#is that he cut at my head so I did the guard to block the strike that was Supposed To Happen
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
SOFTER, SOFTEST !
ft. curly x fem!reader
tags. piv, body worship sort of, rimming, big dick, tit job for like 2 seconds, creampie, size kink, scent kink, balls…
note. hai.. will get back to leon soon and I think mw fandom is lacking noncon and incest fics severely.. so i will get on that with jimmy. don’t know how to characterise him yet so ooc .. just infatuated with his breasts tbh i don’t know anything works in this universe LMFAO like idk just take this with a grain of salt.. for miss @pupwashing please ignore typos !! unedited :3
You miss Curly.
You miss him more than you did yesterday, more than an idiot misses the point, like a dick misses a wet pussy–You just miss him.
It has been four months. Twenty-one weeks. One-hundred and forty days. Three-thousand, five-hundred and twenty hours. Too many minutes, a hell of a lot more seconds, the closer he gets the further he seems to be.
Big numbers make it feel like you’re getting nowhere so you cut those twenty-fours into one day. One day and he’ll be home. One day and you’ll be in bed with his stomach crushed against yours, the warmth of his flesh searing yours, fucking him into next year, until he loses his halo.
Videos aren’t enough, photos don’t do him justice, toys don’t live up to the feel of a real dick. You miss that face he makes when he cums - it’s a block away from his crying face. You miss him face down, ass up, punching holes into his dignity one thrust at a time. God, you miss that dick, how he goes red all over, him in nothing but that stupid fucking smile.
One day, you tell yourself in the mirror that morning. One day, you tell yourself when you take your lunch break. One day, one more microwaved meal for one, one more lonely night.
It used to be a big deal, you think. The whole going to space thing. Curly says it’s no big deal, but you’re pretty sure that in your great-grandpa’s heyday it was impressive. You’ve seen videos of hoards gathering to watch a ship take off, to greet crews when they landed. Today, it’s you and a plump, older woman in her bathrobe waiting in the cold.
You could spot him in any crowd, glowing like a ray of light, mostly because he’s tall, partly because everything fades into abstraction when you notice how tight his uniform is. Good god. Did he get bigger? You’re starting to sweat, it’s hard to focus when your boyfriend is making a long-sleeved jumpsuit look naughty.
Curly’s hair is a little longer, blond curls licking the nape of his neck, falling onto his forehead, his eyes are so bright and his smile is white. He looks like a policeman’s emotional support dog. A really busty support dog. He scans the sad scattering of friends, family and drivers. You’re so taken off guard by the sight of his buttons popping you almost forget to wave at him.
He beams when you spot him, suitcase dragging behind him as he jogs over. Everything is in slow motion. Like that old movie - Baywatch. He’s so excited to see you, taking you into his big arms, shoving your face in his chest like he knows just where you’d like to be. You’re disappointed in your lungs when they beg for air, lifting your head and placing it on his shoulder instead. He smells like sweat, hotel shampoo and something metallic.
“Oh.” You open your eyes and spot Jimmy skulking behind him, an unlit cigarette between his lips. You narrow your eyes at him, and Jimmy does the same. Real shady guy, the type you’d cross the street to avoid. He’s always trailing after Curly like a bad omen. “He can’t come home with us, honey,” you tell him gently, not wanting to sound like a bitch.
Which you are.
You don’t want him smoking in your car, you don’t want Curly to invite him over for takeout because that means it’ll go on for hours and you won’t get your mouth on his big, stupid dick for another day.
“Hm? Why not?” Curly asks, pressing a kiss into your hairline, the tip of his nose bumping yours tenderly.
“I don’t have space in my car for both of you and the luggage, she’s small. What if she tips over? You’re heavy enough as it is.” You smile at him, cheekily, giving his newfound hips a squeeze. They’ve always been there, but now they’re like wow. It’s only been four months, is he on steroids? Did he get pregnant? He is glowing… God knows what’s up there in the atmosphere, some cosmic horror waiting to knock up your poor boyfriend.
Curly shrugs, offering an apologetic smile to his friend. “You heard the lady.”
Jimmy’s permanent scowl seems to deepen, cementing itself in his dermal layer. “Whatever, man.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, shoulders slumped as he makes a beeline for the phonebox.
He lifts his suitcase and loads it into your car and you watch his biceps flex. You see through his clothes, you remember every freckle on his back, mapping them out like stars, leading to those dimples low on his back, the perfect resting spot for your thumbs when you grab his ass. His body is so convenient. Like he was made to be fucked every which way.
“I missed you, I thought about you everyday,” he says against your lips, leaning in to kiss you over the gearshift. “I put your picture in the cockpit actually, Jim didn’t like it, but it kept me going.”
Always so earnest. You almost feel bad for missing his body more than him.
“Aww, Curly, honey,” you coo, pinching his cheek and cupping the other, “I missed you even more.” He nuzzles into your hand, eyes closed as you comb your fingers through his messy hair.
As much as you would like to indulge his sentimentality, you have no patience to spare. If you sit here any longer, you’re going to soak through your jeans and onto your leather seat.
You put the car in drive—
“Captain? Open up!” There’s a younger man knocking on the window, leaving his grubby handprints behind. “I wanted you to meet my mom!” His voice is muffled through the glass.
You lock the windows.
“Did you lock the windows?” Curly asks, lips downturned like he’s about to pout.
You unlock the windows.
“Of course not, baby.” You pat his head and grit your teeth.
They talk for fifteen whole minutes.
Thank you for taking care of him, he can be such a handful—Oh no, not at all, he was a joy to have—I’m glad he came back in one piece—He’s a good kid—Oh, I don’t know about that—Mooom—I’d be happy to have him back for our next long haul—Seriously, Captain?—
You squirm in place, shifting from side to side, thighs pressed together as your panties stick to your core. When Curly introduces you to his crew mate, you offer a strained smile and nothing more.
The window whirs shut. You make it home in record breaking time with four tickets and only a few points taken off your license. It doesn’t matter. You’re home, inside with the curtains drawn and Curly still has clothes on.
That’s not right.
“Take it off.”
“Huh?” Curly pushes his luggage into the corner, the top few buttons of his jumpsuit have come undone and you see the tuft of blond hair on his chest.
“Take it off, please?”
“My clothes?”
“No, your wig, baby.”
He laughs, good-natured, mild-mannered, and so fucking hot.
If he won’t do it then you will.
“I haven’t even showered—“ He starts, but you shush him with a kiss, murmuring a ‘good’ against his pink mouth.
When you part, spit keeps your lips connected, the string of fate or whatever. You go in for another, hands fisting the fabric of his collar, forcing him down towards you. Curly lets out a keening noise somewhere in the back of his throat like a dog scratching at the bathroom door.
“I know, my baby, I’ll give it to you.” You pout at him, thumbing his kiss-swollen lips and watching his eyes droop. “Oh no…” The buttons on his uniform when you try to open them.
“It’s okay,” he mumbles through a mouthful of his own spit, “cheap stuff.”
“I know, but you looked so good in it.” It’s a shame, but you need to see him bare, sweat as his only accessory.
“You think?” He near bats his lashes at you, stepping out of his uniform, and you swoon.
“God, yeah.” You push him down on the couch, Curly falls back with a soft grunt. It’s not very big, especially for a man of his size, but it’ll do for now.
His cock swells in his boxers, you feel it beneath you as you sit atop him, admiring the view below. The wide expanse of his chest, the sweat pooling in his collarbones, those tits. You don’t know what else they could be.
“Wow.” You take a handful of his chest, plucking his puffy pink nipple. “Look at these, I might have some competition.”
“Shut it,” he huffs out a laugh through his nose, and the tips of ears redden.
“I’m serious, baby, you’re, like, huge.” You can’t tear your eyes away from his soft flesh, moulding beneath your fingertips like dough, you could fuck them if you really wanted. “What happened out there?”
“Had a lot of spare time, I guess.” Curly smiles sheepishly, expression contorting when you bend your neck to suck his nipple into your mouth with a wet pop! His jaw slackens, and his cock jumps like it’s been given quite the fright.
You only have one complaint. His tan lines have faded. Floating through the galaxy for months on end can do that to you. You miss them, but you missed Curly more, so you’ll make do with what you have.
And you have more than enough. More than you can handle really. You can’t even get a grasp on his bicep, he’s stupidly big and your hand is on the smaller side.
You shift backwards, wet cunt dragging over his impossibly big bulge where only his underwear keeps you from him - you kind of admire your pussy for being able to take it. Your mouth moves on, hands still groping as much as you can of his chest as you lick the ridges of his stomach, it’s like he’s forged out of marble.
Softly, Curly rubs the back of your head, trying his very best to keep his eyes on you and not let them fall shut. You feel his stomach muscles rippling under your tongue. They contract when you trace around his navel, placing a sloppy kiss just below it, where a patch of curly hair leads to his wet cock.
His cock is drooling through the white fabric of his boxers, they’re soaked enough to be see-through, you spot the fat, pink head that has been missing your kisses. “You’re so wet, baby, is it all for me?”
With a pitiful noise, he tosses his head back and nods sadly. It’s funny to hear a man of his stature whine, but it suits Curly so well.
Your fingers hook in the waistband, tugging his underwear downwards until his fat cock springs out, it’s so fucking fat it weighs itself down. The leaky head twitches, pre dripping down his thick shaft, leaving a moonlit trail to his heavy balls. So full of seed they might burst.
“Oh… Poor baby.” You give them a gentle squeeze, and Curly’s eyes roll back into his skull, hips jolting upwards.
The urge to take it into your mouth right then and there is tempting, you hold back, you want to take your time with him. Make him feel special. You seat yourself between his thighs, one leg thrown over your shoulder so it’s easier to fit on the sofa. Your thumb runs along his pink slit, dribbling out pearly strands of pre that web between your fingers. Curly whimpers, biting down on his fist.
“These are cute.” You take note of his meaty thighs, how they’ve only gotten bigger, a comfier place to sit. The stretch marks don’t go unnoticed, streaking purple and pink along the milky flesh of his inner thighs like faded brushstrokes.
“Mmmph.” He blinks at you, pouty, lashes wet with impatient tears.
“Yeah, mmmph, I know, baby, be patient.” You’re a big, fat hypocrite.
His scent is stronger down here, clean and soapy, but the tang of sweat prospers, and the underlying smell of him. The smell of his pillow, the smell of his few-days old clothes, the smell of his towel after he works out.
A few more kisses here and there, using the flat of your tongue to lave over strips of his sinewy skin, leaving him spit-slicked and breathless and flushed. You hoist his other leg over your shoulder, he’s heavy, but you’re horny and it’s given you a sudden burst of vitality.
“Fuck,” he gasps out, gripping the top of the couch, one arm over his face as you lick up the seam of his balls, mouth latching to the swollen underside, where they feel heaviest.
Curly’s cock leaks into your hair, the weight brings it down to rest on your face, tip pressed into your hairline, dripping down the bridge of your nose like sweat while you make a mess of his balls. Stuffing them into your mouth one at a time, using your hand to give the lonelier one a squeeze when your lips are kissing up on another.
The kiss to his perineum is enough to make him moan. Curly knows what’s coming. You go lower, nose nestled into his balls, breathing him while your hands spread his ass cheeks apart to get to the spot you love most.
Curly’s hole is darker than the rest of him, not quite pink like his cock, ruddier. He’s tight and he smells good. So good. You’ve never minded the hair, you think it’s pretty cute. Curtains match the drapes.
Affectionately, you kiss his puffy rim, and it throbs.
He lets out a groan that is half mortified and half ready-to-blow-his-load.
“Sure,” Curly says, voice breaking as you circle his hole with the tip of your tongue. He tastes like him, musky and sweet and coppery. Curly is home and your tongue is in his ass where it belongs, wriggling its way past his pulsing rim, hopefully all the way up into his heart.
Your thumb and middle finger stretch to meet around the girth of his cock, stroking him slowly as you work open his asshole, tongue pushing back in when he pushes you out. Once you deem him wet enough, you push a single finger knuckle-deep and he cries out, hips bucking up off the couch.
Much to his dismay, which he shows in the form of a pained whimper, your hand leaves his cock to splay over his stomach and hold him down to the best of your abilities. “You have to stay still, honey.”
You feed a second finger into him, his hole squelching as you curl them inside of him. Curly clenches tight enough to cut off your blood circulation, sucking you back in when you ultimately pull them out with a lewd noise. He opens his mouth on instinct, pupils so blown out his light eyes seem dark, you push your fingers down his throat and he sucks.
“You’re so cute,” you mumble, watching him intently, he’s like a pin-up model of some sort. An X-rated action figure. “Taste good?”
“Not really,” Curly says. He’s so honest it makes you laugh. He shuffles back to rest his head on the arm of the couch, cock bobbing, still leaking like nobody’s business, leaving little droplets of wet in its wake.
It’s ready to burst, but you’re not done with him yet. You haven’t had your fill. When you spend half your time with your head between his thighs, you miss out on all the faces he pulls. So you spit on your tits to get them wet, his cock is slick enough, nothing should chafe when you squeeze his cock between them.
“Christ,” Curly grits out, brows knitting together, the second coming and he hasn’t even had his first.
“You wanna cum like this?” You ask, kneading your tits on either side of his cock, each time the tip pops up past your cleavage, it bumps your chin and leaves it slick.
“No…” He shakes his head, curls bouncing, sticking to his forehead, the hair near his nose is curlier with the added sweat. “Inside.”
“I can do that for you, babe.” You smile at him, acting like that wasn’t your plan in the first place, like you haven’t been dying for a warm creampie since he landed back on earth. You give the fat head of his dick one sloppy kiss, making sure to tongue his slit before you clamber on top of him.
It should be an easy task to get him inside, you’ve been wet for the last twenty-four hours, your pussy is throbbing like it’s got a heartbeat. Slick dries on your inner thighs and your clit is buzzing, a rush of arousal passes over you like a cold wave when you lift your hips to guide his dick into you.
Oh. Wow. That’s a stretch. 
In theory, you know big Curly’s dick is. It’s a fucking horsecock, and you have eyes bigger than your stomach. You always overestimate yourself. You think you’re gonna be just fine, then his fat tip breaches your little hole, no matter how wet, and you lose it, scrambling to grasp his shoulders as your body is racked with shivers.
Curly’s kind enough to steady you, big hands finding purchase on your hips. His needy noises get through to you, and you push on, sliding down and taking him to the hilt. His dick curves upwards into your cervix, rubbing the fleshy opening as you adjust to his dick after four whole months of nothing worthwhile.
He’s so big. You’re so wet, slippery pussy slicking up his cock, and making things easier for the both of you.
“I love you.” Curly shudders, looking right into your eyes like he’s afraid to blink and miss a single thing.
“I love you too,” you tell him, eyes on his tits.
He’s so deep, feet planted on the couch as he fucks into you, unable to help himself. You get it. You’re tight, warm, and wet. Better than his fist. Your pussy is noisy, squelching each time you bottom you, grinding your clit into his pelvis, feeling his cock twitch each time you tighten around him. The plap of his balls hitting your ass when enough momentum is built up.
Curly’s helpful, when he sees you tense up, throwing your head back and rolling your hips over and over, you want him deeper and deeper, he wets his fingers with your slick and rubs figure eights into your clit.
It’s just enough to make your toes curl—Oh, who are you kidding? You near blackout when you cum, moaning so loud you scare yourself. You see black. Like someone’s drawn the curtains in your mind, ending the show. Your nails dig into his skin, but he’s always put up with that like a champ.
“Holy fuck.” Shaking still, you blink to clear your vision, you’ve wet his navel and his tummy and the couch might be ruined. You don’t even remember when he came inside you. What a shame. Feels good though, still warm. Sighing, you lay against his chest, Curly’s soft cock slips out of your hole, resting on his thigh. “Welcome home, Captain.”
#curly mouthwashing smut#curly smut#captain curly x reader#captain curly smut#mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing x you#mouthwashing smut#curly x reader#mouthwashing curly x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Who’s the bad guy here, really?
(This is pretty rushed, but I completely forgot about this and didn't want to abandon it. Hope you like it)
Danny was tired.
It had been 3 months since he ran away from home and joined the league…well technically he joined the JR league. Apparently, once the league realized he was actually a 15 year old, they decided that MAYBE they shouldn't have him fighting Bizarro on his own.
Danny didn’t get it, but they got him enrolled in school and made sure he wouldn’t miss too many classes so that was a bonus.
That was about a month ago and Danny was certain the main team was mad at him for lying about being a half ghost. He thought he made some real friends before they moved him to the Jr squad, but no one was answering him.
Any hero that DID answer him always gave the same excuse.
“I’m sorry Danny, I’d love to hang out but we have to deal with this new villain duo!”
What’s worse is that any enquiry about the so-called villains was greeted with nervous glances and swift retreats.
(Danny was sure there were no new villain, the team would have heard about them by now)
The team did their best to cheer him after every evasion, but it really wasn't helping.
He did this to himself, but that was fine. His family was safe and that's all that mattered.
Three months ago, the GIW launched an all out war against phantom in amity park. Anyone that was suspected of having anything to do with ghosts was taken in for questioning and wouldn't come back for days. They even started to get aggressive towards his parents after they started advocating for Phantom.
So Danny did the only thing he could.
He left, as publicly as possible, Danny ran away from the only home he had ever known to protect his family.
And now his friends had ditched him because he lied.
Danny felt like shit.
---------
"This is the third attack on a League base in 2 weeks." Batman said sternly to the heroes surrounding the table. He pressed a button.
A holograph appeared over the table depicting 2 Villains carrying large weapons, destroying everything in their wake. The 2 were incredibly resilient. The larger of the two was taking hits from wildcat and the smaller tossed canary across the room, completely ignoring her screams.
Both had been stationed at the outpost to guard against these exact 2 villains, and both were still recovering.
Their threat level was raised, now it was their turn to step in.
-------
Danny dragged himself out of bed as he got up early for training. He heard a knock at the door.
"Come in." He shouted as he put on his shirt.
Conner walked in, scowling as he saw some of the scars littering Danny's chest.
"You ready? We're training with Batman today."
Danny scoffed. "Ready? No. No one's ready for Batman, I am excited though.
The two headed towards the dining room to eat before training when suddenly the alarms blared. They rushed to the comm room, meeting up with M'gann on the way.
"What's going on?!" She asked, bracing herself as the base shook.
"No idea, whatever it is its not good."
As they rushed into the comm room they greeted by the sight of a woman fighting hand to hand with Batman. Superman was on the floor covered in green goop while a large man was getting ready to toss Green Arrow across the room.
The teens stood in shock. Though only one spoke.
Well, maybe spoke wasn't the right word.
"MOM?!?!? DAD?!?!" Danny yelled.
The man spun around suddenly, casually tossing green arrow across the room.
"DANNO!!! MADDIE ITS DANNY!!!"
The man raced over, only to be cut off by the Flash blocking his path.
"Danny, run! We'll hold them off, just get out of here!"
Danny stood there dumbfounded.
His dad on the other hand, wasn't.
"You stay away from my son you damn creep!" He shouted as the Flash charged him, somehow not noticing the man pull out...a baseball bat?
Danny winced as flash got hit with the Fenton anti-creep stick.
"Dad! Stop! They're my friends!" He tried to placate his dad.
"Friends don't convince you to run away from home to join a cult!" He then noticed the other two teens. "Holy Fudge! MADDIE THERES MORE KIDS!!!" He shouted as his wife held off the creep from Gotham.
"Dad! The League didn't make me leave! And it isn't a cult!"
This made the man pause.
"I left to protect you guys! The GIW was gonna come for you, so I led them away! I only joined the league so I could keep helping people!" Danny yelled.
The orange-clad man stopped, giving his son a sad look.
"It's not your job to protect us son, it's our job to protect you." He said picking his son up and wrapping him in a bear hug.
Conner just stood there confused as M'gann clapped and grinned out the outcome.
"Now can you tell mom to stop trying to mace Batman?" Danny asked when his dad put him down. The two turned to the fighting duo.
"Let's give them 5 more minutes. Your mom hasn't had this much fun since she ditched that cult in Asia."
(Feel free to take this idea and run with it. I like the idea that the fentons are a force of nature that defies explanation..but Maddie definitely stole their early ecto samples from the lazarus pit)
715 notes
·
View notes
Text
Winter Gem
Thranduil x Female Elf Reader
Content & Warnings: soft!Thranduil, widowed!Thranduil, fluff, peril & rescue, mild hurt/comfort
Word Count: 1.8k
Seeking something precious for Thranduil, you're caught in a storm. When you don't return, he goes searching for you.
A/N: For @firelightinferno
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist
“The first snows have arrived.”
“It has come early.”
Thranduil inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Indeed.”
You stand beside Thranduil outside the main gates. Five guards stand nearby but there is no danger. A steady snowfall drifts down from the sky. The snowflakes are slightly gray in appearance, almost like ash on the wind. You frown down at a few of the flakes that land on your leather vambrace.
“You look ready for your hunt,” observes Thranduil, gesturing toward your attire with the tip of his head.
“Yes,” reply softly. “I plan on heading out for a bit.”
His eyebrows rise toward his hairline. “In this weather?”
You glance up from the vambrace and meet his blue eyes. Thranduil’s gaze is startling and sharp. Piercing. Intense. It cuts right down to your heart. His gaze always holds you hostage, wrapping you up in his essence. Most might find Thranduil intimidating, but you know better.
“Is my king telling me I cannot?” You’re teasing him, and Thranduil knows this. His smile is one of soft amusement.
“As long as you return to me. You are free to do as you wish.” Even though Thranduil’s tone is gentle, you understand the deeper meaning.
Thranduil lost his wife many years ago. Other than his son, Legolas, you are his comfort. He wants you to be free, to enjoy the pleasures of life, but he also wants you to be safe, to return to him at the end of every leaving.
Thranduil glances over his shoulder. The guards on duty discreetly glance away, staring off into the distance as if they’ve suddenly found something of great interest. Thranduil leans in and shifts his body to block their view of you. He is close enough that it might appear that the two of you are kissing, but he does not meet your lips.
In the end, Thranduil is private about affection. He does not like to share your tender moments together in front of others.
“Enjoy your hunt. I eagerly await your return.”
You give him a half-hearted, sarcastic bow that immediately puts a wide smile on his face. Thranduil watches you until you disappear into the trees. Perhaps he lingers longer than that, wondering if you will turn around and come back to him.
It is true. You are on a hunt, but not for what he or anyone else is likely expecting.
Over a week ago, Thranduil went out in the woods with some of the guards on patrol. It’s the first time he’s been out beyond the walls in some time. Many patrols that ventured into the northern regions reported back on a strangeness in the air, and the scent of evil. Thranduil decided to investigate.
While tracking, he lost something precious.
Around his neck on a chain, Thranduil kept a silver ring. Within the ring is a precious gem, a blue stone so pale it almost appears white like a burning star. The chain that held it snapped while he and the guards chased a group of spiders that had made their way south.
He remembered it snagging, and while he did not show any distress upon telling you of its disappearance, you also know how much that ring and jewel means to him. It was a gift from his wife when they were newly married. She had a matching one, but upon her death, Thranduil moved it from his finger to around his neck.
This hunt—your hunt—is about that ring. You have a fairly good idea about where it might have fallen, and there is no reason for it to have moved since then. Few enter these woods unless they follow the road, and that is on rare occasions.
Tracking is your specialty, and your time is not limited due to the falling snow. But you’ve tracked in worse weather. The snow is unfortunate, but you can still search as long as it remains at its current pace. The tree cover will keep much of the snow in the higher canopy. There will be time yet before the snow completely covers the ground and you lose the trail.
Heading north, you retrace the path the patrol took. Yes, a week has passed, and nature reclaims much, but not everything is hidden so quickly. There are small disturbances that indicate the path ahead.
As you begin to draw nearer to the area Thranduil mentioned, the snow starts to pick up. It becomes thicker, not staying above in the canopy but instead making its way to the ground. It’s not ideal, but you can manage.
Thranduil mentioned two tree trunks growing together and then breaking apart. When you happen upon it, the snow comes down in thicker sheets. On the ground, it’s sticking. Collecting. Time is running out. Elves have good eyes, and you focus in on the ground, gnarled roots, and underbrush.
Near the base of the tangled tree, you notice a slight sparkle. Approaching it, you go down on one knee, brushing away some of the snow.
“Found you.”
The ring is there, resting in the roots. It appears undamaged, and that is a relief. Picking it up, you tuck it into an inside pocket, protecting it from the elements.
The snow crunches under your boots, and the wind howls. For the first time, you shiver. Cold is not and has never been an issue. Elves can withstand a great many things, including winter weather.
Frowning, you turn into the chilly wind. There is a disturbance. Something dark and foul. It sets the edges of your nerves tingling. A simmering suspicion bubbles up from somewhere within you, question whether this snow is natural or not.
Turning on your heel, you head back the way you came. But the snow is heavy, and your fresh tracks are starting to slip away, returning to the snow. As you walk, the snowfall becomes a storm. The wind whips up, swirling the snow around until you cannot see more than a few feet in front of your face.
Your instincts were right. This storm is not natural. It is too early for it, and storms like these are rare in the Woodland Realm.
The toe of your boot catches in a downed tree branch and you slam face first into the snow. It’s freezing. Temperature isn’t usually a deterrent for the elves, but this is beyond cold. It’s as if you’ve been swallowed whole by a massive glacier.
You walk and walk, and you have no idea if you’ve gained any ground. There are no visible signs, and you’re not sure how far you’ve gone, or if you’re simply walking in circles. The snow is deepening or perhaps you’re imagining it. Everything seems darker, like the world is closing in.
You’re not dressed for this sort of weather.
And you’re tired. So tired. Your knees and thighs burn, and sitting down for some rest doesn’t seem so bad. It’s fine. You can take refugee within the deep roots of a tree. You can stay warm there until the snow dissipates. Then, you can return. Thranduil will understand.
As if opening for you, the roots of a nearby tree expand, showing safety from the storm. You slink into it, curling up into a ball.
You drift in the howling wind. There is a haze that sits on your eyelashes. Whether you dream or not is irrelevant. Numbness oozes into your limbs, and that only forces you to curl up tighter, wanting to pull away from the cold.
A hand touches the side of your head. It is warm. Gentle. The fingers slide up to brush your hair out of your face. You hear your name but it is a whisper. Distant. So far away it doesn’t seem real.
There are arms around you. Lifting. Steady. And when you inhale, the scent is familiar. You know who it is instantly.
“Thranduil,” you murmur, and the answer is a gentle squeeze of your hand.
“I found you, my star.”
There are only short moments of consciousness. There is snow. Cold. The antlers of an elk. The gates of home, and then warmth. So much warmth that the numbness begins to recede.
You are brought back to the living world near a roaring fire. Beneath you is a makeshift bed comprised of pillows and soft blankets. You shift, and feel bare skin against bare skin. Slowly, you push yourself to sitting.
Your leather gear is gone, replaced with a soft robe that traps in the heat.
“You’re awake.” Thranduil’s voice is a gentle, comforting hug.
Turning toward his voice, you watch as he glides across the floor. Thranduil wears silver robes of starlight. In his hands in a small tray. On it is a steaming cup of tea and an assortment of food. Bending at the knees, Thranduil settles in beside you, placing the tray down on the blankets.
“You came looking for me,” you say, and your voice nearly cracks with emotion.
“Did you think I would not?” he asks, arranging the food around on the tray.
You know, deep in your heart, that Thranduil would come, but you also believed in your abilities as a tracker. “When did you start to worry?”
Thranduil lifts the cup off the tray and presents it to you. “When the storm picked up. Something about it felt unnatural.” You take it, and bring the warm beverage to your lips. “I gathered some guards and we set out. It is good that we found you in time.” He pauses. “I’m not sure my heart could take any more loss.”
The heat of the tea spreads throughout your body, the chill slipping away quickly. “I do believe you are correct. That storm was not natural.”
Thranduil nods. “There is a growing darkness to the north. The scouts on patrol have spoken of it often but have been unable to get close enough for more details.”
“Perhaps I strayed too close,” you murmur.
“Perhaps,” replies Thranduil, reaching out to take your hand. He lifts it, and brings it into his lap. Using both hands, he rotates your wrist until your palm faces the ceiling. Then, he guides your open palm to his lips, placing a soft kiss in the middle of it.
Instant warmth shoots out from that spot, running down your arm and piercing your heart like an arrow. Slowly, he curls your fingers in, creating a loose fist, and then brushes his lips against your knuckles before pulling away.
He does not release your hand. “I know why you left.”
“Thranduil—”
“You did not need to explain. I understand why.” Thranduil reaches out and cups your cheek, turning your face toward him. “I am thankful that you found it, but you are also precious to me, and losing you is a far greater loss.”
You turn into his touch. “That ring is important to you.”
“Many things are important to me. But the ring is just that. A thing. You are breathing. You are here. I would like to keep it that way.”
Your eyes drift close and you revel in the warmth of his touch. “Are you mad?”
“Never.”
“Will you hold me?”
“For as long as you like.”
taglist:
@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @ninman82 @therealbloom
#thranduil#thranduil x reader#thranduil fanfiction#thranduil x you#thranduil imagine#thranduil fluff#thranduil fanfic#thranduil fic#thranduil x female reader#thranduil x f!reader#thranduil x fem!reader#the hobbit fanfic#the hobbit fanfiction#the hobbit fic#the hobbit imagine#the hobbit thranduil#lotr fluff#lotr fic#lotr fanfic#lotr fanfiction#lord of the rings fic#lord of the rings fanfic#lord of the rings fanfiction#the hobbit movies
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sebastian x Reader: i love you, it's ruining my life (One Shot)
Plot | Sebastian has the worst insomnia known to man and you are not dating him. Tags | none, fluff, slytherin!reader, bad english accent attempt by me, repressed feelings, unhealthy attachment, codependency, teenagers trying to process trauma together, mentions of nightmares, they are both 17 years old [A/N : FUCK JK ROWLING!!!!!!! Also I just needed to write something and somehow a depressed Slytherin boy was just the one to cure my insane writer's block. Enjoy!]
I am not dating Sebastian Sallow, is what you kept saying yet no one seems to ever believe you. Even Natty, bless her kind soul, gave you a look so incredulous as the words went out of your mouth that you couldn’t help but be confused yourself -- were you dating Sebastian?
“I’m not trying to be nosy, my friend. I’m just concerned.”
“About what?” This has been the third person this month with that same irritating expression on their face. Pity.
“I thought … you were always together that I just assumed there was … something.”
You blinked, trying not to let your face slip, afraid that your ever observant friend would read too much into each emotion.
“Well, there’s nothing. So you and the others can –”
“There are others?!”
You widened her eyes, telling Natty to drop it and she wisely did. “The rest of you can stop reporting his rendezvous to me. Understood?”
“There you are!”
Merlin, will the cruel gods of fate ever give you a break?
The deep voice from the door cut through half of the conversations in your table as Sebastian jogged towards you. “Morning, pet.”
He casually grabbed your head gently, pressing a kiss on top of it, before settling down by straddling the chair so he was facing you. “Hey Natty, got lost?”
It wasn’t unheard of for students to not stick to the assigned tables on their houses but it was still odd, especially for someone like Natty who much preferred the company of like-minded people. Always said that the quiet and whispers in the Slytherin table made her uneasy.
Natty looked from you, to him, to the arms that was hidden under the table but was no doubt placed on your waist, subtly but insistently pulling you closer. You silently pleaded for her to ignore it which she thankfully did with a sigh.
“Not at all, Sebastian. Just trying to keep our friend company before you undoubtedly steal her away for the day.”
He didn’t even pretend to be offended by the accusation, only chuckling good-heartedly. “You can be welcome to tag along just for today.”
“Wouldn’t want to intrude. And with the trouble the two of you get into I’d be grounded by my mother for the rest of my life.”
The three of them laughed at that. The conversation thankfully flowing easier and away from the initial topic. Once Ominis arrived and Poppy was called over it was like fifth-year again. The initial circle you had formed has always been a source of comfort, no longer having to have your guard up all the time especially as easy conversation flowed between each other.
“I got some new books for you, just got delivered an hour ago. We should read it tonight.”
You fed him a piece of bread in your hands, knowing that his growing appetite has not been satiated by the plate he made for himself but he would be too lazy to make a new one and would just rather take bits and pieces from your own. “Just for me, huh?”
He grabbed a tuft of grapes before feeding you one as well before he demolished the entire thing. You couldn’t help but giggle when he spat out a small branch that managed to sneak into his mouth.
“It’s that new muggle series you love, paid off one of Ominis’ servant to line for it so you wouldn’t have to sneak out of Hogwarts like I know you had planned to tonight.”
You could feel your face heating up at the fact that he knew you too damn well. “You know I don’t like you spending money on me, Sebastian.”
“Well, you’re gonna be reading it to me so technically I’m spending money for me.”
You gave him a look but he quickly evaded it by feeding you another pair of grapes.
Sebastian had been haunted by nightmares after last year’s events. Ones so bad that the nurse feared he would be a bit too dependent on sleeping potions at such a young age. Thankfully, the two of you had found a solution together, after a late night studying in the Undercroft reading your notes aloud hoping it would stick into your head a bit better – you had turned to find your companion snoring away beside you.
At first, the two of you thought it was the history lesson that put him right to slumber so you borrowed tons of history books in the library for him to read before he slept but an enchanted note later and you were dragging your sleepy self and a blanket out of your chambers as you read about the History of Magic in his bed.
It was that night that you had been eternally grateful that he had no other roommate but Ominis. Especially when you found out that Sebastian was apparently a horrible koala when asleep.
“That’s just –”
“What are you two whispering about?”
You actually jumped, pushing Sebastian away as if the soft voice behind them reminded you of how they had actually drifted closer than what was appropriate.
“Arieta,” Sebastian greeted her with a raised brow, seemingly confused why the Ravenclaw was this far off the room not even all that affected that his new girlfriend just caught him being a bit too comfortable with another girl.
“Sebby!” she shrieked prettily, quickly recovering and pulling on his arm. “We have History of Magic together, remember? You know I can’t survive that class without your shoulder to sleep on.”
She can hear Ominis choke on a laugh yet Arieta shot you a look like it was your fault.
“I, uh,” Sebastian turned to your table, now fully aware that everyone was staring at him with various expression on their faces. “Right, let’s go.”
Ever the gentleman, Sebastian was quick to grab the books in Arieta’s arm as she held on to his hand and dragged him towards the doors.
“Arieta, huh, wouldn’t have pegged her as territorial one,” Natty chuckled, you chucked a grape at her. “What? I am only speaking my mind. Might have to watch out for that one or she might just drag poor Sebastian away from –”
Just before she finished her sentence Sebastian came bounding down the path once again stopping just beside you, catching his breath. “Hey, you’re mine tonight, okay? No adventures.”
His wording left so much to be misinterpreted that even Poppy’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, damn near resembling those mooncalfs she loves so much.
"I stand corrected," Natty muttered.
“Sebby!” Arieta screamed at the end of the hallway.
Merlin’s beard.
“I’m coming!” He threw her an impatient look before holding on to your chin so you were looking at him and forcing you to nod. “No adventures.”
This time the embarrassment of the absolute mess that was unfolding before your unfinished breakfast have overwhelmed your brain that you could only nod with him.
“No adventures.”
Sebastian smiled, one of those real, bright ones that makes your body malfunction and your heart to stop beating. Pressing one last kiss on the top of your head and managing to wave to your shared friends he was off and gone through the double doors.
The entire table was left in silence and you had hoped they would let this go but Natty couldn’t give you that mercy as she cleared her throat.
“Well, now I got even more questions.”
You’re not dating Sebastian Sallow you just think about him a lot.
You weren’t as daft as the rest of them have probably assumed. You did think there was a lot more than friendship between Sebastian and you. But with all the things that the two of you had been through it was difficult to pinpoint what it exactly was aside from their unusually intense loyalty to each other.
Was it a trauma bond? Was it just their kindred spirits refusing to let the one soul who understood them go? Did everything that they went through, the secrets they keep, the curses they threw to protect each other become the bloody ribbon that held the unhealthy attachment they had to each other? It could be love. But it could be a whole lot more complicated than that.
That’s what they were. They were complicated.
After the nightmare that was your fifth year the two of you had kept to yourselves with Ominis in tow, trying to keep as low as profile as possible and give your poor professors a break. With your newfound infamy as the ‘Hero of Hogwarts’ (blergh) and the dark secret you three were desperately keeping for Sebastian, the best you could hope for was to blend in with the rest of the nameless students in Hogwarts.
That agreement got shot into hell when your dear friend Sebastian Sallow proved to be one of the best beaters in Hogwarts’ long, long history. It was a dare that exploded in your own face to try out and irritate Imelda but when he had accidentally proven to be a bit too good at it their mutual friend clutched at him with her demanding claws and put him through the ringer until he got spat out decent enough to be one of the soldiers to secure the honor of their noble house and win the Quidditch cup this year.
Piled on top of that development was his connection to the Gaunt family, the Hero of Hogwarts, and the rumor of his hefty trust fund waiting for him the moment he turns 18 – Sebastian Sallow, just as the gods intended, became the most eligible bachelor of his age.
And thus your hell begun.
The silent charm he always had with him grew with his stature. He clearly enjoyed the attention after having hid his pretty bloody face behind dangerous books all year last year that it was almost like he was compensating for the hearts he could’ve broken. Every moon it was a different girl looped around his arms and every month it was a different friend reporting to you that your presumed ‘boyfriend’ was found snogging a goddamn Gryffindor in the Three Broomsticks.
It was annoying, confusing, and you were getting sick of it.
“Over here.”
Before you could find the source of the voice you knew all too well, a door had already opened and you were quickly pulled into an empty room – well, room was being generous as it was more of a storage space than anything.
“Sebastian!”
“Shh,” you gawked when his opened palm muffled your voice as he firmly presses it on your mouth. The unmistakable sounds of footsteps and a softer call of his name echoed the hallway outside the door. When the footsteps faded and disappeared, he had the nerve to give you a lopsided grin that turned your face red in irritation. Definitely in irritation.
Nothing quite like being forced to face the boy who had been running around your head all day.
“Sorry bout that, pet,” he chuckled, leaning on the wall an arms-length way from you. “I’m not too good with break-ups, especially when they say no.”
“Must be horrifying,” you sniped shortly, also pressing your back on the nearest wall to give you as much space as possible – it would just be absolutely mortifying to faint because your heart was beating too fast it was like it was trying to escape. “Are you gonna explain why you’ve kidnapped me in this dingy room?”
“Come on now, don’t be short with me. I just wanted to hang out with you ‘s all.”
“You want to hang out with me …. Inside a closet?”
He shrugged, “I never see you anymore these days.”
Ah, the nightmares must be back. She tries to swallow down the bitter taste in her mouth.
“That’s not my fault, Sebastian.”
At least he looked guilty. And absolutely miserable.
In the few weeks you had taken your eyes off him it would seem he had another growth spurt. Do boys just not stop growing ever? Looking up at him was starting to get painful. Plus, all those drills they run to prepare for every game had done nothing but well for his physique. You couldn’t help but run your eyes to his broad chest and shoulders before you caught yourself and nearly screamed in horror.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” Rough hands grabbed one of yours. He bent his knees so he could look in your eyes as you now outright refuse to meet his, in anger for the absolute shit friend he had been the past months or in embarrassment that you so casually checked him out you’re not quite sure. “I … I got distracted but I missed you. You know I prefer your company over any other.”
Those damned brown eyes, not even the poor light in the windowless room could dull its effect on you. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”
Your harsh words did not match with the growing smile on your face you failed to suppress. He mirrored your grin, “Do you still have classes?”
You shook your head.
He damn near vibrated in glee. Merlin, you did miss him.
“Let me steal you away.”
In a flash, Sebastian grabbed a hold of your hand to survey the hall one last time before dragging you out of the room and into the nearest Floo. You barely caught the surprise and anger in his ex-girlfriend’s eyes as she gawked by the stairs before you got swallowed up by a green flash of powder.
“Boathouse.”
You’re not dating Sebastian Sallow because this is definitely not a date.
You wouldn’t think the Boathouse would be a romantic place but with the lack of students, the dimming sun and a gorgeous boy leading you in the inside of it for privacy – you couldn’t help but think that anyone who would pass by would be well within their right to think you had become another notch in Sebastian Sallow’s belt.
You’re not sure how you feel about that. A greater witch would’ve been offended but maybe you’re no better than the knots in his belt.
“Sit here.”
Sebastian spread out a worn-out black robe on the ground, patting on it expectantly. Before you could do it yourself, he was already kneeling beside you and removing your shoes and socks. The intimate act forced you to hold your breath, making sure you controlled your face so your jaw doesn’t fall to the floor as he slowly pulled on your socks, gently plopping them on the edge and letting the Black Lake’s water tickle your feet as they dangled.
When you were settled, he nonchalantly laid his head down on your lap. Gods, help you.
“Comfortable, aren’t you?”
He made a dramatic noise of satisfaction, even wiggling in your lap to show his assent. A giggle slipped out of your mouth at the absolute gall of him, your hands naturally falling in his soft, thick, brown hair to play with it.
“What had you been up to, pet?” he mumbles, eyes never leaving your face although you find yourself unable to do the same as you opted to look around the architecture of the Boathouse you rarely visit.
“Nothing much,” you shrugged. “Although I did find that swimming in the Forbidden Forest’s Lake was surprisingly relaxing.”
He hummed, not even surprised at your little antics when you leave his line of sight. The boy had definitely pulled you out of worse situations than roaming around the Forbidden Forest. “You should take me some time. Merlin knows relaxing is what I need.”
A scoff escaped your mouth as you rolled your eyes.
“Yeah, right after I duel your newest girlfriend for the honor of getting to take you out.”
He poked your side at that, “As entertaining that would be you know all you have to do is send me an owl and I’d trek up to Maurenweem for you.”
Your face clearly showed you didn't believe him and he frowned. Carefully, you ran a finger in-between his brows where a frown formed to relax it.
At this angle you could see the toll the sleepless nights he must’ve been having had on him. If the bags on his eyes was any indication it must’ve been a few nights now. You ran your hands on his hair earning you a satisfied hum as he dangled his hand on the edge of the ledge to play with the water below.
“When was the last time you slept?”
He popped one eye open but your gentle touch proved too much as he closed it again with an even longer hum. “A few hours last night.”
“You should’ve woken me up.”
He gently shook his head, grabbing your free hand so he can hold it by his stomach.
“I didn’t wanna bother you.”
“Oh please, Sebastian.”
He chuckled at that, gripping on your hand tightly as he let out a heavy breath. “The nightmares … I thought it’s been better. Barely had any a few months ago. But now it’s just gotten worse.”
The confession broke your heart. Sebastian was not a vulnerable person; despite his usually easy and cheerful demeanor he was quick to wall himself in at the first sign of trouble. You would bet galleons of gold he still feels horrible of all the things he put you through and it was truly in desperation when he had called you over to help him through his insomnia. Which was also why you had welcomed the responsibility with open arms.
“Care to tell? Is it still about Anne?”
His estranged twin has been forefront of most of his darkest nightmares but he shook his head again and for that you were thankful he was spared that at least. “Solomon? Ominis?”
He opened his eyes; it was full of overflowing guilt and fear. And when it seemed he could no longer keep it to himself he sighed, “It’s about you. That’s the reason why I couldn’t …”
The revelation had your blood freezing. “What?”
He sat up, now facing you and taking both of your hands. “I’m only telling you this because you are my best friend and to remind you that none of this is ever your fault. You haven’t done a thing wrong, in fact, I can’t think how I would’ve gotten past any of this if it wasn’t for you.”
You held on to his hands tighter. “Sebastian, you’re scaring me.”
He shook his head, pulling you closer as if to comfort. Why was he comforting you when it was him who had been terrorized by this dream version of you. It was irrational to be mad but how could you not be when apparently you had become one of his problems while you were simultaneously desperately trying to fix it.
A palm on your cheeks pulled you out of your self-loathing.
“All of my dreams … it was of the people I love leaving me. Anne never forgiving me for the rest of my life, Ominis turning me in …”
“Oh, Sebastian,” you buried a sob on the crook of his neck, your hand roping around his back so you can rub on his back comfortingly while he lets everything out.
“And … and every time it happens my brain drives itself insane thinking of plans of what I would do if those nightmares came true. That’s the reason why I couldn’t sleep.” You looked up at him through your lashes but never leaving your spot even as he brings your legs out of the water and over his until you were in his lap.
“But then … they turned to you.” His voice dropped so low you almost shivered. “And for the life of me I just couldn’t … see an out of that. If I lost you – If you gave up on me I … I think I’d turn myself in Azkaban myself.”
“Sebastian I would never –”
“I know that,” he whispered. “But I still can’t – I can’t let it go. I can’t let go of these doubts and fear.”
This time he rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “That’s why I keep hanging out with all those girls.”
You raised your head in confusion, taking a better look at him.
“I thought if I loved you less, my nightmares would be kinder.”
The breath got caught in your throat. What is he – does he mean –
“But I couldn’t do that either,” He sighed, rubbing a hand on his face, clearly frustrated. “So I’ve decided. I’d rather go insane, let the nightmares do their worst because I am done pretending I don’t love you. I’m done avoiding you, I’m done pretending you aren’t the only light in my life. I’m done. And I love you.”
A fully grown crying Mandrake could drop from the sky and you don’t think you would’ve heard it over your own heart. You could barely comprehend anything but that his grip on your waist was so tight it was almost painful and that his pleading, terrified eyes was in the perfect angle that the late dying sun made it look like it was in a golden fire.
And that Sebastian Sallow … is in love with you. Just as madly as you were with him.
“I’m not forcing you into anything. I needed to let it out. If you want, I fully intend to formally court you until –”
“I love you.” You could no longer bear to put him in such misery. As long as you were alive, he would not question the adoration you’ve felt for him that just kept growing since the first day he had taken you to Hogsmeade. “I love you, Sebastian.”
Just for a moment there was quiet then he burst out laughing. “Thank you, darling." His body visibly shuddered as he sighed in relief, burying his face in your chest. "I’ve already planned to throw myself off the highest cliff in Hogwarts if this had gone south.”
You wrapped your hands around his neck, accepting the gentlest kisses on your neck. “Don’t say that. I plan to be your girlfriend for a very long time.”
His body shook from laughing, this time a kiss under your jaw, “Not that long I hope?”
You frowned, pulling away from him, though his unrelenting hold prevented much space to be in between the two of you. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” his thumbs rubbed circles on your thigh, now seemingly shy. “If all goes well, I had hoped to be engaged by the time we graduate. You won’t be just my girlfriend then.”
"You bastard," You gawked, laughing at his proclamation. The happiness was overflowing in your chest that you couldn’t help but just squeeze him into you hoping maybe that your souls would fuse with each other. “You haven’t even kissed me yet and you’re already pre-proposing?”
He licked his lips, his sleepless eyes now full of vigor. “Ah, we gotta fix that, don’t we, pet?”
“We’re dating.”
Natty sighed in relief.
Poppy clapped.
Garreth passed Imelda a silver coin.
"Excuse me," Ominis muttered, standing up. “I'm gonna request a room change to the Headmaster.”
#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow x mc#hogwarts legacy sebastian#sebastian x mc#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow fanfiction
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/46f6194fac9aa4fad5e3e1391acc1bfa/3912e97e6e04ecf5-6b/s540x810/69cba62b17af736023d7c727f4639525301359bb.jpg)
18+ smutty drabble with some angst and all the fluff and possessive, fwb to lovers college Bucky, I wanted to try something, images are mine, Canva pulled through with the layout. Maybe I'll write something again with this picture, (mob Bucky? DBF Bucky?) but here's an idea:
-
"You up?"
You smirked at the text message that popped up, already swinging your legs out of bed because you knew exactly what was to follow-
"Come over"
You didn't bother changing out of the hoodie you were already lounging in, pulling on some shorts and throwing on Bucky's leather jacket before heading out. You pulled the jacket tighter around your body as you walked 2 blocks to his place, fiddling with the spare key he'd given you just because.
"Hey Steve, hey Sam" You gave Bucky's roommates/ bestfriends a wave as you let yourself in, padding past the living room, headed right to his room.
"Hey peanut" The blonde smiled before throwing a knowing smirk to Sam as soon as they heard the door click shut.
"$20 they keep this up for another month"
"Deal"
-
"Hey Buck-
"How come you didn't tell me you'd already left," Bucky set his laptop off to the side, his tight black tshirt riding up giving you a pretty view of his happy trail as he leaned over, closing the screen shut.
"You knew I was going to come-" You started with an eyeroll but Bucky wasn't having it, shaking his head while you looked at the knickknacks sitting on his desk.
"And I've told you to at least let me know when you leave, especially at night"
"When did you care so much" You snorted, gasping when he came up from behind you, turning you around and grasping your jaw in his hand, squeezing your cheeks, making you meet his eyes.
"You don't walk out alone at night. I would have called you an uber"
"It's two blocks-
"I don't care. So who were you all dressed up for earlier today" Bucky cocked at eyebrow, releasing the soft grip he had on your jaw, moving them to rest around your waist instead.
"I wasn't dressed up, it was a regular outfit"
"Please, that tiny black skirt with those stockings" His grip tightened, digging around your hips, "Saw you come by the field when we had practice, were you trying to show me something doll" He smirked, noting you were currently still in his leather jacket.
"I thought it looked cute, don't flatter yourself Barnes-
"That's Steve's sweater" Bucky cut you off narrowing his eyes, tugging the hem of the hoodie. You hadn't even noticed, giggling when you realized you had indeed somehow accidently ended up with Steve's sweater.
"I just wear whatever's comfy, must've gotten mixed up in your laundry last time I was here" You shrugged, tossing off his jacket onto the chair by the desk. "If it helps, it was your hoodie I intended to steal"
"You're not wearing his sweater" It was a statement, something other than lust clouding his thoughts, itching to rip the sweater off your body and keep you wrapped up in nothing else but him.
"Seriously? Why does it matter, I thought this was just casual anyway-
"Mine" Bucky growled, pulling the hoodie off your body and making a point of tossing it out of the room before locking it shut again. "You're mine"
"Bucky-
"Always teasing me with those fuckin' skirts" Bucky grabbed you, hauling you over his shoulder and tossing you over the bed before crawling on top of you and pinning you under him. You hadn't been wearing anything under the hoodie, gasping when Bucky tugged at your nipples, smirking as they pebbled at his touch. "Do you not see how other guys look at you when you wear that baby"
"Bucky please" You sounded needier than usual, caught off guard by his surge of possessiveness, different from his usual protective nature over you. He attacked your neck with kisses, sucking bruises onto them between soft bites, letting his tongue swipe over the area after.
"Tell me, lookit you laying in my bed as soon as I call, soo needy all just for me, huh?" His hands came to lace with yours, pressing his erection between your legs, grinding against your clothed core.
"Jamie, do something" You pouted, squeaking when he came down to nip your lips, getting off you just to throw your shorts and panties off, wasting no time ridding himself of his clothes. He slotted himself back between your legs, letting his thick length rest between your soaked cunt.
"Patience pretty bunny, you have no idea what you do to me, do you. Not sharing you with anyone, you're mine"
"I'm yours?" You whined feeling his cockhead swipe through your folds, gathering your slick, a flash of vulnerability passing between you as his eyes bore into yours.
"Always, babydoll" Bucky whispered with his lips brushing against your as he started to push in, the both of you gasping at the feeling of the initial stretch. It didn't matter how many times he'd already had you like this, the feeling was forever unmatched. He didn't bother with giving you a moment to adjust, setting a brutal pace as soon as he was fully sheathed inside you. He made of a point of making you scream as loud as possible, well aware his best friends were still home, working his hips faster at the thought of you in Steve's sweater.
"You're. All. Mine" Bucky slammed his cock into you with each word, hoping to write his name in cum all over the inside of your tight cunt. "Say it, tell me you're mine, c'mon baby"
"M'y-yours" You stuttered out, "I'm yours Bucky!!"
"That's right, gonna make you scream that all night"
-
And he kept his word. Bucky kept you impaled on his cock until he couldn't hold it any longer, spilling ropes of his load into you, one after the other. He would watch it drip out before getting hard again from the sight along, pushing his dick back into you to make sure not a drop was wasted.
You panted, withering under him as he pulled one more orgasm out of you before letting his bodyweight drop, his now disheveled locks and flushed cheeks resting against your bare chest.
"I meant it you know" He murmured, pressing a kiss between your breasts before looking up at you, "It's more than just physical for me"
"Are you sure?" You giggled as he leaned up to nudge his nose against yours with a shy smile he reserved just for you..
"Very sure. I love you" Bucky mumbled against you hair, pulling the sheets up to cover you both, his arms wrapped tightly around you body to his chest.
"I love you too"
"I also meant it when I said you can't wear his sweaters"
"Bucky-
"Mine"
-
"I want my $20"
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes x reader smut#fuck boy bucky barnes smut#fuck boy bucky barnes#college bucky au#college bucky barnes#college bucky#avengers fluff#avenger fanfiction#avengers smut#avengers fanfic#avengers fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#marvel smut#marvel fic#marvel fanfic#bucky barnes imagine
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
do i wanna know? (pt.2) - cl16
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/84dab1587149f00163c3f13d68130ba4/ab9431539124302e-8b/s540x810/91e18ee1d97448a7cb713b5b9c9abdaebd65c00e.jpg)
pairing: brother'sbff!charles x gasly!reader summary: in which you find yourself tangled in a web of emotions with your brother's best friend OR it was never just sex between you and your brother's best friend warnings: 18+, smut under the cut!, badly translated french (prob), angst!!!!, not proofread!! word count: ~2.3k author's note: SURPRISE SHAWTY!!!!!! i am here apologizing for being MIA for so long. if this is SHIT I apologize I just have been struggling with writer's block for months and have been very stressed and busy with work!!! I really tried my best so don't be too mean to me over this lmaooo. I love u all!!! there will be more of them to come ;) also since it's been so long since I've properly written this MIGHT be a little rusty so pls forgive me
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
THE TRANQUIL MELODY of the waves crashing against the shore is truly a captivating sight. You sat by the water in an oversized t-shirt and bikini bottoms, absorbed in the symphony of nature. So engrossed were you in the soothing sounds, the glistening water, and the caress of the breeze, that Charles’s approach caught you off guard.
“There you are,” his voice resonated like the ocean. You sensed the warmth of his presence as he settled beside you on the sand, propped up on his hands.
Though you didn’t turn to face him, you could feel his gaze fixed on your profile.
“Do you think we’re being stupid?” You couldn’t help but ask.
“Quoi?” What?
“I just don’t want to hurt Pierre.” You finally turned your head to look at him. “Was it a mistake?”
You didn’t think it was. But the more you sat and thought about it, the more stressed over the situation you became.
“No.”
You smiled softly, pulling your knees up and resting your head upon them as you truly took in the sight of him.
“I think we should do it again.”
-
The two of you fell into a pattern quickly.
“Such a dirty fucking slut,” Charles groans out loud as he looked at the sight of you on your knees before him. His cock was heavy in your hand as you slowly start to pump him. Pre-cum leaking from the tip, oozing onto your fingertips. It was a gooey mess.
You stare up at him with a smirk on your lips as you take in his flushed cheeks and his pale knuckles from clenching the countertop so tightly.
“Mmm,” You moan as you bring him to your mouth, swirling your tongue around him slowly. You suck lightly before dragging him in and out of your mouth.
You swore you could look at him for forever and never get tired of it. You were constantly in the depths of convincing yourself it was nothing but sex.
“So fucking beautiful.”
“Could stare at you all day, mon ange.”
But is it really?
-
You’re not sure when it changed. But it did.
The gentle warmth of the morning sun seeped through the delicate curtains, causing you to let out a soft groan as you slowly awakened. Shifting in the bed, you squint against the bright light, and eventually force yourself to emerge from the cozy embrace of sleep.
As you turn your head, your attention was instantly met by the striking view of a broad, bare, and muscular back dominating your view. Instantly, a swarm of butterflies fill your stomach.
The early sunlight cast a soft glow on his smooth, tanned skin, accentuating the sculpted contours of his muscles. His breathing was steady and calm, a comforting rhythm that contrasted with the crisp morning air. His hair, slightly messy, fell against the nape of his neck.
The gentle upward curve of your lips was almost instinctive as you reached out toward him, running your fingers through the soft wisps of hair at his neck.
He lets out a small grumble as he shifts around, his face nestled in the pillows. Then, he turns to you, his gentle smile already in place before he opened his eyes. His arm drapes over you almost instantly, tugging you into the warmth of his body and immediately peppering soft kisses to your neck.
“Je pourrais rester ici pour toujours.” Could stay right here for forever. He whispers in between the soft kisses.
You feel the blush form on your cheeks almost instantly.
“Me too,” you respond softly.
“Do you think we could?”
The longing to say yes tugged at your heart, but you resisted, knowing the potential complications it could bring. Instead, you laughed, trying to shake off the heavy thoughts about the chaos and challenges that might follow. For now, it was just the two of you. Just two regular people.
No Pierre. No burdens of the outside world.
It’s been weeks of this. Whatever this was between you. You both found yourself too greedy to give it up. The sex was too good. He was too good.
-
Strong fingers intertwine with the strands of your hair, a delicate tug at the roots sends a tingling sensation cascading across your scalp, igniting a fiery yet exquisite sensation that dances on the edge of pleasure and exhilaration.
“Nous devons faire attention.” We need to be careful. You softly groan as your bare back becomes flush against the contours of his chest, slightly dampened with sweat. The pace of his hips doesn’t falter as he brings his lips to the shell of your ear.
“Pourquoi?” Why? You know he’s teasing you. “Want me to stay hidden, hm?” The one hand that rests against the soft skin of your hips squeezes hard, as if he needed the reminder that you were here and, in his arms, and on his cock. “Ton petit secret sale?” Your dirty little secret?
The words wouldn’t come. Every time you tried to speak, they tangled in your throat, choked by the weight of the situation. You wanted to tell Charles that you didn’t see him that way, that he meant more to you than anyone else. But your brother…his best friend, loomed too large over whatever it was you two were.
You struggled to hide your wince as Charles places a quick but harsh squeeze to your throat.
“Not even that will shut you up, hm?” He groans in between each thrust. “Pierre is in the room next over. It’s like you want to be caught.”
“Maybe I should just call him in here, hm?”
You felt yourself pushing back against his thrusts, meeting him in the middle at a feverish pace, needing to remove the ache between your legs.
“Let him see how big of a cock slut you really are.”
You shook your head, soft moans escaping your dampened lips as his arm slips down and presses to your clit.
“No?” He eggs you on. “You’re just my little cockslut, right?”
You nod eagerly, your head lolled back against the crevice of his shoulder and neck for support.
“Say it.” He demands, his fingers quickening on your clit. “Tell me you’re my little cockslut while you cum all over me.”
“I’m-“ You struggle to get the words out, too caught up in the way his cock slips in and out of you, his fingers rubbing your clit, and the groans escaping past his lips into your ear.
“C’mon mon ange,” He grits. “Make a fucking mess.”
“I’m yours.”
It happened so fast, it was almost a blur as Charles hurriedly pushes you face first into the mattress, hips slamming into you at such a speed, you both went soaring over the edge of your orgasms.
A few quiet minutes passed as you both caught your breath, little laughs and smiles as both of your bodies lie in a tangled mess.
-
“The Gala is coming up,” Charles spoke. His throat burning in anticipation as he waited for you to catch onto what he was implying. He wanted you by his side. Wanted you on his arm. Wanted no one to touch you but him.
“Nous avons déjà discuté de cela.” We’ve discussed this already.
Charles could slowly feel the annoyance building in his chest as he pushed himself up off the bed, dragging his body to the bathroom to retrieve a wet cloth to clean you up. He wasn’t used to this, to say the least. And he wanted you to himself so fucking badly.
It wasn’t until after his finished cleaning you up, that he spoke again. “Combien de temps?” How long?
You sat up, slipping on whatever article of clothing was closest to you. No doubt, one of Charles’ worn t-shirts that draped to your thighs.
You tilted your head to the side just slightly, encouraging him to continue.
“How long will you avoid telling Pierre?”
-
Giving Charles the silent treatment was probably the worst thing you could’ve done to him. But you didn’t know what else to do.
Your back was turned to him, the burn of his eyes on the nape of your neck had you on high alert. You couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t meet his gaze.
The room felt colder with each passing second, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you both. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak. A part of you wanted to turn around, to meet his gaze and to find some way to fix whatever this was. But the fear of what you might see in his eyes—hurt, anger, hunger—kept you frozen in place. Well, as frozen as you could be while dancing with another man.
He was proper cute. Tan skin, chocolate eyes, scruffy hair. His name, however, slipped past your mind. You think it was Rob. Or was his name Ryan? Something with an R. You think.
It didn’t help in the slightest bit that Pierre is the entire reason you’re in this situation to begin with. He practically forced you into the arms of Rob. Or is it Ryan?
“You look beautiful tonight,” The man looked down upon you, a small grin on his face as he twirled you around the dance floor. A small blush crept up on your cheeks.
“Merci.” You thanked him. “How do you know my brother?” You needed to keep the conversation going. Anything to take your mind off the stare burning your skin from afar.
He opened his mouth to begin a response but was instantly interrupted as soon as the voice of another was by your side.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Charles began, but he was clearly anything but sorry. His voice was stoic, void of any emotion but annoyance. “I need a word with you.” And before you could put up any argument, his fingers clasped onto your wrist, dragging you away from the dance floor and out of the ballroom.
Despite your protests for him to slow down, he continued at his unrelenting pace, tagging you along without regard to your inability to keep up. Charles then ushered you, if one could call it that, into what appeared to be a cramped coat closet.
The dim lighting obscured the usual green hue of his eyes, leaving you uncertain whether it really was the poor illumination or his evident anger that caused this change.
“Are you crazy?” You half-shout, waving your arms in the air in frustration once you pull your wrist from his grip. “You just made an absolute scene in there!”
“I made a scene?” He raises his voice in frustration. Like he can’t believe that you have an issue with his behavior when you were the one dancing with another man. “You might as well just go fuck that guy on the dance floor!”
He knew he was talking in fits of jealousy, and he knows that it’s wrong. But he couldn’t contain it. Couldn’t help but have an outburst over this situation. You didn’t even look at him the entire night.
“It was one dance!”
“I don’t care if it’s just one. It may as well be five hundred!” He sneered while his fists clenched at his sides. “Je ne partage pas.” I don’t share.
“I can’t do this right now.” You pleaded softly.
“Do what, exactly?”
“This.” You silently begged for him not to continue questioning. To not go there.
“And what is this?” or what he really meant is ‘what are we?’.
You both fell into a silence as the weight of the question weighed down on you both. You didn’t want to reach this point. You both knew what it was, but you weren’t ready for the answer. It was supposed to be fun and just sex. Something Pierre would never need to know about.
Charles took your silence as an answer. But he refused to accept it. He made a small step towards you, his green eyes locked onto yours, to which you retreated one back.
“Please don’t come closer,” You begged with a small quiver of your lip. “I need you to stand a step away from me.” You knew the moment he was closer; you were done for. Your resolve would be over.
“I can’t.” He emphasized. “I can’t stay away. Not from you.” He was distraught. Why didn’t you understand?
“Charles, please.” Your lip quivered just slightly as your hands fell at your sides, your fingers playing with the fabric of your dress.
“Do you think I want to be like this?” He pushed. “Do you think I want to be thinking about my best friend’s sister 24/7?” He could feel his resolve slipping the longer he stared at you. You were beautiful, one of the easiest people to talk to, and he couldn’t not love you.
It was so quick. One second you both were feet apart, the next his lips were pressed against yours as your hands grabbed onto his biceps pulling him closer to you. The feel of his muscles underneath his suit were prominent against your fingertips as you moaned softly into his mouth.
Both hands enveloped your jawline, sprawling onto your neck in a feverish rush. It was a clash of tongue and teeth, and neither of you wanted to stop.
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fic#f1 imagine#f1 one shot#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you
727 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Taste of Silence (Pt. II)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c7cb99ca444aaf93e4af634d1fe3bf3c/37c878aa8972adf1-e1/s540x810/958dd2b20e6df234d43bd95b1e49b605e13d7a5e.jpg)
Rhysand x Reader
Summary: Rhys's drunken words cut deeper than any blade, leaving Y/n questioning everything she thought she knew about their bond. As heartbreak and betrayal collide, she faces a choice that could shatter the fragile threads holding their world together.
Pt. I
Word Count: 1.5k
──────────────────────────────
Rhysand was drowning.
He had endured centuries of torment in Amarantha’s Court, faced death and destruction in ways that would have broken lesser males—but this? This was agony unlike anything he had ever known.
Because this wasn’t just losing her. This was being the cause of her pain.
The bond was still there, a heavy, throbbing weight tethered to his soul. It twisted and pulled at him, refusing to let him forget the raw betrayal in her eyes when she left. He couldn’t block it out. Couldn’t shut down the waves of anger and hurt radiating from her, nor the faint echo of her presence that haunted his every step.
He didn’t deserve to forget.
He followed her from a distance, staying just out of sight, knowing he had no right to approach her. She had retreated to a small, snow-laden village on the outskirts of his territory, a place so quiet and unassuming it seemed designed to swallow grief whole. Rhys respected her boundaries—at least, as much as he could while still ensuring she was safe.
The villagers had no idea their little haven was now fiercely guarded by shadows. Every night, he patrolled the perimeter, silent as death, ensuring no threat could come close. When a pack of feral beasts wandered too near, Rhys killed them before they could even scent the village. He cleaned up the blood and left no trace, unwilling to let her see the lengths he was going to for her protection.
She might hate him, but she was still his mate. And he would protect her, even if it tore him apart.
But even the small things he could do weren’t enough. Not when every second without her was a reminder of the chasm he’d created between them. The cold, empty nights stretched endlessly, the silence gnawing at his mind until he thought he might go mad.
──────────────────────────────
The third week after her departure, he broke.
He had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t intrude, and wouldn't push her until she was ready. But the bond burned unbearably that day, tugging at him with a force that felt like claws raking through his chest. He flew to her cabin before he could stop himself, landing with a muffled thud on the snow-packed ground.
She was outside, stacking firewood with her back to him. She froze when his boots crunched against the snow.
“Don’t,” she said without turning, her voice cold enough to make him falter.
“Please,” Rhys choked out, his voice hoarse.
She didn’t respond, and he didn’t think—he just dropped to his knees. The snow soaked through his leathers, numbing his skin, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care.
“Please,” he repeated, his voice breaking. “Please, just listen to me. I—” His throat closed up, the words catching on the lump that had lodged itself there since the moment she left. He dragged a trembling hand through his hair, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his desperation. “I know I hurt you. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I—Cauldron, I can’t live like this. I can’t live without you.”
Her breath hitched, but she didn’t move.
“You are everything to me,” he said, his voice raw. “Everything. And I hate myself for what I did, for the way I made you feel. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it right, if you’ll let me. But if you can’t…” He swallowed hard, tears stinging his eyes. “If you can’t, I’ll still do it. I’ll protect you. I’ll make sure you’re safe and happy, even if it’s from afar. I don’t care what it costs me, as long as you’re okay.”
“How can I trust that the next time you’re drunk or angry, you won’t say something that cuts me to the bone?”
Her words hit like a dagger, sharp and precise. He bowed his head, his voice trembling as he replied, “I don’t deserve your trust, not after what I said. But I swear to you, I will never drink if it means risking your pain. I’ll stop entirely if you ask me to. Nothing—nothing—is worth losing you again.”
Her arms crossed, her shields firmly in place, though he caught the faintest waver in her expression. “And what happens the next time we fight, Rhys? What if you get angry? Will you throw my weaknesses in my face again?”
His head snapped up, anguish written across his features. “Never. I would never—” His voice broke. “You are not my weakness. You are my strength. And if I ever forget that, I want you to walk away and never look back. But I swear to you, Y/N, I will spend every day of my life proving to you that I’ve learned from this. That I will never, ever make you feel like that again.”
Her lips parted, but no words came. He could feel her battling herself, the bond between them a swirling tempest of doubt and yearning.
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he whispered, his knees sinking deeper into the snow. “I’ll spend the rest of my life earning your trust if I have to. Just tell me how to begin.”
The silence stretched taut between them, and Rhys didn’t dare move. Finally, she spoke, her voice soft but edged with steel. “Prove it.”
Her shields weren’t just up—they were fortified. But he didn’t need to feel the bond to see the war raging within her.
──────────────────────────────
The days that followed were a slow, painful process. Rhys didn’t push. He stayed near enough to be there if she needed him but far enough to give her space. He continued his quiet watch over the village, eliminating threats before she ever knew they existed. He left her gifts—small things he hoped might bring her comfort. A new brush when he saw her old one had broken. A scarf enchanted to keep her warm even in the bitterest winds. And a note with every gift: I’m still here. I always will be.
She started letting him stay for longer each time he visited. They didn’t talk much at first—just sat in heavy, charged silence. But gradually, the walls began to crack. She started asking him questions, small and tentative, and he answered with an honesty that left him vulnerable and bare.
The night she finally forgave him, it was snowing.
They were sitting by the fire, the soft glow casting flickering shadows across the room. Rhys’s voice was low and steady as he recounted the years he’d spent under the mountain. The rawness of the memories was evident in the way his hands clenched and unclenched, but he forced himself to speak, each word a step toward atonement.
Y/N sat across from him, silent, her gaze fixed on the flames. Her fingers twisted the hem of her sweater, the movement restless and uncertain.
“You didn’t just hurt me,” she said at last, her voice trembling. “You betrayed me, Rhys. You made me feel small, like I didn’t matter.”
The words tore through him, but he didn’t flinch. He nodded, his throat tightening. “I know. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel that way again.”
She looked at him then, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “How can I trust you not to run your mouth again? To not let some drink or situation make you careless with me?”
He sucked in a sharp breath, shame crashing over him. “You can’t—not yet. But I’ll prove to you that you can. I’ll prove it every single day, Y/N.” His voice cracked, his chest heaving as he lowered himself to his knees before her.
“Please,” he begged, his hands trembling as he clasped hers. “Please, give me a chance to earn back your trust. I’ll never take another sip of wine if that’s what it takes. I’ll never let myself forget the weight of what I have to lose. You are everything to me.”
Her lip trembled as she stared at him, the rawness in his expression and the desperation in his voice cutting through her defenses. “I’m terrified, Rhys. Of trusting you again. Of getting hurt again.”
His thumbs brushed over her knuckles as he held her hands tightly, his head bowing. “I know. And if I ever break your trust again, I’ll deserve every ounce of that fear. I’ll deserve to lose you. But I won’t. I swear to you, Y/N, I won’t.”
The bond between them hummed faintly, like a whisper of what it once was, and it pulled at her even as she hesitated. She reached out, cupping his face with trembling fingers.
“You have one chance, Rhys,” she whispered, her voice heavy with both hope and caution. “One.”
He exhaled a shaky breath, pressing her palm to his lips. “I won’t waste it. I swear to you, I’ll never waste it.”
When she finally leaned into him, resting her head against his chest, his arms wrapped around her protectively, as if he could shield her from every hurt in the world—including himself. The bond sang louder, fuller, and in that moment, they began to mend what had been broken, piece by fragile piece.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
Want to join my tag list? Drop a comment or check out this link to submit a specific series you would like tagged in! (Or if you just don't want to comment, that's okay too)
#acotarxreader#angst#batboys x reader#slow burn#tension#acotar#night court#x reader#rhysandxreader#rhys acotar#rhysand#a court of thorns and roses#high lord of the night court#light angst
247 notes
·
View notes
Note
I saw your post saying you'd cook writing something for Luke.
Sooo.....
Luke childhood friends to lovers would be pretty cool
ofc! thanks sm for the request 🙂��� fair warning: i did not in fact cook, this is more like a snack 😭
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/795a6305d9f60c6891f5e3a257c0b837/d1c50a1f789b006f-4f/s540x810/8e03414a8b1e43b4bd423f4cfc83fdaafebcdd11.jpg)
“so… can i get your number before i go? maybe we can hang?” ethan edwards, one of the hockey players from school, asks. his tone is casual but there’s a flicker of hope in his eyes.
you smile, holding your hand out for his phone.
“sure, why not?”
you punch your number into his phone, your fingers brushing against the screen as the room buzzes with laughter and music. handing it back, you grin. “there you go.”
ethan thanks you before heading off, and you take a sip of your drink, the cold fizz tingling against your lips. the exchange admittedly, leaves you feeling giddy. you’re stood leaning against the counter top, before a sharp voice immediately drags you out of your thoughts.
“the fuck was that?” you freeze, instantly recognizing the voice. it’s Luke’s—your best friend since you were in diapers. his tone is irritated, and when you turn around, you’re met with his all too familiar, towering frame. it would be intimidating if this wasn’t the same boy you used to watch cry over having to do homework as a kid.
“what was what?” you ask, surprised by his sudden tone. casually, you take another sip of your drink.
“i’m serious! what was that?!” he repeats, his voice more insistent now.
you sigh, placing your drink on the counter and giving him your full attention. “what do you mean? he asked for my number, so i gave it to him.”
Luke runs a hand through his long hair, visibly stressed. “so what— you guys are a thing now?”
you blink, caught off guard by his reaction. “oh my gosh. just because he has my number doesn’t mean we’re a thing… not yet, at least.”
you can’t help but tease him a little, curious about the frustration he’s displaying. something about his reaction feels… different, almost protective.
“that’s my friend! you can’t just… you can’t do that with my friends!” his voice rises slightly, cracking in a way that betrays the emotion he’s trying to hide.
“why not? they’re not just your friends Luke.” you frown, not happy about the possessiveness in his tone. this isn’t the first time he’s acted this way. growing up, he always had a hard time sharing—specifically his teammates or neighborhood friends. he had no problem playing dress up but firmly shut you out when it came to anything with the boys.
Luke exhales sharply, his shoulders slumping. “its not ethan i care about, y/n. it’s you. you’re mine. i love you, and i don’t want ethan—or anyone else—to have you.”
the words hang in the air, thick and heavy. your mouth fallls open slightly, shock washing over you. Luke looks just as stunned, whatever bit of confidence he had found before already crumbling as he runs a hand down his face.
“forget it. just… forget i said anything y/n. do whatever you want.” he moves to leave, his frustration spilling into his steps. he’s quick to try to up and leave.
but you’re quicker. grabbing his arm, you step in front of him, blocking his path. instinctively you stroke your thumb on his arm in a comforting way, and you tilt your head up to look at him. you’re so close now, the faint smell of his cologne filling the small space between you.
“first of all, Luke, don’t ever walk away from me like that.” you say firmly, voice soft but unwavering. “second of all, i love you too.”
he sighs. “no y/n i mean it like—”
you cut him off, your voice steady and reassuring. “i know exactly what you meant. i said i love you too.”
“wait—you do?” he asks, his voice quiet and, expression of disbelief.
you nod, a soft smile growing on your face “i’ve loved you since we were kids Luke. i think i knew the day quinn ripped my barbie’s head off and you got into a fight with him over it.”
Luke lets out a breathy laugh, glancing down before meeting your eyes again. “that was second grade. i’ve known i loved you since kindergarten, when you let me have the last blue Play-Doh. so, technically, i’ve got you beat.
you roll your eyes, laughing softly. “not everything’s a competition, Luke.”
“really? cuz it feels like i’ve been in competition for you my whole life.” he admits, only half joking. he somehow finds the confidence to snake his arms around your waist.
“come on lu. you should know that nobody could ever compare to you.”
his cheeks flush slightly, and he grins, sheepish but hopeful. “you mean that?”
“of course i do.” you say softly.
“so… uh… wanna be my girlfriend?” the words tumble out quickly, his confidence once again faltering as he rubs the back of his neck.
you laugh, shaking your head. “what was that?
he groans, looking at the ceiling for a moment before repeating himself, slower this time. “do you wanna be my girlfriend? it’s okay if not, i just really—”
“of course i do!” you cut him off, grinning up at him. he lets out a sigh of relief, hand falling back to your side, gently caressing up and down.
“hey.” he says suddenly, glancing towards the door. “let’s ditch this party.”
you nod without hesitation, lettting him take your hand and lead you toward the exit. the two of you walked in as friends, but as you step out into the cool night air, hand in hand, you know you’re leaving as so much more.
sorry for the wait but i really hope y’all enjoyed this one :) next part of the quinny smau is coming out next so keep an eye out!
#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes x y/n#luke hughes x you#luke hughes#lukehugheshockey#luke warren hughes#new jersey devils#nj devils#njd#hughes brothers#lh43#heartsforjh#kirbysasks❔#kay’s blurbs 🎀
251 notes
·
View notes
Note
hey bae , this is my first time making a req 😭🙏🏻 , so i was thinking about where y/n is a prisoner sent to an all male prison and geto/gojo is the chief security guard who works there. he is very attracted to y/n and at night he goes non con y/n
i love your fanfic btw ❤️
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/898a66da161bce1fbc748c1df0b0c0a6/d62df5c975d614b1-ad/s540x810/c6c4649e44610c1e21b7378af260fe7ed1a4c298.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/75169e9b361a6a0fdb5370d933f21117/d62df5c975d614b1-4a/s540x810/8f593a75a62e0ff706c42a060ee8bf58f8060188.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/88b802237760d6d517b55ae1f16867f5/d62df5c975d614b1-0d/s540x810/972cdf779031f6dd111a1d872b5580a28340f085.jpg)
Prisoner~
Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, Noncon, revenge, prisoner reader, chief secretary guard Gojo, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference....
( All characters are aged up/18+)
Minors Do Not Interact
Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report
Y/n's POV
This shitty people can't even investigate a case properly. First they put me in for the time crime I never did and now they're moving me to another jail?! The iron gates of Blackwood Prison creaked shut behind me, I found myself enveloped in a world dominated by rough faces and even rougher hands. I was the only woman among hundreds of convicts, a fact that made me stand out like a sore thumb.
The first few days were a blur of harsh fluorescent lights, cold meals, and the constant hum of male voices echoing through the concrete hallways. I kept my head down, learning the routines quickly - lights out at 10 PM sharp, wake-up call at 6 AM.
One evening, during dinner in the massive cafeteria, I felt eyes burning into my back. I turned slightly to see one of the guards standing against the wall. His name tag said 'Gojo'. He was tall, muscular, with an aura that demanded attention. His blue eyes seemed to follow my every movement.
As the days wore on, I started noticing Gojo everywhere. He seemed assigned to my wing more frequently than the other guards. Each time our paths crossed, his gaze lingered, a flicker of something - admiration? - passing through his steely expression before he quickly looked away.
One crisp autumn night, as the prison settled into uneasy quiet, I lay on my narrow bunk, straining to hear the faint scrape of metal against metal. Suddenly, my cell door clicked open. Gojo stood there, silhouetted against the dim hallway light, his muscular frame filling the doorway.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. His boots echoed on the cold floor as he approached my bunk. He didn't say a word, just reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me towards him.
"what are you doing?! why are you even here?!" I asked being shocked. Gojo smirked. His grip tightened. "Easy," he said softly, his voice low and urgent. "Thought you might need...company. It's tough being the only woman here"
"what do you mean?" I asked."You know exactly what I mean," he whispered, his face inches from mine. His hand moved to my waist possessively. "Being surrounded by all these hungry eyes...you must be tired of the constant stares, the unwanted attention." He paused, his thumb tracing circles on my hipbone. "I could..."
"I could make them all disappear," Gojo murmured, leaning in closer. His breath was warm against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "You'd be mine, and only mine. No one else would dare to look at you, let alone touch you." He desperately whispered in my ear.
"y-you should go" I said. "Should I?" Gojo chuckled. And I didn't notice when his fingers start to unbuckle my belt. "You really want me to leave you here all alone, with those little shits inmate dreaming about getting their hands on you?" He paused, his hands pausing at the button of my pants.
"w-what are you doing w-wai-" I finally realised but Gojo cut me off with a firm kiss, his lips crashing against mine. He pinned me against the bunk, his hands roaming over my body as he effortlessly pushed my pants down. I was about to protest when "Shh," he murmured against my lips. "Just let me take care of you tonight."
"N-No....leave or I'll tell the other officers" I said. Gojo pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire. "Go ahead," he said confidently, his hand sliding into my underwear. "Who do you think they'll believe? The quiet little prisoner or the chief security guard?" He started to caress me slowly.
And I couldn't reply. I was silent. "Exactly," Gojo whispered, his fingers exploring further as he hooked his legs around mine to keep me from kicking him off. "Now, be a good girl and stay quiet," he warned, his other hand reaching up to cover my mouth. "Or I'll have to gag you..."
"please leave me I don't want this." I begged. Gojo's smirk widened. "Too good for a criminal's touch?" He pulled his hands away suddenly, his voice harsh. "Maybe I should make you scream instead. Give the guys out there what they've all been dreaming of." He unbuckled his belt threateningly. "Answer me honestly - do you want this or not?"
"I don't.... P-Please" I said. His expression softened slightly at the plea, but his hand remained on his belt. "You're making the wrong choice," he said softly, leaning in close. "You don't know those men they're ready to get their hands on you any time they want. Just for pleasure" His fingers traced my neck possessively. "I don't want you just for pleasure.... I want you permanently....all mine" he whispered.
Fear grabbed me by my neck. I couldn't even think anything when suddenly he kissed me again. He deepened the kiss forcefully, his tongue invading my mouth as he pressed his body against mine. His hands released my wrists to roam my body again, gripping and squeezing roughly. He only broke the kiss to start unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, the other still holding my head in place.
he took off his shirt and threw it on the floor. Gojo leaned down to capture my mouth again, his bare chest pressing against mine as he pinned me beneath him. His calloused hands explored my body roughly, leaving red marks in their wake. He broke the kiss again to nip and suck at my neck, marking me possessively.
Then he tore off my shirt. I wasn't wearing any bra. "You're fucking hotttt," he muttered, eyes darkening as he took in my exposed body. His rough hands traced my curves before moving to my breasts, squeezing and kneading. He lowered his head to capture one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard while his fingers pinched the other.
"P-Please stop" I begged. "Too late for that," Gojo muttered, releasing my nipple with a pop. He raised his head to look at me, taking in my scared expression and half-naked body. He grabbed my pants and pulled it down with my panties. "Spread your legs," he ordered softly, his voice lower than before.
I didn't do anything. I was too scared. Gojo growled in frustration as I refused to comply. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "I said, spread your fucking legs," he repeated, more forcefully this time. With lightning speed, he grabbed both my thighs and forcibly pushed them apart, settling himself between them.
I cried out. He unbuckled his belt and pants with one hand, kicking them off his legs. He was left in just his boxers, the bulge prominent. He hooked his arms under my knees, pulling my legs up and back, exposing me completely.
Gojo shoved his boxers down, freeing his rigid cock. Without hesitation, he thrust forward, brutally piercing into my pussy. He groaned loudly, not caring if the entire jail heard my screams. "Fuck, so tight..." he grunted, starting to pump into me violently.
Gojo reached between my legs to rub my clit roughly, the stimulation making my cries even more desperate. He fucked me mercilessly, his cock pounding into my pussy like a jackhammer.I was through my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder.
I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. He was still thrusting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh... I don't want this ..." I moaned. Suddenly I felt his teeth gazing at my neck. "No no no d-don't please don't Mark me please " I cried out. He just ignored my please and bite my neck harshly. I dig my nails more deeper into his back as he Marked me. He continued thrusting. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. He was panting.
He sits on the floor. The sound of his panting filled the room. Suddenly he started laughing. "I've heard you're in jail for a crime you didn't even. And you also don't have any family to help you.... and also I've heard that you are going out of jail this year. Don't worry darling, I know how to make you permanently MINE" He said darkly.
Give me your requests guys....
I love when you give me your requests 💕
#jjk#jjk smut#smut#tw noncon#jujutsu kaisen smut#fem reader#dark content#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo somnophilia#gojo smut#gojo noncon#possessive#obssesive#yandere jjk#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere gojo smut#yandere gojo#yandere#dark blog#dark writing#dark romance
186 notes
·
View notes
Text
cry baby | chapter one
Summary: Cry Baby went on a date? And, it wasn't with Bucky?
Warning: Smoking. Alcohol, tipsy motorcycle driving. DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE KIDS. Crying. Bucky is so toxic but sweet, I'm a fool.
Word Count: 1528
Spotify Playlist | Tips
Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
A/N: I speed-wrote this so the posting schedule wasn't out of sync, but ooops hit the post now button too early. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B
Tags: buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute
Three months passed since that night at your apartment, in that time, the routine had become almost ordinary. It was a pattern, Bucky would show up at your apartment bruised and grazed up, and you would patch him up. Without questioning why or how it happened. The worry still gnawed at the back of your mind.
Summer had settled over the city, warmth wrapping around everything from the streets to the bar. The familiar sounds of laughter and motorcycle engines roaring became clearer as you got closer to the bar. Already late to meet your friends as is, you began to walk a little faster.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the prettiest face in the city,” Rumlow drawled, his eyes raking over your body, making your skin crawl, as you walked passed him and his group of friends to get toward the door of the bar.
“Rumlow,” you acknowledged as you tried to move past him. He stepped in front of you, blocking your path.
“What’s the rush? How about you and I have a little chat?” a smirk tugged at his lips as he began to reach up toward your cheek.
You glanced around, hoping to spot a familiar face that wasn’t loyal to Rumlow, but the street was eerily quiet. “I’m meeting my brother, excuse me.”
He leaned in closer, his hand now reaching your cheek. Gently caressing it as he continued to speak, “I’ve been watching you, you know. I’ve always wondered if you taste as sweet as you look.”
Panic surged through you, and you took a step back, your eyes darting toward anything but his. Unbeknownst to you, Sam Wilson had pulled up outside the bar, just in time to witness the interaction.
Without hesitation, Sam dismounted his motorcycle and strode toward you. “Is there a problem here?” Sam’s words cut through the air like a knife, drawing the attention of both you and Rumlow as he grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket.
A sign of relief escaped your breath at the sight of Sam, grateful for the timely intervention. Rumlow, on the other hand, sized up Sam with a gace before deciding to retreat, bringing his hand up as a show of surrender.
“I’ll see you around,” He said toward you, his tone dripping with implication before he turned back toward his friends.
Same watched his every move, his expression guarded. He turned to you, once he was assured Rumlow wasn’t an issue anymore. “You okay?” he asked, offering a reassuring smile.
You nodded, and the weight of the tension lifted. “Thanks, Sam.” Same returned the nod, giving the area another look around before leading you into the bar. His protective instincts were still alert.
Inside, the rest of the group noticed as both you and Sam walked through the door. You all exchanged greetings as you slid into the booth next to Bucky. The scent of your vanilla perfume mixed with the smell of smoke and beer, a combination that had become comforting to him.
As you settled into the booth, Bucky rested his arm over the back of the booth behind your head. “Took you long enough,” Natasha gestured her bottle toward you before taking a quick sip. “The date went that well, did it?” She couldn’t resist making a joke at your expense.
Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of a date, his jaw clenched as your cheeks rushed with heat. “A date, huh?” he remarked, sarcasm laced in his tone.
You began fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “Um, yeah…” you mumbled, trying to avoid the gazes of your friends and especially your brother.
Before you could dwell anymore on it, Steve redirected the conversation, but the sense of Bucky’s fist clenching not far from your head made the unease linger.
Throughout the night, you found yourself stealing glances at Sam, unsure of how to navigate the aftermath of the situation outside. You began replaying his words in your mind, causing your emotions to get the better of you.
Bucky sensed your sudden quietness, catching one of your sniffles. “What now?” he mumbled, only loud enough for you to hear.
“Just ran into someone outside,” you sniffled again, glancing back at Bucky with tears in your eyes. “It’s fine now,” you shot him an unconvincing smile.
“Yeah,” he began as he picked up his bottle, “looks like it.” he glanced back down at you as he took a swig.
~
As you stepped outside, you watched as your friends began to retrieve their motorcycles, getting ready to leave. The six of you began mumbling goodnights to each other, you telling each of them to drive safely, as Bucky stood watching by his motorcycle. He offered you a tentative smile and gestured toward the helmet on his seat. “Need a ride?”
You nodded, and he passed you the helmet as you climbed onto the back. The ride was exhilarating, wind whipped through the stray strand of your head as you clung to Bucky’s waist.
“Thank you, Bucky,” you said softly as you dismounted after he turned off the engine outside your apartment building.
“Anytime, Sweetheart,” he paused before he turned to face you, his expression serious. “Can we talk for a minute?” he asked, his eyes searching yours as you passed him the helmet back. A knot formed in your stomach, and you nodded sheepishly. “I hope your date went well.”
You shifted uncomfortably, feeling self-conscious you pulled your cardigan further around you. “Um, yeah, it was okay,” you mumbled, trying to avoid his gaze.
He began to chuckle softly, sensing your nervousness. “Just okay? Wow, sounds thrilling,” he remarked with a sarcastic tone.
You managed a weak smile, his teasing making you feel more embarrassed. “Um, well, it was our second date,” you admitted shyly, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “He asked for a third,”
Bucky’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but the playful smirk never left his lips. “Oh, did he?” an amused tone in his response. “Looks like you made quite an impression then,” he continued, his tone was still playful but yet, intrigued. “Is it Sam?” he questioned.
Your head shot up to meet his gaze, and confusion spread across your features. “What? No, it’s, um, well it’s,” you paused, your nervousness causing you to hesitate. “It’s a guy from work, John Walk-,”
Bucky’s playful demeanor vanished in an instant, anger replacing the simmer in his eyes. His jaw tensed, and his eyes narrowed into a hard glare as he processed what you admitted.
“John Walker?” Bucky’s voice was low, a dangerous growl, the name left a sour taste in his mouth.
You nodded, “Yeah, um, he’s just a guy from work,” you hesitantly replied, thrown off-guard by Bucky’s transformation.
“That son of a…” his voice trailed off, the words barely contained his fury. His anger seemed to intensify, his voice rising in volume as he continued venting his frustration toward you. “I can’t believe you’d even consider going near him!” he bellowed, words echoing through the empty street.
You flinched at the force of his outburst, each word felt like it was a physical blow. “Bucky…” your voice quivering with emotion.
His features contorted in anger as he continued, “You don’t understand!” He was consumed by his rage, causing it almost impossible for you to hear your voice asking him to stop. “He’s dangerous, he’s… he’s not someone you want to be involved with!”
Each word began to cut deeper than the last, leaving you feeling vulnerable, the tears spilled down your face. “Please, Bucky,” you shouted back at him, your voice rising in desperation, “stop shouting at me!”
Your raised voice caught Bucky off guard, his anger faltering the moment he finally looked down at you. At that moment, he saw the tears, the fear, and the hurt. The realization that he had caused it, hit him like a punch to the gut.
Bucky let out a heavy sigh as his features softened, the red lights in his eyes dimming as he reached down to gently wipe your soaked cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, every part of him filled with regret, “I… I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Sh-shouting at m-me like th-that doesn’t hel-help,” your voice shaky, and interrupted by hiccups. His gaze truly softened as he took in your words.
With that, he pulled you into a comforting hug, holding you close as you both took a moment to calm down.
“Let’s get you inside, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his voice now barely a whisper as he felt your shaking subside. You nodded, sniffling as you pulled back from him.
That night, you both walked up to your apartment, and Bucky kept a protective arm around you. Once inside, you realized tonight would be different. Usually, you’d make your way to the kitchen and begin patching up his wounds.
“Let me take care of you for a change,” he said, leading you toward your couch. He fetched a warm face cloth and gently wiped away the tear stains on your cheeks. You leaned into his comforting touch, a new sense of safety enveloping you.
---
Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
#cry baby series#cry baby#bucky barnes x cry baby#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky fanfic#james bucky barnes#bucky fic#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#biker au#biker!bucky
510 notes
·
View notes
Text
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/9f405089ccc74fceded4d022e6785fe5/9fe3ffdf7573d268-23/s540x810/ec31e2269135d8866c389d25a23d5975352c0dfd.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/736c24ded46931d28b0ddd1c65ae063f/9fe3ffdf7573d268-81/s540x810/b4d380b11dee7dce3f8b3d26320e312159d4aaa4.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4edbe63a93d55817effa55246b645bcd/9fe3ffdf7573d268-1a/s540x810/0d4eff8eee1c137206dd4b7a807471514b961e7f.jpg)
TIP TOE
very unusual and slightly interesting
# PAIRING seungmin x f/gn!reader
# 🐈 — SEO reposting from my old acc bc why not? Hell yah am I rotting in writers block 😍 plus exams coming up, yes girl I’m going to disappear again🥰
Seungmin was never the type to show his affection through physical touch. It was a known fact.
Once when you tried to hold his Hands he swatted yours away. When you tried to back hug him he glared into your souls before you could even take a step near him. You don’t even remember the last time you’ve kissed.
You realized that not many people are a big fan of physical touches. Especially seungmin.
It was like any other day, all you did was work work and work. Have you even had any breaks?? Just packed schedules with your boss bossing you around like you were some kind of robot.
After hours of you being overworked it finally ceased. You finally had a chance to go home and rest to relax.
You took a quick cold and refreshing shower coming out feeling very refreshed and clean.
Inspecting through your wardrobe you smiled once you’ve finally found your favorite pair of pajamas.
You quickly slipped in on before collapsing onto your bed. You let out a sigh feeling welcomed by the soft and plush mattress.
You’re finally able to relax allowing yourself to be fully enveloped by the plush mattress, without someone throwing you around like a rag doll or nagging into your head.
You heard muffling sounds of the door opening and closing shut, footsteps echoing through the hallways. No you weren’t bothered by it at all. All you wanted to do was fall into a deep slumber.
As you were about to drift off to sleep you felt someone felt a presence behind you before you knew it you felt an arm being wrapped around your waist, drawing your body closer to their chest.
Highly bewildered you whipped your head around only to see seungmin holding onto you tightly.
You were about to speak but he cut you off burying your face in his chest.
His touch was gentle, warm and welcoming. You can’t lie, you absolutely loved this feeling.
He seemed to be lost in his own world. You didn’t want to be the one to ruin it but you had to ask. This behavior was stranger considering he was the one who absolutely hated physical touches.
You finally muttered up the courage to ask. “Min….are you good?” You asked softly glancing back up at him.
He didn’t say anything. Instead he changed positions burying his face in your chest.
He was obviously in a frail state, he needed comfort.
Hesitantly your hands began to find its way through his scalp massaging it softly. You heard a low and soft hum escape from his lips.
He pulled you closer his hands still around your waist as he pulled you even more closer, your legs tangled under the layers of the bed sheet, leaving your heart beating at an extremely fast rate.
Suddenly he pulled away catching you off guard. “Ah i’m so sorry, I must have made you feel uncomfortable, I didn’t ask for your permission, I was just really tired and stressed I didn’t even—“ he babbled looking down in embarrassment
You immediately interfered. “Hey, no it doesn’t make me uncomfortable and you don’t need to ask for permission” you reassured Smiling softly.
He looked at you with a skeptical look. “Are you sure about it?, so we can continue?”
You nodded then felt yourself being pulled back into the bed.
He buried your face into his chest once again. His hot breath tickling against your neck.
“Mmm let’s do this more often” he asserted.
“Why not” you agreed getting more comfortable in his arms. Soon you both drifted off to sleep with you in his arms and his arms around your waist.
#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids reactions#stray kids seungmin#seungmin x reader#seungmin x you#seungmin fluff
323 notes
·
View notes
Text
confessions !
characters: yami sukehiro, fuegoleon vermillion, nozel silva, & jack.
tags: fluff , multi characters × fem reader!
a/n: making this while you guys wait for the part 2 of the fuegoleon fic. i haven't wrote it yet since my mood doesn't fit the scene and yes, i'm crazy for that. i'm also not very skilled in writing fluffs so it's either you'll find this cringe or whatever you think.
🍁 YAMI SUKEHIRO
The battlefield was chaos. Screams and the clash of steel filled the air, and the stench of blood was thick around you. But you barely noticed any of it, your focus solely on the enemy before you. A massive, hulking beast of a man wielding a blade twice the size of your own was charging toward you, and you knew this would be a fight to the death. You squared your shoulders, bracing for the impact, when suddenly the air around you shifted. A familiar pressure washed over you, and you knew exactly who it was without even turning around “Oi, dumbass!” Yami, the Captain's gruff voice cut through the chaos like a blade. “What do you think you’re doing, going up against that guy alone?” You barely had time to react before the beast swung its sword with brutal force. Just as you prepared to block, Captain was there, his katana intercepting the blow with a force that sent a shockwave through the ground. “Captain—” you started, but his sharp glare cut you off. “Stay back!” he barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ve got this.” But you couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. The Captain is strong, stronger than anyone you knew, but even he had limits. You called on your magic, determined to help, but before you could act, Yami was beside you, grabbing your wrist with a grip that was firm, almost bruising. “I can handle this.” you said, your voice steady, determined. You weren’t about to stand on the sidelines. He didn’t look at you, his eyes still locked on the enemy, but his grip on you tightened just a fraction. “Not this time.” he muttered, his voice low and sharp. “You’re not doing anything reckless. I won’t let you.” “You mean more to me than you think, Y/N,” he said, his tone almost a growl. “So don’t go doin’ something stupid, got it?“ The words hit you harder than expected. You stood there, completely caught off guard, your thoughts scrambling for a response, but nothing came out. you just stood there, the weight of his words sinking in. Was that… a confession? Did Yami just admit that he cared about you—really cared about you? Your heart started to race, the battlefield around you fading as your thoughts spiraled. Before you could fully process it, Yami let go of your wrist and turned back to the battle, his katana already sparking with dark energy. "Stay put, and let me handle this!" he ordered, his voice rough and commanding as he charged back at the monster, a whirlwind of raw power and stubborn determination. You were left standing there, your wrist still tingling where he’d grabbed you, your mind reeling from what just happened. Yami’s words echoed in your head, each beat of your heart pounding louder in your ears. The realization hit you like a lightning bolt, sending a rush of warmth and adrenaline through your body. Your heart was racing now, not from the danger of the battle, but from the knowledge that Captain—brash, stubborn, and infuriatingly reckless Captain—cared about you in a way you hadn’t dared to hope. And as you watched him fight, every swing of his katana full of raw power and determination, you couldn’t help but feel the same. Yami meant more to you than you’d realized, and now, standing on the battlefield with the world falling apart around you, it felt like everything had just changed in an instant.
🍁 FUEGOLEON VERMILLION
The sun was setting over the Vermillion estate, bathing the garden in a warm, golden hue. Fuegoleon had invited you, his childhood friend and longtime maid, for a rare moment of relaxation away from the usual hustle of the castle.
As you walked alongside Fuegoleon through the garden’s winding paths, the fragrance of blooming flowers filled the air. He led you to a small table where tea and pastries were laid out, a simple yet elegant setting that was a departure from his typical commanding presence.
You took a seat, admiring the tranquility of the garden. Fuegoleon, usually so composed and stern, looked almost out of place in this serene setting. He poured the tea with a practiced hand, his movements deliberate yet gentle.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve had a moment like this.” you said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Remember when we used to play in this garden as kids?”
Fuegoleon smiled, a rare and genuine expression that softened his usually stern features. “Of course, I remember. You were always trying to catch the butterflies, and I was always trying to keep you from getting tangled in the bushes.”
You laughed softly. “And you always ended up covered in mud while trying to rescue me. We had some pretty wild adventures.”
“It’s funny.” you said, your voice softening as you looked around the garden. “I never thought we’d end up in such different places. You as the captain of the Crimson Lions and me here, still at the estate, but it feels like nothing has changed between us.”
Fuegoleon’s gaze lingered on you, his expression thoughtful. “I’ve missed these moments. It’s rare for me to have a chance to just sit and talk like this, without the weight of responsibilities pressing down.”
There was a pause as he set down his teacup, taking a deep breath as if gathering his thoughts. He looked at you with a mix of nostalgia and something more intense, a vulnerability that you hadn’t seen in him before.
“You know, Y/n,” Fuegoleon began, his voice carrying a sincerity that matched the peaceful setting, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how our lives have changed, and how much I’ve come to value these rare moments with you.”
He reached out as if to take your hand, his gaze steady and earnest. “I’ve realized that my feelings for you have grown deeper than I ever imagined. I’ve been holding back, but I can’t ignore it any longer.”
Just as he was about to grasp your hand, a lion from the estate’s stables, curious and playful, bounded into the garden. It darted towards you, its exuberance catching you off guard. In a moment of chaotic energy, the lion accidentally collided with you, sending you tumbling into the nearby bushes.
Fuegoleon’s hand was still reaching out to you, and as the lion’s sudden movement pulled you into the bush, it yanked him along too. Both of you fell into the soft, green bushes, landing in a heap.
For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant roar of the lion, who seemed more curious than menacing. Then, laughter bubbled up from both of you, the absurdity of the situation breaking the tension.
Fuegoleon looked at you, his face flushed with a mix of laughter and embarrassment. “Well, it looks like some things never change.” he said, grinning as he gently disentangled himself from the bushes.
You smiled, brushing leaves from your hair. “I suppose some traditions are meant to be upheld.”
As you both stood up, dusting yourselves off, the moment of levity brought you even closer.
Fuegoleon’s earlier confession was still hanging in the air, and as you met his gaze again, the sincerity of his words felt even more poignant against the backdrop of shared laughter and familiar comfort.
You took his hand, the connection between you feeling more real and immediate than ever. “I think I’m glad we ended up here, despite the lion.” you said softly. “Your confession means a lot to me.”
Fuegoleon’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting both relief and happiness. “I’m glad to hear that, Y/n.”
With the sun setting behind you and the garden’s tranquility restored, you both settled back onto the grassy area, the earlier conversation picking up where it left off. The bond between you felt renewed, strengthened by both the laughter and the heartfelt confession that had brought you closer together.
🍁 NOZEL SILVA
Nozel and you were set up in an arranged marriage that initially felt loveless and obligatory. The first years were filled with formality and distance, with both of you merely fulfilling your roles. But as time passed, the boundaries of your arranged marriage began to blur. Through countless conversations and shared experiences, you both started to see each other in a new light, growing closer in a way neither of you had anticipated.
One evening, Nozel invited you to a secluded, elevated spot fat from the estate, known for its stunning view of the night sky. The place was a peaceful hill, far from the castle’s lights and noise, where the stars shone brightly, creating a serene and intimate atmosphere.
As you arrived, Nozel had prepared a cozy setup with a blanket and some snacks. The cool night air and the distant sounds of nature added to the calming ambiance. You both settled onto the blanket, the stars providing a beautiful backdrop for your conversation.
The night began with light and casual topics. Nozel, usually so composed, seemed more relaxed than usual. “You know, Y/n,” he began, looking up at the stars, “I used to think I knew everything about the world, but I never really took the time to look up and appreciate the sky like this.”
You smiled, glancing around at the view. “I feel the same way. It’s amazing how different everything looks when you take a moment to really observe it.”
The conversation naturally flowed, touching on favorite hobbies and shared experiences. “So,” you asked with a curious smile, “what’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but never had the chance to?”
Nozel thought for a moment before answering, “I’ve always wanted to learn more about the stars. They’ve fascinated me since I was a child, but I never had the time to study them properly. It’s funny how we get so caught up in our duties that we forget to enjoy the simple things.”
You nodded in agreement. “I’ve always found stargazing calming. It’s like a reminder of how vast the world is and how small our daily worries can seem.”
As the night wore on, the conversation deepened, touching on more personal reflections. Nozel spoke about his responsibilities and how they had shaped him, while you shared your thoughts on the changes you’d seen in your own life over the years.
Eventually, the conversation took a more introspective turn. Nozel, his gaze still fixed on the stars, seemed to be gathering his thoughts. “Y/n, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say,” he began, his voice carrying a hint of hesitation. “When we first married, it was all about duty and obligation. We barely knew each other, and our relationship felt like just another formality.”
You looked at him, sensing the gravity in his tone. “Yes, I remember. It was a difficult adjustment, and I think we both struggled with it.”
Nozel continued, his voice growing softer. “But over time, as we’ve spent more time together and talked about so many things, I’ve come to see you in a different light. You’re not just a duty to me, you’re someone I genuinely care about and admire.”
He turned to face you, his expression earnest and vulnerable. “Tonight, I want to ask you something important. Will you marry me again, but this time not out of obligation or force, but because we’ve truly come to care for each other? I want our marriage to be based on something real, on mutual affection and understanding.”
His words hung in the air, and you felt a rush of emotions. The sincerity in his voice and the intimate setting made the moment feel profoundly special.
You looked at Nozel, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “I never imagined we’d come to this point, but I’m so glad that we have. I’ve come to care for you deeply as well. I’d be honored to marry you again, not out of duty, but because I want to be with you.”
Nozel’s face lit up with relief and happiness. He reached out, taking your hand gently. As Nozel finished his heartfelt confession, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, elegant box. He opened it to reveal a delicate ring, glistening under the starlight. With a gentle smile, he took your hand and carefully slid the ring onto your finger.
“This is a symbol of my promise,” he said softly, his eyes fixed on yours. “A promise that this time, our marriage will be based on something real, something deep.”
He then raised your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the ring. The gesture was filled with sincerity and affection, sealing the new chapter of your relationship with a touch of romance and commitment.
As the stars twinkled above, Nozel leaned closer, his gaze locked on yours. Slowly, he cupped your face with both hands, his touch warm and tender. Without breaking eye contact, he gently kissed you. The kiss was soft and filled with the unspoken promises of a future together, sealing the new beginning you had both longed for.
The night was filled with the warmth of your shared connection, and as you pulled away, you both felt an overwhelming sense of peace and joy. The stars above seemed to celebrate your renewed bond, making the moment even more unforgettable.
🍁 JACK
After weeks of a grueling mission in the forest, Jack had found you, injured and frail. Despite his usual indifference, he took you in, treating your wounds and caring for you. Over the past few weeks, you had traveled together, with Jack handling the heavy lifting while you rested and recovered.
One night, under the canopy of the forest, Jack set up a small campfire and began cooking a meal with the skill of someone who’s surprisingly adept in the kitchen. The warmth of the fire contrasted with the cool night air, creating a cozy environment. You sat nearby, wrapped in a blanket, watching Jack with a mix of gratitude and curiosity.
As Jack cooked, he tossed ingredients into the pot with practiced ease. “You know,” he said, his tone gruff but with a hint of satisfaction, “I’ve had to learn a thing or two about cooking. Can’t rely on others to feed me all the time.”
You smiled, taking in the delicious aroma. “I’m impressed. I didn’t expect you to be so good at it.”
Jack smirked as he stirred the pot. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. I only cook when I have to. And right now, I’d rather not eat whatever’s in those trail rations again.”
As the two of you shared the meal, the conversation flowed naturally. You talked about the oddities of the forest, the challenges of the mission, and your own experiences.
At one point, you asked, “So, Jack, what’s the most memorable mission you’ve had?”
Jack’s eyes lit up with a hint of mischief. “Most memorable? Well, there was this one time I had to track a rogue mage through a storm. Not only did I have to fight off a bunch of monsters, but I also had to navigate through a blizzard. Made for one hell of a story.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds intense. I’m glad you made it through.”
Jack shrugged. “Eh, it’s all part of the job. But enough about me. What about you? Ever done anything wild?”
Before you could answer, a bear emerged from the shadows, attacking without warning. Jack’s instincts kicked in immediately. He pushed you aside to protect you, engaging the bear in a fierce struggle. Despite his best efforts, the bear’s claws left deep scratches on Jack.
Once the bear was defeated, you rushed to Jack's side, leading him back to the cave you had been using as temporary shelter. As you tended to his wounds, Jack watched you with a mix of pain and something softer, though he tried to keep his usual gruff demeanor.
“You don’t have to go all out for me, you know,” Jack said, wincing slightly. “I’m used to roughing it.”
You looked up from his wounds, shaking your head. “It’s not about having to. It’s about wanting to. You’ve been looking out for me this whole time.”
Jack shifted uncomfortably, his voice dropping to a softer, almost embarrassed tone. “Yeah, well… It’s not like I’ve been doing it because I’m all noble or anything. I just—”
He hesitated, his usual bravado faltering. “I guess… I guess I’ve kind of grown used to having you around. And, uh, it’s not just because you needed help. I care about you, Y/n. More than I thought I could care about anyone.”
He looked away, trying to mask his embarrassment. “So, yeah. Don’t think I’m some weak shit or anything. I just wanted to say that… if you’re up for it, I’d like to keep you around. Not just for missions or whatever, but because I actually like having you by my side.”
You were taken aback by his confession, a smile spreading across your face as you looked at him. “Jack, I didn’t think you were the type to—”
“Hey! don’t make a big deal out of it,” Jack interrupted, though his voice was gentle. “Just… let’s stick together, alright?”
Before you could respond, Jack pulled you into a hug, his rough exterior softened by the warmth of the moment. You felt his heartbeat steady against yours, and as the night grew quieter around you, the bond between you felt deeper and more genuine.
#black clover#yami sukehiro#fuegoleon vermillion#nozel silva#jack the ripper#yami sukehiro x reader#fuegoleon vermillion x reader#nozel silva x reader#fluff#eliah.works
216 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Triceratons Experiment: part 2 (Angst) (18+)
2003!Turtles, Donatello x reader
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7707edce4e3d52101d7190600c6ca74b/4172ae958580dd77-08/s250x250_c1/f804f555b1cce8b3b5dc592cce3f9324433809c5.webp)
Intro Part 1 (18+) / Part 3 (18+)
A/N: Finally! Finally I’ve been able to write part 2! I know some of you have been waiting for this for quite some time, and it’s finally here! Hope it was worth the wait💜💚
All characters are aged up.
Warnings: Loooong (but we do like that), lust drug?, mildly forced?, forced injection, fingering, being watched, orale - female receiving, orgasm denial?
What Mikey had told Donatello and his brothers, had the purple clad turtle on edge. As a man of science, the unethical ways the triceratons went around their so called experiments, left a bad taste in Donnie’s mouth. He did not like what Mikey just had told him, and furthermore, Donnie had a feeling that this wasn’t the last they would see of the triceraton “professor”. But Donnie would have no idea how quickly his suspicions would come to pass.
The next day started like the day before. The turtles were woken up along with the rest of the prisoners, and told to head for the cantina for food. However, as the turtles made their way down the hallway, they were stopped by the guards, stretching their hands out and blocking their way.
“Halt here”, the nearest guard grumbled, scowling at the turtles.
“Why?”, Raph asked, already feeling agitated. He was hungry, even if it was for a plate full of horrible alien beige goop.
But the guard did not answer him. Instead they intensely stared at each other. Raph waiting for the guard to answer, and the guard expecting Raph to stand down. But neither of them did, standing strong in their silent power struggle. But finally the guard gave in with an agitated look.
“Crowd control. We can’t let all prisoners in at once”, the guard grumbled.
“Since when?”, Donnie asked, confused yet slightly annoyed. It made no sense to him. But the guard did not answer, instead he turned with his side facing the turtles, making it clear that he wasn’t interested in talking, leaving the turtles in silence for some time.
None of the turtles had any way of knowing how long they stood in that hall, waiting for the time they were allowed to go into the cantine. And as the time went on, their already present hunger had started growing, their stomach growling loudly. Raph’s anger and frustration grew as well, to the point where his brothers had to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, in order to calm him down.
Then, finally. Finally the turtles were allowed to go down the hall, making their way to the cantine. Mikey and Raph practically sprinted, not caring what kind of horrible food was left. They just wanted something. But as soon as the two of them came to the cantine, just ahead of their brothers, they were sad and horrified to learn that there was no more food.
Mikey kept pulling on the handle, hoping that a little bit of that beige goop would come out into his bowl, but nothing came. There was no more food.
“They did that on purpose!”, Raph spat, throwing his bowl and spoon on the table in distaine, before sitting down with his brothers. “Fucking triceratons! If I could get my hand on them I would-”.
“Raph!”, Leo exclaimed, cutting his brother off with a stern voice, his face matching his tone.
“What?!”, the red turtle asked, still fuming his anger.
Leo didn’t say a word, but with the same stern look, be pointed to level above them. Raph turned to look up, and found what Leo was talking about. On the floor above, professor Exzor stood with his clipboard, surrounded by guards, looking down at them, taking notes on his board.
“They’re doing it on purpose”, Donnie mumbled, not taking his eyes from the professor in his white lab coat. “It’s probably his idea. A way to force us into giving in to what he wants”.
“You’re telling me that that piece of shit doesn’t think he’s done after yesterday?!”, Raph boomed, fighting not to jump at the nearest guard.
“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you”, Donnie calmly said. “Now, sit down before you give them a reason to go at us”.
With a scowl Raph finally sat down, staring angrily at the table, his knee bouncing under him.
“Aw man!”, Mikey whined, laying down on the table. “I was looking forward to food!”
Donnie and Leo exchanged looks before side eyeing the triceraton on the balcony above. Both had a feeling there soon would be an offer of food coming their way…
—
Once back in their cell, all four stomachs were growling like never before. Raph was getting angry, walking in circles, mumbling and growling. Mikey was once again sitting on the bench, talking about the human girl from yesterday. Though he had been surprised and shaken by the events, he nonetheless had found you very attractive. So attractive he would still mention you out of nowhere before rambling on. Both Leo and Donnie found themselves in deep silence, trying to figure out what was going on.
Suddenly the door slid open, once again revealing six triceraton guards with their weapons ready at hand.
“Face against the walls!”, they roared, marching into the small room. For a moment, Raph looked like he was ready to attack, but with a sharp look from Leo, he let out a small grumble before turning around to face the wall.
With every turtle turned and facing the walls with a guard behind them, professor Exzor made an entrance. For a moment, just a brief moment, Mikey hoped he came to pick him out once more. Though yesterday had been quite a shocker, he wouldn’t mind seeing you again. And if he actually would be allowed to have his time with you this time, he would have absolutely nothing against it. But Exzor didn’t go for Mikey this time around. Instead he went directly over to the guard that stood with Donnie.
“This one”.
“What makes ya think he wants to go?”, Raph suddenly perked up. “After what ya did to my brother, ya be having some nerve coming in here-!”
“Raph!”, Leo yelled out in a stern voice, causing his brother to shut his mouth instantly. “Shut it”. Raph tensened his jaw, letting out a strained sigh. He hated this so much.
Donnie didn’t really say a word as the guards escorted him out. And for some reason, he wasn’t too scared. No, he was thinking. He was too busy throwing glances towards professor Exzor to be fearful, his mind working trying to figure out what was going on.
They guided Donnie down one long hall after another, until they finally came to what Donnie assumed was professor Exzor’s laboratory. Under any other circumstances, Donnie might have been fascinated by it, wanting to get a closer look at the different machinery all around. But not today. Right now, he stood out in the middle of the room, all six guards standing by the walls, while professor Exzor went around the room, getting things ready.
“You’re probably wondering why I chose you today, aren’t you?”, Exzor asked, still not looking at Donnie.
“Because you want a different test subject than yesterday?”, Donnie asked innocently, acting as if he didn’t already knew.
This time professor Exzor finally looked up at him. He stared at him for a moment, before putting his hands behind his back, slowly wandering over to Donnie, slowly walking around him, taking a look at him, before stopping right in front of him, his horn up in the air as he did so.
“You seem like the smarter one of you four”, Exzor said, looking at Donnie down the bridge of his horn. “Am I right to assume that?”
“I like to think so”, Donnie calmly answered.
Exzor nodded a few times before stepping back, moving over to a strap table, setting things up for whatever he had planned for.
“Are you a scientist yourself?”, he asked with his back turned to Donnie, hands busy on the side table.
“I am”.
“I had a feeling you were”, Exzor said. “That’s why I picked you for today”.
“What do you have planned for today?”, Donnie asked, studying the way Exzor moved, along with what he was getting ready by the table.
Exzor stood for a moment, thinking his words through before he spoke. “Do you know a lot about humans?”
Donnie frowned his brows. “A thing or two”.
“What about human biology?"
“A few things as well”, Donnie said, feeling his hands getting clammy. “Some of my friends are human. I know enough in case they need medical attention”. Donnie wanted to ask why, but he had a feeling he would know soon. All day he had had a feeling he would learn something today.
“Have you ever gotten hands on with a human?”
This question took Donnie a little aback. He had never been asked such a question. He had never even allowed himself to think of such a thing. Him, a mutant turtle getting hands on with a human? No way.
“No, never”.
Exzor turned back towards Donnie, this time with a small self satisfied smile. He was finally going to explain. “Your brother has probably already told you about the human girl we have, right? I thought so. She’s an interesting specimen. We found her in an unknown spaceship, cruising around at the edge of the galaxy. We believed she was a spy from the Federation, but she kept saying she was from a planet named Earth. She wasn’t very convincing so we didn’t believe her. Yet she’s the only human we’ve ever had in captivity. It would be idiotic to get rid of her, when she could provide useful information about the mental and physical workings of our enemy. Yet there was only so much we could learn about with only one specimen. But then you and your brothers showed up, stating you were from planet Earth. That suddenly provided us with a whole new opportunity”, professor Exzor said, taking a hold of what he had been working with on the side table. Gloves… High tech gloves… “Though you and your brothers may not be the same species as her, you are from the same planet. That can be just as useful as well”. Exzor took a hold of Donnie’s hands, forcing the three fingered gloves on his hands. “These gloves are made to scan and read the subject. What we want you to do is touch the subject in specific areas, so that we can have our readings”.
“And why exactly do I have to do it?”, Donnie asked, somewhat fascinated by the gloves.
“Because no triceraton is so low as to touch a human in that manner. Disgusting!”, Exzor said sternly, almost offended that Donnie could even ask such a question. “Bring in the subject for testing!”
Another set of doors slides open, revealing two more guards, dragging in a woman wearing what looked like what Donnie could only describe as a hospital gown. Suddenly Donnie understood why Mikey kept talking about you - you were beautiful. A very attractive woman. You made him freeze on the spot and stare with wide eyes as they strapped you onto the table, hands and arms restrained, legs open wide in front of Donnie. He instinctively avoided his eyes, trying to be gentlemanly. But given the whole situation, it was kind of hard for him to do. That was when the two of you made eye contact, and Donnie felt a strange feeling in his stomach, remembering all the things Mikey had told him. Why did Mikey have to tell him all those things? And why did he have to remember them right now.
Professor Exzor told the guards to stand clear, before moving to a computer screen, pressing a few buttons on the keyboard before suddenly turning back towards the guards.
“Give them the shots”.
Before Donnie was able to react, he was grabbed by two guards, one holding his arm out, ready and exposed. He tried to put up a struggle, but realized it was no use. They had him in a lab. Resisting would only cause him, and maybe even you, more problems.
You and Donnie watched the guards with wide observant eyes, as they came in closer, two syringes at the ready. One for you and one for Donnie, filled with a violet substance. You immediately began struggling against your restraints when you saw it. Donnie immediately knew what it was. Whatever gas they had used on you and Mikey yesterday, it was that in liquid form.
“What is that?”, Donnie asked, keeping his voice calm, trying to sound curious, hoping it would make Exzor talk. But the triceraton didn’t budge so easily.
“You’ll figure it out”, was all he said, not looking up from his computer screen once.
Grabbing a hold of your arms, the guards injected you and Donnie with the pinkish, violet liquid, before quickly taking a few steps back from the two of you.
“Now”, professor Exzor said with a stern voice directed at Donnie. “Before the effects set in, put your hands on her angels”.
Donnie gave you an apologetic look before doing as he was told, closing his eyes for a moment when he felt your leg under his gloves. He would lie if he said he didn’t already feel the effects slowly kick in. His senses was already getting heightened, the scent of you slowly getting stronger and stronger. Along with another scent from you… oh no. It was kicking in for you as well. Donnie could understand what Mikey was talking about now. You already smelled so good. Why did you have to smell so good?
“Move your hands further up”, the professor said, still not looking up, somehow sounding even less interested than before.
Donnie already wanted to shoot him a death stare. Somehow the sound of Exzor’s voice made him feel like he was being ripped straight out of a pleasant state of peace. He did as he was told and moved his hands further up, noticing how your legs tensed up and your scent getting stronger. How easy it would be for Donnie to just slide his hands further up, lifting your hospital gown just a little…
“Don’t hold yourself back”, Exzor’s voice sounded once again, reading whatever came up on his screen. “The more you explore, the more information I get”.
Donnie looked back at your eyes, only to find you pupils blown wide already. From the sweat he was feeling forming on his own body, he was sure he looked the same. He sheared your eyes for permission, and to his surprise, you gave it to him. Giving him a small nod. Remembering what Mikey had told him from yesterday, you probably still had a lot of pent up emotions from yesterday. And with that, Donnie gave in, sliding your gown up so that he had a full view of you, the scent of your arousal smacking him in the face.
Donnie stood and stared for a moment, just the sight of your most private area making him go dizzy. Never had he seen a woman up close, nor been able to smell a woman like this. He couldn’t tell if it was because of your scent or the dose running through his veins at the moment, but it was making him feel like he was a week away from his mating season.
Donnie’s hands settled on where your thighs met your hips, pushing your legs further apart for him, his thumbs subconsciously making small circles against your skin, making small whimpers escape you. It didn’t take much to figure out that you were already feeling the effects, and that they were already hitting you strong. Just the feeling of Donnie’s hands on you making you tense with neediness under him.
You laid there before him, your eyes closed and your hands holding onto the restraints. Donnie caught the sight of your tongue wetting your lips, the stuff in his blood already creating images of what that tongue would be capable of doing to him…
“Please”, you whimpered, bringing Donnie back to reality, his abdomen tightening at the sound of your voice. The first time he had heard your voice, leaving him stunned. You sounded just as beautiful as you looked. Your legs quivered, trying to close so that you could create some friction yourself. “Please do something”.
Donnie’s brain went into reboot. He had never thought he would get to hear a woman beg for him to touch her - to do something to her. Yet here he was, with your legs spread wide open for him, though under rather dubious circumstances.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of staring, Donnie finally dared to touch your most intimate zone, letting his thumb grace over your clit. The slight touch made your hip buckle and a small sound of pleasure leaving your mouth. Donnie took a deep breath, taking in the strong scent of your arousal, totally forgetting about the triceraton guards standing around by the walls. Frozen like statues, not even looking at the two of you. It was as if your doings weren’t interesting to them at all.
Pressing this thumb a little firmer against your bundle of nerves, Donnie watched your reaction. You opened your eyes, trying to look down at his hand on you, heavy breathing and hands shaking. You needed more, your eyes silently begging him to do more. And so, Donnie started moving his glove covered thumb in small circles on your clit, causing you to cry out under him.
“Shit!”, you cursed, buckling your hips against him once more. Donnie couldn’t stop himself from churring lowly in his chest at the sound, the hand on your thigh tightening, pushing you even further open with a small increase of force, your head falling back. “Don’t stop”.
Donnie ignored the sound of the triceraton professor pressing the keys on the computer keyboard, focusing on your sounds, your smell and the expression on your face, pressing his thumb firmer against you. You slammed your foot against the table, moving your hips, forcing Donnie to use his other hand, placing it on the side of your hip and keeping you down against the table.
With his thumb still moving against you, he moved one other finger to your folds, gliding his finger through them. How he wished he could be doing this without gloves, so that he could feel your wetness against his skin…
Donnie’s finger glided through your folds until he found your entrance. He did not ask for your permission, feeling both you and his need growing with every second, instead pushing his finger into you, sliding into you with ease. You let out a loud moan that took both you and Donnie by surprise. Yet it fuelled something within him that he didn’t even know was there.
“Is that what you needed?”, Donnie asked as he started to move his finger inside of you, causing you to squirm underneath him.
“Yes”, you whimpered, your restrained hands moving to hold onto the table. Donnie could only imagine how pent up you had been yesterday, finally gaining some sort of release. “Faster, please”.
Donnie hummed at your words, doing just as you told him to, speeding up the movement of his finger, curling it up inside of you. Your reaction was better than he had expected, one moan falling from your parted lip after another. He felt that pressure against the inside of his cloaca, which he grown familiar with throughout his many mating seasons. How he just wanted to drop on the spot a slam into you, as if there was no one around the two of you. But he restrained himself, growling at the strong pressure within him, instead adding a second finger into your clenching hole, watching as your juices gathered up around his digits.
Your legs started kicking against your restraints, your muscles tensing and relaxing as he stimulated your nerves, his fingers hitting the sweet spot deep inside of you. One would not be wrong for believing that he was a master at this, that this wasn’t his first time at the rodeo. Donnie couldn’t explain it. His actions just felt natural at that moment.
You clenched around Donnie’s fingers making him groan, thoughts of how you would clench around him running through his head. You were intoxicating, every sound from you dulling the fire in his veins, yet edging him on, telling him that he needed more. That you needed more.
Donnie couldn’t help but press a kiss to your knee, making you look up at him, your eyes pleading for him. Pleading for him to continue what he was doing. To do more of it. So Donnie did, his lips going from your knee to hovering just above where his thumb was rubbing circles on you. You whimpered when you felt Donnie’s breath on you, your excitement for the feeling of his lips where you needed him the most, almost turning into anxiety of the thought of him not doing it. Flashes of what happened yesterday appeared in your head. The pain and need you felt for hours after the guards had broken you and the other guy apart. You had had no release, and the slowly growing feeling made you almost anxious. You wanted nothing more to cum, letting your juices drench this guy’s face. You still didn’t know he or his brothers names, yet in that moment you were desperate for either one of them to make you cum, just to stop the growing burning feeling inside of you.
Donnie replaced his thumb with his lips, giving your bundle a small lick before attaching his lips with small sucks. This action caused you to let out another loud moan, arching your back, once again struggling against the restraints. Donnie’s fingers speed up, so did his tongue continuing to do fast small licks on you, while the hand that had been holding you down, slowly sliding up under your gown, reaching to grab a hold of your chest. You and Donnie was so far gone in what you were doing, that you didn’t hear professor Exzor mumbling “interesting”, at what he saw on his screen.
You were so close, your mouth open wide, your eyes closed shut, and your body squirming underneath Donnie. He could feel how close you were, driven by a primal instinct to make you climax on him. You were so close. So close that Donnie could almost taste more than your sweet and salty juices. So close…
“Okay, that’s enough”, Exzor said to the guards. “I got the data I need for now. Put him in a holding cell before you bring him back to the others. Just send her straight to her cell”.
It felt sudden to you and Donnie when the guards grabbed a hold of him, pulling him away from you. You let out an almost pained scream, knowing that your possibility of release was once again being pulled from you. Donnie was like a wild animal at this point, fighting against the guards that were trying to restrain him.
“Let me go!”, he yelled, trying to pull his arm away from them with as much force as possible, only causing the guards to get more aggressive towards him. However, with eight guards around, it was only a matter of time before they were able to overpower him, and escort him out of the lab, so that they could place him in a holding cell. But just before they managed to get him out of the door, Donnie managed to get a look back at you, fighting against the restraints on the strap table. He caught your eyes, seeing how you silently pleaded for help. And suddenly Donnie understood why Mikey couldn’t stop talking about you.
—
“Log 67 on Human Studies by Professor Exzor. Date: the eighth of galamion, in the year 56 of the Triceraton Republic.
Today’s experiment once again proved a success. The turtle specimen marked purple has proved to be just as useful as theorized. With their help, I have been able to obtain more information about the human reproductive system, as well as their nerve system, along with a long theorized connection with humans' perception of pain and pleasure.
With today’s obtained data, I can now green light tomorrow's experiment, focusing further on humans’ connection between pain and pleasure, using the turtle marked red.
For the Republic”.
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt leonardo#tmnt donatello#tmnt raphael#tmnt michelangelo#tmnt raph#tmnt donnie#tmnt leo#tmnt mikey#tmnt x reader#tmnt x reader smut#tmnt donnie x reader#tmnt donnie x reader smut#tmnt donatello x reader#tmnt donatello x reader smut#tmnt 2003#tmnt 2003 x reader#tmnt 2003 x reader smut#tmnt smut#tmnt 2003 donnie x reader#tmnt 2003 donnie x reader smut#tmnt 2003 donatello#tmnt 2003 donatello x reader#tmnt 2003 donatello x reader smut#tmnt leo x reader#tmnt leo x reader smut#tmnt leonardo x reader#tmnt leonardo x reader smut#tmnt raph x reader
159 notes
·
View notes
Note
okay buttt peter is constantly protected. not bc of spiderman but bc of his big scary dog privileges (his little scary gf)
*insert barking*
Peter could easily protect himself if need be.
You do not agree.
“Fuckin watch where you’re walking, man.”
Peter wasn’t even at fault! The guy walked into him, and Peter’s too nice to say anything, he just nodded and moved you to the side, you refused to accept it.
“Excuse me!”
Peter pushed at your neck, his hand wrapped around the back. You shrugged him off and turned towards the offender.
“You walked into him, you don’t get to be nasty. Maybe if you took your head out of your own ass you could admit your own faults!”
The guy’s eyesight skimmed over your head to Peter’s, “watch your girl.”
You boiled.
“Watch? Like I’m a fucking dog? If anyone here needs to watch out it’s you! Because you’re a misogynist piece of sh-” your words blocked by the hand cupped over your mouth, you still shouted them but they were muffled by your boyfriends hand.
“Have a good day, man.”
You huffed, Peter’s just blowing off blatant disrespect, your hands started to pull at the one over your mouth, heated muffles started back up. His hold tightened, then repeated his words.
When the stranger stalked off you slapped the hand over your mouth, “ you can’t just silence me!”
“I just did, keep walking, trouble.”
—-----------
Your boyfriend has been trying to settle you on the walk home, it hasn’t worked.
“Baby, please. I know you’re upset but-”
“He almost hit you!”
You’re whisper shouting in the hallway in front of his door, his back is turned while he turns the key. He sighs with your complaint.
“I know he did, but that just proves there’s no reason to get so angry.”
“You always do this, Peter! You make me out to be this hothead when I’m just trying to protect you.”
Peter rubs at his forehead, the frustration a little too high.
“I don’t need you to protect me!”
You freeze at his loud tone, his aunt comes creeping from the kitchen, ready to jump in if needed.
“I just care about you.” You uttered the words, you knew they’d be pointless.
“I’m glad you do, baby. But you start fights and guess who has to finish them every time?”
“But if you would just say something then I wouldn’t have to jump-”
Peter cut you off, sharply and loudly, it made you wince.
“I’m trying to avoid a fight! You may think it’s cute to have your personal superhero at your disposal but I don’t like having to punch guys just because they think my girlfriend is a bitch.”
You stutter, “a bitch?”
Your boyfriend takes a deep breath, “all I’m saying is, not everything deserves a reaction.”
If Peter doesn’t like you reacting or trying to cover his back, you won’t. You won’t waste energy where it wasn’t wanted, and like he said, you weren’t trying to make him finish your fights.
“Okay. I’ll… I’ll react less.”
It made him feel bad, he shouldn’t have oozed frustration on you, that guy really pissed him off too, but that doesn’t mean he has to confront him or fight him.
“Hey, c’mere, trouble. Gimme a hug,” you tuck yourself into his chest, you grip the sides of his shirt tight. He holds you close and talks into your ear, “I’m sorry for yelling,” he didn’t yell but you tell him it’s okay.
“You’re not a bitch, that’s why I gotta kick ass when someone calls you one.”
You smile into his shirt and nudge him away, “you won’t have to deal with that anymore.”
—--------------------
Peter misses his guard dog. He didn’t realize how much you stood up for him until he lost it.
“Ah, they gave me the wrong coffee.”
Normally, you’d grunt and stomp to the front for them to make it right.
This time you pout, “that sucks, petey. Want some of mine?”
He blinks, he’s not used to this.
“No… no, it’s okay, I’ll um, go get a new one. Hang here?”
The new coffee didn't taste as good when he had to work for it.
Or at the movies.
“I mean I know there are open seats still, but there’s a reason why they have you reserve them. I mean, it’s the principle.”
You pat his arm, “it’s alright, honey. Let's sit a row behind them.”
Your boyfriend pulled his arm from yours, “no, let’s not sit behind them. Because we’ll be the people that take seats from someone else.”
He was hoping you’d catch the hint and pester the friends that took your seats, instead you shrug.
“You could tell an usher, maybe they’ll move then?”
He doesn’t want to be that person.
“No, I mean…” Peter really misses his guard dog, he’d gladly punch anyone who tries to cross you if it meant he could avoid the awkward social interactions.
“Would you-”
A cheshire grin takes over your face, you had been waiting for this moment.
“Yes.” You shove your sweater into his hands and proudly strut up the aisle and seats you were supposed to be in.
“Excuse you,” the two boys look at you, then sit straighter so you can scoot by their knees. You give a delicate laugh, “no, no. Excuse you.”
They flash a look to each other, “you’re in my seats, so please excuse yourselves.”
You were being nicer, Peter told you not everything needed a reaction.
“We’d rather sit here, if it’s cool.” You didn’t like his dismissive tone.
“I’d also like to sit here, since I reserved the seats. If that’s cool.”
“There are like, thirty open seats babe. Take the one next to me if you’re so desperate.”
“Listen here you little prick, these are my seats. There may be thirty open ones but you reserve them for the principal, alright? I won’t sit somewhere else because I’ll be the dick that took someone’s seats and the whole theater will have to play musical chairs because you circle jerkers can’t fucking move.”
Your stare made the loud one sheepish, his friend ready to abandon the post stood.
“Fuckin’ move, Ryan.”
Ryan, the loud one, grumbled as he walked out the aisle. A proud smile takes place, you rest your hands on your hips and wave your boyfriend over.
“Please never stop protecting me, I need it more than I thought.”
You pat his hand on top of the arm rest, “I gotchu, babe.”
#peter parker x reader#tasm! peter parker x reader#peter parker blurb#tasm!peter x reader#peter parker fluff#my writing
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
IDEA!! You know how in most legends and myths involving dragons there’s often a hoard the dragon is protecting? What if the 141 was the hoard of someone (or something) not entirely human. They masquerade as a human and fight alongside the 141 but they’re insanely protective of them and have dragon like abilities. Heat and smoke never seem to bother them. Sometimes the 141 can see the shimmer of scales out of the corner of their eye but when they turn to check it out all they see is their “human” teammate. Maybe they have reptile like tendencies and prefer to have meals alone because they’re “insecure” about their eating habits (they’re actually eating nonhuman food like raw meat or something). Idk, I just really like the idea of the 141 being oblivious to a monster in their midst. Also I really REALLY like dragons
Gaz looked up as the sharp screech of twisting metal met his ears. The guard at his door poked his head out to see what was happening only to jerk and slump, a rather large piece of rebar right between his eyes. Gaz did not want to meet whatever the fuck did that and so scooted the chair he was tied to as far back into the shadows as he could. He tried to keep his breathing even but as the steady clomp of boots on metal grew closer, he couldn't cut it. A hand curled around the door frame and for a second, Gaz would forever swear he saw gleaming copper claws. He blinked and suddenly you were in front of him. Kneeling low as you confidently cut through the rope around his ankles.
"Breathe Sergeant. I got you." Gaz practically melted at the familiar rumble of your voice. He let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding as you moved to the bindings on his chest. Then he was confused.
"It's good to see you lieutenant, but how did you get here?"
You hummed as you finished cutting through his bindings and hauled Gaz to his feet. While there wasn't really any major damage that you could see, you still didn't like finding him like this.
"I called in a favor from an old friend. For all intents and purposes, this was never sanctioned. Now before you go thinking too hard, the others did try to come as well. Unfortunately, they got placed under the equivalent of house arrest by Shepherd. Now come on, our ride is waiting."
Gaz rolled the information over in his mind as you led him through the little facility. Everywhere he looked was some form of evidence of a fight. It looked like something had absolutely ripped through their defences.
--
Ghost startled as he entered the little kitchen of their current base. It was incredibly late at night and he hadn't expected anyone to be awake. You were sitting on the counter, ripped open package of red meat in one hand and a piece of meat midway to your mouth. Ghost raised an eyebrow and you slowly lowered the little chunk back into the tray.
"is this why you never eat with us?" Your fellow lieutenant asked as he grabbed a mug from one of the cupboards. You have a little noncommittal shrug as you set aside your dinner. Ghost popped the mug into the microwave and pulled out a few teabags.
"No need to stop on my account, lieutenant." The microwave beeped and ghost retrieved his mug before plopping the teabags in and promptly exiting the kitchen.
--
Soap raised an eyebrow as you stripped off your jacket and bundled it into your pack. The team was visiting Farah and the desert heat was harsh on all of them. Even Price had taken refuge under the nearest shade cloth. You however just seemed to be perfectly fine in the heat. He thought the heat was finally getting to you. That is until you climbed up on huge flat rock, laid in direct sunlight and promptly fell asleep. You were fucking basking while the rest of the team was baking in the sun. Soap stomped over, sun be damned, and climbed right up beside you. He purposely blocked the sun as he kneeled next to you and raised his hand to slap down in the dead center of your back. That is until your hand shot out and easily caught his wrist. You two briefly wrestled for a minute or two before soap yelped as you scooped him up over your shoulder and carried his ass back over to the others. Farah laughed as you deposited Soap right at Price's feet. A simple no left your mouth in a sort of grumbling growl as you went back to your rock. Soap pouted in the shade but didn't move to try again, as Price handed him a canteen of water.
--
Price watched from the door as you wrestled against Ghost, with Soap and Gaz sitting on the side. You two were dirty fucking fighters. Anytime Ghost flipped you on your back, you'd yank him by his mask or shirt to the side. Anytime you'd flip him on his back, he'd take his nails down any piece of exposed flesh in order to get you to rear back and topple. Price thought it was like watching two feral ass badgers fighting. He decided to intervene when Ghost pinned you and his fingers were just a hair too close to your mouth. Your fangs were on display.
"That's enough boys!" He watched in amusement as You and Ghost scrambled to your feet. "Go clean up, all of you. We got a briefing in twenty. Except you, Drake. I need to talk to you." The rest of the squad exited the training room. Price could practically feel the gossip spinning in their heads.
Price turned to you once the team was down the hall and out of earshot. "We need to talk about that little trip you took."
You tilted your head to the side in confusion. "Little trip, sir?"
"The one you took while the rest of us were under house arrest. The one where you somehow returned with the single missing member of this task force."
You simply hummed, a noncommittal sound, as you tapped your wrist. Price shook his head at your silent question. "Ah my most recent leave. What's the issue?"
Price sighed. "Unfortunately, the higher up want to know how Gaz returned." Price grabbed your shoulder and pulleed you down to his height. "You were not involved in anyway, clear?"
You groaned as the grip on your shoulder tightened. "Loud and clear, sir."
"Good man, now get. I'm sure the others are wondering what kind of ass chewing you just got." Price watched as you walked out the room, defeat lining your shoulders. Good, no need to trouble anyone else with your little rescue mission. Price glanced down at his hand. He hadn't meant to grab you that hard but he had to get the point across. There was a red lined imprint of scales in the center of his palm.
#call of duty x reader#cod mw2#eld writes#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mactavish#141 x reader#simon ghost riley#taskforce 141#captain john price#eldritch reader#monster reader#dragon reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
thinking about art x fem reader whose also a tennis player, she gets hurt playing practice against art and he feels so bad.. leading to other things to help her feel better
like best friends to lovers type thing IDK JUST A THOUGHT for a blurb
IM LOVING THIS IDEA THANK U ANON! <3 (this was meant to be shorter but i got so carried away with it lmao)
tags: heavy makeout, slight dry-humping, fingering...
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/cf23664daa0868f39f2487cf89069946/ef6bd5881f903a83-2a/s500x750/be5b4ab35e9d1cfd039d729c3318168314efc950.jpg)
No because Art truly is the competitive type, so if you were to suggest a friendly game after practice he would definitely take it way too seriously...
"What, you're giving up on me now?" he'd taunt when you were getting worn out, bent over with your hands on your knees to catch your breath. You looked up at him to see his knowing smirk, twirling the racket in his hand impatiently.
You didn't expect him to play so hard, since you thought it would just be light-hearted like you had suggested. Though that was the thing about Art; he never went easy on anybody, especially not you—his best friend.
"Nope," you said simply, brushing your fly-away hairs out of your face. "Just wondering why the hell I suggested this."
Art laughed, but didn't give you any sympathies. He waited for you to get back into position before serving to you, and you got back into the game.
It seemed to go well for a while, the bright yellow ball going back and forth between the two of you with a mix of grunts. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, which is why you didn't feel your ankle twist from underneath of you until your body fell onto the court harshly.
A confused whimper sounded from your throat as you rolled over, grasping at your ankle that was now searing with pain. A few tears welled in your eyes as your face contorted with discomfort, the sound of Art's racket smacking down against the court as he quickly jumped over the net and crouched down next to you.
"Oh my god," his eyes scanned your face, his heart sinking at the way you silently sobbed with your head lulled back on the court. He quickly examined your ankle, realizing that it was already swelling and needed to be iced.
"It's okay, it's okay," he assured you sweetly, helping you sit up before wrapping his arm around your waist. "Put your arm around my neck and we're gonna stand up, alright?"
You did as he told you, slinking it around his neck and fisting his shirt as you fought back a cry when he pulled you up, the pressure and bloodflow to your foot making the pain worse.
He tried to help you walk as best as you could, holding you upright while you put all of your weight on your left foot and hobbled with him back to his dorm since it was only a block away from the tennis courts.
When you did finally make it, he helped you over to his bed and helped you sit down gently, before going to his mini fridge and tying up an ice pack for you to put on your ankle.
"I'm so sorry, this is all my fault," he shook his head defeatedly, crouching down in front of you and carefully wrapping the bag around your ankle. The new sensation made your breath hitch, before the pain slowly started to subside.
"No its okay, it was an accident. It's no one's fault," you told him honestly, your mind slightly fogged at the feeling of his hand cupping the back of your calf as he held your foot up. He mindlessly rubbed your soft skin, unaware of the affect it had on you as his mind spiraled.
"No, but I pushed you too hard," he explained, his voice low. "It's my fault."
You shook your head, before taking his face in your hands. You cupped his jaw softly, your forgiving eyes holding his gaze.
"No it's not, stopping beating yourself up about it."
"I know, I just-"
You abruptly cut him off by bringing your lips to his, the apology falling dead in his mouth. You caught him completely off guard, but he still melted into the kiss, allowing his hands to run up the sides of your thighs.
"Now will you stop?" you whispered once you finally pulled away, running your fingers subconsciously through his blonde locks of hair.
He nodded, before pulling you back in for another kiss. He took it upon himself to lay you down against his bed, slotting himself in between your slightly spread legs.
You didn't know why, but this felt so easy. It didn't feel weird or awkward, given that he had been your best friend since high school. If anything, it made perfect sense.
"Is this okay?" he whispered, cradling your head with his free hand while the other ran up your side. You nodded eagerly, giving him the green light to bring his lips back to yours.
Your heartbeat picked up as you felt him harden beneath his shorts against your thigh the more intense the kiss became, his hips slowly beginning to move in seek of friction.
You slipped you tongue into his mouth, earning a moan from him as his hand wandered down your body before grasping your waist and thumbing your hip. Your non-injured leg wrapped around his waist in attempt to bring him closer with a moan, completely enthralled with the feeling of him.
Suddenly, your breath hitched at the feeling of his fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your skirt, dipping into your panties. You let out a shaky moan as Art sunk his middle and ring finger into your soaked cunt, curling them upwards gently as he continued kissing down your jaw and the soft skin of your neck.
It drove him wild how wet you already were for him, the muffled squelching sound of his fingers moving in and out of you making his dick harder.
It didn't take long for him to have your thighs shaking around his hips and your toes curling in your tennis shoes, disgruntled moans mixing with his soft grunts.
You would've never guessed you'd be sprawled out on your best friend's bed coming down from the orgasm he had just given you, but you definitely weren't complaining.
175 notes
·
View notes