pumping him harshly as he growled and whined for you. "You gonna cum?"

"Yeah."

"You gonna cum for me, baby boy?"

"Fuck, yeah, Miss."

"Beg me."

"What?"

"I said," you stopped moving, "beg me."

"Oh, fuck, Miss. Please, Miss. Let me cum. I'll be a good boy for you, I swear. I'll make you cum however you want me to. I'll be your bestest boy, please, Miss. Please let me cum. I need to cum so much."

Begging like he was made for it – like it came naturally for him.

You stood up and kissed him, before pulling away. You started to strip for him slowly, finally choosing now to tease him. You dangled yourself in front of him like a chew toy to a dog, yet he sat there, completely naked now, staring at you with wide, awe-filled eyes and his cock resting on his abs. His eyes immediately travelled down to your naked pussy when you exposed it to him, his mouth watering at the glistening liquid in front of him. He was so close to tasting you. He was desperate to taste you.

You walked forward and pushed him back onto the bed, straddling him, grinding your clit along his length. "I d-don't have... shit... any c-condoms." Jungkook informed you.

"We don't need any if you don't want them."

"What?"

"I'm on birth control aren't I?"

Jungkook beamed. "I think that's the sexiest thing you've ever said."

Great, Jungkook, what a way to break you out of domspace. "Shut up."

Jungkook started whimpering again, his concentration focussing on the feeling of you clit rubbing against his cock still. He wanted to touch you, you saw him move his arms from underneath him and try to touch you, but he remembered your orders. His eyes were glued to where you met, watching as you lifted yourself up and positioned him to sink back down. He bit his bottom lip in anticipation. His heart was pounding. He was so nervous, but so ready to feel himself inside of you.

You lowered yourself down feeling his thickness stretch your wet walls. All the while you refused to take your eyes off Jungkook's face, watching as he experienced you for the first time. He lost any control he had when he felt himself enter you. He shut his eyes tight, threw his head back onto the bed, gripped hold of your thighs and let the loudest moan escape from his mouth.

"Oh, fuck!" He exclaimed. He started to babble random shit, getting louder the further down you sank. He groaned every time you sank back down on him, and rode him, using his firm chest as leverage helping you keep up a rhythm that was getting faster and faster gradually. By the time you were slamming yourself down onto him, keeping a speedy pace, he was already sweating and whimpering. His breath had left him, despite his excellent physique, and his fingers were sure to leave bruises on your skin.

"Jungkook," you moaned his name loudly, purposefully, just to see what his reaction would be. Of course, it was amazing. He bucked his hips at the sound, hitting a spot inside of you that made you scream almost as loud as Taehyung was making you scream a few days ago. "You're so big."

He stuttered your name. "S-stop that. I'm g-gonna – oh shit – gonna cum if you do. Oh, God, you feel so good. Don't stop. Please don't stop. Fuck."

His moans were constant and were such a turn on. Jungkook was normally a pretty quiet man, but while you were fucking him all he could do is beg and plead with you, and groan while tried to destroy him. Whimpering every now and then, especially after he growled when you hit a particularly good spot for him.

"Jungkook, fuck me."

He opened his eyes, a little bit of fear in them. "What?" He asked while he still felt you rock on him.

"Fuck up into me, baby. I need to cum."

You reached down and started to play with your clit in front of him, the final step in letting out his animalistic side. Instantly he complied, any worries or concern falling out of his mind as he began to pound into you, growling as he watched you play with yourself and use your body for his own pleasure as you used his. He couldn't think of anything else than how good you were making him feel. He couldn't smell anything else other than the sex that was in the air. He was completely and utterly consumed by you, mesmerised as he watch you cum, shivering as he kept fucking you at the same pace. He didn't know to slow down, and you were too wrapped up in your orgasm to tell him. So he continued to pound into you from underneath, chasing his own high as you shook above him. You fell onto his chest as he continued to use you.

"Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum."

You looked up at him, chin resting on his chest. "Cum for me, baby boy." You ordered him quietly. "I want to feel your cum inside me. You've been such a good boy. Cum for me."

He tensed, his veins becoming prominent as he worked himself up to an orgasm. He fucked into you more roughly, needing to take you as he pleased, making his bed bang against the wall with the sheer force of his thrusts. His moans began to get more high pitched but were muffled by the fact he'd pulled you into a sloppy, tongue and teeth kiss. His hands were in your hair as he kissed you. He was so desperate to cum inside you.

"Oh fuck!" He screamed.

He tensed a little more and began to cum inside you, going silent and still for a short while as the first few spurts landed in your cunt. His moans continued when his mind started to become clear again. He was breathless beneath you, completely spent from just fifteen minutes of fucking. He couldn't stop kissing you – and he didn't want to either.

You tried to move but he wouldn't let you, he kept you on him, cockwarming him as he continued to kiss you sloppily, holding you close to his sweaty body, needing comfort from you after the surge of emotions he just felt.

"Fuck," he said in between kisses, "that was amazing. You're amazing. God. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!"

You laughed at his adorableness, how clingy he was after sex yet how sweet it was. "Baby, you have to let me go."

"Uh-uh." He shook his head like he was a child. "You gotta stay with me. Let me stay inside you please."

"I need a shower, baby boy. I need to clean out your cum."

He groaned at the feel of you getting off him, then growled once more at the sight of you. He could see his cum dripping down your legs. There was so much of it he could hardly believe it.

"I wouldn't shower if I were you." He said.

"Why?"

All he did was point to his cock that was still so incredibly hard, as if nothing had happened.

One thing you learnt about Jungkook that night was that his stamina was phenomenal. He took you three more times that night, in many different positions purely because he could. He had you screaming and exhausted by the time you'd finished. The only reason you had was because it was late at night and Taehyung wanted to sleep. So once you'd both showered, you curled up next to Jungkook in your bed (at Jungkook's pleading) and snuggled up to him, falling asleep almost immediately in the arms of one of the seven men you'd fallen head over heels for.

Jungkook woke up before you, something that rarely happened. In the night, you'd turned over allowing him to hold you face-to-face rather than spooning. Waking up next to you was something he would never get used to, and he didn't want to either. You always said you were at your ugliest first thing in the morning but he couldn't disagree more. You were pure artwork to him at any time of the day or night.

There are no words for him to say that would truly encapsulate how happy he was that you were in his life, and how thankful he was that you were the one who agreed to take his virginity. He would spend the rest of his life trying to make up for it, trying to make sure you knew just how deeply he adored you. He was yours completely, in mind, body, heart and soul. He was willing to give anything and everything up for you, all you had to do was tell him to jump and he'd ask you how high. He was smitten. And there was no going back.

Jungkook rarely cooked, usually because his hyungs were in the kitchen before him and took over before he had the option to. So he thought he'd do something for you. He decided he'd make you breakfast and wake you up with the delicious smells of... well, ramen, but it's the thought the counts right?

He peeled himself from your grip and covered his bare torso in one of the shirts he'd left in your room a while ago.

When he entered the kitchen, he was met with a loud wall of noise, jumping at the sudden sound. All of his hyungs were standing in the kitchen waiting for him, cheering at him as soon as they saw him. Taehyung, Jimin and Hobi ran up to him and started to mess around with him, rubbing his neck, jumping on his back, playfully pushing him.

"Look at him!" Yoongi shouted. "He's practically glowing."

"Jungkookie's not a virgin." Hobi sang.

Jin, "It's about time he finally got some."

Jungkook, "Ah, Hyung!"

Jimin, "Welcome to the club, baby boy." Jimin kissed Jungkook's cheek that was now a bright red with embarrassment.

You trudged out into the kitchen, your oversized t-shirt crumpled around your hips and rubbing your eyes. "What's all this fuss about?"

"Jungkookie's not a virgin anymore!" Taehyung exclaimed. "But then, you already knew that, didn't you?"

You laughed. "You'd be unsurprised to know, the Golden Maknae's also good at fucking."

Jimin, "Alright then. Seeing as you've fucked us all... who's the best?"

All eyes went to you, clearly expecting an answer. You simply poured yourself a cup of coffee and made your way out of the room, before turning round and saying, "I think I'm going to have to fuck you all at least once more before I make that kind of decision. I'll be in my room if anyone wants me."

[aticklishtem]

To Chase the Blues Away

((heyyy, I’m alive, sorta!! A very belated request for @mylittlemystery ^^;; sorry for the wait, darling, I hope you like it!! <3 ))

Some days, being the Devil didn’t seem like as much fun as it used to be.

Sure, he still had the kind of power most folks would sell their souls for at the tips of his claws. He still had an army of loyal, if occasionally incompetent minions to do his bidding – and of course, he still had the casino, drawing in the suckers to empty their coins like moths to a flame, even if they weren’t always bringing in the big bucks like the good old days.

The good old days before those two little finks played him at his own game, and ever since something had shifted. A couple dozen deadbeats getting bailed out may not have made that much difference in the long term – he had a sizeable stash of souls accumulated over the years – but nonetheless, as the contracts burned the Devil felt a little of his power, his control over Inkwell slip away, and it unsettled him more than he cared to admit. The idea of no longer commanding the unquestioned fear and respect he deserved was as horrifying as it was infuriating – he was the goddamned Devil, there wasn’t a soul in the land who could take that away from him – and although he was determined to claw back that control, some days it was all just too much. The slightest thing would niggle on his last nerve, and sometimes one innocuous comment from a casino employee was enough provoke a tirade of abuse. He’d rant and rave and wave his trident to let off steam, until he had the whole room cowering behind their tables. Call the Devil old-fashioned, but sometimes a fella just needed to see the terror in his underlings’ eyes as they grovelled at his feet and begged him to spare their wretched lives.

Other days, though, his emotions proved a tad more troublesome.

The Devil sat in his office, grinding his teeth together as he flicked through a pile of paperwork, searching for a contract – Salt, wasn’t it? It had been years, but he reckoned it was time to call in some old favours – if he could only find the blasted thing. What twit had organised this place? Couldn’t any of these imbeciles he’d magnanimously spared from eternal damnation do anything right?! Letting out a growl, he got up from his desk and started pulling out files, drawers, everything else on the shelves as the frustration boiled in his blood, bubbling closer to erupting the further he seemed from getting anywhere.

As if that wasn’t testing him enough, he also had the imps he’d been foolish enough to let tag along scuttling about under his feet, chasing each other, climbing up the Devil’s chair and onto his shoulders and tugging at his fur while they all chattered at once:

“Booossss, whatcha doin’?”

“Is that a soul? I wanna soul!”

“Is it lunchtime yet? I’m hungryyy…”

“Boss, can we have some chips? I wanna go play –”

“Would you all just shut yer pieholes?!” the Devil finally bellowed, the force of his rage sending out a shockwave of magic that licked flames up the walls and swept everything clean off his desk – including the imps, who tumbled to the floor in a shrieking heap. Four pairs of eyes gazed up at him in stunned silence, wide and fearful, but it didn’t give the Devil the satisfaction he craved. Instead, as the youngest imp blinked, its lower lip starting to wobble, the red-hot rage prickled behind his eyes, and – oh no…

“P-Papa…?”

That pitiful whimper did it: the dam burst, the Devil almost choking on the sudden lump in his throat as he slammed his fists down on his desk. “Enough out of you! Go! Scram!”

He waved a hand to teleport them swiftly back to Hell before they could protest – even though this ridiculous surge of tenderness made him want nothing more than to scoop his boys into a hug and tell them he was sorry, he never meant to hurt them (well, to seriously hurt them), but he couldn’t possibly let them see him break down. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be – he was the Devil, for pete’s sake! He should be able to command anything he wanted, not be at the mercy of his unpredictable emotions like some kind of pathetic mortal. First he gets walloped by a couple of kids, and now it felt like his empire was crumbling around him, and it just...damn it, it wasn’t fair!

The Devil unleashed an anguished wail, the tears finally breaking free as he collapsed back into his chair, his whole body shaking with great, ugly, shuddering sobs. They kept on coming, rolling down his cheeks, soaking his fur and splashing onto the long-forgotten paperwork, but he didn’t care – let ‘em all go to Hell, they had it coming anyway. He buried his head in his hands and let all the frustration pour out of him, lost in a haze of self-pity, until he was rudely interrupted by a knock on his door.

“I’m busy!” he snarled, in the most ferocious roar that should’ve sent anyone running for the hills – so naturally, King Dice just waltzed on in like it was his own office.

“Don’t look too busy to me. I thought you might wanna see today’s numbers - business is up from…” Dice trailed off, his sharp eyes flicking from the shelves turned upside down to the papers scattering the floor before landing on the Devil, in all his red-eyed, matted-furred glory, and he lifted an eyebrow somewhere between curiosity and concern. “Yeesh. What happened here?”

“Nothing! All under control!” the Devil snapped, furiously rubbing his eyes with one hand and unsuccessfully shooing Dice away with the other. “You can show me later – go get back to work and make yourself useful!”

“Sorry, boss – no can do,” Dice answered with a shrug, calm as if he was dealing with a petulant child rather than the embodiment of evil itself. He walked over, picking up the papers and shuffling them into a neat pile on the Devil’s desk. “What kinda right-hand man would I be if I left you here in such a state, hmm? Hey,” he added, more gently, “don’t blow your wig – it’s gonna be okay. Them cupfaces ain’t seen the last of us. The chumps’ll come back – they always do. We’ll be swimmin’ in the dough again before you know it.”

The Devil grumbled half-heartedly, deliberating giving him what for for daring to disobey an order, but then Dice placed a comforting hand on his head, stroking soothingly through his fur, and he couldn’t help but lean into the touch. As humiliating as it was to be caught bawling his eyes out, he had to admit the fella was good with his hands, and he always seemed to know just how to calm him down. He felt the tension start to melt away as gloved fingers got to work massaging his shoulders, letting out a few contented purrs followed by a sigh of pleasure when they targeted a particularly tight spot at the base of his neck.

It was only when Dice’s fingers moved higher, touch just a little too light, that he started to twitch, biting his lip to hold back any embarrassing noises while fighting the urge to scrunch up his neck. He’d almost convinced himself he could endure it – right up until Dice brushed the tender spot below his ear and the Devil jerked, a snort he couldn’t quite muffle slipping past his lips.

“Everything okay there, boss?” He could just hear the smirk in Dice’s voice – he knew exactly what he was doing, and the Devil knew he’d left himself much too vulnerable. “You seem a little...jumpy.”

“Dice.” The Devil lifted his head to glare at him, but the stupid wobbly smile tugging at the corner of his mouth threatened to betray him as the tension resurfaced in the form of anticipatory butterflies fluttering in his stomach. “Don’t you dare – you better not be thinking about trying…”

“Don’t what, boss? I’ve no idea what you mean.” Dice ran a fingertip over the pointed curve of the Devil’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “All I’m trying to do his help you relax – unless you’re telling me you’re too ticklish to take even this…”

The Devil opened his mouth to threaten him, but Dice’s fingers dug into the sweet spot behind his ear and all that flew out was a stream of unfittingly angelic giggles as he scritched away with just the right amount of pressure.

“Well, hi-de-ho, here we go!” Dice crooned, his teasingly triumphant sing-song almost melting the Devil into a furiously blushing puddle. “There’s that smile again. You’re looking much happier already – good to know this no-good lackey’s still good for somethin’, huh?”

“Dihihihihice!” the Devil spluttered, arms flailing wildly as he attempted to bat his hands away - but that only worsened his predicament, as Dice seized his paw, holding it captive in one hand while those fiendishly skilled fingers skittered over his ribs and scribbled mercilessly into his newly exposed armpit; the Devil should’ve overpowered him easily, but he was even weaker from the uncontrollable cackles reverberating through the room than from his earlier outpouring of emotion. “You just wahahahahait – Ihihihihi’m gonna –”

“You’re gonna what, boss, hmm? Laugh for me?” Dice purred, his warm breath in the Devil’s ear tickling him in tandem with his devious fingers performing every dirty trick they knew. “I sure hope so, ‘cause I’ve been missin’ that sweet laugh of yours. Been waiting to get my hands on this deliciously ticklish tum…” He squeezed his sides and the Devil yelped, lost to helpless hysterics as Dice’s fingers raked through his fur to tease the agonisingly sensitive skin underneath, pinching and poking and swirling around his navel before digging into the money spot. “Just imagine if the folks out there could see you now, the big, bad king of Hell, meanest and toughest in the land – but I know the truth. You’re just my ticklish li’l kitty, aren’t ya? Aren’t ya?”

The tears were still streaming down the Devil’s cheeks thick and fast – but now for an entirely different reason, and when Dice leaned down to rub his face lovingly into his trembling fur, nuzzling and nibbling at every bit of skin he could reach, he came completely undone.

“Y-yehehehehehes!” the Devil bleated, pounding his fist desperately against his desk as Dice smothered his belly with part kisses, part raspberries, but every bit too ticklish to stand for much longer. He only realised what he’d admitted to when they eased off and Dice stood up, grinning from pip to pip at having apparently heard the answer he wanted.

“There, now, doesn’t that feel better?” he cooed, emerald eyes sparkling with sadistic satisfaction and affection as he cupped the Devil’s burning cheeks in his gloves, thumbs stroking over the tear trails in his fur before pressing a brief but tender kiss to his nose. “No more tears.”“Youhuhuhu - dirty, cheatin’, sneaky, no-good…” The Devil rubbed at his arms, trying to shake off the lingering tingles along with his goofy smile while gathering his breath and dignity; Dice just chuckled and preened at his choice descriptors as if they were the highest praise – which, coming from the Devil, maybe they were. “Listen. If you tell anyone about this…”

He didn’t specify whether he meant the crying or the tickling – neither were exactly fitting for his fearsome reputation – but Dice nodded, miming zipping up his mouth and pressing a finger to his lips.

“Wouldn’t dream of tellin’ a soul, boss. Why would I, when I can have you like this all to myself?” He winked as he caught the Devil’s eye, fluttering his fingers before disappearing back into the hallway. “Catch ya later.”

The door swung shut and the Devil leaned back in his chair with a long-suffering yet contented sigh, smoothing his claws through his ruffled fur before resuming his work. They’d see who caught who later, alright, his usual scheming grin creeping back into place just thinking about the fun they’d have. The Devil always gave back a thousand times worse than he got – he did have that diabolical reputation to maintain.

And, just maybe, there was still a hell of a lot to love about his job after all.

[moondancewrites]

Kaleidoscope Eyes Chapter 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Lucy Larson (OC)

Warnings: Pure NSFW smut and a lot of fluff.

Summary: After the Infinity War, Bucky Barnes is invited to officially join the Avengers and move into their compound.  For the first time in a long time, everything in Bucky’s life makes sense.  He has a place he belongs, friends who care about him, and a purpose.  But, there’s one thing that’s keeping him from feeling truly like his old self.  It isn’t long before he realizes that the something he’s missing might be found in Lucy Larson, a Stark Industries employee who has worked her way up the ranks to become Maria Hill’s executive assistant at the Avengers compound.

A/N:  This story exists in a perfect world where none of our beloved Avengers die in Infinity War and Cap and everyone come back to the Avengers compound to live and work.  What’s the point of fan fiction if you can’t keep the ones you love alive, right?  Be gentle on me - this is my first Bucky fic and it scares the hell out of me to write someone as complex as him.  Also, this will switching POVs every once in a while.

You can find the rest of the story on my Masterlist

Bucky gazed at the stunning woman on top of him.  His vision felt a bit fuzzy after what he’d just experienced, but he saw her.  The way her dark curls fell over her shoulder made his racing heart flutter in his chest.  And her eyes.  God, he swore he’d never got over those eyes.  And right now … the way they were looking down at him with lust and affection … He wanted her to look at him like that forever.  

She leaned down and gave him a soft, gentle kiss before she pulled herself off of him and rolled over onto his side, curling her naked body against his.  She put her arm around him, peppering kisses over his neck and collarbone and chest.

“You okay?” she asked him breathlessly.

“Yes,” he whispered, reaching his hand over to caress her cheek.  “Luc… did you …”

“This wasn’t about me,” was all she said.  That was a no.  He felt like a jerk.  He was so wrapped up in his own pleasure that he didn’t even think about hers until it was too late.  But he knew that even if he wanted to, his body wouldn’t let him hold out for her - she wrecked him too much.  

“I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s okay,” she assured him, cupping his stubbled jaw and giving him another kiss.  “I don’t need to.”

“What?  Of course you do.”  His hand moved into her hair and he kissed her again, this time sliding his tongue into her mouth and earning a moan from her lips.  Her body pressed against his.  If she made those noises when all he did was kiss her, he wondered what she sounded like when she came.

He needed to make her come.

“Wow,” she uttered when his lips left hers.  She bit her bottom lip, gazing at him.  “You really know how to kiss, you know that?”

“I know how to do other things, too,” he told her, his metal hand brushing up and down her side, ghosting up over her ribs and to the curve of her breast.  Lucy closed her eyes.  “Look at me, Lucy,” he told her.  Her eyes fluttered open.  “Mouth or hand?” he asked.

“Huh?” she asked, blinking in confusion.

“Do you want me,” he kissed her, “to make you come,” he kissed her again, “with my hand,” another kiss, “or my mouth?”

“Oh,” she sighed, almost moaning.  She put her hand on his chest, rubbing her hand gently over his pecks.  “I…” her hand moved down his metal arm and she smiled shyly up at him.

“That hand?” he asked, smiling coyly at her.  She nodded.  “Really?”

“Mmm hmm,” she hummed, kissing his neck as she entwined her flesh fingers with his metal ones.  “I really like it …”

“Really?” He asked again.  He was sure that if he was ever intimate with a woman again that the arm would only be a hindrance; that it would only turn the woman off.  He didn’t expect her to like it, let alone want it on her, making her come undone.

“I mean, you don’t have to, I just-” She was stumbling over her words.  Bucky smiled, thinking she must be the most adorable, sexiest woman he’d ever met.  “I just like-” He stopped her with a kiss.  A sensual, deep, knee-weakening kiss that made Lucy moan into his mouth again.  Bucky let go of her hand, moving it to her hip and giving her a little squeeze.  She gasped and when he pulled away thinking he’d hurt her, she pulled him back, kissing him ferociously and wrapping her leg around him.

“Is this what you want, doll?” He asked, moving his hand in between their bodies and into her soft, soaking folds.  He praised Wakanda’s technology in that moment because unlike with his other arms where he barely felt a thing, this time he felt everything.  He could feel how wet she was.  He could feel the heat coming off of her.  He could feel how insanely soft her skin was.  

“Yes,” she whimpered, grasping onto his metal arm and burying her face in his neck.  He started to stroke her slowly and she sighed against his skin, “Yes.  Yes.  Yes.”

“Turn onto your back,” he whispered, giving her cheek a kiss.  “I want to watch you.” He heard her breath hitch in his chest and he smiled, knowing he was getting to her just as she got to him.  She did as he asked and he turned his body into hers slightly, watching her body writhe as his finger teased her.  She grinded up against his finger and Bucky was mesmerized by the way her body moved. She moved her hands up over her head, arching her back.  God, her body was amazing.  Her breasts … that waist … those thighs.  What a woman, he thought.

“Buck,” she whined, looking up at him.

“You want more?” he asked, kissing her.

“Why are you teasing me?” she pouted.  That was why.  She was so fucking sexy.  “More,” she said, pulling him in for a kiss.  “More,” she repeated against his lips.  He silently obliged her, moving another finger in to rub her, moving down over her entrance and teasing her by moving them in just a bit.  Fuck.  She was so tight.  He wondered how she was able to take him.  He wanted her to do it again.  But not yet … not yet.  

--

The smirk on Bucky’s face would have made Lucy angry if it didn’t turn her on so much.  He knew exactly what he was doing and, honestly, Lucy was a bit surprised he was doing it.  He had seemed a bit shy to her before, although she was sure now that it had been because he was afraid of being intimate with someone again.  Maybe she’d unlocked something in him when she kissed him on the veranda.  And when she made him come.  God, she wanted to do that again.  He looked so good doing it.  And he looked good now, too.  His face was so pretty usually, but now … with those pretty eyes blazing with lust and his hair a little messy and those kiss-swollen lips.  He was making her so hot.

“Ah,” she cried out when he pushed his fingers inside of her a little deeper.

“So tight,” he groaned before pressing his lips up against hers in a kiss that, if she were standing, would have made her collapse.  

“Bucky,” she moaned, holding onto his arm and grinding her hips against his hand, seeking out more friction.

“You feel fucking amazing, doll,” he told her.

“You can … feel me?” she asked.  He nodded.  She didn’t know the arm was that advanced.  She wondered what other things she didn’t know about it …

“Are you gonna come for me?” he asked, pressing his forehead against hers and looking into her eyes.  She hummed in response, biting her lower lip and looking up at him.  “God, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

“You have - AH!” He brought his thumb to her clit, rubbing it in perfect circles while his fingers moved deeper inside of her, hooking up to brush against her g-spot.  “Bucky, Jesus Christ.”  She grabbed onto his shoulders, one hand moving to the back of his head to grab his hair.

“More?” he asked, going a little faster; a little deeper.  “Is this what you want?”

“FUCK! Yes!” She threw her head back.  “Oh, God!” she gasped when Bucky’s lips went to her neck, dragging down to her breasts as he took her nipple in is mouth.  Both of her hands were in his hair now and when she tugged on it, he growled against her, sending a ripple of pleasure through her entire body.  She arched her back and Bucky sucked harder, grazing her with his teeth.  “Jesus, Buck.  You’re going to make me come so hard if you keep doing that.”

“What?  This?”  He bit a little harder and she gasped in pleasure, tugging harder on his hair.  His tongue soothed her sensitive skin before he moved his lips to her other breast, repeating the motions as his hand worked her to the brink.

With one more deep plunge of his fingers the dam inside her burst, flooding her body with intense waves of pleasure.  Bucky moved his body over hers just enough so he could capture her lips in a kiss.  “I’m coming,” she whimpered against his lips, cupping his jaw.

“I can feel it,” he said, his voice dripping with lust.  “Come for me, sweetheart.”  The way he said that … Jesus, he could get her to do anything if he talked to her with that voice.

“Buck,” she breathed, her lips hovering just below his but not quite kissing him because she needed all the air she had to ride out her orgasm.  Her chest heaved against him.  He was still rubbing her and it got to that point where it was all too much, so she put her hand on his wrist. “Stop.”

He did, although she could tell he didn’t want to.  Gently, he pulled his hand away from her. Her body was trembling when he pulled her into his chest, wrapping his strong, muscular arms around her.

“You’re fucking perfect, doll.”

“I like it when you call me that,” she said, smiling up at him.

“Yeah?” he asked.  She nodded.  “Good, because you are my doll.”  She blinked at him in surprise.

--

The look on her face made Bucky wish he could take back what he’d just said.  He knew he was old-fashioned when it came to relationships and sex but he didn’t think about what she might want.  What if she just wanted sex?  If that’s what she wanted, he could give that to her.  I mean, he’d be crazy not to.  She was outrageously sexy and she made him feel so good - he needed more of that.  But, he wanted more of her, too.  He wanted to hold her hand and take her out dancing and watch more movies cuddled up in the theater room.  But she might not want that and he had to make a quick recovery.

“I mean, if you want to be … If you just want to …I don’t really-”

“I want to be,” she said, cupping his jaw and pulling him into a kiss.  He felt his heart swell as she moved her mouth against his.  Bucky pulled away from her, looking into her eyes.

“Really?”

“Of course I do, Bucky.”  Her perfect lips curved up into the sweetest smile.  “You’re wonderful.”  She kissed him.  “Now that you’re finally acknowledging my existence and not running away from me.”  She chuckled a bit, but Bucky didn’t.  “I really thought you hated me when I found out you wanted to switch tables at the wedding.”

“Lucy.”  Well, now he felt like shit.  He didn’t realize she knew or that she cared about that.  He should have realized, but he was too wrapped up in his own shit to see how hurt she had been.  She stared at his chest, her fingers brushing over his skin, making him tremble.  “I’m sorry … I didn’t know you felt …”

“If you knew I had a crush on you, would you have run from me?” she asked.

“Probably faster,” he said without even thinking.  Lucy chuckled, giving him a kiss.

“I’m that scary, huh?”

“Not now,” he whispered.  “And I feel like an idiot for ever thinking you were.  I’m so sorry, Lucy.  I shouldn’t have been such a fucking wimp.  I think the nightmare I had about you just cemented the fact in my head that you’d never want me.”

“Nightmare?” she asked.

“The night we watched Back to the Future together.  I had a nightmare that we were watching a scary movie and you got all close and cuddly with me.”  He cuddled against her and she smiled.  “But then when I tried to kiss you …”

“Did dream me turn you down?” she asked.  He nodded and she shook her head.  “Stupid dream me,” she joked.  But then her tone shifted and her gaze softened.  “Bucky, I would never,” she kissed him, “ever,” she kissed him again, “turn down someone as sweet,” another kiss, “and gentle,” another kiss, “and sexy,” another, steamier kiss, “as you.”

“I know that now.  I wish I had known it before - gotten out of my own head.”

“Yeah.  Me, too.  We could have been having sex months ago!”  Bucky threw his head back and laughed.  “I love your laugh,” she said, smiling against the skin of his neck as she peppered him with kisses.  Her hand moved down his chest, over his abdomen.  “God, your body is amazing.”

“So is yours …” His hand moved up her side, brushing over the underside of her breast.  She shuddered - she must like that.  He did it again, smiling against her lips.  “I love these.”  His hand moved over her breast, gently cupping it.  She moved against him, pressing her breast into his hand.  “And this…” His hand moved down, tracing the curve of her waist.

“I love these.”  She bit her lip, tracing her fingers over the ridges of his abs.  “And this,” she said, kissing his jaw as her hand moved around to his backside, squeezing his bare ass.  

“Jesus, Luc,” he groaned.  He was getting hard again.  Three times in one night?  God, this girl was magic.  

“You like that, huh?” she asked, motioning down to his growing hard on.  She squeezed again and he gulped, nodding.  “I like it, too.”

“You mean, you like it when I …” He moved his hand over her hip, down to her plush, perfect ass, gently squeezing it.  She moved up against him, brushing herself against his cock.  

“Mmm hmm.”  She nipped at his lower lip.  Fuck, she was sexy.  He grabbed her tighter, pulling her against him and hitching her leg up against his waist so he could grind his cock against her core.  She was just as turned on as him, coating him in her arousal.  

Don’t blow it, he told himself.  Hold on.  Think of something disgusting like Steve’s mom’s old cabbage soup.

“I need you inside of me,” Lucy mumbled against his lips.  Her hands were all over him, rubbing over his stomach and up to his neck, grasping onto him as he kissed her deeper.

“I need it, too,” he told her, moving her onto her back and moving on top her.  He flexed his arms, hovering over her.  She smiled up at him, moving his hair back behind his ears before pulling him down for a kiss that almost made him lose his balance and fall on top of her.

“Now, Buck,” she coaxed, digging her heel into his ass.

“Fuck,” he groaned.  Cabbage.  Cabbage.  The Boston Red Socks.  Sam’s smelly socks.  It was working, but he wanted to focus on her.  He wanted to think of her and how fucking amazing she felt as he moved slowly inside of her, feeling her stretch for him, taking every inch.  He wanted to focus on the curve of her neck when she threw her head back in ecstasy against the pillow.  He wanted to stare at her soft, kiss-swollen lips as she muttered his name in that intoxicating voice.  So, that’s what he did.

“Just like that, Buck,” she whimpered, arching her back.  “Just like … Oh, God!  Yes.”  She grasped at his back, digging her nails into him just enough to sting.  It felt fucking amazing.  He moaned - loudly.  “That’s it, baby.  Let me hear you.”  She rubbed his back, nibbling on his ear.  

“Fuccckkk,” he moaned, his pace quickening.  He wasn’t going to last.

“I fucking love that sound,” she said in his ear, digging her heel into his ass again.

“Jesus, doll, you’re … you’re gonna make me …”

“Good,” she said, moving her body up against his.  “Come with me.”  With?  Jesus, did she mean …

“Lucy,” he growled, burying his face in her neck.  She held onto him tight in every way.  Her arms flung around his neck and he felt her inner walls start to pulse around him.  “FUCK!”  Feeling her body squeeze him like that sent him over the edge.  He gritted his teeth, balling the sheet that they were laying on top of in his fist.  

“Hold onto me,” she said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.  “Ohhh, God, Buck.”  She was still pulsing, milking every drop out of him.  He squeezed her hand, bringing it over her head as his pace slowed.  When he stilled, he let go of her hand, running his fingers down her arm and across to her neck where he pulled her into a breathless kiss.  “Wow,” she whispered.  Her body was trembling.  Or was that him?  He wasn’t sure. “Just … wow.”  She smiled up at him.  “That was so good, baby.”

“You …” he started, knowing that she knew what he was asking.  She nodded.

“I did.  And it was so good.”  She kissed him again.  “I guess I didn’t have to lead the way the first time - you really know what you’re doing.”  Bucky chuckled.

“I guess I remembered some stuff.”  He shrugged.  Lucy giggled, pushing at his chest playfully.  Bucky laughed, giving her nose a kiss before pulling out of her and rolling onto his back.  Lucy turned her body to him and he pulled her close.

“I think you were playing dumb just so I’d ride you.”

“What?”  He feigned shock.  “No.  I’d never.”

“Uh-huh.”  She brushed her lips against his chest.

“That was really hot, though.”

“You know what’s hot?”  She pulled him in for a tantalizing kiss.

“What?” he blinked.  She said he knew how to kiss, but her kiss … She could undo him with a kiss like that.

“Your moan,” she said, grazing her teeth across his pulse on his neck.  Bucky gulped and she chuckled.  “I like it when you’re loud - it’s such a turn on.”

“Noted,” he said, running his finger tips up and down her back.  “Every single thing you do turns me on.”

“Everything?” she asked, her brow raising in question.  He nodded.  “Doubtful.  You haven’t seen me dance.”

“I think you forget that I was watching you dance all night.”

“Shit!”  Lucy pressed herself up with her hand on his stomach.  

“What?  What is it?”

“Jeff!”  

“What?” Bucky shot her a look.

“I was dancing with Jeff.  And I went to the bathroom and said I’d be right back.  But then I ran into you and Sam and …”

“Oh.”  Bucky bit his lip.  “Sorry?”

“I’m sure you are,” she laughed, lowering herself back down to kiss him.  Bucky held her to him, moving his hand up into her curls.

“Watching you dance with him drove me nuts.”

“I’m supposed to go out with him on Friday …”

“Oh.”

“I’m not going now, obviously.”  Wow.  What if he hadn’t stormed out of the ballroom with Sam following him, unintentionally revealing to Lucy how he felt?  What if she went out with Jeff and they hit it off?  Man … he almost missed his chance.  

“I really need to thank Sam,” he said.  Lucy looked at him quizzically.  “If he hadn’t called me out on my feelings … and if you hadn’t been there.  God,” Bucky pulled her close, kissing her, “I almost missed you.”

“I guess I need to thank Sam, too.  Although, I feel like if you saw me with Jeff you might have finally gotten up the balls to say something …”

“Hold on … were you going to go out with him to make me jealous?”  Lucy shrugged.  “You little minx!” he said through his teeth, squeezing her hips.  Lucy giggled.  “Yeah … that would have worked.”

“I mean, he’s a sweet guy.  But he’s not you, Buck.  Nobody makes me feel …” She trailed off.

“Makes you feel what?” he asked, nuzzling her.

“I don’t know … this.”  She motioned between them.  “This is just …”

“I know,” he said, kissing her.  “I feel it, too.”  Her lashes fluttered.  “Let’s get some sleep, hmm?”

“Mmm hmm,” she hummed, cuddling against him.  “Night, Buck.”

“Night, Luc.”

And that was the best night’s sleep Bucky Barnes had in 75 years.

[tracksuit-goth]

Nathaniel finds a witch and lives to regret it

One night Mira was walking home on her own. It wasn’t fully dark yet, but the street lamps had come on, casting an orange glow over the alley as she turned down the lane. A cool evening breeze kissed her neck. She thought she felt someone’s eyes on her but decided to ignore it. That was her first mistake.

Nathaniel was tense, wound up like a top and ready to spring forward. He just needed the right trigger. He needed someone to go off on.  It wasn’t until he turned down the alleyway that he found her. His heart thudded audibly inside his chest. Blonde hair and the swish of a skirt. That was his first mistake.

“Ah! Fuck!” Mira cried out. She collided with the concrete wall, one arm twisted against her back. She kicked and bucked, trying to throw off her attacker. But Nathanial was stronger than he looked. Behind her, he was breathing heavily, both from the exertion and the exhilaration.

“Dirty whore…”He knew it, he knew it. Like too many young women in the world, this one had no morals. He pulled on her arm viciously.

“Let me go!” Mira thrashed violently, trying to shake him off. He clung on to her, keeping her place against the wall.

“Shutupshutpshutup!” He hissed back at her, his voice high and tense. He was having trouble finding his knife. His attention divided by trying to keep her from escaping. He stuffed the knife in his pocket so he could have both hands free. That was his second mistake.

Mira also had something stashed in her pocket; her wand. While she only had one hand to work with, her attention was not divided like Nathaniel’s was. She jostled against him, fighting with the folds of her coat until finally plunged her hand inside and pulled out the bit of wood. She didn’t have much room, but she managed well enough. From over her shoulder, she cast her jinx “Flipendo!.”

Her assailant was knocked back as if shoved by a strong man. With a grunt, he stumbled away from her.  He was both confused and enraged. He had had her. HE HAD HAD HER. But now there were staring at each other from across the width of the alley. Him with his knife and her with her wand. She looked just as confused as he did as if she hadn’t expected her trick to work. She hadn’t, but seeing the knife in his hand was very, very glad that it had.

“What the fuck, man?!” She shouted at him. There was no good explanation for this and they both knew it. Still, she wanted to know. He hesitated for a moment, weighing his options. Did he attack? Did he run? She had seen his face, what if she went to the police? But what on god’s green earth did she have in her hand? Nathaniel only ever started fights he thought he would win. He was at a loss. His courage failing him he ran.

That lasted all of ten seconds. In that time she realized what was happening and just how to stop him. “Immobulus!” He stopped dead in his tracks as if he had run headfirst into a wall. She watched him fight uselessly against her curse while she cautiously approached. Her panic was starting to fade, but it was quickly being replaced with rage. Who the fuck was this asshole? Well, she was determined to find out.

* Mira hauled the man into her flat by the collar of his shirt. She would be lucky if nobody noticed all the ruckus they made, but she couldn’t worry about that now. She kicked the door shut while her hands were busy with her captive. Nathaniel cursed and struggled but with his hands tied behind his back, he was limited in what he could do.

She pulled out a chair from her kitchen table and threw him into it. His bony ass thudded against the wood seat. He let out an indignant squawk, eyes bulging with rage. Mira had a much calmer air. She flicked her wand, locking the door and then turned to the man in front of her.

He looked a lot younger now that she could see him in the light of her kitchen, as opposed to the dim light of the back alley. In fact, if she had to hazard a guess she would say that they were around the same age. He was pale in a sickly, desaturated kind of way. His eyes, though blue like hers lacked any depth of color. The bags under his eyes were almost the same color. He glared up at her from under his fringe.

“So, who the fuck are you?!” She demanded. Her lip curled revealing a set of unusually sharp canines. The moment ticked on as thy fumed at each other. While Mira was expecting an answer she was not surprised that she didn’t get one. She was prepared to take another course of action. With a growl, she jabbed her wand under his chin. “Who are you? What’s your name?”

His eyes dropped to the floor, refusing to acknowledge her. she gave him a little zap with her wand to encourage him. “C’mon, tell me.”

He muttered incoherently as if talking to himself. Mira bent closer to hear him, her hand on the back of the chair. But instead of answering her he spat in her face.

“Eugh!” She wiped her face. With the same hand, she slapped him across the face. She stared down at him, her face set. “You can fight with me all you want. But you think it’s going to get you anywhere? If you want to get out, you’re going to have to work with me. So, let’s try this again. What’s your name?”

For a while, it seemed like Nathaniel would never answer her. She considered tossing him out the window if her third-floor apartment just to be done with it. Eventually, like pouring molasses he finally worked through whatever it was he had running through his head. The gears, rusty as they were, ground to a halt. “Quinn. My name is Quinn.” He knew well enough that he couldn’t avoid talking to her forever, not when her eyes bore into him and she held that infernal stick.  But that didn’t mean he had to tell her the truth. He owed this woman nothing, and he would gladly give it to her.

Her nose twitched, her senses told her that he was lying. Her eyes narrowed. Lying to the supernatural was never a bright idea. This time she decided to let it go. So maybe he gave her the wrong name, there were more important things she wanted to find out.

But first, tea. Mira wandered away from her captive and set the kettle on the stove. Nathaniel craned his head around. What was she going to do? Pour boiling water on him? His mother had done something similar to him as a child. She dunked his hand in a pot of boiling water in an attempt to clean out an infection. It was horrible, it hurt for weeks. He endured that, he could endure this too.

Currently, she wasn’t interested in torturing her guest. It had been a very long day, and it looked like it was going to be a long night too. She wasn’t sure what to do with him. He had tried to kill her. Should she return the favour? Should she take him to the police? Nothing leapt out at her. She filled her teapot and with a flick of her wand sent it drifting over to the table. Her cream, sugar, and tea cup all trailed behind until they clicked gently against the wood top. “I’d offer you some, but it looks like your hands are tied.” She smiled at her joke and poured herself a cup of tea. Nathaniel glared daggers at her.

“So…How come you tried to kill me?” Mira stared back at him, chin in her hand. “Were you trying to mug me? Rape me? What’s your deal?” She didn’t have much money, if that was what he was after, he was out of luck. Her expression was mild, but her eyes bore into him. Maybe once she figured out why he attacked him, she would know what to do with him.

Nathaniel wasn’t interested in talking to this witch, envoy of the devil that she was. He didn’t know why she was playing with him like this. If she was going to kill him she should just do it already. But then, the dread was all part of the punishment he supposed. Unless he could find a way to escape then this would be his introduction to hell. Maybe he should have seen this coming, that one day he would be caught. He just thought he would have been able to make more progress before his time came. He stared into the middle distance, glaring ferociously.

Mira sighed and poured herself a cup of tea, taking her time. Normally she did not bother with the ritual of making a whole pot of tea, but she needed something to settle her mind. Facing her attacker like this was harder now that the adrenaline was starting wear off. Even though she had all the power she felt that she was stalling, she hoped that her prison didn’t realize it. She glanced up from her cup and found him staring at her, dead-eyed with loathing. It was jarring, to have a complete stranger look at you with such contempt; she cleared her throat. “I guess it doesn’t really matter, does it? What your name is, why you attacked me; you lost.” She looked away towards the window, the sky was dark and the tall buildings around them obscured the moon.

“You know I can’t just let you leave, right?” She smiled at him in a sort of apologetic way, as if that would soften the blow. She finished her cup and stoop up, leaving everything but her wand on the table.

He definitely noticed that she took her wand with her. “So what are you going to do?” He asked, his voice low. He was wasn’t sure what to think. But he knew he wasn’t going to bear his throat to this woman, even if that meant she slit it.

“Well, I have an idea. I’m not really a violent person but…y’gotta do what y’gotta do.” From somewhere in her kitchen Mira had produced a mortar and pestal, she was currently grinding something strong smelling inside. He watched she as she wandered back and forth through her home, gathering ingrediance. The more he looked around the more evidence of her evil ways he saw; crystals’s and herbs hanging in the window, occult symbols on her wall. He said a silent prayer for himself.

She stood over him, a knife in her hand. Both her wand and her mortar sat on the table. “Excuse me, I just need a little bit of this.” In the fat of his forearm she dug her knife, until thick drops of blood formed and rolled down his elbow. He hissed and jerked away from her but it just mad his blood drip on the floor. She picked up her mortar and caught a few drops of blood. Immediately the smell of burnt hair wafted up from her bowl, the contents burbled unhappily.

[thesecretfandom]

Welcome Home Betty -- Bughead

Word Count: 2,004

Rated: E

A/N: A little continuation of Welcome Home Juggie. I love the Happy!Bughead stories. #FluffySmut (Read on AO3)

"Curfew!" The shrill voice of Alice Cooper could be heard from a mile away. Unfortunately, she was standing just outside Betty's bedroom door. "Jughead, back to your room."

Jughead was sitting at the end of Betty's bed with his arms propped behind him, while Betty leaned against her headboard with her legs strewn lazily over her boyfriend's lap. In her hands she was holding Jughead's beanie, fiddling with the pointed ends of the crown. He'd recently taken to lounging without his hat on, only in his and Betty's rooms of course.

Ever since Jughead had moved in the Cooper's had a rule that doors had to remain open when the two of them were together in a room, and after eleven o'clock they had to return to their separate rooms.

When neither Betty nor Jughead made a move to separate from each other, Alice shouted again. "Now, please."

Jughead scrambled off the bed in an instant. He was not one to put himself at the mercy of his girlfriend's uptight mother. Betty followed him up, giving him a quick peck on the lips. She couldn't give him the goodnight kiss he deserved with her mother standing there, but she couldn't just let him walk away without any show of affection.

"Goodnight, Jug." Betty said, hugging him tightly.

"Goodnight, Betts." Jughead reciprocated with a kiss to her forehead.

"That's quite enough." Alice interrupted. "Separate rooms. And you had better stay in your own rooms. Don't think I don't hear you two talking in the middle of the night. "

"Yes, Mrs. Cooper." Jughead sidestepped Alice on his way out the door.

"I swear to God I will install security cameras if I have to. Don't test me."

"Goodnight, Mom." Betty sighed, slowly shutting the door in her mother's face.

From her side of the door, Betty listened to the footsteps as her mother and boyfriend retreated to their own rooms. One by one the doors clicked shut and Betty returned to the warm spot on her bed. She took her phone from the bedside table at the same time that a message popped up on the screen.

Jug: This is hell.

Betts: I know. I miss you already.

A grin spread itself across Jughead's face. Everything Betty did or said made Jughead happier that he could imagine. He didn't even mind that, while staring up at the message on his phone, he dropped his phone right on his face.

"Fuck!" He whispered under his breath. He rolled over in his bed and pulled the blanket over his head.

Jug: How long are we going to let her rules control us?

Betts: What did you have in mind?

As if she didn't know. Jughead and Betty had spent plenty of time in their hideout under the stairs. It was the only place they could truly be alone. Thus far, they would only hide away after school and on weekends when Betty's parents were working on a story. And God knows Riverdale has plenty of breaking news stories to keep them busy.

Jug: Our Spot. 30 mins. I'll go first. You follow 5 mins after.

Betts: It's a date ;)

Thirty minutes later Betty listened to Jughead's soft footsteps pad down the carpeted hallway. Betty stared at her feet, willing the next five minutes to pass.

Jug: Coast is clear. You're a go, Little Coop.

Betts:One condition

Jug: ??

Betts: Never call me little coop again

Jughead would never get over the sight of Betty in her pajamas. Soft cotton shorts and a loose T-shirt. On the colder nights Betty wore a pair of thick socks, like tonight. Betty immediately crawled under the blankets with Jughead, pulling the door shut behind her. Betty rested her head on Jughead's arm and cuddled close to him. She intertwined their legs and pressed her lips to his neck.

"We should just move in here." Betty whispered against her boyfriend's skin.

"Don't like the commute?" Jughead laughed.

"Damn right I don’t." She placed a hand on his bare chest and traced the shape of a heart over his real one. "I want to be with you all the time."

"Because you loooove me?" Jughead teased. He squeezed Betty's sides and kissed her cheek.

Betty smacked the boy's chest and crawled on top of him. Her smooth, bare legs straddled his hips and she leaned down close to him, her breasts pressed against his chest.

"Yes, because I loooove you." Betty caught Jughead's lips in a deep, passionate kiss. The blue-eyed boy beneath her slid his hands under her shirt. His hands were so big that he could nearly reach them all the way around the girl's thin waist.

Jughead swiped his tongue across Betty's lips and deepened the kiss further. His hips bucked up against hers even as he held her body close to his. Ever so slowly he inched his hands lower until they dipped under the waistband of her shorts.

Betty's lips curved into a smile. "So that's why you brought me down here." Betty put her hands on his shoulder's to keep her balance as she leaned over her boyfriend.

"I may have had some things in mind." A sinful smirk spread across Jughead's lips and he let his hands drift further and squeeze her ass.

"Hey!" She giggled. "My parents are home."

Jughead hooked his thumbs under the waistband of Betty's panties, but didn't begin to pull. "They've been in bed for over an hour. Plus, they're two stories above us."

Betty was quiet for a long moment, staring intently into Jughead's eyes. He didn't back down, just started slowly moving his hands down.

"You know what? Screw it!"

Betty ferociously pressed her lips to Jughead's. He proceeded to pull down her underwear and her shorts in one smooth motion. Betty was quick to begin pulling her T-shirt over her head. Jughead let her lips part from his for one fleeting moment as she pulled the fabric over her head. Before he knew it, his beautiful girlfriend was completely nude grinding her hips against Jughead's clothed lower half.

Betty began to shimmy down Jughead's legs, their lips separated with a pop. Betty kissed her way down Jughead's chest and slid a hand into Jughead's sweatpants.

"F-fu…" Jughead groaned and Betty worked her hand over his cock.

Jughead fisted the blankets beneath him as his breath picked up. His hips started thrusting on their own accord, forcing Betty to place a hand on his stomach to hold him down.

"No, no." Betty teased.

She pulled away from him for a moment to pull down his pants and boxers. Betty slid further down Jughead's legs and let her lips wrap around the head of his cock. Jughead threaded his fingers through the girls long, blonde hair as she bobbed her head.

"Oh… God. Fuck, Betts."

She pulled off of him and peered up at him under long lashes. Betty licked her lips slowly and smiled devilishly when she noticed how Jughead's entire body flushed.  She began to crawl back up her boyfriend's body, kissing and biting the skin of his chest, shoulder, neck… until she reached his lips. As she kissed her blushing boyfriend, Betty lowered herself onto Jughead. She began grinding  her hips against his while Jughead's drug his fingernails up her back.

"Ohhh, yes." Betty sighed.

Jughead gripped Betty's hips, his strong grip sure to leave a mark in the morning. He held her body against his and flipped their bodies so Jughead was on top, thrusting harshly into Betty. The girl was a sweaty, moaning mess underneath him and Jughead peppered kisses over her naked body. He sucked a mark on her neck, then her shoulder, her breast, until Betty's body tightened around him. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands tangled in his hair.

Jughead slowed his thrusts, trying to hold on to the moment for a while longer. He pressed a long kiss to her lips while he stopped thrusting. Betty moaned against his lips, hips twitching, hoping for more movement.

"Don’t…stop." She breathed as she caught her boyfriend's lower lips between her teeth. She pulled against him with her legs, forcing him to move again. But Jughead is stronger than her, and held his ground. He swiftly pulled out of her and crawled down her body, only one bright blue eye staring up at her behind his curtain of black hair.

Jughead moved his lips to where Betty wanted him most. He slid his tongue over her with a moan, knowing the vibration of his voice would make her twitch in the most beautiful way. Betty's fingers gripped his hair, pulling so hard that it might hurt if Jughead wasn't so distracted. He moved a thumb to press against Betty's clit and began writing a love letter that only he knew and only she could feel.

Betty's moans were growing louder, almost too loud.

"Jug. I…Juggie, please." Her back arched slightly. She was getting close.

"What, Betts? What do you want?" Jughead slowed his movements, waiting for Betty's response.

"I'm getting close." She stuttered. "Want you in me."

Jughead wasted no time. He pulled his lips away from Betty and immediately thrust into her all the way. He started with a few slow thrusts, but soon his movements picked up speed. He pressed his lips against Betty's mouth, swallowing her moans. As his thrusts became more and more uneven Betty's back was arching and he felt her clench around him.  

"Fuck." Betty had reached her climax. Jughead kept thrusting, faster and faster as he reached his high. "Almost… there."

Jughead finally came, his body suddenly becoming very tired as the rush of adrenaline wore off. Betty's small hands were still pressed against Jughead's back, holding him against her as he pulled out. He rolled them over so Betty was lying on top of him as they both came down from their highs. Betty was breathing heavily, her breasts heaving with each breath.

"I knew there was a reason I was dating you." Betty sighed. Her eyes were locked with Jughead's, her hand reaching to cup his face.

"I knew you only liked me for my body." He teased back. He pressed a kiss to Betty's hand and wrapped his arms around his waist. "But I still love you."

"I love you too."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next weekend marked the six month anniversary of their relationship. They had both gone to their separate rooms after school; Jughead claimed to want Betty to get ready for a special dinner. Instead, he snuck into her room and wrapped a scarf around her eyes.

"Jughead Jones! What are you doing?" She exclaimed.

"Shh. It's a surprise!" He grabbed both of her hands in his own and led her out of her room and slowly down the stairs.

"It's not a surprise if I know where we're going. I've lived in this house for sixteen years, Jug. I know the basement."

"Maybe I changed some things." Jughead removed the makeshift blindfold to leave Betty standing in front of the door to their hiding spot. "After you."

Betty rolled her eyes, but opened the door anyway. It may be the same place, but Jughead had changed the whole room. The walls were painted, bright pink and black on alternating walls. A sheer curtain hung from the tallest part of the room to the shortest, where the shape of the stairs made the space confining. Behind the curtain, white fairy lights gave the room a soft glow. On the wall opposite the door Jughead had painted a design on the wall. Silhouettes of two people, one wearing a crown, the other with a ponytail. Underneath it read 'Cooper-Jones Residence Est. 2017.'

Betty turned to her boyfriend, wondering how he'd managed to do all of this in under a week. She couldn't find the words to express her feelings, and Jughead didn't wait for her to try. He simply pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead.

"Welcome Home Betty."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the continuation. I already have another part in mind! Leave some feedback... if you’d like :)

[kasumiafkgod]

Hide and Seek in Waterfalls - Reaper76 Week (History/Decay)

Summary:  Brief glances of the relationship between Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes through their years; the joy, the anger, the sorrow, the love.

AO3 Link

Let's say sunshine for everyone But as far as I can remember

The first time Jack holds Gabriel’s hand, he can’t help but notice the strength in his grip.

“Gabriel Reyes,” says the dark-skinned man, giving Jack’s hand a firm, decisive shake, the calloused fingers stopping just shy of strangling his own.

“Jack Morrison,” he replies in kind as they release each other. “I guess we’re partners now, huh?”

A smirk lifts the corner of Gabriel’s lips, displaying a flash of white teeth. “So long as you don’t dig into my hot sauce stash or dump your shit on my bed, yeah.”

Jack lifts an eyebrow, lips quirking into a smile of his own. “We laying down rules from the get go? No borrowing my shampoo under any circumstances.”

Gabriel plants his hands on his hips, releasing a bark of laughter. “Jokes on you, chico de oro! The crap we use is all standard issue.”

“Not my stuff,” says Jack, shaking his head. “I buy my own. Can’t stand the hair care products around here.”

Scoffing, Jack’s new roommate reaches out and ruffles his blond locks. “Heh. Figures that the pretty boy won’t stoop to using the same stuff us commoners do.”

Ducking out of Gabriel’s hold and out of arm’s reach, Jack aims a half-assed punch at him that goes wide by a mile. Maybe the SEP won’t be so bad after all.

---

His vision is flickering like a faulty holo-screen, there’s a faint ringing in his ears akin to nails on a chalkboard, and Gabriel’s grip on his hand is vice-like despite it being slippery with red.

“Mierda! Hang in there, you son of a bitch! Don’t tell me you’re going to roll over and die that easy.”

The familiar voice breaks through the ringing, pulling him back from that blank serenity. The thunderous roar of gatling guns is muted, sounding more like tiny beads clattering on granite. At his side, Gabriel curses, bowing his head closer over Jack’s to better hide behind the fallen slab of concrete and protruding rebar that minutes ago had been part of a building. His blurred eyesight is not letting him see much beyond the other man’s dark complexion, but there’s no mistaking that ferocious scowl.

“Answer me, cabron,” hisses Gabriel, squeezing Jack’s hand tighter. In his free hand he hefts one of his ridiculous shotguns, while Jack’s own is pressed on the sodden, scarlet rag of a shirt over his stomach. “Come on, asshole. Don’t think you can get away with those ten bucks you still owe me.”

“You… cheated…,” Jack says in between gasps, struggling to hold on to what little clarity he has left. “Do-doesn’t count.”

“No I didn’t and hell yeah it does,” says Gabriel through gritted teeth. “It’s not my fault your poker face is terrible, jackass.”

Jack manages a weak chuckle, ignoring the warmth trickling from his lips and down his chin. “I keep my cash... inside the ladybug printed… sock… in my underwear drawer. Take it… but I’m… counting on you… not to be an ass… and give the rest to my family.”

“Give it to me yourself after this mission is over, bastard,” shouts Gabriel, popping out briefly behind cover to return a few rounds of fire. “Don’t you dare think I’m going to let you half-ass it like that!”

He never once lets go of Jack’s hand, and Jack releases a quiet bark of laughter before his vision fades completely.

---

Breath frozen in his burning lungs, Jack stares at the ground, refusing to meet Gabriel’s eyes.

“I mean,” Jack forces out, the words tasting like chalk in his mouth. “You’re not obligated to me and it’s not like I expect anything from you or anything, but I just-just thought it would be better if I got it out there. Yeah.”

Still nothing but silence from Gabriel, and Jack continues to study the cement floor of the practice range than look at whatever expression might be on the other man’s face. He doesn’t want to look up and see the disgust, or worse, pity , before Gabriel inevitably straight out tells him that the sentiment isn’t returned.

Jack tightens the fists at his sides to dissuade his fidgeting, eyes stinging. This was a stupid idea. What did he even expect to happen? That Gabriel would break out the hearts and rainbows and say ‘I love you, too’? Jack chuckles, though it sounds empty and forced even in his own ears.

“Anyway, that’s that,” says Jack, turning on his heel and making for the exit. “Sorry for interrupting your training, I’ll just—”

A vice grip and jerk on his wrist sends Jack reeling back, a sound somewhere between a shout and a squeak leaving his mouth as he stumbles in a turn to stare wide-eyed at Gabriel. Noses touching. Eyes inches apart. Gabriel’s warm breath washing over his lips.

“Gabe?” he asks, after enduring a few long seconds of silence.

“Did you mean that?” breathes Gabriel, each word exhaled over his lips and Jack suppresses a shudder. “Any of that?”

Their proximity doesn’t let Jack look anywhere except Gabriel’s eyes but now that they’ve made eye contact, he doesn’t think he could look away if he tried. Gabriel’s eyes burn the molten brown of dark copper, his grip on Jack’s wrist scorching his skin through the sleeved hoodie.

Not trusting his voice, Jack nods. Numbness spreads through his body. He’s not sure if his heart is thundering a mile a minute or stopped completely but he’s fairly sure that neither situation could be healthy.

Gabriel’s other hand is behind his neck, the contact sending electricity down his spine. He’s leaning closer to Jack, their lips a hair’s breadth apart, chest pressing up against his. Loosening his grip to slide his hold on Jack’s wrist to his hand, he intertwines their fingers, his grasp firm but gentle enough that Jack could pull away if he wanted.

“Is… is this okay?”

In answer, Jack closes the distance between them.

---

Jack stumbles back from the blow to his cheek, hand coming up to feel at the bruise that’s already starting to swell.

“The hell was that for?!”

“You know damn well what that was for!” Gabriel snaps, lips pulling back in a snarl. Warm hands that used to hold Jack’s in a tender grasp now curled into fists at his sides, ready to strike again at a moment’s notice. “You don’t fucking listen, do you? You just lie down and let the UN walk all over you so you can lick their boots clean like some blind old dog!”

“I was in that press conference to cover up your mess and you know it,” Jack snipes back, glare knitting his brows as he watches Gabriel, wary of another attack. “The media was all over that recent fuck up Blackwatch made, somebody had to do damage control or the whole world would have found out about you.”

Brown eyes blaze in fury, teeth grinding together like rock brunching rock. “You—! Are you even listening to yourself anymore?”

“Overwatch can’t afford to have Blackwatch become public knowledge, Reyes. You know that.”

For a moment, Gabriel’s glare intensifies tenfold, fists clenching tighter. Jack half-expects his former partner to take another swipe at him. But the Gabriel turns his back, stalking out of the room.

“You disappoint me, Morrison.”

The spat out words spoken to the door hurt more than any punch, any bullet wound Jack had ever known. He glances up, mouth open to call Gabriel back as the other man opens the door, a desperate need surging within to pull him close over the ever increasing distance between them and coax Gabriel’s hand out of the fist, tangle their fingers together and relish in the shared warmth of their skin.

But then Gabriel steps through the threshold without a glance back, and Jack closes his mouth, clenches his own hands, and watches him walk away.

---

Burning. He’s burning. Everything is burning.

Jack chokes on another lungful of ash and cinders as he gulps for air, stumbling through flaming rubble on unsteady feet. His pulse rifle dangles from one hand, the other held in front of him and blindly groping for any obstructions. The thick black smoke makes it hard to see.

“Gabe!” he yells—or tries to. His name falls from his lips in something more like a rasp, voice forced through his scorched throat. Not helped by the shouting match that took place mere minutes before.

And how they had shouted—shouted and screamed at each other until their throats were raw. Screamed and shouted some more until weapons were drawn. Until someone shot at something they shouldn’t have that brought the whole of Overwatch down over their heads in flaming ruins.

Jack wheezes, doubling over as his body shudders with wave after wave of wracking coughs. His vision is still shot to all hell, his lungs are burning from the inside out and the heat from the flames is searing him alive and he doubts the remaining structure is going to hold for much longer but he can’t leave. Not yet. Not without—

“Jack!”

“Gabe?” Jack whirls around, straining his ears, desperate to hear anything other than the roar and crackle of approaching flames.

“Jack—”

The voice breaks off into a pained grunt.

“Where are you?” Jack calls, the hold on his steadfast calm slipping as hysteria creeps into his tone.

“Over here!”

“I don’t see you!”

“What do you mean you don’t—shit. Jesus fucking Christ, Jack. That looks bad.”

“Where are you? ”

“Your ten o'clock. Behind an assload of broken ceiling. I’m trapped.”

Stumbling in that general direction, Jack feels in front of him until he bruises his fingers against gritty metal. Something reaches over his hand and takes hold of his fingers.

“Gabe,” Jack whispers, crying with relief. The tears still don’t clear his vision, but Jack would recognise that touch anywhere.

“Damn, you look like shit, cabron.”

“Shut up,” rasps Jack, dropping the pulse rifle at his feet to feel at the obstacle in front of him. Exposed and twisted rebar, slabs of concrete still clinging to it.

“Can’t get around it,” hisses Gabriel, “it’s got me in some fucked up tomb. And my leg’s busted, pinned under all this trash. I can barely reach you.”

“All right,” says Jack through gritted teeth, seizing part of the rebar mesh with both hands. “I’m getting you out.”

A laugh. “You’re fucking crazy. We’re super soldiers, but that doesn’t make us fucking Superman. There’s no way you can lift this thing.”

“I’m not fucking leaving you, Gabe,” Jack gasps, wrenching at the rebar and throwing his weight behind the pull. It doesn’t budge. He fights back the surge of despair building in his gut, adjusting his grip on the heated steel.

“Well, sucks for you but you have to,” Gabriel snaps, and Jack doesn’t need the use of his eyes to know that the man is glaring at him. “There’s no way I’m getting out from under all this crap and the rest of the building is coming down any second now.”

“I’m. Not. Leaving,” hisses Jack, wrenching at the rebar, uncaring of the twisted steel tearing his skin and bloodying his palms. “Not until you’re coming with me.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid, Jack!” There’s the same heat returning to Gabriel’s tone now, but it's interlaced with something else that sounds almost like fear. “ You’ve got two working legs. I’m going nowhere. Get the fuck out of here while you still can!”

“Fuck off, Gabe —”

He’s given a flash of a moment to realise what is happening before it does. The crunch of crumbling concrete, the groan of tons of rubble giving way.

“Jack! ”

There’s the barest swipe of calloused fingertips over his bleeding knuckles, like someone making a grab for his hand, before something collides with the top of his head in a burst of agony and sends his world careening into black.

---

“Figures that we’d end up like this.”

Jack doesn’t move or acknowledge the comment, lying on his back in the filthy alleyway staring up at the storm clouded sky. The rain continues to pelt at his waterlogged clothing and distorts his vision whenever the fat droplets splatter over his visor. It washes the blood from his body like a baptism, pulling the red down onto the ground where it is near indistinguishable from the wet concrete. His pulse rifle is somewhere a few feet away, dropped when he finally lost his footing, stumbling to the ground in a panting heap with a hand over the gaping wounds in his stomach.

“Hey, you falling asleep on me, boy scout?”

He drags in another breath through cracked lips before turning his head to the side to take in the shock of bone white mask not two feet from his face. Reaper doesn’t look any better off than he does, unable to get back up again after being hit by the dart gun Angela had given him—whatever it contained. The black leather of his coat blends into the shadows, wisps of smoke rising from his body and disappearing into the damp night air.

“Just taking a god damned break,” rumbles Jack, turning his face back towards the pouring sky. “I’m not a young man anymore.”

“Neither of us are.”

That’s true. He listens to the thunderous drone of rain impacting against his visor, the concrete, the black leather of Reaper’s over the top outfit. He’s almost reminded of their time in the Enhancement Program, dropping to the ground side-by-side after a full day of intense drills that had sweat pouring from every inch of skin. Or in the early days of Overwatch, when things between them were bright and promising even as the world around them burned, sneaking onto rooftops on quiet nights to lie back and look at the stars and talk as if they were the only ones who existed in the whole world.

Ever since he and Gabriel had met, their lives had intertwined in a way so intimately that pulling them apart would be near impossible, like iron and carbon forged into steel. They always functioned best together, whether it was with or against one another. The last few years had proved that. The both of them frothing at the bit to rip each other’s throats out, demand answers to misunderstandings that they’d both been responsible for causing. And now here they are, lying in a growing pool of Jack’s blood and out of breath as they tried to have a talk that came too little way too late.

Had anything really changed?

“You still breathing, old man?” Reaper demands, yanking Jack back from his murky thoughts. “Got the strength to hold up your gun? If you want to kill me, you’re not going to get another opportunity like this one.”

Jack focuses on the rasping voice to isolate it from the thundering rain falling around his head—the voice that shouldn’t sound familiar but does—even through the distortion of a constantly decaying and regenerating throat. It reverberates between the dingy narrow walls, a rich bass sound that he remembers singing him to sleep in the dead of the night. Songs in a language he didn’t understand, only their melody and scattered words clinging to his fraying memory.

Without a word, Jack reaches up with numb fingers and fumbles clumsily with the edges of his visor. Beside him, Reaper freezes.

“The hell are you doing?”

The latches release with a muted click and he pries off the visored mask. His red-tinted world falls away, replaced by dull colours and somewhat distinct shapes. A dull thud echoes in his ears as the visor drops to the ground, as though the effort of removing it had exhausted his remaining reserves of strength. Rain now freely beats his scarred face. It stings his faded eyes, plasters thinning white hair to his forehead, runs over his lips and onto his tongue. He tastes ozone.

“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” he asks the weeping sky, a hint of a laugh creeping into his voice. Or maybe it was the start of a crying session, he couldn’t tell anymore.

There’s no answer from Reaper, the silence stretching out long enough that Jack almost turns to look at him again when the touch of ice cold metal on his cheek stops him.

Reaper runs the back of a gleaming claw over Jack’s sopping skin, the surprisingly tender contact tracing the line of his jaw down to his chin. Jack suppresses a shiver and turns to look at Reaper then, when the tips of those pointed claws are resting inches from his unprotected throat. Water streams over them both, their silhouettes highlighted by their leathers made glossy by the rain. The wraith no longer wore his mask, the visage of an owl cast aside when he hadn’t been looking. Staring back at him is a spectre of his past.

“You’ve gotten old,” rasps Gabriel, face literally cracking apart in a grin. Skin and flesh stretch and tear over his cheek, briefly revealing teeth and gums visible even without his visor. Before Jack can react, the wounds knit themselves closed. Gabriel’s eyes glint blood red instead of molten brown, dull black hair streaked through with grey. But it’s still Gabriel.

Ignoring the jab, Jack reaches past the clawed hand at his jaw to run his own along Gabriel’s brow. The man turned wraith closes his eyes, allowing Jack’s fingers to roam over the familiar contours of his face. His skin runs hot, flakes of grey dispersing like ash wherever Jack trails his fingers.

But it’s still Gabe.

“Both of us have,” says Jack, his lowered tone barely audible above the rain.

Gabriel’s other hand comes up to wrap over his, their fingers lacing together like they had so many times long ago as if they’d never stopped. The press of Gabriel’s palm on his, Gabriel’s fingers between his own, rouses a sweet ache in his chest he’d long forgotten.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he’d finally come home.

It’s enough for him so Jack smiles and lets his eyes slip shut.

“Jack?”

---

Sunlight filters through the glass of the window, steadily brightening the room as the sun peeps above the horizon to greet the Gibraltan watchpoint. It reveals a white and blue pulse rifle resting on the lone desk, empty canisters of biotic emitters sitting in an orderly row against the wall waiting to be refilled. Contrary to the care of the weapon, armour and articles of clothing lie strewn in a haphazard mess over the linoleum floor, though a long black leather coat is draped neatly over the backrest of the rickety chair. All is quiet as the sun climbs higher in the sky, its warming rays growing brighter and casting a beam of golden light from the window over the rumpled covers of an occupied bed.

Jack wakes when the patch of sunlight moves across the sheets to eventually hit his eyes. Even partially blind, he grumbles at the direct blaze of light, twisting away from it. Instantly, the firm weight resting on his waist curls around him and pulls him back.

“Stop fidgeting,” slurs Gabriel, voice gruffer than usual from sleep, tightening his hold on Jack and tangling their legs together to enunciate the point. Clad only in their briefs, Jack feels every point of contact like a warm brand as if he’s hugging a giant ceramic mug holding freshly made coffee. Almost too hot under the blankets and in the Gibraltan weather, but Jack refused to have it any other way.

Tucking his face into the base of Gabriel’s neck to shade his eyes from the sun, Jack mumbles into mottled dark and grey skin. “You’re not the one facing the window.”

“I told you last night to draw the curtains before getting into bed.”

“But you’re closer to them, why can’t you do it?” Jack drawls in a whine, pushing his palms into Gabriel’s chest

Gabriel murmurs something that could be an assent or retort, his words muffled as he presses his nose into Jack’s hair.

“You still using that shitty smelling shampoo after all these years?”

“You like this shitty smelling shampoo, shut up.”

Gabriel shifts to press a kiss to Jack’s receding hairline and Jack feels the smile against his temple. “It’s your only redeeming factor, cielo.”

Huffing in mock offense, Jack pulls Gabriel’s arm from his side and takes the hand into his, dark and pale contrasting in the morning light as they interlace their fingers. The red of Gabriel’s eyes are obvious even without his visor, looking like warm mulled wine with the way Gabriel is looking at him. Achingly tender and mesmerised, as if Jack was the most precious thing in the world.

“Love you,” says Jack, the words spoken under his breath like they were priceless treasures and he was afraid someone would come to steal them away. Gabriel leans forward to brush their foreheads together and Jack closes his eyes, smiling as a contented hum rumbles up his throat.

“Love you too,” Gabriel whispers back, their exchange kept quiet, a secret from the ever more curious sun pouring more light into their room. With their linked hands between their bare chests, the subdued sound of their breathing synchronised with one another, Jack wishes that this moment would last forever.

“Get up. My other arm is under your pillow.”

“I know.”

“You’ve been lying on it all night. It feels dead.”

“Close the curtains next time, asshole.”

“Farm boy.”

Jack smiles against Gabriel’s skin. Forever with Gabriel sounds nice.

Someday we will foresee obstacles Through the blizzard, through the blizzard