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star-writes-sometimes · 4 months

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green butter

word count - 2.2k

c.w. - drug use (marijuana, edibles), reader is said to be shorter than remus, idiots in love, pining, implied insecure reader

a/n - i don’t know if i liked how this turned out so i may rewrite and change the ending idk yet

—

you could hear remus snoring from where you were in the kitchen. the rest of your apartment was silent except for the soft snores. if you ever tried to mention it when he was awake, remus would always deny that he made any kind of noise when he slept, instead choosing to tease you about your habit of sleep talking when you’ve had too much to drink.

you were doing the dishes, cleaning up from making green butter earlier in the day. remus had been out the night before with sirius and james and he was exhausted. he was in your apartment for less than 10 minutes before he passed out on your couch.

you finished cleaning the last mixing bowl and left it on the drying rack. you dried your hands on a tea towel, threw it over your shoulder and made your way to your living room. you collapsed on the comfy armchair closest to the kitchen and simply watched remus sleep.

as if he could feel your gaze on him, he twitched in his sleep and rolled over so you could no longer see his face. you huffed in annoyance and used your sock covered foot to reach out and poke his shoulder.

“wake up please lupin.”

he just groaned and shifted tiredly.

“pleaaaseeee.”

he exhaled sharply and lifted his head up, his annoyed gaze meeting your amused one.

“good morning starshine. the earth says hello!”

“i prefer gene wilder.” remus runs a hand over his scarred face.

“i like ‘em both,” you moved to tuck your feet under you, “makes me feel bad choosing between two things.”

“really?” he smirked, “who do you prefer out of james and sirius?”

“well currently sirius cause he helped me do my makeup a few days ago but it changes depending on which one annoys me less.”

“good choice. james probably would’ve poked your eye out.” he finally sat up, smiling lazily at you, “whats the time?”

“it’s around five so you successfully napped through the afternoon.”

“good that was the aim.” remus stretched, lifting his shirt up slightly, exposing his happy trail.

“do you want dinner, love?”

“no thanks, bunny, but i’ll take some cookies if you’ve got any.”

“i actually need to make some for james and i was gonna make extra,” you paused to yawn, “but i seemed to have misplaced my motivation.”

“aww c’mon bunny,” he got off the couch and knelt in front of your chair, “please make some cookies.”

you tried desperately not to give into his masterful puppy dog eyes, “i thought you were too tired to do anything.”

“i had my nap, now i want time with my super awesome amazing girl who makes the most awesome amazing oatmeal weed cookies.” he pouted up at you, pulling you hand towards him and kissing it, “please baby?”

your resolve couldn’t crumble quicker, “fine, move you big lug i’ll go get started.”

you pushed him aside and walked back into the kitchen while remus trailed behind you closely.

"rem love, can you grab the sugar please?" you asked while pulling the eggs and butter.

"mhmm." he hummed in response.

you grabbed the vanilla extract and a bowl and started to cut up the butter into cubes.

remus came up behind you and placed the sugar on the counter then wrapped his arms around you.

"ooo green butter," he placed his chin onto your shoulder, pressing into you completely.

"yeah i made it earlier."

remus reached his hand around a grabbed a cube and quickly popped it in his mouth, "tastes great, bunny."

you swatted him on the side, "don't eat the butter."

"hey that's abuse." he grabbed another bit of butter and popped it into his mouth.

"remus if you eat the butter you'll get high before the cookies are even ready."

"no i won't," he ate another cube, "i'm not a lightweight like you."

"i'm not saying you're a lightweight, love."

he reached for another piece of butter but you slapped his hand before he could grab it.

"whats with all the abuse today?" he asked.

"go sit down and stop eating butter," you pointed to one of the kitchen stools on the other side of the bench you were working at.

remus watched you intently as you made the cookies. whenever you turned your back momentarily though, he would reach across and sneak another cube of the homemade butter.

eventually, once you got the first batch of cookies in the oven you start to clean up, including putting away all the ingredients.

“rem?”

“hmmm?”

“did you eat more butter?”

“you have no proof of that.”

“i made 500g of butter. i used 250g. there should be 250g left. this isn't 250g.”

“how can you tell that just by looking at it?”

“remus i'm a baker. i do this professionally.”

remus smiled guiltily, “whoops? i’m sorry i’ll help you make more butter tomorrow”

“rem, i couldn't give less of a fuck about the butter, i’m worried about how high you're about to get.”

“i told you, i am not a lightweight i'm not gonna get high off some butter.”

you roll your eyes and finish cleaning up the kitchen, “whatever you say remsy.”

—

forty two minutes later and remus was face down on your kitchen floor.

he groaned loudly as you took the third batch of cookies out of the oven. the room already smelled of a pleasant mix of weed and fresh baked cookies but opening the oven intensified it, hurting remus' already sore brain.

“it's cold, my face is cold, it's on something cold, the room smells, smells like a headache.” he babbled, voice muffled slightly by the ground.

“you are face first on the tiles, that's why your face is cold and the headache you smell is weed."

“ngh, no,” he protested and rolled over onto his back, “weed smells like awesome and this is a headache smell, are you baking a headache?”

you couldn't help the giggle that escaped you as you look down at his confused face, “you've overdone it, remmy.”

“noooo,” he whined and covered his face, “‘m not a lightweight.”

“you're not, darling,” you cooed and sat down on the floor next to him. you gently ran your hand through his hair.

he opened his eyes at the touch but immediately hissed and squinted, “bright light, there's a real bright light, i think i'm dying.”

you looked up at the ceiling and tried not to laugh, “that's the kitchen light, and the dying feeling is, once again, the weed.”

he rapidly sat up after you said that and stared at you intensely, “the weed is doing this to me?”

you couldn't help the giggle that slipped through, “yes, love.”

he looked very serious and glared at the ground before he muttered, “that fuckin' giraffe was right.”

it was your turn to be confused, “giraffe- do you mean harold?”

“that scary fucker was right.”

“you were scared of harold the giraffe?”

“he was tall and i couldn't trust his eyes.” he said with such a strong gaze you almost forgot how ridiculous the conversation was, “is he coming to take me?”

“h-harold? you think harold is coming to take you?”

“yeah, i broke his rules, i did drugs and now i'm paying the price, he's gonna come for me.”

you turned your head to laugh silently, not wanting to mock him (while he was like this, you were definitely mocking him in the morning), “love, harold won't come for you, and even if he did you're not a kid anymore, you're tall too.”

he nodded, like he understood, “yeah i’m tall, i could take that skinny twat.” he nodded, seemingly calm. until he once again jolted and looked at you extremely seriously, “you're short.”

“thank you for noticing rem,” you said, slightly sarcastically.

“harold will come for you because he knows i care about you. he'll take you from me.” he said in a panicky tone.

your touched by his care for you but also recognise the absurdity of what he's saying, “remmy, i promise i’m safe, i'm here with you.”

he gave you a look of determination and nodded. as quick as he could in his intoxication he wrapped his arms around your middle and re-laid down on the floor with you.

“remmy, what are you doing?” you asked, curious, not bothered by his actions.

“protecting you.” he said, voice muffled from where it was buried in your neck.

“hmm thank you,” you hummed out.

he held on tightly and quietly sat there holding you for a few blissful minutes, but the biting cold of the tiles wasn't the most comfortable in the february weather.

“remus, lovie?”

he tapped you as his way of responding, not loosening his grip.

“can we go to bed?”

he squeezed you tighter, “‘m not tired and i need to protect you.”

“i'm tired baby,” you said with a slight breathy laugh.

“i need you to be safe,” he mumbled against your neck.

“we'll stay together the whole time.”

“promise?” he said softly.

“pinky promise.”

at that he slowly rolled off of you but he made sure his hand was touching some part of you at all time - like he was scared you would disappear.

you went to your bedroom with remus following close behind, your fingers tightly threaded together. when you both stopped, remus re-wrapped his arms around you tightly, his large hands going underneath your loose tshirt.

“rem,” you whined softly, “what are you doing now?”

“‘m not close enough to you, need to get closer,” he mumbled and kissed the top of your head.

you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, “i don’t think we can get much closer than this.”

“sure we can bunny,” he said with a hint of mischief in his tone, “we can be much closer,”

“we already see each other everyday, spend most of our free time together, and-” his thumb rubbed against your ribs causing you to giggle slightly, “and that. how much closer can we be?”

you looked up at him just in time to see his smirk. he pressed a kiss to your temple and used his free hand to brush your hair behind your ear, “nowhere near close enough,” he said softly and kissed your cheek.

you held your breath. his touch made you shiver. your skin erupted in goosebumps and you leaned closer to him. he gripped your chin and looked into your eyes.

his eyes were bloodshot.

he was high.

you stepped back slightly at the reminder. you grabbed his hands in your own and led him towards your bed, “c’mon rem, bedtime.”

he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, “what? bunny, i want us to be closer.”

“you’re high, love, you’ll feel different in the morning,” you said softly, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

“no, i won’t, why do you never believe me?” he asked.

“because you only say this stuff when you’re high.”

he slumped over with his forehead resting on your shoulder, “‘m not saying it cause i’m high, the high makes me say the truth.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat and pulled away from him. you sat down on your bed and patted the spot next to you. he smiled dopily and sat next to you. as soon as he sat he feel backwards, laying on your bed and groaning slightly.

you let out a breathy laugh and shook your head, “you can’t even sit up.”

“you keep me stable.”

“i’m also the one enabling your edible addiction.”

“it doesn’t matter that you’re enabling me ‘cause you always take care of me.”

you laid down next to him and face him. he clumsily pulled the blanket over you both and let his hand rest of the side of your face.

“my pretty little bunny, i’ll make you believe me one day,” he promised. he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close.

you looked at his pretty face, his messy sandy blonde hair, his bloodshot eyes. you wished you could believe him. you wrapped your arms around him and snuggled into his chest. you could at least pretend.

he kissed your cheek and held you tightly, “nice and close bunny, i gotta protect you and make you feel loved.”

you melt into him and laugh softly, “protect me?”

“don’t know if that giraffe is comin’ for us.”

“well we can’t have that now can we.”

it was silent for a few moments.

“what do giraffe’s eat?”

“mostly leaves i think, why, love?”

“i don’t like being scared that you’ll be hurt, we should set a trap tomorrow.”

“for harold?”

“yes, you can bake something and i’ll construct a gaint moustrap for the slimy fucker.”

you tried desperately to keep your giggles to yourself, “that’s a job for the morning.”

“i know, you go to sleep, bunnies need lots of rest.”

“goodnight remmy.”

“goodnight bunny.” he kissed your cheek again, “love you.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat once more, “love you too.”

you could pretend it was real.

#remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #dealer!remus x baker!reader #dealer!remus #baker!reader #remus lupin fluff #domestic remus lupin

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tokkias · 6 months

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good intentions ship: natsu dragneel x lucy heartfilia summary: Repressing any lingering feelings he might have for Lucy should have been smooth sailing for Natsu. He’s been doing it successfully for years, that is, until one night where he’s given just a taste of what a relationship with her could be like. Suddenly, seeing other men make their move makes his heart hurt in a way that feels a little too much like loss. ao3

written for @vikingpoteto as part of the @allaboutnalu gift exchange! all of your prompts were sooo bangin but i ended up latching onto jealous natsu and sprinkled in a little bit of fake dating in there too! i hope you enjoy it! (i wasn't able to shoehorn bonvoyage in there but i did listen to it on repeat for like a month because of your though, so i hope that counts for something) thank you to @kaleighkarma for beta reading :]

Natsu never really liked stuffy parties like these. He never liked the dress codes that made him wear shirts with too-tight collars and jackets that restricted his arm movement. This was much more Lucy’s vibe, which was how he ended up here in the first place.

When her turn to choose their job rolled around, she had picked out something low-stakes—something hopefully not even he could screw up. They had been hired as security for some fancy charity gala, should trouble arise. Natsu knew from experience that these types of jobs never came with much action; it was simply a precautionary measure.

That’s why Lucy loved these jobs—they were low-risk but high-reward. Natsu, on the other hand, didn’t care so much about the reward so long as he got to kick some ass, which was never guaranteed on jobs like this one.

They’d been promised free food—something Natsu had taken full advantage of—but the guy manning the buffet had cut him off long ago, and now he was left to his own devices, roaming around the floor in hopes that something interesting might happen.

He wasn’t left waiting much longer before that something came in the form of someone grabbing his wrist, having him immediately turn on his foot with the intention of fighting off whoever was dumb enough to pick a fight with him. He was entirely ready to snatch his arm away and throw a punch, but he stopped in his tracks as he came face-to-face with Lucy. She didn’t give him any time to question as to why she had grabbed him, quickly pulling him to her side and into what seemed like a conversation between her and some party guest that he didn’t recognise.

“This is my boyfriend, Natsu,” she introduced, to his immediate confusion.

The B-word was not one Lucy ever threw around lightly. It was one Natsu heard frequently as a result of misunderstandings—some people would simply see him and Lucy together and come to their own conclusions. Though it wasn’t ever something he cared about, Lucy had always adamantly corrected them over it.

Natsu never really got why.

He didn’t care what other people thought of their relationship, much less strangers they might never meet again. Though many thought him oblivious, he was well aware of the whispers that followed them around the guild, speculating on the nature of their relationship. To be honest, he didn’t really care what they thought about it either. People could speculate all they wanted, but at the end of the day, his relationship with Lucy—whether they were friends or something more—was between them and no one else.

He could smell the alcohol on his breath, and he could see the way his gaze trailed down the low-cut dress that exposed her ample cleavage. His skeevy behaviour and the way that Lucy clung to his side hinted towards something a little different than a sudden change of heart on her behalf.

Tossing an arm around her shoulder, Natsu pulled her into his side, a gesture she eagerly accepted by slipping her arm around him and resting her head gently on his chest.

“Hey,” Natsu greeted, an air of politeness only thinly veiling the venom that seeped into his voice.

If Lucy’s plan was to have him intimidate this guy, it was clearly working. His gaze had moved away from Lucy, now frantically looking anywhere but her. Natsu wasn’t the biggest guy, but that didn’t matter when he knew how to carry himself in a way that tended to intimidate people who weren’t down for a fight.

He puffed his chest and glared down at him as if to say, she’s mine, and I don’t like to share.

Based on the look of fear in his eyes, her plan was working.

“I, uh-” the man stuttered, “It’s uh, good to meet you.”

He was almost tempted to growl at the poor sod, but he felt bad enough as is.

“I gotta go,” he mumbled, all interest in Lucy suddenly fizzling away. “I’ll maybe see you later…”

He didn’t wait for a reply before he was scurrying off with his tail between his legs.

“Thanks,” she murmured. “Sorry for springing that on you, he was just creeping me out, and I thought maybe if he knew I was with you, he’d leave me alone.”

“It’s no problem,” he assured with a shrug, and really, it wasn’t.

Natsu had always promised to protect her; it didn’t matter if that was from the imminent threat of death or just some creepy guy at a party. Even as the creep scurred well away from them, Lucy didn’t detach herself from his side, instead dropping her arm from around him while still sticking close to him.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “Can you stay?”

She didn’t have to elaborate on why—he already knew—not that he needed a reason anyway. He’d never complain about sticking with Lucy.

“Yeah, ‘course,” he said. “You don’t hafta ask.”

“Thank you.”

She flashed him a sweet smile that made his heart throb in his chest, and that was thanks enough for him.

Though he had gone into this job hoping—practically praying—for something interesting to happen, itching for a fight, Natsu couldn’t find it in himself to be mad when the rest of the night ran smoothly.

Lucy spent the whole night by his side, practically attached to his arm. No man tried to bother her the rest of the night as she stayed by his side, holding onto his arm in a way that didn’t seem entirely platonic to any onlookers. When they found themselves in a lull, she would gently rest her head against his shoulder in soft rest.

He liked that soft, casual intimacy with her. He wished they got to do it more.

For once, he felt himself getting his ego boosted by something that wasn’t winning a fight. One might say it was from having a pretty girl on his arm, but he would say it was from having Lucy on his arm.

There was something nice about protecting Lucy, about knowing that everyone in this venue looked at her and knew who she belonged to. Not because he owned her, but because she chose him. She was the one who wanted to cling to his arm, to hold his hand, to stay by his side.

She was his, and he was hers.

Having Lucy at his side made even the most terribly boring conversations they found themselves dragged into bearable.

Lucy was always such a natural in environments like these. She was charming and charismatic, she knew all the right things to say to the types of people who attended charity galas. He felt almost invisible to anyone but her as she charmed them, which he found himself more than okay with. It gave him adequate time to zone out with his gaze in her direction.

At some point, she brought her hand up to rest on his chest as she let out a laugh, and he thought for a second that his heart might stop altogether.

He couldn’t quite remember when Lucy’s touch began to make him feel this way, but it was beginning to feel like a running theme these days. Just the brush of her skin against his own was enough to set the butterflies in his stomach on fire.

Maybe it had always been like that, and he just hadn’t noticed until now.

It was a good tingle—one that made him feel as though he could take on the world.

He found that was a common theme when it came to Lucy.

In an attempt to seek out more of that feeling, his hand slipped around her back, resting on her waist and pulling her even closer into his side. She did not protest; in fact, she leaned into it, and if it meant she would stay like that forever, Natsu wished the night would never end.

Maybe any other night he might have found himself whinging and complaining about the lack of action. He’d probably try to pick a fight with Gray or Erza afterward in an attempt to burn off some of that excess energy he’d come into the job with, but tonight he didn’t really feel like it—not when that meant having Lucy leave his arm.

The night had to end inevitably, and it finally did when they stepped out into the moonlight. Lucy’s arm left his now that they were safely solitary, and he had to stop himself from letting out a soft whine or reaching out for her again.

Though he had begun their job paying close attention to the time, he had stopped paying it any mind about halfway through the night. Judging by the way the moon was hung high up in the sky and the streets had been long dead to the night, it had to have been past midnight by now. They had stayed well past when everyone else had left, waiting out any stragglers who might be cause for trouble if they left too early.

When the last guest had left, their employer had graciously sent them on their way, leaving them free to enter the night and leave for home.

She took in a deep breath of air, her arms stretched out as she dropped her ladylike façade and returned back to the carefree Lucy he always knew, happy to bask out beneath the stars in which she was born from.

It wasn’t until she had sufficiently filled her lungs with the soft spring air that she finally turned back around to meet his gaze. Her brows furrowed together slightly, as though there were something wrong with his appearance. He didn’t think there was. He feared maybe he was staring too intently, and she had finally noticed.

He’d been doing that a lot lately.

“Are you okay? You’re looking a little bit red,” she observed.

She stepped towards him, and her hand came up to rest on his cheek, cradling his jaw. The tingly feeling was coming back in full force, which he was certain did not help with the redness she was noting.

He probably wouldn’t have realised he was blushing so hard had she not pointed it out to him.

“Uh, yeah, just, uh, hot?” He tried to brush off.

It wasn’t his finest excuse, but he simply pulled from the list of ones Cana used when her drunken flush got a little too obvious to those she was trying to convince she was sober.

Lucy, seemingly unconvinced, raised her eyebrows in mild surprise.

“You get hot?”

An understandable question given his general heatproof body and the way he made fun of her any time the temperature in Magnolia rose more than two degrees.

“It was stuffy in there,” he corrected.

Thankfully, Lucy didn’t seem to question his little slip-up, and her attention turned back to the stars.

“Then the fresh air will do you some good,” she mused.

He had a feeling that fresh air would not help his predicament so long as she lingered near. He just hoped that she wouldn’t notice, lest he have to try to find the words to verbalise his current predicament.

A request specifically for their team had brought them a fair ways out of Magnolia for the weekend. Though the job had been quick, finished before evening fell, the distance from their hometown meant they would find themselves staying the night in

The small size of the tavern they had found themselves in didn’t lend itself well to brawling (not that that had ever stopped them before), but seeing as Natsu had exhausted his energy on the job today, he was content to kick ass in pool instead.

He leaned over the table, his gaze intensely focused on the cue ball at the end of his stick. With a swift pull-back, Natsu thrust his stick against the cueball and sent it flying across the table, where it met another with a loud clack before it rolled into one of the corner pockets.

“Yes!” Natsu cheered, pumping his fist in the air to celebrate his victory.

Gray was decidedly less impressed.

“That was my ball, dipshit,” he jeered. “I’m solid, you’re stripes.”

“Who cares? I got the ball in the pocket, didn’t I?” Natsu shrugged.

“I’m starting to think you don’t know how to play pool.”

“The point of the game is to get the white ball into the hole—all the other balls are just obstacles,” Erza declared.

“What? That’s not how you play the game at all.”

Whatever fight was about to break out between them was cut short on Natsu’s end as his attention was drawn away by the sight of Lucy sitting at the bar. She had opted not to join them because she claimed they were “too competitive” and “didn’t know the rules.”.

When they had left to play, Lucy had been on her own, but now it seemed as though someone else had made themselves comfortable on the seat that he had occupied not so long ago. There was a drink in her hand that she definitely hadn’t had before, most likely ordered and paid for by the man sitting next to her.

Her fingers played with the straw in her drink as she listened idly to whatever it was that he was saying to her. She smiled politely but otherwise didn’t seem terribly interested in what he had to say.

He couldn’t make their conversation out over the rest of the idle noise in the bar, but if he wanted to, he could tune his ears in. Not that he had to; he already had a pretty keen idea of what was going on based on the way his hand came to rest on her thigh.

He was getting much too close for Natsu’s liking.

Placing his stick back on the table, he left Gray and Erza to finish the game without him and made his way over to Lucy, prowling like a predator stalking his prey.

He tossed his arm around Lucy’s shoulder as casually as he always had and plastered a grin across his face as genuinely as he could, given the weird feeling that was bubbling up in his stomach.

“Hey Lucy!” He greeted with all the familiarity in the world.

“Natsu?”

She looked up at him with surprise, evidently taken off guard by his sudden action. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by the man sitting beside her.

“Who are you?”

He was hoping that he’d quickly get the hint and quietly stalk away, leaving Natsu to not have to fend for her attention. That was fine. He knew exactly what to say that would get him to leave.

“I’m her boyfriend,” he declared, and Lucy seemed to cringe at his words.

“You didn’t mention you had a boyfriend,” the other man said, as though Natsu’s introduction threw a wrench in his plan.

Based on the way Lucy stuttered to save face, it had seemingly thrown one in hers too.

“I- I don’t- he’s not-!”

Lucy scrambled for the words to try and convince the stranger otherwise, but by then it was too late.

The way he retreated after finding out about her so-called “boyfriend” confirmed what Natsu already knew. He was very clearly chatting her up with some sort of romantic or sexual intent.

A look of glowing pride overtook Natsu as he watched the man leave, a sentiment that Lucy did not share.

The night out didn’t last much longer after that, with Lucy declaring that she wanted to go back to their motel and the rest of the group following suit.

Lucy trailed a few feet behind them, an air of bad energy radiating off of her, which Natsu quickly picked up on. He hung back, waiting for Lucy to catch up as Gray and Erza moved on. Even as her steps moved in tandem with his, she didn’t look at him; her gaze trained at the path ahead of them, making it obvious she was deliberately avoiding looking at him.

“What? Why are you mad?”

“Because you interrupted my conversation and you scared that nice man off,” she huffed.

The two had stopped walking, the others leaving them behind as they stood on the side of the street, lit by nothing more than moonlight and flickering lamp posts. In that moment, all Natsu could do was blankly stare at her in surprise.

“I can stand up for myself, you know,” Lucy said, arms crossed over her chest in disdain. “I only need your help with drunk or creepy guys.”

“He was creepy,” Natsu defended.

Any guy who got that close to her who wasn’t him was a creep.

“If I want your help, I’ll get it on my own terms,” she huffed. “You can’t just make decisions for me based on what you think is best. That’s not fair.”

It didn’t really matter. They were a few hours out of Magnolia; she’d probably never see the poor sod again; there was no potential there for a relationship anyway. That’s what she was looking for—a serious relationship, someone to settle down with—or at least, that’s what she told him. That guy didn’t seem like the committed relationship type, so he was justified in scaring him off, right?

“His hand was on your thigh,” he said, as though that absolved him of any wrongdoing in that moment.

"Well, maybe I like it when some men give me attention,” she said. “Maybe I don’t like it when my friend makes me look like a cheater.”

He did feel a little guilty in that regard. He didn’t want to make others think poorly of Lucy, but sometimes you have to make tough decisions to protect those you love, right?

He didn’t get it. She didn’t seem interested, but she wasn’t turning him down either. She claimed she liked the attention, but he could give her plenty of attention if that’s what she wanted.

Why did she want his help then but not now?

Lucy had already walked off, leaving him behind as she caught up with the others while he was left behind to try and put the pieces back together.

Drinks flowed freely, and music pumped through the air as a rowdy crowd gathered in the guild to celebrate… something. A birthday? A guild milestone? Natsu wasn’t quite sure, nor did he care much—a sentiment that was surely shared by almost everyone else taking the night to party.

Guild parties like this weren’t often open to non-members, but Cana had plenty of drinking buddies from out town who would often swing by for a night of . Though none of them were much for letting in outsiders, Cana’s guests tended to behave themselves—or perhaps more accurately, behaved better than the guild regulars. They were there to drink and party; any property damage was usually done by those who already had a reputation for such.

It didn’t take long for a fight to break out in one part of the guild. Gajeel’s fist hit Natsu’s cheek, sending him flying to the ground, breaking a chair or two in the process. With a grin overtaking his expression, Natsu scrambled to his feet and pulled back his fist, ready to retaliate, but the fight was promptly cut short by an unimpressed Erza, who held Natsu back by the collar of his shirt. He was practically tossed to the side with an angry glare as a warning, leaving him to scurry off with a dejected huff.

If he couldn’t get his energy out, he would at least take this chance for a drink and some good company, but there was one person in particular he wanted to be with tonight.

Lucy. He wanted Lucy.

A quick scan of the bar made it clear she was not there, so Natsu clambered up onto an empty table to give him a better vantage point as he scanned the dancefloor. It didn’t take long for him to spot her blonde hair, given away by the familiar blue bow that tied her hair to the side. He found her dancing with one of Cana’s so-called drinking buddies.

Their bodies were close—much too close for Natsu’s liking. While maybe he could have put their close proximity down to the crowd of people that cluttered the dance floor, what he couldn’t seem to justify was the way his hands made their way onto her hips, trailing up to her waist, where they came to rest. Lucy did not protest—in fact, her arms came to rest over his shoulders, pulling him closer, their chests resting against one another.

If he had a drink in his hand, he was certain the glass would have shattered right then and there.

Instinctually, he wanted to go over there to make his presence known, to watch that boy and every other man in the room scatter, to make them avoid so much as looking at Lucy wrong for the rest of the night. It would be so easy to start another fight, to “accidentally” let him get caught up in it, to singe off every hair on his head and leave him trailing off with his tail between his legs. Just as he was about to put his plan into action, he hesitated for a moment as Lucy’s words rang in the back of his head.

“You can’t just make decisions for me based on what you think is best. That’s not fair.”

He remembered how angry she had been the last time he had chosen to interfere. Though it had dissipated quickly, the bitterness lasting no longer than the night they spent out of town, he still didn’t enjoy having that sentiment directed towards him. That night, she had hardly been interested when he stepped in, but tonight she seemed to be actively enjoying herself.

It made him feel nauseous, but he couldn’t place his finger on why.

He felt some sort of urge or desire to be there with her, to be him. He didn’t know why. He hated dancing; he only came to these parties for fights, booze, and food, but somehow he thought maybe dancing would suck less if he was doing it with Lucy.

It didn’t matter if it did or didn’t. He wouldn’t be finding out tonight, considering she had found herself rather preoccupied at the moment. She could have her fun, and he wouldn’t stop her, but he knew that if he stayed any longer, he would either get sick or get violent; neither option appealing at the moment.

He would have preferred to leave without much confrontation, but he was unable to slip past Gray on his way out.

“Hey, where are you going?” He called out.

“Home,” Natsu simply replied.

“What? You can’t leave without Lucy.”

Can’t was a strong word. He usually wouldn’t. Most other nights, he’d walk her home to her apartment (or, on nights where she’d had a bit much to drink, carry her to her apartment). There was no spoken obligation; it was more just a ritual they did, which had apparently been picked up by those around them. Gray clearly knew of their unspoken agreement, but he didn’t stop him on his way out.

Lucy was mad. This was not information he had obtained firsthand, but rather had been relayed to him by many, many sources. Pretty much everyone at the guild knew what happened that night and were more than happy to let him know that he was being a dick. He didn’t care much about their opinions. This was not the first time his guildmates had held that thought of him, and it would not be the last either.

He couldn’t intervene; he couldn’t fight the guy, but he couldn’t leave quietly without being labelled the bad guy. Was he supposed to just sit there and take it? To watch it and let his feelings get hurt?

The confrontation was inevitable. He knew he couldn’t avoid Lucy forever, but that sure wasn’t going to stop him from trying. He probably could have drawn the chase out longer had his wallet not begun to run dry of food money. Natsu was perfectly content to stay in his little space in the woods, to keep to himself, to train, to eat, but he still had to come to the guild to take a job, and it was at that very job board that he found himself cornered.

“Are you done giving me the silent treatment?” Came her voice from behind him.

Natsu didn’t turn around to face her as he replied, his gaze still fixated on the request he had in his hand.

“I’m not giving you the silent treatment.”

It wasn’t technically a lie—he couldn’t be giving her the silent treatment if he was just avoiding her altogether.

“Okay, then what do you have to say for yourself?”

For the first time since her arrival, Natsu looked up from his job request and at her. She was looking at him with a stern expression, her arms crossed over her chest.

He was still so mad. He wasn’t really sure who or what he was mad at. He certainly wasn’t mad at her. The guy at the party maybe, but not Lucy—never Lucy.

He was mad at the situation. He was mad that other guys had the audacity to look, to touch, to flirt.

There was still something simmering below the surface—some feeling of resentment that still lingered. He was never good at regulating his emotions, much less his anger. Part of him wanted to lash out at someone, something—anything really—but he feared what would happen if he gave in to those thoughts.

Lucy was already upset with him enough; if he let his resentful thoughts slip, he might have a bigger issue on his hands, so instead he met her with a single-word answer.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Seriously?” She exclaimed. “You can’t just leave me alone at a party, ignore me for a week, and then say nothing.”

“I don’t have anything to say,” he shrugged.

“Not even a sorry?”

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

He was sorry. Sort of. He didn’t like making Lucy upset; he certainly didn’t like making her upset with him, but there was a certain amount of self-preservation that led to his decision.

His feelings for Lucy were no longer platonic—they probably hadn’t been for a while now.

He wanted a relationship with her. It was something he’d wanted subconsciously for maybe years now, but he hadn’t really actively considered it until he was given the chance to play pretend for one night when he realised how easy loving Lucy came to him.

Now that the idea had been planted in his mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. His brain was plagued with thoughts of cheesy shit, like taking her on dates and holding her hand—all the dumb stuff he swore up and down that he would never care about. It made his chest tighten with a feeling that he could only describe as yearning.

He wanted that with her, wanted to shower her in the affections and attentions that she desired, to make her laugh and smile, and to know that he was the reason for her joy.

There weren’t many things that Natsu was afraid of, but he was afraid of change. Because what if change meant they could never go back to the way things were? He liked what they had—their friendship, their easy companionship. If any of that were to be put at risk by taking a step in a new direction, then he would gladly let things stay just the way they were.

And yet, watching other guys have the courage to do what he was too afraid to hurt in a way that felt a little too much like loss.

Lucy let out a dissatisfied huff at his apology.

“What is up with you? You’ve been avoiding me all week and now you won’t even look me in the eye to apologise.”

Though he would have loved to steer clear of this topic entirely, Lucy was looking up at him with an expectant gaze, waiting to hear some sort of justification or explanation. Natsu, on the other hand, was unfortunately acutely aware of everyone else in the guild hall. This wasn’t where he wanted to have this conversation, if they had to have it at all.

If he got his feelings rejected by Lucy just like he foresaw, he didn’t want it to be in front of all the people he knew would use that as ammunition against him. Gray would never let him live it down.

“Can we talk about this later?”

“What? Why?”

It clearly had not occurred to her that there were people watching until now, when she followed his gaze that flicked behind her. The moment Lucy looked behind her, everyone who had been watching seemed to scatter, trying their best to look busy as though they had never been watching in the first place.

“Oh,” she let out, her conviction dropping just a little.

At the very least, it seemed as though she didn’t want to cause a scene in the middle of the guild hall.

“Okay,” she conceded. “We can talk at my apartment if you want.”

“No,” Natsu shook his head.

Lucy’s apartment had always been such a place of comfort for him, something of a second home. While maybe comfort would be something he would need after the fact, he knew their conversation would forever linger in the air, etched into the wallpaper, coming back to haunt him every time he stepped foot into that room.

He needed them to be on some even playing field, a space that he knew wouldn’t be tainted by whatever may transpire today. Lucky for him, he felt as though he knew the exact right place.

“Can you meet me by the river?” He softly suggested.

“The one by your house?” She asked, an air of reluctance lingering over her.

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence fell upon them as she met him with a look of contemplation. The silence didn’t last for much longer before Lucy finally yielded.

“Okay,” she agreed and Natsu was happy to take at least one small victory before the trajectory of their relationship changed entirely.

The gentle rush of the river soothed Natsu as he sat on the bank, his arms perched on his knees as he looked out at the water. He’d been sitting there for a while before the time they had agreed to meet, taking a few moments to gather his thoughts.

He’d been trying his best to spend the last week thinking of practically anything other than Lucy, pushing away any and all thoughts about her, the bar, the party, the other men who looked at her with desire in their eyes. He could have gone on much longer repressing those thoughts, pushing them deep down into the deepest depths of his mind, somewhere they wouldn’t be found, even by him. He was rather good at avoiding things like that, but he knew all that would serve to do was delay the inevitable revelation.

The fact that he had put off truly considering his feelings for Lucy this long was almost a miracle but now that they had risen to the surface he couldn’t ignore them any longer. Especially not when they made it hard to look at his best friend the same way.

He tried to relax himself, to not tense up in his shoulders when he heard her approaching from behind. He could tell it was her by the pace of her footsteps, differentiating herself from the animals that scurried past and emphasised by the comforting waft of her scent lingering in the air.

He didn’t look up to meet her eyes when he asked, “Are you still mad at me?”

“Yes,” she bluntly replied.

Though Lucy tended to be easy to forgive, she was also a little stubborn from time to time. He liked that about her, even if right now it was coming back to bite him in the ass.

“But I’m not as mad,” she reassured as she sat down next to him.

Her words were reaffirmed when he glanced over at her and found that, despite her earlier anger and frustration, she still smiled at him. The sight of her lips quirking up in the corners made his heart tighten in his chest, as it had been known to do around Lucy as of late.

She was so cute that it almost hurt to look for too long, so he had to pull his gaze away.

“You wanted to talk?”

Lucy wasn’t stupid—quite the opposite, actually. She was rather perceptive when it came to people’s emotions, and she had obviously picked up that whatever was bothering him went deeper than merely walking out on her that night. Whether she had figured out why exactly it bothered him so much, he wasn’t entirely sure yet.

Her words were met with silence once more as he looked out to the river, not exactly sure where to start.

“Come on, Natsu, what’s bothering you?”

She reached out to his hand, taking it in her own in a gentle attempt to soothe him. Their fingers intertwined, and he got to feel the comforting weight of her hand and the soft skin of her palm against his own. Somehow, even in the middle of such turmoil between them, she found it in herself to feel compassion and concern for him.

"Please, Natsu, I don’t like it when we fight.”

He didn’t like it when they fought either, although they never usually reached this point. They tended to argue about petty, trivial things, of which they would resolve without much hassle. Even after the night at the bar, when she had been so furious at him, things had blown over quickly. Their fights were never over dumb things like romance or feelings. He was hardly able to navigate difficult feelings like this on his own; the fact that they concerned Lucy only served to make it that much harder.

He was treading a fine line between trying to express what he was feeling and not irrevocably ruining his relationship with her forever.

He opened his mouth to speak, but whatever words he could manage to conjure up got caught in his throat. He had to pull his gaze away from Lucy if he wanted even a chance to pull himself together.

“It’s just that… I don’t like it when other guys flirt with you,” he managed to get out.

If there had been some expectation she had of what he was going to say to her, it was clear from the expression on her face that it was not that.

"I don’t think I understand,” she said. “You don’t like it when guys flirt with me?” She repeated, looking at him for assurance.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

It was a simple question that should have had a simple answer, but like all of this stupid feeling stuff, what was going on inside of him was a lot more complicated than that.

“Because I want to do that with you,” he said in all but a murmur.

Lucy looked at him with blank expression as she tried to process what he had just told her, her head cocked slightly to the side.

“You want to flirt with me?”

“No, well, yeah, but-” He struggled to find the right words to convey how he felt.

Did he want to flirt with her? People seemed to perceive their banter as flirting all the time, but it wasn’t anything like the flirty looks and playful touches that other men gave her. That wasn’t what he wanted; he liked what they had. Maybe what he wanted was just more of what they already had, but he struggled to put that into words.

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” she softly said, running her thumb along the back of his hand.

She seemed to be taking this whole confessing-his-love-for-her thing in stride, not pulling away even as he haphazardly fumbled together his thoughts.

She regarded him with a kind smile, an entire juxtaposition to the way she had been looking at him earlier in the day. Of course she did. She was Lucy, kind, compassionate, ever-forgiving, even when he was being a bit of a sook. For a long time, he had considered these to be reasons why no man would ever be good enough for her. Now he wondered if he was good enough for her either.

“Natsu?” She said, her soft voice pulling him away from his own thoughts. “Can I try something?”

He wordlessly nodded at her, and before he could even begin to guess what she was about to do, she leaned in and closed the distance between them, her lips pressing against his own. It was only for a brief moment, little more than a few seconds—but he didn’t need any more than that to know that the way she felt against him made it feel like lava flowed through his veins.

It reminded him of the way he felt when her hand came to softly rest on his chest that night on the job.

That was what he wanted.

More of that.

Only he couldn’t seem to articulate that thought and instead sat there gaping at her, looking like a goddamned fool.

“I’m sorry, I thought that’s what you wanted,” she bashfully said, averting her eyes, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

His heart was thrumming so loudly that he could hear it in his ears; her words almost drowned out by the thump, thump, thumping that was ringing around him. It took all of his strength and focus to make out what she was saying, and even more so to conjure up a response.

“It is.”

Well, he hadn’t exactly known that’s what he wanted—not until she had done it, but now that she had, he wanted it again, and again, and again. He wanted to have her, to hold her, to keep her on his arm, safe and away from harm or perverted eyes. He wanted to live out the fantasy that had begun the night she had called him her "boyfriend.”.

Finally, he was beginning to feel that fantasy in real time as her hands came to rest on his cheeks and their lips melded against each other once more.

#nalu #fairy tail #natsu x lucy #fan fiction #mya writes things #nalu gift exchange 2023

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dogwithrabies · 1 year

Text

【★】 cws: none! sub!scara, gn reader but described as afab. slight dacryphilia igl

【☆】 the spacing looks kinda wonky augh, anyway! it's my first time actually writing something serious, so enjoy!

word count: 4.5k

Why does it have to be me?

You mentally curse Aether while taking another step forward. After all the adventures you two shared, he bailed out when Nahida asked him to accompany The Wanderer on his little solo mission. Not only that, but he also suggested your name, something along the lines of “(name) seems to be more fitting for this job than me”. They didn't even give you a notice. The news of your impromptu trip came at the last second, leaving you with only a few hours to prepare, both mentally and physically.

You’re momentarily dragged out of your thoughts as you feel your foot slip, quickly putting your hands forward and catching yourself. It takes you a second to compose yourself and keep on hiking, while your companion just looks at you with an expression of irritation and floats by you.

He insisted on taking a shortcut, cutting right through deep vegetation and saving up time. That is if you can fly. Now, he stands on top of the hill, looking down on you as you stagger to keep up.

Slowly sinking back into your thoughts, you wonder… maybe Aether saw right through your annoyed façade, scowling every time you were faced with Kunikuzushi. Sure, he was rude and sometimes unbearable- but he had such a pretty face. And pretty eyes. And soft lips.

His hair also looked so soft, you wonder how it would feel to run your hand through it, slowly combing it. Maybe even pulling and tugging on it- alas, thinking of him, your thoughts always sway in a different direction.

The wanderer folds his arms over his chest. “This place seems adequate for resting. If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve already arrived at the destination. Fragile humans, always needing to rest after even a small effort.” Another not-so-subtle quip aimed at you. You stopped listening as soon as he started listing the other ways you “slowed him down”, focusing on setting up camp instead. You wished he could just shut up. Forever. But his voice sounds so heavenly, if only he wasn’t such a pain in the ass.

Unbeknownst to you, his eyes fall on your back, following your movements.

He can’t help it, really.

He’s always found himself strangely attracted to you. His gaze follows your hands as they pull and tug while setting up the tent, silently wishing they could do the same to him. He still doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but he was relieved when he found out Nahida choose you to accompany him. Even during previous interactions he has always secretly hoped to have your attention on him, throwing insults at you, enjoying every single glare you throw at him.

The thought of liking someone, especially if that someone is you , irks him. He has never needed anyone. Getting close to people (to humans, no less), is just asking to get betrayed again. He has seen it over and over again, relationships falling apart over the stupidest reasons, cheating and lies and whatnot. The aftermath is even more pathetic, fake sympathy when both parties are on “good terms” or the sadness of a heartbreak.

Despite finding himself starting over, leaving his life as The Balladeer behind, old habits die hard.

So he finds himself in an internal conflict between wanting you and hating you. The latter more often.

The sound of the tent opening grabs his attention- “are you coming inside or not?” you say, your head poking outside while holding the zipper down. Sighing, he takes off his hat and sits down next to you, crossed legs and staring off in the distance. He hates how soft your voice sounds when you’re not busy arguing with him. Soft breaths and defeated sighs as you pull the blanket over you both, covering his legs.

Once again, he finds his gaze falling on you, your back is facing him and your chest is heaving up and down as you breathe. He has half a mind to reach out and touch your hair, but he holds back, you’re still awake. Maybe he could wait until you fall asleep to silently satiate his wish, but the fear of getting caught is stronger. So he sinks under the blankets and settles for simply watching you sleep.

The Wanderer stirs awake, breathing softly as his eyes try to focus.

No light filters through the tent, assuming it’s still nighttime, he lays his head back on the pillow, but when trying to roll on his back, he feels his arm catch on something. That’s when he takes notice of the warm sensation of your body against his. And his arm on your waist, holding you tightly. A bit too tightly, you slightly stir in your sleep and can feel you press against him while your back arches.

He feels himself stiffening, a warm sensation down there, taking notice of how his shorts feel too tight and the tent too small. He removes his arm from your hips and tries to pull the other one from under your back, but to his utter dismay you turn, now facing him, luckily still sleeping.

Not so luckily, your arm is draped on his chest and your leg rests in between his, dangerously close to his semi-hard cock.

Sighing in defeat, his free arm on his forehead covering his eyes, he tries to fall asleep once again.

He doesn’t really need to sleep, physically speaking he does not get tired. During his fatui days, he was used to spending weeks awake on missions. It’s more for his sanity, the calm of the night allows him to organize his thoughts while resting his body. And Nahida would nag him to no end if she found out he was, once again, not sleeping in order to finish his work for her faster.

Trying not to focus on how tightly you’re holding him (or how close your leg is to where he wants you the most) holding him hostage against you, he tries distracting himself, hoping his erection dies down with his will to fight your grip.

Being the first one to wake up, quickly taking conscience of your current position, you panic slightly. You’ve never been this close to him, not that he would let you, he had such an aversion for touch, always keeping his distance.

But right now, his visage is relaxed, his usual scowl nowhere in sight, he looks beautiful.

Slowly moving your arm you reach out for his hair, slowly tucking some loose strands behind his ear, just to get a better look at his face. His eyes are closed, with that red eyeliner of his perfectly contouring his eye shape. Your eyes fall lower, his lips, rosy pink and so inviting. Sitting up and removing yourself completely from him, pulling the blanket off yourself, you turn once again.

But you’re not granted the chance to admire him more, his eyes slowly flutter awake, locking on you.

“Morning,” you murmur, voice still a bit raspy.

He doesn’t spare you a single glance, as he sits up, putting his outer layers and hat on and exiting the tent.

Oh wow, his bad attitude starts in the morning? Deciding to pay him no mind, you quickly collect your belongings and put the tent away.

“Do I not deserve a “good morning?” he hears you say sarcastically.

But he’s not listening. His mind is busy replaying the events from last night, and now, your gentle hand as you moved his hair out of his face. He’s thankful he can stand impossibly still, but he wishes he could have seen your face in that moment. What was your expression? Were you looking at him with adoration or simple curiosity toward his mechanical body? So many questions in his mind, he doesn’t even hear your steps as you stand next to him.

“Are you ignoring me?” - he huffs, interrupting you “Do you ever stop talking? It’s early morning and I don’t feel like entertaining your useless chatter.”

Just what’s the deal with him now? He starts walking away from you quickly. It takes a minute to catch up, knowing he’s going to be extra bothersome today.

This time, you are walking on a clear path, one that is actually shown on the map (unlike his shortcut), but that does not mean it’s any safer. On the contrary, the road is full of fungi, which you had to take care of- courtesy of Kunikuzushi, who apparently prefers watching you struggle instead of helping.

Today was going to be a long day.

Hearing the cool drizzling of a nearby river, you both decide to stop for a quick break.

Dropping your bag under a tree you make your way to the riverside, cooling your hands in the water, then splashing some on your face, a relieving break from the heat.

As the splashing stops, you can see the reflection of Kunikuzushi staring back at you.

Quietly whispering “hi” to try and break the tension gets you no answer from him. So you sit in silence for a few minutes before you rise on your feet, facing him, your faces a bit too close for comfort. He was standing awfully close to you, almost banging your head on the edge of his hat, he still doesn’t say a word.

“what’s deal with you today?” your tone sounding a bit irritated. You could put up with the banter, that was the norm between you two, silence just sounds wrong.

He turns on his feet, trying to put distance between you, but you quickly grab his hand stopping him from leaving. Now he’s angry, “let me go.” he spat, trying to remove himself from your grip.

“Why are you ignoring me?”

“I said let me go!” He uses his other hand to try and free himself, sometimes you forget he’s not human, but his strong grip instantly reminds you. You’re sure that��s gonna leave a mark.

He yanks your arm with an unexpected amount of strength and you lose your balance, toppling forward into his chest, taking the both of you for a fall on the ground.

Flinching as you land on top of him, you look up at him and now he looks pissed. His hands hitch towards you, but you’re faster, pinning them at his sides.

“Get. Off. Me.” he growls.

“Just answer me first,” huffing and still holding his arms down. You’re sitting in between his legs, looking at him from above, his hair disheveled and his cheeks such a cute shade of red. He could free himself from your grip at any moment, but for some reason, he’s choosing to put up a false scenario of struggling to move your arms. He stills when he notices how intensely your eyes are boring through him, he feels himself shrinking under you.

“where did all the bark in you go? giving up already?” you taunt. you just had to ruin the moment. Slowly closing the gap between your bodies, you stare at him more intently, and he swears he saw your eyes flickering between his and his lips. You remove one hand from his arm and repeat the same motion as this morning, moving his hair out of his eyes and sliding them behind his ears.

He’s so beautiful even when he’s angry, you conclude.

But by his reaction, you guess you said that out loud too. He uses his, now free, arm to grab you by the collar of your shirt and drag you closer to his face, your chests now pressed together. He slams your faces together in an attempt to kiss you, it’s messy and it’s inexperienced, teeth clanking together and all. It’s cute.

Pulling away almost instantly you glare at him, “Is this why you’ve been so pissy all morning? You just wanted a kiss?” shifting from the current position to straddling his hips.

“No, that’s not it.” you say as you feel something poking your thigh, his face a darker shade of red, “you want more.”

He moves his hips, trying to get away from the pressure but accidentally ends up brushing his hard-on further on your thigh. “That’s not true.” he winces at his own tone, it sounded winded and not as angry as he wanted.

“Liar.” your hand slides down the side of his face, now gripping his chin forcing him to keep eye contact. “At least your body is honest.” you taunt with newfound confidence. “But if that’s what you reaaally want-” “No!” he interrupts you, stopping your movements before you could even begin lifting yourself off him. “No? so you do want me.”

He looks away again, too ashamed to keep eye contact with you. “Who would’ve known, this bratty personality of yours was just you being a whore all this time.” “N-no, I’m not…!” whatever fight he had left in him disappeared as you slowly grind your hips on his erection.

You lean forward “Just say it. Say it and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Need I remind you… y-you’re the one grinding on me like a whore?” he tries to regain some decency.

“How cute. ” you cut in before he can get another word in and reconnect your lips together, gentler this time. He instantly melts into it, his hand sneaking in your hair to push your faces together even further. He whimpers in the kiss when he feels you pressing harder on his dick. Oh, he was so cute to play with, you couldn’t wait to ruin him.

Moving your hand from his face, you drag your nails on his chest, making him gasp, taking advantage of that to shove your tongue in his mouth. He licks the inside of your mouth with a tinge of desperation, his fingers pushing your head harder. Biting his lips, you break away from the kiss, panting, and a trail of saliva connecting your mouths.

“Swallow.” you say, holding his mouth open as a glob of saliva rolls off your tongue and into his.

He winces slightly but does as you say. “Good boy,” and he prays you don’t feel him twitching in his pants at the nickname. But you do, and meet his gaze with a knowing smirk.

He feels your weight pulling off from him, a look of panic in his eyes thinking you were going to leave him there, but suddenly he feels himself getting dragged up and onto your lap.

Now above you, he feels a bit of control, but that’s short-lived, the moment he feels your lips on his neck he turns into putty in your hands. Biting and licking, leaving marks that he can’t cover. Your hands slide slower, on his sides and pulling on his bow until it comes undone. You give one harsh bite and he moans, his face now nuzzled between your neck and shoulder, trying to mask his noises. Cute.

With the bow now off, you have more access to his sides, dragging your hands on his skin-tight body suit. Your touch sends shivers down his sides, the body suit doing little to nothing to numb your touch, it’s like he’s not wearing anything.

Interrupting the assault on his neck, you look in between your bodies, at his shorts. There’s a little wet spot forming at the tip, and you can see it twitching. “Can I?” you ask, pulling him from his hair to make him look at you in the eyes. He nods quickly and fails to cover the moan that escapes him as you cup his bulge. He is uncharacteristically warm all over, but especially down there.

Tugging at the sides of his shorts, he gets the memo and lifts himself up, just enough for you to slide them mid-tight. As you pull his body suit to the side, freeing his erection, he is suddenly very aware of the fact that you are, in fact, still outside, just a few meters away from the main path.

But that thought quickly gets pushed to the back of his mind as he feels your hands on him. He shivers, your gentle fingers go over his slit, gathering pre cum and sliding it all over his shaft.

His arms drape around your neck as he hides his face on you again, slowly and not so subtly taking in your smell. He is so sensitive , feeling every movement of your soft hand as you slowly jerk him off.

“F-fuck, move faster,” he speaks, muffled and hushed near your ear.

“What’s the magic word?” you continue, agonizingly slow.

Really? You’re pulling this on him now?

“...Please?” he says, even more hushed now.

Satisfied for now, you speed up your movements, alternating between sliding your tight fist over his shaft to rubbing his tip. You hear him moaning and whimpering, all muffled by your shoulder. That simply won’t do.

Your hand comes off him, pushing his back to the ground. He looks at you confused, already missing your touch on him. But then you pull his shorts completely off, spreading his legs enough for you to shimmer in between them. Pushing himself up, he looks down at you. You grab his hands and slowly move them to your head.

Grabbing his legs and dragging him closer to you, you leave a trail of kisses along his tight, stopping to leave a few bites and sucking to leave a mark before moving on to the other one. Everywhere your mouth goes it's followed by a series of dark bruises and bite marks.

He shudders as you place one kiss on his tip, before licking the precum that’s leaking out. The grip on your head tightens as your tongue darts out giving small kitten licks.

Fed up by the teasing, he pushes you forward, managing to sink in half his length before you gag. You try to push back, but his grip holds you in place. You stare at him, angry eyes meeting his. Looking down at you, he smirks before pushing your head further, your nose touching his pelvis, effectively burying himself to the hilt.

His chest heaving heavily, your warm mouth engulfs him fully, and before he’s prepared he feels your mouth bobbing up and down his length, tongue swirling and licking a prominent vein on his cock.

“F-fuck, that’s good…” he moans, unable to muffle it as both his hands are busy on your head.

His stomach churls, watching as you work hard to get him off. He jolts when he feels you pinch the inside of his thigh, twitching in your mouth as he feels his climax approaching.

“ ‘m close…” he musters out in between moans, his grip tightening on your hair. His hips move forward, slowly at first, but he speeds up, now actively fucking your throat.

He doesn’t even notice you stopped moving your head, letting him use your mouth however he pleases.

“I’m gonna-... hah! F-fuck I’m gonna cum”, his moans are now just a series of hushed “ah’s” making your heart flutter. He’s so cute when he’s desperate.

You have half a mind to edge him and make him fight for his release, but you want to see him cum. You want to see how his face crunches in pleasure. You want to be the reason he finds himself breathless.

He thrusts in you one last time before releasing, thighs clenching around your head. Warm spurts of cum shoot down your throat as you struggle to swallow it all. He holds your head in place, no intent of letting go until he feels his body go limp.

He falls with his back laying on the ground with a soft thud. Taking your mouth off his softening cock you climb on top of his body, Kissing him, he grimaces at the bitter taste of his own release. Your hands still roaming his body, one pinching his nipples through the body suit while the other reaches down in between his legs.

“ hah… mh! wait, I just finished-” he whimpers while closing his legs on your hand.

“Who said I was done with you? I haven’t gotten my fill yet.” you free your hand, getting up and rucking your pants down, and you take off your underwear too.

Kunikuzushi’s eyes immediately fall down, staring at your leaking cunt. He wants it in his mouth. He wants to be inside you, he feels his cock twitch as it starts to harden once again.

You straddle his hips, this time, sitting on his dick, slowly grinding your core on it. His hands grab your waist, dragging you closer to himself, his face looks so soft, his lips so biteable. You kiss him once again, caressing one side of his face. His fingers dig into your hips with need, you can feel him now fully hard against your thigh.

He lets out a small gasp as you grab him in your palm, aligning him with your hole.

“w-wait…” he gets cut off as you slowly sink on him. His head falls back as he lets out a guttural moan, you feel heavenly. Your insides are warm and your walls flutter around him, sending shivers down his spine.

His face is crunched up, not in pain… he just looks like he’s concentrating really hard, with fingers still gripping your sides, he looks at you with lidded eyes.

Locking eyes with him, your hips move forward. It’s the smallest movement, but it sends his head spinning in pleasure, biting his lips and trying to hold back his moans. It’s when you start bouncing on him with a rhythm that he totally loses control. Moaning with no shame, his hands now have a messy grip on whatever they can hold of you.

He looks like a mess, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, his eyes are unfocused and there’s a bit of drool on the side of his mouth. Your hand slowly moves to his neck, you’re aware he doesn’t need to breathe, but squeezing his throat gets a reaction out of him anyway.

“That’s right… only I can make you feel like this,” he moans, interrupting you. “Only I can make you feel this good. Got that?”, he nods, his eyes closed shut.

Leaning down to leave more marks on his neck, you hear him whimpering right in your ears. It only spurs you on, riding him faster while he squirms and writes under you.

He doesn’t speak this time, but you can tell he’s already close. You are too, his cute little noises only fueling the fire in the pit of your stomach.

Biting on his neck, he gasps, back arching off the ground while he holds you tighter than ever. You look at how his expression changes, eyes closed with tears prickling at the sides, and then you feel him twitch and a warm sensation flood your insides. It takes him a moment, his arms slide down your sides while he catches his breath. But the moment is short-lived, you start riding him again, his eyes shoot open as he grabs you trying to stop you.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you stop him, shoving two fingers in it. “Suck.” It’s an order, he swirls his tongue around them while sucking. He’s still so sensitive, having just finished. “mhhfm! I- ah- I can’t-” he tries speaking, but you shush him shoving your fingers in deeper making him gag.

Now tears are actively streaming down his face. God, he looks so ruined. Marks all over his neck and thighs, his body suit can partially cover some of them but the rest will be visible. He will be walking around Sumeru and everyone will know that he is yours. Only you can see him like this, only you can fuck him till he cries.

You slam harder on his cock, feeling his come from his previous orgasm leak down his shaft and onto his thighs. The noises coming from the both of you are obscene. Anyone passing by could hear you, the thought makes you clench on him. Feeling your orgasm approaching, you take your fingers out of his mouth and trap him in a kiss.

Your walls tighten around him, and moaning in his mouth you reach your climax.

Still breathing heavily, you grab his face turning it towards you, tears are still sliding down his face. You place a kiss on the corner of his eye, licking one tear away.

“You… made me swallow your spit,” he says between pants, after a minute of silence. His mind is no longer foggy, he cringes at how high his voice got when he was moaning just a few minutes ago.

“And you enjoyed it,” you say while pushing yourself up, you let his limp cock slip out of you. Leaving his lap to reach for your clothes, you can feel him boring holes in your back.

Does he want to say something…? You offer him a hand to pull him up, which he silently grabs. Pulling his shorts up and helping him redress, he looks at you with rosy cheeks and a slight pout. There are so many thoughts swirling in his head. What was it you said about him being yours…? Did you mean it? It irritated him how you seemed to move on so quickly after fucking his literal brains out.

“You know,” you begin talking, “you are much more submissive than I thought-”

“Fuck off! It’s all your fault. You make me feel all weird all the time.” he snaps back.

“Oh? Don’t tell me I'm giving you butterflies-” he slaps his hand on your mouth, “shut it.”

“and quit licking my hand it’s not gonna make me let go.”

He hears you mumble something and removes his hand. “Okay, okay. I’m not gonna make fun of you. But just so you know, I don’t do one night stands, you’re stuck with me now” You grab his face and drag it closer to you, and when he doesn’t fight back you bring your lips together once again. This one is soft, no longer spurred on by lust and need. When you break the kiss he looks at you with something akin to adoration in his eyes.

“you’re so cute. cute. cute. cute.” you repeat while peppering his whole face with kisses. He groans but lets you do as you please, a defeated look in his eyes as he hears you giggle while kissing him one final time on the lips.

While you keep nuzzling his neck, he looks up at the sky taking notice of how the sun has begun setting, sighing. He guesses Nahida will just have to wait more for her mission to get completed. But at least he has you now to keep him company.

Nahida would be happy to know he’s finally making connections with humans.

#scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #sub scaramouche #sub!scaramouche #dog writes

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highreevess · 2 years

Text

Vibrations

Warnings: Dom!Rafe Cameron, sub!reader, use of sex toys, unprotected sex, degradation kink.

Summary: When Rafe Cameron passes by the reader's room at Tanneyhill, he hears something that makes him stop in his tracks. And when he takes a peek into the room, he sees something that makes all logic go out of the window, and the only thing on his mind is how the reader looks on the bed with her legs spread. A dark fantasy plays around in his mind, and he doesn't have the strength to not play it out.

Word count: 2,605

"Oh, God," I breathe as I press the wand vibrator harder against my sensitive clit.

I squirm in my bed as the vibrations from the vibrator get me closer and closer to orgasm with each passing second.

As I close my eyes and just feel the vibrator against my clit, my back arches off of the bed. "Oh fuck."

I've only used this vibrator once before because I only received it in the mail yesterday, but God, this feels amazing.

I can't explain how it feels; all I can say is that when I angle it just the right way, my back arches off of the bed, and my muscles tighten in pleasure.

I snake my hand up my waist and up my shirt until I find my left breast. I begin to roll my nipple between my thumb and forefinger and whimper at the feeling. I adjust the way I'm holding the vibrator and press it harder against my clit.

That's all it takes for the coil in my lower stomach to snap. I cum with a loud moan that I don't try to smother because nobody is home. My body shakes with pleasure as my orgasm hits me like a truck, and my grip on my breast tightens.

When my orgasm ends, I quickly lift the vibrator off of my clit because the vibrations are way too intense to keep it on just after cumming. I move the hand that is on my breast and place it over my heart as I intake deep breaths, trying to calm myself.

After a minute, my breathing slows, and my eyes flutter open.

I gasp when I see Rafe Cameron in my doorway, his arms crossed over his clothed chest.

I quickly shove the wand vibrator under the covers and close my legs. I grab the duvet and yank it over me as if that would erase Rafe's mind of what I know he just saw.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" I snarl, my cheeks reddening to the color of tomatoes in embarrassment. "You're supposed to be out with Sarah, Wheezie, and Mr. C." Sarah directly told me that Mr. Cameron was taking her and Wheezie back to school shopping on the mainland. Rafe was supposed to go with them.

He raises a brow, the corner of his lips tugging up. "This is my house."

"This isn't your room," I sneer, clutching the duvet in my hands like it's a lifeline.

"If you didn't want me here, you should have locked the door." He gestures to the lock on the doorknob. "You shouldn't have made such pretty noises."

"Fuck you," I snarl, the redness in my cheeks no doubt spreading to my neck.

His smirk widens. "I'd love to, but I think I want to see you cum on that vibrator again."

My eyes widen, and my mouth falls agape at his words.

I'm silent for a full fifteen seconds before the shock wears off. When it does, I scoff. "Get the fuck out, Rafe."

His eyes narrow, and his lip curls as if in thought. After a moment, he says, "nah. I think I'll stay and get what I want." He glances at the doorknob and places his hand on it. Then, he turns the lock.

I swallow. "Rafe, whatever you're about to do—"

"Won't be anything you won't enjoy," he says, cutting me off. He stalks forward, his strides long and calculated. When he gets within a foot of me, he glances at the white duvet that covers me. Then, he looks back up at me. "You can choose how this goes. Either you can remove the comforter yourself, or I can do it for you."

Something about the way he is looking at me—with black, hooded eyes, clouded with lust—makes my thighs clench.

Though I know this is wrong—he's Sarah's brother for fuck's sake—I can't help the way my stomach does summersaults at the dominance in his voice.

I had always been attracted to him. I mean, just look at him. But I never thought that he would end up in my room telling me he wanted to watch me make myself cum.

So, I don't make a move to do anything. I don't move to tell him to get out, but I also don't move to throw the comforter onto the floor.

And he notices this with a narrowing of his eyes. "Fine, I see you want to do this the hard way."

He leans down and yanks the duvet off of my body, leaving me in nothing but the t-shirt I wear.

His eyes go to my bare legs and then the vibrator next to them, which is still plugged into the wall behind my bed.

He leans forward and goes for my shirt, but I quickly grab my shirt with my own hands and give him a pleading look.

He meets my gaze and narrows his eyes. "Take it off."

I shake my head and tighten my grip on the shirt. "Please." I don't want to take it off.

His eyes narrow even more, and he glances down at the shirt before returning his gaze to me. "Fine. It can stay on. But that's it."

I nod my head and loosen my grip on the shirt I wear. I allow myself to relax a bit, and he notices.

He reaches over me and grabs the vibrator on my bed. He turns it on and places his unoccupied hand on the bulbous head, feeling the vibrations emitting from the vibrator for himself. His brows raise when his hand vibrates from the power of the toy, and the corner of his lips turns up. "I see why you were so loud now."

I flush and avert my gaze.

He slowly moves the vibrator until it touches my upper thigh. "Open up."

When I realize that he is talking about my legs, I swallow and slowly spread my legs a few inches.

His eyes narrow when I don't move to open them any wider than four inches. His jaw ticks and he grabs onto my right thigh with his large hand, his nails digging into the soft flesh. I whimper, and he just smirks.

He parts my thighs wide, giving him a full view of what's between my legs. His eyes drop to my pussy and darken when he gets a good look at it. "Fuck, how many times did you make yourself cum? You're dripping." He darts his hand out, swiping the slit of my pussy with his finger.

My hips involuntarily buck against his finger, and he smirks. "You like this already? I've barely touched you." The condescension in his voice makes me glare at him.

He doesn't even acknowledge my glare. He just readjusts his grip on the vibrator in his hand and slowly glides it to my inner thighs, just an inch away from where I need him.

I go to buck my hips so I can get the vibrator where I need it, but he stops me by giving me a hard look that could turn me into ash.

Slowly and torturously, he glides the vibrator up and down my inner thigh until I'm whining and glaring at him. "Damn it, Rafe," I snarl, and his eyes narrow. He removes the vibrator from my thigh altogether. "Is there something you need?"

Though I want to slap him for feigning ignorance, I don't. I know it will just piss him off. So instead, I say, "please, Rafe."

"Please what?"

I huff in frustration. "Are you really going to make me say it?"

"Yes.

I glare at him but do as he requests. "The vibrator. Put it where I need it, please."

His eyes narrow as if he wants me to be more specific, but he relents and moves the vibrator away from my inner thigh. He places it on my clit, and I gasp.

The vibrations are almost too intense, and I don't know if I want to back away from the vibrator or into it.

A long moan is forced out of my throat as Rafe pushes the vibrator harder on my clit, and I fall back into the mattress. "Oh, fuck."

I grab the sheets of my bed and ball them up in my fists as I get more and more sensitive with each passing second.

"It's too much," I tell Rafe, and he just chuckles. "You wanted this," he tells me, "so take it."

The sheer dominance in his voice makes me moan.

My head falls into the pillow below me as my muscles relax, and I allow my moans to fall freely as the vibrator Rafe holds against my clit gets me closer and closer to orgasm.

And when I feel that familiar tingly feeling in my stomach, I meet Rafe's gaze with wide eyes. I whisper his name, and he smirks at me. "Go on, Y/N. Let go."

I don't know why, but once those words leave his lips, my mouth parts in a loud cry, and I cum. I hear my nails rip the sheets as I ride out my orgasm, and my body begins to shake.

When I come off the orgasm-induced cloud, I let a content sigh escape my lips and meet Rafe's darkened gaze.

I see him with his belt unbuckled, and my eyebrows furrow. When did he unbuckle that?

He turns the vibrator off before getting closer to me, and before I get the chance to ask what he's about to do, he climbs on top of me and places his hand over my mouth. "I'm going to fuck you now."

My eyes widen, and I try to say something, but it comes out muffled and incoherent because of the hand he has over my mouth.

"And you're going to be a good girl for me and take it, right?" he asks as he reaches between the two of us, no doubt to pull down his pants and boxers.

He removes his hand from my mouth to let me speak, and I immediately say, "Rafe, we can't. It's too wrong—"

"What's wrong?" he asks, cutting me off. "I'll tell you what's wrong, Y/N. What's wrong is you walking around this house—my house—in those tight tops and those shorts that barely cover your ass. What's wrong is you wearing those bikinis that cover nothing when you go swimming in my pool. What's wrong is you teasing me by bending over in those short little sundresses like a slut and expecting me to just ignore the hot piece of ass living just across the fucking hall."

I feel something smooth and hard brush against my pussy, and my eyes widen even more.

"Do you have any idea what it feels like to want to fuck your kid sister's best friend? Any idea what it's like to have to jerk off in the shower after seeing your younger sister's best friend all dolled up for dinner with my family because I can't fuck her instead?"

He begins to gently prod the head of his cock against my pussy. "No, of course, you don't. You never will. But you'll do this. You'll let me fuck this pretty little cunt because you know you owe me."

He begins to slowly push into me, and I moan at the sheer size of him. The girth is so much more than I've ever felt before.

When he hears the moan escape my throat, he chuckles and pushes in another three inches of his cock. "Fuck, you really are a slut. I'm not even halfway inside of you, and you're already moaning?"

"I'm not a slut," I snarl as I grab onto his biceps.

"No?" he asks, looking down at me. "Then why is your cunt gripping my cock so tightly? Why are you moaning for my cock when I'm not even fucking you yet?"

I glare at him and seal my lips shut so I don't accidentally moan again. If I do, it will only prove Rafe's point.

But my silence also seems to prove Rafe's point because he chuckles and bottoms out with a small groan. "If you weren't a slut, you wouldn't be letting me fuck your pretty cunt right now."

"I'm not," I snarl even though it's a complete lie.

"Then why aren't you fighting me?" he asks, pulling out of me only to pleasurably push back in. "Why aren't you saying no?"

He pulls out and slowly pushes in again before leaning down so that his mouth is close to my ear. "I'll tell you why," he breathes, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. "Because you're a whore who likes to get fucked." He reaches down to play with my clit. "Because you like having a cock inside of you."

A breathless chuckle passes his lips. "And guess what? I like to fuck whores, and I like having my cock inside of you." He pulls out and slams into me, causing my head to hit the headboard behind me. "We're a perfect fit."

He grabs my left leg and moves it so that it rests just above his hip. Then, he starts fucking me.

He fucks me at a fast pace, his thrusts hard and punishing, and I can't help but moan at the pure bliss he brings me.

My nails dig into the flesh of his arms as he fucks me, and he doesn't even care. He just fucks me hard and fast as he whispers filthy things into my ear.

"Oh, fuck," I whimper when he brings my leg up and places it on top of his shoulder. His cock hits that one spot inside of me that turns me into a whimpering mess.

I feel him remove one of my hands from his biceps, and I redirect my gaze so I can see why.

He places my hand on my stomach, and says, "you feel that? That's my cock in your stomach."

My pussy flutters at the filthy words coming out of his mouth, and I can't help but whimper.

He presses down my hand, and I gasp when I feel an intense feeling in my lower stomach. I meet his gaze with wide eyes, and he smirks. "This will help you cum," he simply says as he fucks me.

"Rafe, it's too much," I tell him. With him fucking me, playing with my clit, and pressing down on my lower stomach all at once, I feel like I'm going to explode.

"Good."

I dig my nails into his bicep in anger, hard enough to break the skin, and he just laughs. "Hurt me all you want. It just turns me on."

His next thrust is harder than all of the previous ones, and that singular thrust sends me into a cloud of pleasure. My body wracks with a shudder as I cum with a loud cry.

Rafe fucks me through my orgasm, his thrusts hard and unwavering in their pace. Only when I come down from my orgasm does Rafe drop my leg back onto the bed and ask, "are you on the pill?"

I shake my head, my eyes widening at the thought of being pregnant by him, but, thankfully, he pulls out of me before he cums. He leans back on his knees and jerks his cock for a few seconds before tilting his head back in a low moan, releasing himself onto my thighs.

When he finishes emptying himself on the skin of my thighs, he looks down at me and slowly smirks. "Looks like you're mine now."

Taglist: @phildunphyisadilf @houseofperfecttaste

#rafe cameron x you #obx smut #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron x y/n #outer banks imagine

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alittlextrathatway · 7 months

Note

Honestly any lyric from Universe can fit brettsey but I think I’ll go with “You make me believe in something bigger than just me”

You can choose the location! Please tag me when you’re done! I think this is so cool!

And back to canon we go with this one lol.

Let's see what location shall I pick?

How about...

on the street.

***

He leaves again tomorrow, but not forever this time.

He'll be back and forth for the next few months as Ben finishes school and makes the transition to college. After that, he'll be back in Chicago full time to build the life with Sylvie he's been dreaming about for years.

Tonight, they're headed to Molly's to announce their engagement and say his goodbyes. But before they head in, he has more he's been wanting to say to Sylvie.

He tugs on her hand and squeezes her fingers. As she turns to look at him he nods toward the small alley next to the bar. She follows him with a concerned expression on her far too beautiful face. He takes in every inch of it, from the wrinkle between her eye brows to the downturned corners of her mouth.

He presses her against the wall, caging her in with his hands on her hips and then smiles at her, hoping to soothe her concern.

"Before we go in there and I have to share you for the rest of the night," he begins, pressing a swift kiss to her lips. "I wanted to talk a bit."

The tension melts out of her body and she leans her weight against the wall, bringing her hands and arms up to rest on his shoulders. "Well, you know I love it when you decide to use your words. It usually works out pretty well for us," she teases.

He chuckles and sends her a mock glare. "Noted."

"What topic did you have in mind this time?" She asks, smiling brighter despite his narrowed eyes.

"I know long distance isn't what either of us wants," he says, diving right in. If he's learned anything form almost losing Sylvie it's that it's better to be up front than dance around the big issues. "So, before we jump back into that for the next few months I just want to make sure you know that it's going to be different this time. I'm going to be different. I want to make more intentional choices about how I spend my time, especially my time with you."

"Matt..."

He can tell she's about to let him off the hook for all the times he cancelled on her and didn't return her willingness to travel for the sake of their relationship so he cuts her off. "Don't say I don't need to, Sylvie, we both know that's not true."

She rolls her lips and sighs but nods, conceding his point. "Okay."

"I let our relationship slip on my priorities list and, yes, the boys are important but they shouldn't be more important than you. You and them, and now Julia too, should all be on equal footing. Until I'm back here with you permanently I'm going to make sure that's the case. Losing you again isn't an option."

"You won't," Sylvie promises. "This time if I start to feel like we're fading away then I'll tell you. I won't hold it in and try to deal with it on my own. You weren't the only problem, Matt. I failed us too. But we made it though it, we're here together now, and that's what's important. And this time, everything seems to be leading to us ending up closer together -- not further apart."

"Our stars are aligning you mean?" He asks, an affectionate grin tugging at his lips.

She sighs again, this time she sounds relieved and content, as if she's finally comfortable. Finally, in his arms again like she was always meant to be. "Yes, our stars are finally lining up."

"I never really believed in that kind of thing before you," he admits.

"What kind of thing?"

"Meant to be, fate, kismet. Whatever you wanna call it. The big picture or grand design. I just thought we search out our people and we commit to being good to them. You make the best of where you are and the people you're with. And that's it."

"And I changed your mind?" Sylvie asks.

He rests his forehead against hers while he nods. His eyes mist over as they always do when he stops to think about the gravity of his feelings for Sylvie Brett. "You changed everything. The way you love me and the boys, the way you just knew Julia was made to be yours, the timing of all of it with Ben going off to college. You're the one that brings the pieces together for me. You help me see the design amidst all the chaos. If that makes any sense."

"It makes perfect sense," she agrees, tightening her hold on him and pulling him closer. "To me anyway."

Of course it does because she understands him in a way no one else every has before. "I love you."

"I love you too."

And now he gets to spend the rest of his life reminding her of that as often as possible.

#brettsey #sylvie brett #matt casey #write4life13 #matt casey x sylvie brett #prompt fic #my fic #angellwings writes

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silverhandj · 4 months

Text

SilverV,

I think I wrote about this on my old blog but this dynamic is heavily reliant on the fact that one cannot exist without the other and both are entitled to have their own hold on life with their dreams and desires. It gets crowded when one has a biological claim to the body it's lived a life in, and that line gets crossed when another is unable to stop its claim to taking over their body. There is never no choice for V, it's an illusion Johnny makes to comfort V the very same way Robert Linder was comforted in the trenches with Johnny.

Would you die for me?

I love this scene because it's so vulnerable and romantic, it's very much giving hope to a hopeless situation. I've just always hated how easy it is to think that Johnny is saving them out of love. This question is always one way, Johnny will always choose his life over V's, no matter the context. This is his only personal flaw that's his to choose, his own agenda that isn't influenced at all by V.

Which leads me to not vibe with the SilverV dynamic sometimes because it's never a relationship based on equal footing, one person has to be something for the other the same way the other has to be him.

The way each other copes with this is by handling business, being the hero, compartmentalizing all this shit with extreme situations which put each other's life to the test.

Just would also like to note that this dynamic was shared between Rogue and Johnny before Rogue cut him off cold and smartened up. V doesn't have that luxury, and frankly, Johnny doesn't either.

Personal autonomy is important for Johnny, back when he was actually alive and its something he's programmed to feel and to know he has something that's all his? He's a greedy, selfish man with something to prove to you, to Night City. He's the raving nutjob on the side of the road yelling about Arasaka took his choom from him when he's the one who actually forced him out and give him something to live for.

There's always a revenge story, there's always a bomb to blow, there's always a redemption arc. He wants you to die for him.

The memories you're forced to re-live as Johnny as V are all constructed by Johnny. He only ever wants V to remember the good parts about him, the cool parts he's actively lived. There's something very inherently lonely about Johnny which makes him want to live life with V, a way in which he enjoys the chaos you two make in Night City because it's exactly the same shit he did when he was alive.

There's love there for sure because V is forced to stomach all of Johnny Silverhand's ugly, the way that he's actively killing him just for keeping him alive the same way he's keeping you alive by fighting with you instead of against you. He's never had that kind of active support for that long, everyone at some point or the other has left him or have actually died for him.

Which puts his feelings and emotions into perspective. Which is why he can push aside anyone who isn't V and sit at their table with a heavy heart and an even heavier hand when he finally gets that there doesn't have to be a revenge story, there doesn't have to be a bomb, there can't even be a you and him existing on the same plane because you're both cut from the same cloth trying to fucking win something, and he'd be damned if he wasn't honest with you at the end of the line.

So if you're here to tell me something, it's cause you need to hear it yourself.

Johnny can't bear to say I love you to a body gone cold of you when you give it up in don't fear the reaper, which is why he leaves Night City.

Johnny can't bear to forgive you or himself when you ask Arasaka for help, because you gave up on yourself which means you must've given up on him at some point.

Johnny understands your decision to lean into the NUSA for help with saving your life, but he needs you to let go, he needs to know that no matter how much time you've spent together as each other, you're still gonna be the better person. This ending is special, because this ending is a permanent one for Johnny instead of the others and he's at peace with it. Because no one's dying for him, he's asking you to stay alive for him.

And that's the point, no matter how high the affinity meter is, he actually does love V but it's complicated because he can never actually be there the way he would if he were alive. Which makes him wonder, would this have happened at all if they both were still alive as two different people?

I leave u with David Bowie based songs that fit bc Mike Pondsmith based Johnny Silverhand off of and i'm a nerd and need there to be a a soundtrack for every stupid ship I brainrot over

That's the thing, there's a string of hope forced upon them both, and even if there's no happy endings for people like them maybe it's enough to love and be loved in the end.

#vihrago wanted silverv rot so here i am #it's easy to write about SilverV from V's perspective but no one really considers Johnny's perspective on it #bc he's literally eating away at them #anyways this applys to ALL the silverV dynamics #obviously it's gonna be different for everyone #like how he can't stomach having to be someone for V to look up to because it makes him Uncomfy #which is why I generalized this dynamic

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myheadisemptyffonly · 2 years

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Barty Crouch Jr. was always an overly curious child, unable to leave a question unanswered and smart enough to make those answers if adults didn't give them to him. And it is precisely this infinite curiosity that leads him to leave his bedroom on his first night in the castle, when he realizes that the bed next to his is empty.

He had woken up in the middle of the night for no apparent reason, to find one of his two roommates missing and, in view of the lack of light in the bathroom, he made the decision to go out to find him. Not that he was particularly worried about this housemate of his, he hadn't even properly introduced himself to him, but still he couldn't help but feel that start of curiosity creeping down his skin and so, with careful steps, he had made his way to the common room.

He wasn't sure what he expected to find, but certainly the sight of Regulus Black softly crying at the foot of one of the sofas with his arms wrapped around his knees was far from it. As if in a trance, almost as if a thread was pulling him in that direction, he took the few steps left to reach Regulus and stood awkwardly in front of him.

"Are you okay?"

A small shudder ran through the shorter boy, cutting off his sobs and forcing him to lift his face from his knees. "I'm f-fine"

"Sure, and you're crying for nothing then" he shot him a skeptical look and crossed his arms "Come on, why don't you tell me why you're crying?"

The answer was not immediate, the little Black boy looked suspiciously at Barty, but in the end, perhaps because of exhaustion, perhaps because of his sadness, can't help but start to cry harder again and start talking.

"My brother hates me. Siri doesn't want to have anything to do with me, he doesn't love me anymore and he doesn't want to be my brother anymore" the little sobs were shrill in the empty common room, bouncing on the walls and imprinting on the air. Barty let the little Slytherin cry for a few minutes, quite uncomfortable at not knowing what to say and racking his brain for a solution; he himself had no siblings or cousins so he didn't feel experienced enough to deal with this, he had been a lonely child for so long, but right now he desperately wished he could remedy this situation.

"If he's not going to be your brother, then I will be." More confident than he felt, Barty sat down next to Regulus on the rug and placed one hand on top of the other's.

"W-what? I, we don't even know each other. How can you say that?"

"Isn't it like that with all brothers? They aren't born knowing each other, they learn to love each other along the way. Maybe we don't know us now but we will, from now on I'm your brother" and so a pact passed between them, Barty with serious eyes and steady hands, and Regulus with a shocked look and sparkling eyes.

They stayed in the common room all night, holding hands firmly as they shared little parts of themselves, letting their emotions flow. They were barely 11 years old and knew almost nothing about life, but it still felt like a moment of growth, a lesson that would always be with them, about how family can be who we choose.

Sometimes you love someone just by seeing them once, and it's terrifying, like fate is screaming at you "Here, right here is where you belong." For Barty Crouch Jr, the first time he saw Regulus Black crying, he felt like an epiphany, a destined moment coming into his life, it was understanding that here was a person he knew nothing about, but somehow it was already his.

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weepingvoidpenguin · 3 years

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Unfortunately Yours

Summary: When you and Bucky successfully infiltrate a HYDRA auction, you’re told to stay another day due to max capacity on the jet. But how are you going to survive a night alone with this insufferable Super Soldier? Especially considering the miniscule size of the room and the obvious dilemma presented; who gets the bed?

Warning: S M U T , the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written, language, spit kink, daddy kink, ptsd symptoms, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism, hate-s e x, rough, more like enemies-to-lovers kind of thing, gagging, m!receiving, f!receiving, lots of receiving lol, 18+, M

Word Count: 10.6K (Whhhyyyyy)

Your body burned with exhaustion and the sheer weight of your extremities felt enough to drag you to the floor and mirror a coma with the length of your hibernation. You no longer had the minimal strength required to pick up your feet properly which resulted in the sound of shuffling to fill the small, and by small you meant miniscule, room you’d been assigned to.

Well, you and Bucky had been assigned to.

You’d both played your parts well enough over the course of the last few hours. You’d sauntered into the ran-shacked looking bar with Bucky’s arm tossed lazily over your shoulder, his distaste for the assignment evident on his face, but he’d cleared it away the second his foot crossed the threshold. He pulled you in tighter to his body and raised his chin into the air, emitting the energy of a man not to be trifled with. You’d portrayed your role as a damsel just as, if not more, convincing as Barnes’ opposite. Your shoulders hunched over and your steps were small and quivering, the wig on your head a tool used to curtain the hair in your face.

You were the lamb to this White Wolf.

Word had traveled through the dark and twisted grapevine that a certain showing of sorts took place tonight and a high-ranking target was rumored to be amongst its audience. You and Barnes were on the first flight to Germany within minutes.

Bucky had pulled you through the crowd moving along to the thundering music in the background and halted at the edge of the bar. His grip on your shoulder tightened once he’d caught the man’s attention and you winced, his fingers digging a little too deep for your liking.

The bartender scanned you over and took in your frame, making you feel smaller than you had already displayed yourself to be. It took him a while to conclude but when he took in Bucky’s domineering gaze, a look as if to say Deny me, I dare you, he nodded once and wrote something down on a napkin, sliding it over to Bucky.

Scum. All of them.

You nearly blew your cover trying to throw Bucky a look but you refrained from the hellfire clawing its way out of you. You had to be perfectly in control, emotions and beliefs aside. You were a damsel and you had to make certain they believed that. You knew they were watching; they always were.

“Relax,” Bucky hissed, pulling you under his arm and bringing his lips to your ear.

“When you pretend you’re the one being put up for auction, then you can tell me to relax,” you muttered, never looking up from the ground.

“I have been.” When you paused your movement, he pulled away to scan the room, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you. I promise.” He led you backstage and turned the corner to a dimly lit hallway, barren of any decoration in sharp contrast to every other section of the building, “Besides, once they realize how insufferable you are, they’ll be begging me to take you back,”

He opened an iron door and pushed you into the room, sending you tumbling down onto the carpet. He tsked, stepping over you and not looking back after shutting the door behind himself. You counted thirteen pairs of feet and judging by the way some of them were turned towards you, they had to be watching. You observed your hands for a second, counting slowly until you figured you’d stalled long enough and sent your trembling gaze to the exit. Bucky let out a low chuckle and clasped his hand around your upper arm, launching you back onto your feet and twisting your body to face him.

Oh, darling, German fluently escaped his tongue and you nearly rolled your eyes at the condescending tone settled in his words, You know better than that, don’t you?

His hold tightened and you winced, holding back the whimper in your throat. If you saw any hint of a bruise forming on your arm, you would give him hell later . . . and possibly even if you didn’t.

You bit your tongue and let him lead you towards a leather chair before he pulled you swiftly down onto his lap where his hand remained on your thigh, brushing the inside softly. Had you not been so annoyed, you’d have been humiliated at all the stares devouring the scene unfolding before them.

Good girl, he drawled and pressed your back flat up against his chest where he could put you on display.

You knew you should’ve been annoyed, or at least settled so into your role as his temporary whore-for-sale that the sensation coming alive between your thighs shouldn’t have made an appearance. But sometimes, the way Bucky brought his voice down real low and cooed an insult or jest your way just had an affect that your body would not deny. It kept you awake a lot.

Instead, you swallowed hard and let yourself be splayed against him. You ignored the scent of sandalwood in his cologne.

Your body trembled from the cold breeze floating around in the room and you shifted in Bucky’s lap to block everyone’s sight from the way your chest reacted to the change in temperature.

Don’t be shy, he murmured and removed your arms from your breasts, letting the thin, practically see-through fabric show you to the world.

“Buc-” You started, your panic creeping through the cracks at the cheshire sneers sent your way, but at the first sign of your discomfort, he retracted his hands and twisted you around gently, throwing your legs over the side of the chair and spreading them but forcing your upper half to face him. Effectively, cutting your chest off from their line of sight.

You trembled out a sigh and he grabbed your face tightly, drawing your eyes to his. He examined you, his hardened gaze shouting words he couldn’t currently say. But you understood. He could be a jerk, but he wasn’t a bad man.

Your body instinctively leaned into him for warmth as another breeze engulfed you, resulting in a shiver that made its way up your spine. “Are they still looking?” you inquired and he gripped your neck with a ferocity that made you squirm in his lap. Fuck.

He pulled your ear to his lips and licked the helix. You whimpered. “No,” he whispered, running his thumb along your jawline, “But if you don’t quit fucking squirming you’re gonna have a problem, Doll,”

You opened your mouth in question when you felt a sudden twitch on your backside and you swallowed. Hard. He never broke eye contact with you, instead choosing to raise a brow in mocking. Your chest heaved up and down and how you could feel his breath grazing on your cheek almost had you rubbing your legs together for some form of desperate friction. No, you had to keep yourself composed, keep the act going. But he’d seen it. All of it.

You nod your head and slowed your breathing down until he released his grip around your throat and turned his attention towards the dim stage. You leaned back into him and followed suit, making sure to keep your attention downcast and appear disheveled.

“There,” Bucky whispered after a few minutes and you lifted your head only to find the man you had come all this way for walking straight towards you.

Like a moth to a flame.

“How much?” The older man inquired, his grotesque gaze settled on your spread legs.

Bucky looked up at the balding man as if this was the first time he’d noticed his presence, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”

The man lifted his brow, or what would’ve been, and smiled wickedly, “I’ll give you double your price if you give her to me now,” he offered, his eyes slithering up to the apex of your thighs and this time you didn’t have to fake the shiver running up your spine.

A small smirk formed on Bucky’s face and he waved his hand dismissively at him, “Get in line,”

The old man sneered but Bucky was right, most everyone had their attention fixated on what was happening currently and it was apparent there was, indeed, a line.

Bucky rested his gloved hand on your upper thigh and gripped tight, whether to refrain from hitting the guy or just to touch you, he wasn’t sure but he couldn’t keep you away when the man said, “I’ll give you four times the asking price but I want her now,”

Bucky’s grip on your thigh tightened and you squeaked at the pain, jumping slightly in his lap. “How about I give her to you for free for ten minutes and you tell me if you can handle her,”

You jerked your head towards Bucky and furrowed your brows. Free? Dick. You nearly scoffed.

The man gripped onto your calf and you shifted to kick his hand away when Bucky’s own shot out and and ripped his off of you, “Don’t touch my stuff,” he spit and the man let out a yell but that only spurred Bucky on and he tightened his fist, “Until terms are agreed upon, she remains mine to do with as I please. Understood?”

The man nodded hastily and Bucky threw you off his lap when he stood up. “Anyone else?” Bucky shouted to the room, daring others to test his limits when it came to you. After a few moments of silence Bucky scoffed, “I didn’t fucking think so,”

Bucky’s grip on the man remained and he stared down at the hunched figure, “Now, you,” he addressed and the room remained silent. This was allowed here.

Normally, merchandise couldn’t be touched until it was purchased. No buying before the auction, no discussing what you’re offering, no negotiating but most importantly don’t try to steal from anyone. These are criminals and that being said, they handle things amongst themselves. They know the rules and the risks they take breaking them.

So, when Bucky drags the poor bastard away, you follow right behind him. Not a protest to be heard. Bucky throws open the door we entered through and finds the nearest room before chucking the HYDRA agent inside and locking the door behind you.

The room was brightly lit, with all four walls a dull cream color and dark brown couches strewn casually about. There’s no real order to this place. All cement corners and LED bulbs. Pure business.

“Let ‘em know,” Bucky orders and you turn around to argue only to find the man pulling a gun out of his jacket pocket.

You jerk suddenly and kick Bucky square in the stomach, launching him towards one of the couches just as a shot rings out. You blanch at the sound, the noise filling your head and drowning everything else out. You hear yelling but you can’t make out the words, only the panic intermingled within them. Your hand reaches out around you and you grip the small button lined into your thin clothing, pressing it four times how you’d been instructed.

Everything moved slowly and people began filing into the room. How did they get here so fast? No. It wasn’t possible, they were a quarter mile down the road, there was no way they were your backup.

Hands began flying in the air and you were picked up and dropped multiple times, each time landing harder than the last. You tried to blink back the spinning but the blows landing on your face and torso made it all the worse.

Instinctively, you threw your hands up to protect your face and fought to find some footing to help. Bucky was good but he wasn’t a God, he would need help. When the first blow met your forearms you reached out to grasp the hand and used your other to drive your fist right into the person’s nose. The bone crunched under your blow.

You took a hit, then another when you managed to analyze the enemy’s fight pattern and waited until he left himself open before driving your knee into his rib cage. He bent over in pain and you grabbed him by the hair, hearing another crack when you shoved your elbow upwards against his nose.

You heard a shout and whipped your head over to see Bucky on his back, a looming figure with a gun aimed straight towards him. You galvanized towards them and threw yourself in the air, using your weight to kick him off of Bucky when another shot rang out.

Bucky shot up and crushed the gun with his metal arm. You scoured the room for the familiar HYDRA agent but found him nowhere. You shot out of the room, knocking into an opposing wall as you turned the corner and ducked when the sound of a bullet whizzed past you.

This is not going good. You had lost your target and rummaged through room after room until you’d become lost. Fuck. Where the hell did he run off to? You winced after breaking out into a sprint but pressed on, not allowing yourself to slow down. There was no way you were going to fail this mission, especially after coming so close to success.

Sweat trailed down your face and your muscles screamed at you to halt, their exhaustion beginning to wear you down. Your breathing grew rapid and your vision blurred and just as you went to lean on a wall to rest, your shoulder exploded out in pain and you collapsed with a cry.

“Dirty whore,” the HYDRA man seethed, a cane raised over his head. He brought it down and you spun to the side, feeling the air breeze past your ear.

Your hand latched onto the cane and you shoved it into his gut, pushing him away. SHIELD wanted this guy alive, so alive they would receive him. That didn’t mean he had to come in one piece though.

You tore the walker out of his hand just as he tumbled onto his ass. You stood up, grunting along the way and hovered over his body, fear sprawled along his features.

“You can either stay still or get beat with your own cane, it’s your choice,” you offered, aching to bring the walker down onto his face. “Please test me. Please.” You begged.

His gaze shifted between you and the weapon and he brought his trembling hands up in defeat. He must’ve been an agent of some Intelligence branch because his fighting abilities were evidently subpar at best.

You sighed, sad to see the opportunity go but brought the cane down none the less. “That’s unfortunate,”

You turned your attention to the sound of running coming around the corner and moved to drag and hide your captive in a nearby closet only to roll your eyes when Bucky came ‘round. You tossed the cane back and forth between your hands and smiled proudly towards the agent on the floor.

“Look who I caught,” you toyed and were met with a grunt.

“Only because you let him get away,” he retorted, pulling the balding man up to his feet.

Everything began to slow and the hellfire you’d kept under mounds of ice had finally melted through its freezing cage. “What?”

He turned his back towards you and trudged the hesitant man behind him towards the exit.

“I said,” you hollered, not caring how the halls carried your echo, “What?”

“I heard what you said,” he called back to you, not bothering to turn around.

And there you were left, frozen and dumbfounded for five solid minutes before you could pull yourself together enough to stomp your way back towards the rendezvous point. You remained hazy for the most part while debriefing. You tried to recount everything but the way your anger engulfed you in its flame obscured your memory so you kept it short.

It was quickly brought up that SHIELD captured more HYDRA agents than expected and were gonna be at max capacity so you and Bucky had to stay at a base a few miles down the road. You grumbled in compliance but Bucky didn’t respond, not even a godforsaken grunt.

What SHIELD had failed to mention though, was that this bunker was clearly meant for one. It barely counted as a room. There was a small bathroom in the corner just big enough for a shower and toilet. No sink. And a small counter with just enough space for a stove, microwave and radio. If you were to lay down vertically or horizontally you’d nearly be touching wall each way. Not to mention the singular bed.

And that’s how you got to where you were now. Miniscule room. Exhausted body. Drained mind. Patience long gone.

You huffed and dropped your bag in front of the entrance before walking to the bathroom and turning to slam the door closed. You turned the faucet on and ripped the wig off, discarding your clothes in a pile before stepping into the shower. The warm water was nice and welcoming but your body already felt aflame so you twisted the knob and held your breath when the cold stream trickled down your body. It was difficult to breathe at first, but your body soon adjusted to the temperature and you began wiping the muck off your skin with the bar of soap supplied. But that’s all the was supplied. Clearly, this place was meant to be a quick pit stop.

You sat on the hard floor as the water streamed onto your body. You could nearly fall asleep to its rhythm; It was only when your head hit the wall that you realized you were so you begrudgingly stood up and shut off the water. You grabbed the only towel in the bathroom and pat yourself dry, noticing just then that you left your clothes outside.

You let out a long sigh and twisted open the doorknob to find Bucky toying with the radio on the counter; not even purposefully, just looking for something to do while he waited.

You opened your mouth to ask him to hand you your bag but after what he said to you earlier you’d sooner eat hot coals than ask him to do anything for you. You stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped neatly around your chest and you bent over to open your bag. The shuffling on the radio stopped.

“You could’ve at least left me some warm water,” he grumbled and you rolled your eyes.

You searched in your bag for the fresh clothes residing there only to turn around when you found them and have the bathroom door shut in your face.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You shouted, pounding your fist against the door.

You could hear the water running and you groaned, pounding harder. The door opened for a split second and you were hit in the face with the clothes you’d left inside only for it to instantly be slammed shut again.

You punched the door with all the frustration built up over the past few hours and felt the wood crack with your force. Why did this man have to be incredibly baffling? You were not nearly paid enough to deal with such an unbearable partner. He would have you bald from stress before you knew it.

You spent the next few minutes grumbling to yourself after you changed and scribbled your frustration onto a small notebook you took with you everywhere. It was only when you heard the water shut off did you remember something. You still had the only towel. A villainous smirk tugged at your lips and you placed the folded towel on the edge of the bed, away from the door.

Then you heard the creak. “I will walk out naked if you don’t give me the towel,” Bucky threatened.

You shrugged despite him not being able to see you from your position on the bed, “I’ll just laugh at your dick,”

“You weren’t laughing earlier,” he shot back.

Oh. So he did remember. Good. You thought he’d gotten amnesia within the past few hours, maybe he was just too ashamed to mention it.

“Too disgusted to insult. Plus, I was playing a character,”

“Fine,” he responded and quickly came into view, haughtily sauntering over to your side and you shouted.

“Dear God!” You held the towel up to block your sight of his barren body. It was disgusting. He was all wet, hair dripping onto his muscled torso, water gleaming off his taut skin, 5 o’clock shadow drenched and straight out of a wet dream. Jesus.

“Prude,” he commented, snatching the towel from your grasp and wrapping it around himself.

“Respectable,” you corrected, crossing your arms and shoving him away. “You get the floor,”

He lifted his duffle off the ground and rummaged through it. “Then I get the blanket,”

“You get fuck all,” you stated, flipping off the lamp beside you and snuggling into the warm cot.

When the shuffling stopped and the bathroom light was shut off, you shut your eyes and let the wear of the day grab at you, lulling you into the beginning of slumber. That is, until the blanket was hauled from around you, damn near throwing you onto the floor. You shouted out and caught yourself last minute.

“Barnes!” You yelled, steadying yourself and reaching over the edge to grab the blanket back. Your hand fisted at the faux fur and you pulled with all your might to no avail.

He swatted you away as though you were a pesky fly and reached over to turn the light of the lamp on. You glowered at him and stood, wrapping the blanket around your arm and pulling upwards. Your arm strained to its capacity but the man on the floor didn’t budge. Only turned his back to you and shut his eyes. You reached over yourself and flipped the switch of the lamp, once again immersing yourself in the comforting darkness.

Bucky stiffened and opened his eyes then turned and froze you in your spot with his stare. He reached around and lit the lamp, slowly retracting his arm and daring you to turn it off again. So you did.

He yanked the blanket from your grasp and threw you back onto the bed, bringing light into the room. “Light stays on,” he growled.

“No! You’ve had your goddamn way since you stepped foot into this room. Light goes off and I get the blanket!” You shouted, not concerned about anyone else hearing considering the room was soundproof.

“No. You get the bed so I get the blanket. Tell me how that doesn’t make sense,” he countered.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting that it did, in fact, make sense. The floor here was wooden and clearly uncomfortable, plus he hadn’t even argued about the bed situation.

You retreated, “Fine, light still goes off,”

“No,”

“Yes,”

Silence fell between the two of you but you weren’t budging. Barnes had faced plenty of monsters, he could handle the dark.

“I need the noise to fall asleep,” he admitted and it was then you could hear the slight hum the bulb emitted.

You didn’t speak for a while but reared back and pulled out your phone, “What do you want to listen to?” You scrolled through a few sounds you had stored on your phone, “We’ve got: nature sounds, frequencies, guided meditations, etc. You name it, but I’m not sleeping with this forsaken light on,”

Bucky studied you, his expression changing a mile a minute but the one of indifference conquered, “Rain,”

You nodded once and selected the audio, placing the phone face up on the nightstand and turning the light off for the last time. Hopefully. You hunkered down into the thin mattress and reached down, grasping at the thick blanket. When you pulled, there was some give. He’d let you get just enough needed to cover your body if you laid at the very edge and your hand hovered in the air when you laid your arm over the side.

Minutes flew by with your eyes shut and the exhaustion slithered over your body but your mind ran wild with the events from earlier. You tried not to get angry or sad or . . . bothered. Your breathing deepened when you began to succumb to your body’s fatigue and you drifted inch by inch into the welcoming void lulling your name.

You didn’t hear when he shifted, only managed to register the faint tracing of his fingertips on your hand before finally giving out.

You weren’t sure what time it was when you opened your eyes for the first time that night. This regularly happened. You’d wake up multiple times during the night to shift positions or throw off the sheets, no matter how insignificant the desire, your body always found a way to wake you for it.

You opened your eyes slowly to a hazy vision and blinked at the sitting figure on the floor, “Bucky?” You croaked, bringing a hand up to wipe at your face, “What time is it?”

“It’s almost one, go back to sleep,”

“What are you doing?” You persisted, ignoring his demand and sitting up slowly, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Couldn’t,”

A heartbeat. Then another. And another. He didn’t care to elaborate.

“Do you want the bed?” You offered, stretching yourself out and already placing yourself down on the floor, “It’s too hot up there, anyway,”

His attention turned to you for the first time but you’d already began closing your eyes, not really having the energy to argue with him. You could hear shuffling from his spot and the ground disappeared below you, strong hands grasping your body and lifting you up to place you gently back onto the cot.

“I prefer the floor,” he insisted, wrapping the blanket around you, “Besides, you’re a horrendous liar,”

You didn’t hold back the singular chuckle, your haze still enveloping you. “Then why aren’t you sleeping?”

He sat at the foot of the bed, his hand hovering over your leg in hesitation, “It’s complicated.” He dropped his hand to his side.

“Isn’t the rain helping?” you mumbled, your sight now adjusting to the dark.

“Yes,”

“Then what?”

“I just . . . don’t want to wake you,”

“Well, I’m already awake if that makes you feel better,” you jeered, a small smile forming on your lips.

“It doesn’t,”

“Nothing does,” you retorted, the inevitable annoyance you always felt when conversing with him already made its way up into your tone.

He scoffed and stood from the bed, placing himself in the same spot on the floor with his head leaned up against the wall and his arm resting on his perched knee.

“Oh, so now you can’t handle a little attitude,” your tone came out incredulous, “You didn’t have any issues earlier when you blamed me for that guy’s escape. Which, he didn’t even get to do, might I add,”

“I was projecting,” he replied, gaze still focused on the door opposite to him.

You blinked, “Are you so tired that you’re actually admitting to being a dick?”

“I know I can be a dick, but you threw yourself straight into the line of fire twice today. So I don’t really give a shit if I was mean to you,”

“I only did that because you almost got shot twice today. Don’t take your anger out on me for your incompetence. Just say ‘thank you’ and move on already,”

“Incompetence?” His head jerked in your direction. “What was incompetent was that you couldn’t keep yourself composed,”

You sat up. “What in the hell are you talking about? My behavior is what got our target to basically give himself up to us! It was me that trapped him, not you!” His composure tensed and you crossed your arms over your chest, “You’re just mad your dick got hard so if anything you’re the one who couldn’t keep their compos-” His hand was wrapped around your throat and you were pinned to the mattress before you could finish your sentence.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed at you, his face mere inches from yours.

“Why?” You spoke hoarsely around his tightening grip, “Does the Big Bad Wolf not like that he was turned on? Who’s the prude now?”

“Turned on?” He spat, his free hand resting by your head to cage you in, “You think what you did earlier turned me on?”

You grasped at the hand around your throat and pried slightly to speak, “Fight me or fuck me, Barnes. But stop lying to yourself, it’s getting old,”

The room seemed to freeze over and Bucky paused. His hesitation was enough to elicit the fire from earlier and your legs squirmed a little underneath him. God, you hoped he chose the latter.

Then his lips crashed against yours.

You squeaked at the sudden onslaught but threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him in tighter against you. He dropped when you intertwined your legs, his full weight pressing against you deliciously. You ground up against him, your core aching from the previous hours and the small friction elicited a moan from the both of you.

“So impatient,” he scolded, bringing the hand from around your throat down to your hips and pressing you into the bed. “What a whore,”

His breath danced along your cheek and you mewled at his words. Gods, he was going to be the death of you. Or the beginning.

You breathed in deeply, his sandalwood scent intoxicating you in a manner that alcohol never could. When you drank, you were just drunk. But when you took a sip from the tall glass that was Bucky, it brought you to life. Your body sang melodies wherever you were plastered against each other and your skin burned with need.

Touch me, your body screamed, touch me.

“Fuck off,” you groaned and Bucky jerked your head to the side, exposing your neck for him to scavenge.

The goosebumps that danced across your skin when he ran his warm tongue up from the curve of your neck to the bottom of your ear brought an arrogant smirk onto Bucky’s face. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged when he reached a particularly sensitive spot that had your legs shaking when he kissed it sloppily.

Your mouth hung open in silent pleasure and your breaths were short and rapid, your body betraying all forms of control you previously had over yourself. The hand that wasn’t residing in his hair trailed down his muscled arm and you gripped at the brawn this man possessed. His skin reminisced lightly of silk despite the rough texture of his hands.

The same hands that now made its way into your hair and tugged at the strands at the base of your neck, jolting your chin higher into the air. Your grip tightened around his biceps and the strength they emitted sent a pool rushing to your core. You continued hunting until you found the hem of his black, cotton shirt and you made your way up his taut abdomen. You let out a sigh and he jumped lightly at the sensation of your cool fingertips across his scorching skin. It was a nice contrast for him.

You gripped at the shirt and hastily ripped the cotton upward. Bucky broke away from his descent down to your chest to let you remove the fabric and you’d suddenly wished you’d turned the lights on first. He mimicked your action and tossed your shirt in a deserted corner of the room to potentially be abandoned. You gasped when the cold air of the room grazed upon the perked mounds of your breasts.

His lips returned to their spot on the dip of your neck and his tongue slithered down in between your breasts. Your breath hitched when his wet muscle made its way up to the apex of your chest. His right hand mirrored his tongue and swirled around your nipple, his teeth pulling eagerly every so often and you hissed at the delectable pain. Your eyes devoured the scene unfolding on your chest and you reached over to flick the light on, desperate for a clearer image.

Bucky halted and his metal arm reached over to switch the light back off but you swatted his hand away and he backed up lightly, his irritation evident on his face.

“I want to watch,” you grumbled and shifted up to bring your lips back up to his. He let you. He pushed back lightly with his own lips and leaned in sync with your movements. He parted his mouth slightly and you followed suit, letting him lead his way into yours with the same muscle he’d just had flicking across your breasts.

The light went off.

You pushed him away and shot towards the switch but metal met your wrist firmly enough to keep you in place. “Bucky.” You wrestled against his hold and turned your full attention back to the figure hovering above, “I want to see you,”

Despite the darkness, you noticed his mouth twitch but his grip on your wrist remained solid. You sprawled back onto the bed and wrapped your free hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down onto you, pressing his surprisingly soft lips onto yours. You broke apart, his lips a hair’s breadth away from your own. “I want to see you,”

He didn’t move, only scanned your face over a few times and you brought him back down into a kiss. This one wasn’t like before. This one was warm, soft, patient. A ballet compared to its previous mosh pit. He danced along with you, an admission hidden somewhere in his tenderness.

You hadn’t realized you’d been freed of his hold until you were wrapping that arm over his shoulder and the sound of a light humming began.

“Fucker,” you jeered and the previous gentleness dissipated.

“Shut up,” he ordered, pinning you back onto the bed and resumed his ministration on your breasts.

The moan slipped past your lips at the sight and your chest heaved upwards, desperate for more stimulation. You licked your lips at how his mouth encased your nipple, his tongue flicking against the perked skin and you dropped your head back, shutting your eyes. You centered all of your attention anywhere that his bare skin touched your body and rubbed your aching clit against his v-line.

Your chest was pressed against the mattress before you could register what happened and the hard smack that met your ass evoked a yelp. Bucky pressed fully against your backside and he ground his dick down into your ass. He groaned at the sensation and you raised your ass onto him. You yelped again when Bucky ripped your leggings down and smacked the exposed skin on your ass.

“Try something like that again and I’ll gag you around my cock ‘til you’re crying,” he growled, “Understood?”

You nodded, wide-eyed and a mewling mess from the threatening promise of this God.

“Good girl,” he cooed, rubbing at the raw skin. “Now stay still for Daddy,”

Bucky’s hand lingered on your reddening ass and the mattress dipped when he shifted to your side. He traced gentle circles onto your backside and pressed his lips on your shoulder blade, the butterfly kisses making their way down towards your spine and then lower. Your breathing grew uneven from the sheer amount of restraint you displayed. Your grip on the edge of the bed tightened when his tongue dragged from the point where your thigh and ass met all the way up to the bottom of your spine.

“Fuck,” You shuddered, white-knuckling the blanket beneath you.

Your skin blazed when you were met with another harsh slap. You mewled at the sensation, loving the fire that spread across your flesh and relaxed when his metal hand cooled the area.

Then his teeth bit into the cooling flesh and you jerked away despite yourself. Bucky tsked lowly and you chuckled at the hint of fear sprouting in your chest; you did not want to see whatever sinister expression resided on his face.

A strong hand gripped the roots of your hair and hauled you up. You followed his direction and knelt onto the ground between Bucky’s sprawled out legs, settling in your new position.

“Oh, Doll,” he chastised, “you were so close,”

“That shouldn’t count,” you retorted while Bucky pulled the blanket off the bed and lifted you up with his metal arm, shoving the barrier between your knees and the hard ground.

“But it does.” His hands dove into his underwear and sprung his cock out onto your lips. “Now get to work,”

Your eyes widened at the sight before you and you had to physically hold back from gulping. You were ashamed to admit your mouth watered in anticipation. You lifted your hands from his sculpted thighs and wrapped them around his length, enveloping just the tip past your parted lips. Bucky sighed and twitched in your mouth.

You welcomed him in fully, or as much as you could anyway, and got straight to work, not bothering to act abashed at your desire. Your tongue swirled around his tip and you leaned into him until he hit the back of your mouth but you continued on, gagging around him when he’d gotten inside your throat. Bucky groaned when your throat tightened around him and he threw his head back, using his flesh hand to guide you up and down his shaft, showing you what he liked and didn’t.

“Fuck, Doll,” he groaned, “Just how I imagined your mouth would feel,”

You pulled off him to comment when he shoved you all the way down to the hilt and you threw your hands up onto his thighs to hold yourself back. He used his metal arm to hold himself up and thrusted up into your salivating mouth desperately. He continuously hit the back of your throat and thick saliva coated his cock. Just as he promised, tears prickled at the corners of your eyes and he didn’t stop until your cheeks were drenched in the liquid.

You let your jaw hang open, your tongue no longer swiveling around meticulous spots that you knew would make his legs buckle. No, you let him have the reigns. Let him fuck your mouth ‘til your throat grew bruised and jaw ached with fatigue. You committed his cries of pleasure to memory, the sounds euphoric to your ears.

He lifted his head and stared down at you with half-closed eyes. He was in heaven and you knew it. He watched you, how the tears trailed down, how your hands gripped at his thighs, how you stuck out your tongue just as you’d made it to the base of his cock to lick his balls in the most intoxicating way. Fuck. You were the intoxicating one. You brought out this side of him. This carnal desire that became him until he’d had to step out of the room just to compose himself. And he didn’t like being out of control. That’s why he always kept you at an arm’s distance.

But now, watching as you sat between him with your mouth agape like the good girl that you were for him, he knew he’d never deny himself this pleasure again. Especially since you were so fucking good at it.

He groaned, pulling you off his cock and grabbed tightly at your cheeks, nearly pinching your mouth together. “Tongue out.” He growled, waiting for your compliance.

Your jaw ached with exhaustion but you managed to stick out the wet muscle as he pulled you closer into him and watched when he parted his lips above you, letting the saliva trail down from his mouth into yours.

“Swallow,” he ordered.

But it was already done, and you left your mouth hanging open for more.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky grumbled, putting his face right up against yours and feeding you once again; this time with a sloppy kiss that coated both your mouths in saliva.

He brought you up from the floor and tossed you onto the bed before settling between your legs. The excitement in your eyes grew and he indulged in every minute of it. Bucky’s hand trailed down from your lower abdomen right above your pubic bone and pressed his palm into your neglected clit. The cry you let out was the unholiest thing he’d ever heard.

He slid his finger under the waistband of your underwear and flitted his gaze back up to your eyes, “Can I?”

You nodded eagerly, dumbfounded that he would even ask and fought the temptation to grab your phone from the nightstand and record everything that was about to unfold.

At the first nod, Bucky slid your underwear down your legs and made a show of bringing the material up to his face. Your own went red hot and you hid behind your hands, poking through every millisecond to shamefully watch. He threw the panties into his open duffel and you squirmed in anticipation.

“Remember the rules?” Bucky asked, brow lifted and already descending to your inner thigh.

You nodded again.

“I need to hear it, Doll,” he mumbled, kissing the inner part of your thigh, each placement closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Yes,” you whimpered out, “I remember the rules,”

Bucky wanted to dive right in, he really did, but the way you sprawled yourself out so vulnerable for him, it incited a new pace that he wanted to follow. So, he did. He looked at you for a few moments, watched how the anticipation danced in your eyes, how your legs shook in wait and how you were already so goddamn wet for him.

“This all for me?” he teased, mesmerized at your desire for him.

You dropped a hand down to your side, near where his hands were wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place - and against his face. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your answer.

You nodded sheepishly and when he lifted an eyebrow in mock confusion you said, “You. Just you,”

Like music to his ears. Just him. You weren’t for anyone else. He thought he felt his heart palpitate.

He lowered himself down to your core and kissed your lip, drawing a desperate plea from you. You couldn’t wait anymore, couldn’t deal with the teasing. You were wet enough, needy enough, ready enough to take him, all of him. You’d been ready damn near the moment you first laid eyes on his arrogant smirk.

“Buck - please,” you cried, drawling out the final word.

The first kiss placed upon your soaked cunt erupted a sigh of relief and you laid back on the pillow, your eyes closed and mind gone with the sensation of those sloppy kisses blessing your needs. He flattened his tongue on your lips and licked upwards, stopping when your hips twitched into his mouth.

“Sorry!” You apologized, fighting the desire to grind into his wet muscle. He’d just gotten started and you certainly didn’t want it to end so soon.

He lifted his gaze up to you and you bit into your fist at the view, using the extremity to hold back your moans. He flicked his attention down again and repeated his motion, lapping at your fluids ‘til his beard was soaked in it. He shook his head into your cunt and his nose rubbed along your clit. The mewling that left your mouth urged him on and when you felt his muscle prodding at your entrance you threw your head back.

“Please, Bucky.” You begged, bringing a hand up to tease your nipple.

He prodded some more, his tongue gliding up from your clit and back down to your entrance, poking through enough to frustrate you. He wanted you to break for him. To lose all composure and control and just let him. He wanted you to submit to him but it wasn’t just that, it was more that he wanted to destroy you for any future experience you may have without him. He wanted you to come back to him, to need him, to beg for him and leave you with the understanding that nothing - no one - could compare to him. He wanted you. To himself.

So, when he could no longer refrain and had to use his metal arm to hold your hips down from squirming beneath him, he slipped two thick, rough fingers into your begging cunt. And the sound you emitted caused that carnal instinct to claw at the barriers caging it in.

Your hand shot down, tangling itself into his hair and pushing him harder against you. He allowed it. Your thighs held him in place, crushing him with your soft skin and he groaned at the warmth you gave off. You pulled your hand away from your mouth and grabbed at his metal one resting on your pubic bone, pulling it up to your chest and wrapping his fingers on the sensitive bud for him to tease. He slowly retracted from your chest and brought it back down onto your hips and you huffed in annoyance. You looked down at Bucky but his eyes were shut, completely engrossed in the feast before him. You bucked when his fingers glazed across that sensitive spot inside your velvety walls.

“There!” You cried, your fist tightening in his hair when the all-too-familiar wave of ecstasy began to pool together, waiting for its release.

Bucky complied, dragging the pads of his fingers up against that spot over and over again. Your legs caged him in tighter as his tongue swirled over the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves and you cried out at the way your body tensed.

“Fuck,” you cried, your hands desperately grasping onto Bucky’s metal wrist and tugging at the roots of his hair. Bucky’s groan of pleasure was what tipped you over the edge.

You gasped when the pool building released, your body shaking with euphoria and the flood crashed down onto you. And apparently, onto Bucky as well. He pulled his mouth away but continued rubbing at your clit when warm liquid squirted onto his face and his expression of surprise mirrored your own.

When Bucky looked up at you, your face burned with embarrassment and you threw your head back, using your hand to cover your countenance. Not to mention the sight of him with your juices all over his mouth was one of the hottest things you’d ever witnessed.

Bucky chuckled at your sheepish apology and removed your hand from your face, bringing his soaked mouth up to yours and having you taste yourself. You devoured each other, your arms wrapped tightly around the other, pulling so fiercely at the innate desire to become one in shared pleasure. He could feel his pride swell at your hidden confession. You’d never squirted before and he was lucky enough to be the one to give you that experience for the first time.

You clawed at him, divulging in the warmth his body radiated and intoxicating yourself in everything that was Bucky. You couldn’t get enough of it, of him. It was nearly too much.

His hand trailed up to your gaping mouth and he inserted his fingers, “Clean them,” he ordered.

Your hand gripped his wrist and pulled his fingers deeper into your mouth, never breaking eye contact with him, loving the way he ate up everything he was seeing. You noticed the way he swallowed.

He retracted his hand and wrapped it gently behind your head so you were resting on him. He brought his full weight down onto your body and a warmth emanated in your chest when he brought his lips up against your forehead, each kiss closer and closer to your lips until they met their destination. When you parted your mouth against his, it wasn’t merely an action of carnal desire, it was like you were exchanging life forces. Merging and meeting in a manner that had your body exploding and crying out for more of the faint familiarity. Like seeing an old friend for the first time in years.

Bucky looked down between your bodies at where you were about to connect before staring back up at you, taking you in as if he would never have this opportunity again. His thumb brushed your cheek and came to a rest on your bottom lip. “Ready?”

You chuckled, “Fuck me,”

He shoved inside in one clean motion and a breath of pleasure slid past both of your lips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand tightening slightly around your neck and he pulled out slowly then shot back inside and you moaned.

You were still so sensitive from your previous climax that every brush against your clit sent you into a whirlwind of pleasure, the sensations shooting through every nerve in your body.

“Bucky,” you whined when his pace quickened and the sheer force of his thrusts drove you deeper into euphoria.

He filled you just right, his girth and length impressive and you wondered why you hadn’t tried to screw him earlier. He slid past your tight walls, each thrust causing the room to echo with the sounds of skin slapping and moans of ecstasy.

He kept his actions controlled, not wanting to build up to something so intense just for it to fall short and end fast. No. Despite how good you felt wrapped around his aching and swollen cock, despite how warm and welcoming you were, how you spread yourself out for him to consume, he had to leash himself. This was going to be just as good for you as it was for him.

He kissed you one last time before gripping the back of your knees and bringing your thighs up to your chest, a shout of praise falling off your lips. He was drunk on the sight of his cock going in and out of your cunt and he threw his head back with a groan.

“What a fucking pretty pussy,” he breathed out and you whimpered, biting your lip at the welcome profanities.

At this angle, he was fucking against your g-spot and using his pubic bone to rub against your clit and watching the thin layer of sweat sheen off his skin was all too much to keep yourself put together. His eyebrows scrunched together and you caught him taking in your form, watching how your pleasure displayed itself on your face for him to bear witness to. Only him.

He growled at the intrusion of thoughts that came to him. He pictured someone else in his position, someone else witnessing you so vulnerable and open to them, someone else fucking you and making you beg for them. It disgusted him. He brought his torso down and latched his teeth to your neck, biting down hard enough to have you tearing up.

“Mine,” he growled into your ear and lulled his head forward when you tightened around him.

A sinister smirk came to his face and he licked the shell of your ear, your breathy moans feeding him, “You like that?” He asked, pistoling further into your cunt and you shouted at the increase of pace, “You like when I tell you who you belong to?”

Your mouth hung agape and the one arm wrapped around his shoulder pulled him closer to you, your desperation for his warmth taking control. “Fuck . . . off,” you hissed between breaths.

He pulled out and yanked you up by your hair, twisting you around and pressing your torso into the wall but keeping your ass propped up for him to admire. You hissed at the pain when a sharp smack met your ass and your hands gripped at the wall for any way to ground yourself and prevent from becoming putty in his hands.

Another hard smack met your ass and you lurched forward to get away from the sting. Bucky kept your head pinned to the cement, his hand holding your cheek from scraping the wall but applying a pressure that had your tongue lolling out of your mouth.

You moaned at the intrusion in your pussy and he plummeted in and out, a mix of your grunts and groans bouncing around the room. His pace constantly changed. One second it was fast, the next it was slow but filling, going so far as to hit your cervix a few times and leave you a crying mess under his hold. Your shoulder scraped along the wall and you fought to push away only to have your chest slammed harder against the cement.

You brought a hand out, reaching behind yourself and grasping for Bucky’s hip, pushing him deeper into you when he slowed. Your nails dug into his flesh and the sound of his hiss shot straight to your core.

“What a goddamn whore,” he spat, bringing his teeth down onto your neck and you gripped at his hair.

You laughed at his statement, “You’re the one that can’t get enough of this pussy. Why so desperate to claim it? Afraid I'll fuck someone else?” Bucky pulled you back and slammed you against the wall with vigor, causing you to flinch

He stopped his thrusts altogether, “My patience only goes so far, Doll,” he threatened, tugging at your hair and you bit back a cry, “Choose your words wisely,”

You nodded hastily, the rough texture of the wall digging into your cheek and splitting skin. You wriggled up against him to continue moving but he retracted completely and flipped you over so he was laying on the bed and you were straddling him.

“Move,” he ordered, his hands digging bruises into your waist.

You leaned over, pressing your chest against his to lift your hips up and down on him but he pushed you back up and held your arms behind your back to keep you in place. You whimpered but the cry quieted when you rubbed your clit against him and your pussy clenched at the friction. You moaned out a breathy fuck and swiveled your hips around his, noting how much deeper he filled you in this position.

“Buck-” you huffed, eyes glued to the glistening abs beneath you. “I’m gonna cum,”

“Already?” He jeered, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

You’d lost all energy to sneer at him, your focus solely on how the sensation grew and began pooling in your cunt. “Cock . . . so good,” you breathed out, barely able to keep yourself from melting into him.

“What was that, Doll?” He stilled your movements and you groaned in annoyance.

You wriggled in his hold and you could tell by the furrow of his brow that he was fighting to keep control as well. You leaned over him, your lips hovering over his, “Mine,”

His grip flew to the back of your neck and he crashed your lips onto his, giving you full reign again. You bounced your hips on his dick, slamming down vigorously and rubbing your clit in effect. It didn’t take long for your climax to build again.

“’M gonna . . .” you whispered and Bucky placed you back up, gripping your hips and swiveling you around how you were earlier.

“Cum, Doll,” he allowed, “Cum all over this cock,”

You cried out, your toes curling as the dam in your core snapped and your climax washed over you. You hadn’t realized your fingers were intertwined with Bucky's until you came back down from your high, your chest heaving for breath.

He sat up slowly and pressed his lips against your neck. “You’re beautiful,”

Your body tensed at his words and you pulled away to give him a look of confusion. But he didn’t take his statement back, only slipped his hands around your back and gently placed you onto the bed, hovering over you.

He moved with caution, like his gentleness might scare you off if he touched you too tenderly or stared too long in admiration. But he couldn’t help it, he did admire you.

He spread your legs open and nestled between them, pushing into you slowly until your hips met and you both breathed out. His movements weren’t nearly as brutal as they were earlier, these thrusts were slow and deep and full of intention. He brought his torso down onto yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer to you.

He ran his hand, the only one he allowed himself to touch you affectionately with, through your hair and stared down at you, waiting. His gaze shifted between your lips to your eyes and he ran his thumb delicately along your mouth.

You looked at him then, really looked at him with fresh eyes and your heart leapt into your throat at the realization. “Kiss me,” you whispered and he lowered himself onto your lips, setting off an explosion in your chest.

“I’m yours,” he whispered, not able to bring himself to look at you, “I’ve been yours,”

You opened your mouth to respond but he silenced you with a deep thrust and a moan erupted instead. He quickened his pace, watching where you connected and pushed deeper and harder, your cries of pleasure driving him. He had to fuck you, he couldn’t love you, he couldn’t make love to you, just fuck. That’s it. He couldn’t allow himself to replay your look of shock at his confession, though the scene would surely be on loop for the next few days until he could get over it. Just fuck. Nothing more. Not with that look of disbelief on your face.

He held himself up with his forearms but you pressed him against you and wrapped your legs tighter around him. “Harder,” you whispered and he complied.

He groaned when your tits bounced and brought his mouth to a nipple, the faint taste of sweat lingering on your skin. You brought his metal hand up to your chest and made him grip the flesh there but he pulled it back and placed it beside your head instead.

“Bucky,” you whimpered and grabbed his hand again, bringing his open palm up to your lips and placing delicate kisses on the metal. “You can feel with it, right?”

He nodded, hesitance sprawled on his face.

“Then touch me,” you urged, bringing the hand down between your bodies and pressing the cold metal against your clit, “Feel me,”

His brows furrowed slightly but the look of your certainty forced him to dismiss his own perceptions of his body; or rather, that arm. And when he began rubbing circles into your bundle of nerves the expression on your face made him hate it a little less. Only a little.

You stared up at him, his pace growing erratic and sloppy and you knew he was close. “You wanna cum?”

He nodded, his hot breath coming out haggard and strained. You placed your hand on his cheek and brought him up to your kiss.

“Then cum,”

He shook his head, “You first,” he swirled his finger around your swollen clit and you gasped at the force of his thrust.

Your body tensed and you centered all your focus on his ministrations, “A little more pressure,” you directed and he quickly found a pressure that had you wobbling in the knees. “Close,” you murmured, gripping Bucky’s side and bringing your lips up to his neck to pepper the skin there.

He groaned and judging by the way his dick twitched inside you, you knew he wasn’t far behind.

“Bucky,” you whispered, pulling his attention towards you and his gaze brought you closer to the edge, “I’m yours,”

He blinked and his pace faltered for half a beat. He examined your facial expression, like he didn’t believe the words you’d spoken. Not like he couldn’t believe them, but like you’d said them just to appease him.

You placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to center yourself in the haze of this fucking. “Yours,” you repeated, all the emotion residing in your chest poured into the singular word.

And then he was back to drilling you into the mattress, a new vigor fueling his thrusts. You cried out and Bucky pressed his sweaty torso flat against your own and it felt like the essence, the being, in your chest intermingled with his own and all the climaxes you’d previously experienced couldn’t hold a match to the flame, the intensity, the rawness of the one that washed over the both of you in that moment.

Bucky moaned out, his hips bucking into yours and you rode out both of your highs. The sensation consuming and overwhelming and welcome on both ends as it flooded through your bodies, meeting at your point of contact.

His arms flexed above you with the ferocity of his climax and the display had you writhing beneath him, already desperate for more.

“Buck,” you whispered when his breathing evened out after he collapsed onto you.

He didn’t respond, afraid it had all been a dream, a trick, despite still being inside you. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to shatter the perfection of this moment. What if you’d only said that to get him to finish faster? What if you’d only fed him what he wanted to hear? What if-

“Buck,” you repeated, pulling him from his daze and he lifted his head only slightly. You gripped his chin lightly and forced him to look you in the eye. “You’re . . . mine?”

He wanted to shake his head, to tell you that he got caught up in the moment but instead he said, “Yours,” because he knew anything else would be a lie and he was tired of lying.

You studied him and nodded, “Yours,” you stated, already rolling your eyes from the smirk forming on his face, “Unfortunately,”

He brought your face to his and planted a tender kiss on your lips. He started shifting his position and grabbed the underwear he’d been wearing earlier before pulling out and using the cloth to clean the mess pooling out of you. But not before taking a mental picture, of course.

After a few minutes of laying together, his hand playing with a few strands of hair, you felt the warm welcome of sleep beginning to drag you into its embrace. You opened your eyes groggily and looked up at Bucky who was already looking down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I know about your night terrors,” you whispered and his actions halted momentarily before returning to brush through your hair, “I hear you sometimes. And I understand why you don’t want to go to sleep but,” you sat up slowly and placed the thick blanket down on the floor, dragging the pillow down with you and patting the open space beside you, “you should rest. I’ll be here to calm you or stay up with you. Whichever one you need,”

He didn’t move at first, his ears drowning out any thought he could have while processing what you’d said. He’d stayed silent so long you’d thought you’d crossed a line.

“I can always sleep on the bed if you’d prefer, though,”

Bucky shook himself from his thoughts and edged closer to the floor, slowly descending into the available space and wrapping the blanket around the both of you as much as he could. “No,” he said, “I want you here,”

You hummed in response and snuggled into his waiting arms, lightly wrapping your own around him, making sure to kiss the part of himself he hated the most before fatigue swept you up into its clutches. Bucky followed soon after.

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timid-orchid · 2 years

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Disastrous Wedding: Part 3/3

Summary: you have to attend your sister’s wedding and things go wrong, as usual...

Warning: Unwanted touching (nothing explicit), unedited (sorry for any errors)

Word count: 7,267

“You know, if I had to choose between eating an entire jean jacket or being your sibling, I’d choose the jacket.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“It means you’re infuriating to be related to. You’re so selfish, you couldn’t even remember when I told you earlier that I did ask him nicely to stop!”

“Then you shouldn’t have said anything about it! You could’ve just kept your damn mouth shut and-“

“And let him touch me?!” You yelled, shocked at what your sister was saying.

“Yes! It’s my wedding, goddammit!” She stomped her foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “It’s my day, it shouldn’t be about you!”

You were silent for a long while after that. Flabbergasted that she would say such a thing, although you shouldn’t be, she’s always been selfish.

But you had hoped she would be on your side someday.

‘Oh, I see now. My hope in her was the joke.’

You had hoped.

But not anymore.

You had to take a step back, her words piercing your chest.

'Why am I so surprised? I knew this was how she is.'

'Because she's family, so it stings just a bit more than it would were she a stranger.'

"You make everything about you, you haven't changed these past nine years." She snarled, staring daggers at you.

You scoffed. "I do believe you're projecting a bit, dear sister. As You said earlier: it's your wedding; your day."

"And you're trying to take it from me!" She stomped her foot again. "You can't let me have one day-"

"What are you talking about? I just wanted to get through your wedding with my sanity intact."

"Then tell me why it had to be today. Why you had to make a big deal today."

"Are you serious? I didn't plan for this to happen today, or ever, for that matter."

"Oh, yeah. Sure." She crossed her arms over her chest.

Your head started pounding, dealing with your sister always left you with a nasty headache.

'Why does she have to be so difficult all the time?'

'She is our parents' daughter...'

'True...'

"Why would I plan for some stranger to put his hands on me?"

"As I said before: you wanted the attention on you today. I don't know why, but you won't succeed."

You threw your hands up in frustration. "You caught me! My evil plan has been foiled, now what am I left to do?"

"I'm being serious!"

"I know you are, and I don't know if I should feel sorry for you or-"

There was a knock on the door.

"They're waiting on you two to return so they can continue the speeches.” Your mother’s voice came from the other side. “We don’t have all day, so finish your discussion quickly.”

You sighed, not wanting to deal with this event any longer, especially if you're going to be accused of something you didn't even plan.

Who would plan something so stupid anyway?

If you really wanted to disrupt the wedding and get the attention of the guests then you would’ve shown up with Molotov cocktails…

That plan sounded more fun anyways.

'How annoying.'

'We could fake our death...'

'Doesn't sound half bad right now...'

"We'll be right there, mother." Your sister said, turning to you. "Be on your best behavior and try to keep your mouth shut."

She straightened her dress, "it's my day...it's my day..."

She mumbled that to herself on your walk back into the reception hall.

You caught Eric grinning ear to ear at you when you returned to your seat, making you shudder in disgust.

"What are you doing?" You asked him.

"What do you mean?"

You pointed at him, "that...thing you're doing with your face."

He tilted his head, confused.

"The thing with your face that makes you look happy...cut it out, it's making me feel nauseated."

The confused look was replaced with an angry one. "Your mouth is-"

"Gonna get me in trouble, yadda yadda." You waved him off.

He blew air out of his flared nostrils. "Watch it, you-"

"Let me take a wild guess...I won't like you when you're angry?"

"You're insufferable, you know that, right?"

You smiled, remembering the time you called Leon the same thing. "I learned from the best."

Your eyes sought Leon out, finding him a few minutes later. He had a worried look on his face, probably wondering why your sister dragged you out of the room. Nodding your head at him, you mouthed "I'm fine."

He nodded in return, smiling in relief.

He was probably going to go look for you if you hadn't come back when you did. He's always been protective of you. Not in an overbearing way, he always wanted you to fight your own battles, glad to support you from the sidelines. But if you were ever in any real danger then he would be at your side as quickly as he could, ready to kick ass.

You squirmed in your seat a little, thinking about Leon always had that effect on you. There was something about him...

'That turned you into a dick sucking whore?'

'Only Leon's whore though...'

'We're on the same page for once.'

'It's kind of scary.'

You felt eyes burning into the side of your face, you looked over at your sister.

"Have I done something already?" You asked sarcastically, feigning confusion.

Your stomach started aching, but you decided to ignore it.

You’d ache too if you had to deal with your sister more than you have.

"I told you that Eric is Brandon's best friend and the best man, you need to be on your best behavior. Keep your comments to yourself and be nice."

"I would rather take a bath with my toaster-"

"Y/N. behave."

'Remind me to steal all her charging blocks from her house.'

'Take her tv remote too.'

'Noted.'

"Alright, everyone. It's time for the parents of the groom to give their speech, then we'll move onto the maid of honor and the best man."

You froze.

‘The what now?’

Then you quickly spun to face your sister, panic clearly written on your face.

"I have to give a speech?" You asked, voice shaking. Your stomach was in your throat now.

Your sister gave you a mean smile, "yeah, did I forget to mention that?"

You narrowed your eyes; it was obvious now. She knew that you hated public speaking ever since you were a kid. Your parents made you give a speech at your aunt's funeral when you were eight. You barely knew your aunt, she was always in another state with her husband, living as hard as they could. Then one day she was diagnosed with lung cancer, years of smoking cigarettes not helping her case.

The funeral had a lot of people, mostly distant family members that you've never met before. Your mother had expected you and your sister to give individual speeches in your aunt's honor, although you begged her not to make you.

She did.

Your sister went before you. She had just turned eleven years old, her speech clear and concise. Going on and on about having ‘quality time’ with your aunt that obviously didn't happen, she just wanted everyone to think she was closer to your aunt than she really was.

Your mother nodded at you to step up to the podium once your sister was done.

You stood up, visibly shaking as you made your way to the step stool behind the podium. You tried so hard not to stare at everyone's eyes, having learned to imagine the audience as potatoes to help ease your nerves. You only got a few strangled words out before you lost consciousness.

Once you woke up, you noticed you had been brought back to the car you arrived in, vomit staining the front of your dress.

"I can't believe you did that!" Your sister was laughing in your face, holding no sympathy for you.

"What did I do?" You asked her, clearly confused.

"You mean you don't remember?" She started laughing harder. "You said 'hello', then threw up on our grandma!"

Heat gathered to your face, embarrassment making your stomach turn in circles.

"Then you fainted and hit your head on the podium! Oh, I hope they got that on camera!" Her laughs turned into guttural cries, "I can't breathe, I can't breathe!"

Your face was still burning when your parents entered the car, your father staring daggers at you.

"You have embarrassed us once more, Y/N." Your mother gritted out, sitting in the passenger seat.

"I didn't mean to, mother, I-"

You were too busy looking down, you didn't notice how your mother quickly turned in her seat to reach back and slap you across your face.

"Save your apologies." She straightened back in her seat as your father started driving. "Honestly, Y/N, why can't you be like your sister? Her speech was divine."

Your sister beamed, "thank you mother."

You haven't given a speech ever since that day, your fear of public speaking was still as present as it was back then.

"It'll be just like Aunt Cathy's funeral. You do remember that, don't you, Y/N?" Your sister smiled sweetly at you. Her fake sweetness brought back memories from when you both were kids. She would act so kind to you, so sweet and innocent. She definitely had you fooled at the time, because behind that fake façade of sweetness lies a selfish, bitter center.

But you weren’t kids anymore.

You knew she was setting you up to embarrass yourself in front of all these people. Why? Probably to make herself look like the better child, the more refined adult that your parents always wanted. She was elegant and well spoken.

And you couldn’t even give a speech.

'Is it bad luck to strangle the bride on her wedding day?'

'No, I think it would be poetic.'

"Excuse me for a moment, I'm going to run to the restroom." You told her.

"Don't take too long, you're up next."

You didn't even push your chair in after standing up, you just briskly walked to the women's restroom, heading straight for the sink. Splashing water on your face as you tried to take deep breaths.

'Don't pass out, your sister would love for you to embarrass yourself so she doesn’t have to lift a finger.'

'What the hell am I going to do?'

'Do you want to try and fake your death now?'

'With how fast my heart rate is, I don't think I'll have to fake it.'

Your chest was hurting, pressure from your racing heart making it hard to breathe. You could hear your blood in your ears, making you nauseated. Your head started to feel light, everything moving slowly around you, like you were stuck in slow motion.

'Get it together, Y/N, at this rate you're going to faint.'

You didn't even have a rebuttal for your thoughts, trying not to drown in your panic.

But you were drowning.

You didn't even hear the bathroom door open.

You had your eyes closed until you felt arms wrapped around you, a distant voice calling your name. The person pulled you into their strong chest and you easily curled your fingers into their shirt, not caring that you would wrinkle the delicate fabric.

A hand started rubbing circles against your back, deep breathing in your ear.

"That's it, Y/N. Deep breaths." They said.

You followed their instructions until your breaths matched theirs, your head starting to feel normal again. Your feeling much lighter than before.

"That's my good girl, you're doing great."

You opened your eyes, head craning up to look at the person holding you.

Leon.

"How are you feeling now?" He asked, worry evident in his tone.

"So much better." You murmured, "but how did you-"

"I saw you jump up in a panic, half-walking half-jogging out of the reception hall. So, I was worried and wanted to check on you." He kissed your head, "what made you have an attack?"

You smiled and tightened your grip around his torso, you really were an open book to him.

"My sister just informed me that I would be giving a speech."

"Even after last time?"

You had told Leon about your embarrassing failure of a speech on your second date together, trying to out embarrass each other. He was winning until you told him that you threw up on your grandmother and fainted. You were worried when he went silent, scared that he would never want to see you again. Then he asked you if everything turned out okay, and if you were okay after the traumatic event.

He was the first one to ask you if you were okay about what happened. No one else cared enough to worry what you had thought, how you had felt, how it affected you in the long run.

You were so touched by his question that you started crying. He immediately pulled you out of the restaurant you two were in and took you to his apartment, cuddling you the rest of the night while you clung onto him like a koala to a tree.

You woke the next morning extremely embarrassed, but you explained why you had cried. He smiled at you, rubbing your back and kissing your cheeks.

"You had me worried for a minute there, sweetheart. I thought I said something stupid."

He stuck with you through everything, listened to your life's stories, hugged you when you were overwhelmed, took care of you when you got sick, making you laugh when you felt like crying, cheered you on through college, supported you when you interviewed for your dream job, inspired you to create art again, motivated you to achieve your goals, listened to you when you told him your deepest fears, celebrated when you got a job in your dream career.

He really was the best thing to happen to you.

He never tried to baby you or belittle you. He wanted you to succeed by your own merit and wanted you to celebrate those accomplishments. He wanted you to live loud and love your life. He wanted to support you through everything that came your way. He wanted to love you and be yours until the end.

And you wanted to do the same for him.

You pulled his face closer to yours, kissing him. He deepened the kiss, pushing past your lips to battle your tongue for dominance. His grip on your arms tightened and you were sure there will be bruises on them tomorrow.

But you didn’t mind.

You loved it when he left marks.

He stepped away from you after you moaned into the kiss.

"If we keep that up then you won't be able to make your speech."

"Can't give a speech if my mouth is too busy with something else." You teased him.

He groaned, pulling you close again to put his forehead against yours, breathing heavily.

"The things you do to me..."

You sighed, bring his hands up to your mouth to kiss each knuckle with tender love.

"Are you going to go through with it?" He asked, looking into your eyes.

"I guess I have to, don't want to embarrass myself in front of all these people."

"If you want, I can go up with you and be your support."

Your eyes widened, heart skipping a beat.

"You'd do that for me?" You asked, astonished.

"Of course. I would do anything to help you, Y/N, you know that."

The smile he gave you made you feel so safe, so loved.

Then you remembered: you could go through anything with Leon by your side.

You couldn't hold back the dazzling smile you gave him, heart feeling lighter than when you had first entered this restroom.

"Thank you so much, Leon."

You stood on your tippy toes, giving him a loving kiss, putting all your affection in the gesture.

You finally pulled away, grabbing his hand. "We better go before my sister goes on a manhunt for me."

He nodded as you pulled him out of the restroom and back into the reception hall. You both stood at the back of the room, not too far away from your sister.

"Thank you both for your beautiful speeches." The announcer clapped the backs of the groom's parents as they walked off the stage. "Now, we need the maid of honor to come give her speech."

Your chest tightened when you saw people looking around for you, eyes finding you instantly. Your breathing starting to become shallow and panicked once again.

You felt the hand you were holding tighten around yours, grounding you.

Looking at Leon, you took a deep breath, reminding yourself that you weren't going to be alone.

He would be there with you.

By your side.

Like he always was.

And you would be damned before you let your sister embarrass you.

The short walk to the stage gave you plenty of time to think of what you were going to say. You took extra care to be mindful of where you were stepping and how you stepped, not wanting to fall. You were pulling Leon with you by your linked hands, gripping tighter when you finally stood on stage.

You walked up to the microphone, Leon at your side. The audience chuckled as you lowered the stand to your height.

Taking a deep breath and looking around the room, you tried to feign calmness.

‘Fake it ‘til you make it, right?’

"Family, friends, thank you so much for coming, I know I speak for us all when I say that today is such a wonderful day for a wedding." You started, putting a sweet smile on that matched your sister’s. You had plenty of time to learn how to fake a smile while growing up.

You swear the microphone could pick up the sound of your beating heart. Your voice would falter every once in a while, but you sounded clear regardless.

And that’s all that mattered.

"To be honest, I didn't think my sister would ever get married. I didn't think any man would be good enough for my sister, but I was wrong."

"Brandon, when you came into my sister's life, you changed it for the better, the best even."

You had no idea, of course. Not having contact with your sister at the time she and Brandon started dating, but the audience didn't need to know that.

"She smiles so brightly now that you're in her life. And I've seen how she makes you feel, you've been smiling all day."

You looked at your sister, she was smiling at you, but you could tell it was as real as yours.

'She was hoping I'd make a fool of myself.'

‘Probably betting on it, actually.’

Leon let go of your hand, surprising you momentarily before he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him, fingers massaging your side as you released a deep breath, stomach in knots.

"I'm so happy for you both. Glad that you were able to find each other in this world. And I'm glad we get to celebrate you both today, as you join as man and wife. May you have many long, happy years of marriage ahead."

The room erupted in polite cheers, like after every other speech that was given today. Leon tugged on your hand, pulling you off the stage.

He walked you over to your seat, leaning into your ear after you sat down.

"You did amazing, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you."

You smiled up at him, "thank you."

He reluctantly let go of your hand, walking back to his seat.

"That was beautiful, I didn't know you had it in you." Your sister muttered, annoyed.

"Thank you."

You didn't want to deal with her right now, your heart still reeling from Leon's words.

Eric's speech was next, but you didn't pay any attention to him.

You were too busy biting your lip, thinking about Leon, when you started to feel uncomfortably hot.

Your breathing shallowed, coming in quick bursts as you looked down to your trembling hands in confusion.

‘I thought I did a pretty good job, so why is my body acting like this?’

Beads of sweat gathered on your forehead as you swiped at them, the pressure in your chest returning.

It didn’t make sense to you. It was mid-autumn; the days didn't get above 80 degrees. You never really had a problem with heat, being cold natured made you love the warmth that summer would bring. You and heat got along together like old friends, reuniting after being apart for half the year.

So why were you burning up?

'What the hell is going on?'

'Your guess is as good as mine.'

You excused yourself to the restroom once more, not able to walk straight anymore. You shook your head, immediately regretting it when the world started spinning and you had to hold onto the wall for support.

'I think I'm going to be sick.'

You used the wall to guide you to the restroom, heading to the sink to splash water on your face, just like earlier. You looked up at your reflection as it stared back. Your reflection began shifting slightly as you looked into your eyes, eyes that stared back at you in confusion and worry.

'Did I hit my head or something?'

'Not that I can recall.'

You were getting tired, needing to rest. Leaving the bathroom, you headed toward one of the other doors, there were more empty rooms in this hall, and you didn't care which one you went to, as long as it had something you can sit on.

'I guess Leon's face isn't an option...'

'Not exactly the time.'

You went through the second door down from the restroom, closing it as you looked around, spotting a couch in the middle of the room.

You staggered over to it, sweat running down from your hairline to your neck. You were almost to the couch when you were suddenly on the floor, even more confused.

You looked back and saw a short coffee table that stood in front of the couch, you didn't even notice it on your way in. You scooted yourself back until your back rested against the bottom of the couch, resting your head back onto the seat of it.

'What am I going to do?'

'Rest for the moment, then see if you can find Leon.'

You nodded to yourself.

'Yeah, he should know what to do.'

Your breathing stayed shallow regardless of the deep breaths you tried to take, heart pounding in your ears.

'I should've kept my phone on me, then I could just call him.'

'It's in one of these rooms, right?'

'Yeah...'

You had set your belongings down in the spare room you got ready in when you arrived at the venue. Your dress didn't have any pockets, so you left your phone with your bag. The room you got ready in didn't have a couch in it, though. It only had chairs and accent tables.

Your head was spinning as you closed your eyes.

You didn't know how much time had passed since you left the reception hall, perhaps your sister would come looking for you. She would find you leaning against a couch, then start yelling at you for not being in your seat at the table. The maid of honor was supposed to sit next to the bride, after all.

What a joke.

You shouldn't have come today. Shouldn't have been so scared that your parents would do something to you if you didn't show. You should've stayed in bed all day today, snuggling with Leon on one of his rare days off.

But you did come to the wedding, you were afraid of your parents, and you did drag Leon to this stupid wedding on his day off.

"Oh, dear. Are you feeling all right?"

You looked up quickly, the world spinning faster.

"I'm fine," you squinted at the person, not sure who had entered the room with you. "Just needed a rest, is all."

You could see them getting closer, walking around the coffee table you tripped over earlier.

"Are you sure you don't need anything?"

The voice was trembling, trying not to sound excited. They wanted to put up a concerned front to mask whatever intentions they had.

The knowledge of this made your blood run cold.

"I don't mind assisting you..." They rubbed your shoulder slowly.

When did they get so close?

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, head aching from the day’s events. You shook your head, "No, I should be getting back, actually. The bride will kill me if I'm away for too long."

You pushed yourself up to your feet just as a hand dragged you back down to the floor.

"No need to be in a hurry…" The person gripped your arm so hard you were sure they would leave bruises.

“She is expecting me. I’m sure the speeches are all done by now and she’ll want me there when the cake gets cut.” You muttered, “it wouldn’t leave a good impression on the guests if the maid of honor wasn’t there to support the bride.”

“She’ll be fine without you.”

"Let me go or I'll set you on fire." You threatened, although you didn't have the materials to go through with the threat.

"You know, you have been threatening to kill me all evening, but you're not so scary when you're like this." They said, chuckling.

There was only one person who annoyed you enough today to threaten them repeatedly.

'Eric.'

"What do you want, Eric?" You asked, trying to pull your arm away from his grip.

“I want to help you.”

“Oh really? Because I have a funny feeling that your definition of ‘help’ and my definition of ‘help’ don’t exactly line up.”

"I've come to be honest with you, then." He began, "I have been harder than a rock ever since I first laid eyes on you when we were taking pictures."

'What a terrible day to have ears.'

He pulled you closer, burying his head in your neck, inhaling your scent.

'Definitely going to be sick.'

Your eyes frantically scanned the room, looking for anything to help you, but you couldn't focus them on any one thing.

"I'm going to enjoy this."

Eric kissed your neck before biting down, hard.

He was determined to leave a mark.

'Remind me to kill this fucker when we get out of this.'

'I didn't have murder on my calendar today, but I can definitely make some time for it.'

You looked around the room again, spotting a vase just out of reach of your foot. You must have knocked it off the coffee table when you tripped over it.

'I don't want to hear anyone say anything about my clumsiness ever again.'

You carefully maneuvered your foot to pull the vase closer so you could reach it. Your quick breaths masking the sound of the glass being kicked around a tile floor.

"You taste so good, Y/N."

You had to swallow the bile that rose, focusing instead on getting the vase into your hand. You let out a sigh when you finally got a hold of the vase with your middle and pointer finger, gently pushing it into the rest of your hand.

You had just tucked the vase securely against your leg when Eric pulled back, admiring his work.

"You're being awfully quiet, what are you thinking about?"

You looked at his face, finding where you would aim the vase. Fluttering your lashes to look innocent, lifting your left hand up to his cheek and running your thumb across his jaw.

"I've been thinking..." You began, "about how the world would've been like..."

He licked his lips while staring at yours.

"Like what?"

You pulled his face closer to yours, noses just inches apart.

"How the world would've been like if your dad had pulled out."

His aroused look was replaced with anger within a blink of an eye, but you didn't give him time to act.

You smashed the vase as close to his temple as you could, jumping to your feet once he let go of you.

You stumbled around the coffee table, not wanting to trip on it again. You heard Eric fall to the floor behind you, groaning.

"You're fucking crazy."

"Yeah, well, people like you are the reason I'm on medication."

You began to panic when you heard movement behind you, he was getting up.

"You'll pay for that, you bitch!"

"Put it on my tab."

You grabbed the handle of the door, throwing yourself through, you stumbled down the hallway as fast as you could toward the reception hall.

"What is going on here?"

You spotted your sister walking down the hall toward you, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Keep him away from me!" You shouted at her, pointing behind you.

You stopped right next to her, your head trying to catch up with your quick movements as your hands trembled against the wall.

"What do you mean?" Your sister asked, tilting her head at you. "He's not doing anything to you."

Your eyes widened, fear sending shivers down your spine.

"He's chasing me, he-he was trying to throw himself on me!"

Your sister looked back toward the reception hall, then turned back to you.

"Keep your voice down, don't want to cause a scene."

“No, I’m pretty sure I definitely want to cause a scene.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Eric finally caught up with you, looking at your sister. "Do you see what she did to me?"

Blood ran down the side of his head, hidden within his hair.

"She smashed a fucking vase into my head."

Your sister looked at you in anger, slapping you across the face.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I didn't want this asshole to kiss my neck."

"You could've seriously injured him!"

"That was the plan." You muttered.

"Eric, take Y/N to one of the spare rooms so she can calm down. Please stay with her, I'm worried she'll hurt herself in her condition."

'My condition?'

"How do you know about my condition."

She smiled at you. "Who do you think gave you the drugs?"

"Drugs?"

"The ones I put in the wine, of course."

'But the only wine I've had was from...'

Eric.

"Although, they told me you shouldn't be able to move after taking it. I guess you didn't drink both doses..."

You only had one glass of wine earlier.

So the full cup that sat on the table in front of your chair had also been drugged.

'She orchestrated this whole thing.'

'I'll add her to the hit list.'

"Why?" You asked, feeling Eric clamp down on your arm.

"I have an agreement with Eric to uphold. You were apart of that."

Agreement?

She...

"She sold you to me..." Eric whispered in your ear, biting down on your earlobe.

"Do make sure he gets repaid in full."

"I'll kill you!" You jumped at your sister, but Eric pulled you back before you could get a hold of her.

She laughed, walking away. "Have fun, you two!"

Eric started pulling you back down to the spare rooms, while you grabbed onto random doorknobs, holding tightly.

"Somebody, help me!" You shouted out, Eric covering your mouth as quickly as he could.

Anger boiled in your chest, replacing the pressure that had previously occupied it.

Anger at yourself for accepting a drink from a stranger you didn’t even know.

Anger at your sister for drugging you.

Anger at this piece of shit who thought he could have his way with you.

Once you felt his chest against your back, you pushed your elbow forward, then ramming it back as hard as you could into his ribs.

He hunched over in pain, hissing.

“Leon!” You shouted, pushing him off you.

You only got a few steps away when your legs were kicked out from under you, making you fall to the floor, hard.

“Leon!”

“Leo-“

Eric crouched down and shut your screams by punching you in the face, stunning you.

“Stop your incessant screams, no one can hear you over the crowd.”

Your jaw throbbed, making your head ache so much that you were sure you would pass out from it. But you were also sure that if you pass out, something bad will happen to you. You fought against the dark spots that dotted your vision, you were panicking again.

But who could blame you in this situation?

You stared daggers into Eric, hatred clear in your eyes.

“Why are you glaring at me so hard?” He laughed.

“I’m hoping you’ll spontaneously burst into flames.” You spat.

He straightened, using his foot to push you down until your stomach was pressed against the floor. Then he lifted his leg, pulling it back to deliver a swift kick to your side.

Stars danced in your vision as you tried to curl into a ball, but Eric didn’t let you. He stepped down on your back, adding more pressure every time you tried to move.

“I told you that mouth of yours would get you in trouble.”

“Trouble…seems to be my middle name.” You gasped out, trying to catch your breath.

“With all the trouble you’ve given me today, you better be a good time.”

“Oh, I’ll show you a good time…” You muttered.

‘If only I had some gasoline…and a blowtorch. Then I would be able to show this bastard a good time…’

He roughly pushed down on your back before taking his foot off.

He grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet, dragging you closer to the rooms, and you knew you were running out of time. You didn’t think another vase would fall from the sky to aid in your escape.

You had to think.

And fast.

You kicked the back of his knee as hard as you could, forcing him to the ground grunting in pain.

“You bitch!”

“And the sky is blue, what’s new?”

He reached for your leg but only grasped air as you pulled your leg back as far as you could before kicking him in the side of his head. You kicked him again and again and-

“Y/N? What do you think you’re doing?”

You looked over to your mother, briskly walking toward you.

“Hey, did you bring a blowtorch with you today?” You asked her.

“What in the world are you doing to him, Y/N?!”

You looked down at Eric, he was unconscious, blood seeping from his mouth. He must’ve bitten his tongue while you were kicking him.

Good.

“Well, I wanted to show him a good time, but I need a blowtorch for that.”

She reached out and slapped you, hard.

You stared at her wide-eyed, then narrowed your eyes.

‘I’m tired of everyone thinking they can hit me whenever they want.’

“Enough of the sarcasm, just tell me what the hell is going on here?”

“This…disgusting bastard,” You gritted, gesturing to Eric, “tried to have his way with me, so I did what I had to do, even though I should’ve done much more.”

“He…tried to force you to…”

“Yes.”

Your mother opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“Apparently, your favorite daughter sold me to him in some kind of agreement they made.”

You placed your hand on the wall for support, head still spinning.

“…Did…did he…?” She couldn’t even get the words out.

“No.” You whispered.

You looked at you for a moment, running her eyes up and down your person, checking for something. You leaned back, leaning against the wall before sliding down to the floor.

“My head is still a bit fuzzy. I’m just glad I was able to do what I did.” You let out a breath.

Leon had been training you in self-defense, but you haven’t gotten very far as of late. Your training sessions always got…steamy, which took most of the time away from the session.

But you weren’t complaining.

Eric groaned, waking up and slowly looking around.

“What happened?”

You held your head in your hand. “You got your ass beat. Or should I say head?”

“You fucking bitch.” He spat. “Making jokes even at a time like this.”

“Where was the joke?”

“I should’ve-“

“Learn how to take no for an answer?” You offered, “I agree.”

“Eric, tell me what happened.” Your mother looked at him.

“Y/N wasn’t feeling well, so I thought I would take her to rest in one of the spare rooms.” He pushed up to a sitting position, glaring daggers at you while rubbing his bleeding head. “But I guess she didn’t want to go, a simple ‘no’ would’ve sufficed.”

You whipped your head around at him, making your vision dance while you glared back at him.

“You have ten fingers now, don’t you?” You asked, tilting your head. “Wouldn’t you like to keep it that way?”

“You see how violent she is towards me?”

“If she isn’t then I will be.”

You smiled, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. You didn’t have to be on the defense, waiting for Eric to make a move against you anymore.

You were safe now.

Leon crouched down next to you, eyeing your bruising cheek.

“Who did this to you?” He gently brushed his fingers over the splotchy red and purple of the bruise.

You grabbed his hand and held it to your face, leaning into his palm.

You recounted everything that happened to him, watching how his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. He moved your hair out of the way to get a better look at your neck, teeth gritting while his eyes glared at each mark he saw. He turned to look at your mother.

“Call the police and tell them to come here quickly.”

“Yes.” She said and ran off.

You’ve never seen your mother run before.

“Do we really need the police?” Eric asked him.

Leon cracked his knuckles, “you will want them here.”

“Oh, will I?”

“You’ll want them to come pull me off you before I make you die a slow and painful death.”

Eric’s eyes widened at Leon’s look of murderous intent.

“Did you want a headstone? Because I was thinking of tying cinder blocks to you and throwing you in the ocean…” Leon turned to you, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be right back, stay here.” He growled out.

‘I’m definitely sucking his dick later.’

‘You and me both.’

Leon stood, grabbing Eric by his collar and dragging him into the nearest room. He slammed the door shut and you heard the lock click.

‘He’s going to make what I did to Eric look like child’s play.’

You didn’t hear anything coming from the room for a few minutes.

“I didn’t, I-I swear I-“

Those were the last coherent words you heard from that room; his screams filled the silence. You shook your head, trying to shake away the fuzziness. You were slowly getting over the drug in your system, you were glad you didn’t drink from both glasses.

Who knows what could’ve happened to you if you had.

“What the hell is going on down here?!”

Your sister was running down the hall with a pissed off look on her face.

She must’ve heard Eric screaming.

“Bonding.”

“who’s in there with Eric?”

“Leon.”

She ran up to the door and started pounding on it.

“What is your crazy boyfriend doing to him?!”

“Hopefully crazy things.” You spat, pushing yourself to a standing position.

You walked over to your sister, putting your hand on her shoulder. She slowly turned to face you as you punched her as hard as you could. Satisfied when she fell to the ground.

She was always so fragile, never could take a punch or even a slap.

“We were supposed to be family,” you shook your hand, glaring at her. “I know we had a shitty relationship before this, but to do…to plan something like this?”

“This was beyond fucked up.” You crouched down and grabbed her cheeks, squishing them together harshly. “You’re lucky I don’t fucking end you. But that would be a mercy, so you’re going to continue to live but I’ll see to it you rot away in prison.”

Her eyes widened in fear.

“And if you don’t rot in prison…”

You slammed the back of her head into the floor. “Then you better hope I never find you.”

The police came shortly after you confronted your sister. They had to kick the door down and have three men pull Leon off Eric.

You gave them your statement and watched as they arrested Eric…well, you thought it was Eric anyways, Leon had beat him until he was unrecognizable.

They arrested your sister too and took the second cup of wine in to test what drug was used. They asked if you wanted them to escort you to the hospital, but you declined.

Other than a few scrapes and bruises, you were fine.

Eric had told Leon the agreement he had with your sister. Apparently, he and your sister met up the other day, to talk business. Your sister had gone into bankruptcy and needed financial help. Eric was hesitant to help, until your sister offered you as the cherry on top.

“He met up with her as a favor to Brandon, stalling her long enough so Brandon could have a go with his other woman, and he didn’t your sister to walk in on them.” Leon told you, shaking his head in disgust.

Two weeks later:

You were reading an article about your sisters’ arrest. Her mug shot looked like an excellent gift for her next birthday, you’ll have to go shopping for a frame.

Brandon decided to file a divorce against your sister after hearing about her bankruptcy. Apparently, cheating is okay but losing all your money is a step too far.

You haven’t heard much from your parents. Your father wasn’t a very emotional man, so he pretty much brushed it under the rug. Your mother looked more worried, which shocked the hell out of you. She never showed any concern for you before, only anger and hatred. You didn’t try to reach out to them, glad to go back to no contact.

Eric was awaiting his trial, but you didn’t think he would get a long sentence, predators like him usually didn’t. But you had sent a letter to him, informing him to never seek you out, or he would wish Leon had sunk him in the ocean that day.

You looked at the time on the computer and smiled. Leon should be getting home soon after a week-long mission. He was hesitant to leave you so soon after what happened, but you assured him you were fine.

And you were.

You had been lucky that things didn’t go as far as Eric wanted them to. You had to count your blessings where you could.

You shut off the computer and spun around in the office chair. You missed Leon and can’t wait to shower him in kisses once he walked through the door of your shared apartment.

Although you couldn’t remember much from the wedding due to the drugs and your anxiety, you would always remember it as a disastrous wedding.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon scott kennedy x reader

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

Note

oh if you did a little something for jonmartin and "hiding their face in the other’s neck" i would be so 🥺💕

touches prompt list

a little post-circus kidnapping hurt/comfort! cw for wounds/injury, mild blood, mentions of non-consensual touching, and mentions of kidnapping

There is a stranger’s elbow digging into Jon’s side.

He shifts from one foot to the other, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his side while surreptitiously giving the stranger a glare that he hopes adequately conveys his dislike of the current situation. The tube is packed, as it always is at this time of day, and there are… so many strange hands. An elbow, at least, is better than the hand that had pressed to his back as the individual it belonged to had instinctively tried to maintain their balance.

After all, Nikola didn��t touch him with her elbows.

Jon doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to think about any of it. He wants to lie down in a soft bed and get his first good night’s sleep in a month and finally have the space to process. Alone.

Instead, Martin stands next to him on the train. His hand rests just beneath Jon’s where it grips one of the metal poles, and Martin takes care not to brush against him despite how crowded the car is. Jon considered telling Martin, when they first got on the tube, that it was okay—that his touch would be… well, it wouldn’t be bad. But he’d stayed silent, allowing Martin to cultivate a careful space between them. They’ve been silent for the past twenty minutes as they’ve passed by station after station on their way to Martin’s flat in Brixton.

“I have a flat,” Jon had said uncomprehendingly when Martin had suggested (or rather, gently begged) that Jon come back to his flat with him. “It’s, um. It’s nice. Spacious. S-sturdy locks.”

“You… you don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Martin had said, sounding and looking very much like he wished Jon would anyway.

“I’m fine.” Jon was not fine. But he could be fine until he got back to his flat. It was always good to have a short-term goal.

Martin gave him a look that clearly said that he thought Jon was full of shit. Jon was, but it was still unnecessary. He was just trying to keep it together. What did Martin want—him sobbing and crumpling to the floor right here in the Archives? No, that wouldn’t do at all.

“You were kidnapped. Twice now. I really don’t want it to happen a third time. Besides, I…” Martin trailed off and fluttered his hands at his sides. “I—I should take a look at your hand. And your, um. Wrists.”

Jon looked down at his arms. They were, indeed, quite red and raw and scabbed over and likely to scar. Nikola had been irritated when she’d seen that he’d been tied up so tightly, but she’d decided there was nothing to be done about it. She would just ‘make do with what she had.’ And, well. She had never stopped Breekon and Hope when they’d cinched the ropes just a little bit tighter each time.

“I have first aid supplies in my flat,” Jon lied. He was fairly certain that he had a backpack of What the Ghost merchandise and a single mattress to his name at the moment. “I can take care of it.”

“So can I.” Martin took a deep breath. “I just… I don’t want to see you hurt, Jon.” His cheeks were flushed a rosy pink, and he looked over Jon’s shoulder at the wall behind him. “J-just for tonight, at least? I want…” Martin swallowed. “I want to make sure you’re safe.”

And then Martin had turned those lovely blue eyes to his, and, well. Here they are.

Jon adds 24 hours onto his mental countdown of the time he has left until he’s allowed to break down and tells himself that he can manage. It’s… important to have long-term goals as well. He splits this one into steps.

Step one: get to Martin’s flat without crying. He achieves this easily enough. He finally escapes the cloying presence of strangers as Martin’s door shuts behind them, and then it’s blissfully quiet. Martin flips on a light, illuminating the space in pale yellow. It’s a little bit messy but otherwise spartan. The walls are painted a dull eggshell white, the floor made of cheap lino. Martin sits Jon down on the couch and disappears into the bathroom. Jon stares at the wall and focuses on breathing evenly and thinking about anything other than how smooth his skin feels when he slowly rubs his fingers together.

Step two: let Martin bandage his wounds without crying. This is… more challenging, if only because it hurts. Martin apologizes profusely as he wets a cotton ball with isopropyl alcohol and gently cleans the inflamed areas. Jon sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down, focusing on anything other than the stinging, burning sensation in his wrists and hands. Funny—he’d thought that at this point, he would be used to the pain, but he’s not. All he knows now is what to expect.

Martin carefully wraps his hand and wrists in bandages. For a moment after he’s done, he delicately holds Jon’s hands in his like they’re porcelain. His hands are warm and soft, and Jon imagines how lovely they would feel against his cheeks. He thinks briefly that Martin is going to raise his unbandaged hand to his lips and lay a kiss across the back of it, but Martin doesn’t. Instead, he sets Jon’s hands back in his lap and stands, mumbling that he’s going to go make some tea.

Jon scrubs his uninjured hand across his eyes, just once.

Step three: sit on the couch with Martin and drink tea without crying. Martin presses a mug of steaming chamomile into his good hand and lays a plate of biscuits between them. “Th-they’re your favorite,” Martin says with a small, nervous laugh, like Jon’s not already staring at the plate with something choked sitting in the back of his throat. “I—I figured you probably haven’t really eaten today, and… I don’t really know what you’ve eaten lately. So, um. Yeah.”

Jon thinks of the things that Nikola had called food, then chooses not to think of them at all. He tucks the memory into a box next to cold hands and exposed skin and burning ropes and slams the lid before it can all come spilling back out again. “Thank you,” he says earnestly. He gingerly takes a biscuit in his stiff, aching hand that hasn’t had the time to heal properly and probably won’t get the chance to do so in the future and pops it into his mouth whole so he doesn’t get crumbs on Martin’s couch.

Step four: eat a biscuit that tastes like the best biscuit you’ve ever had and is the first palatable food you’ve had in weeks without crying.

“Jon?”

Jon blinks and comes back to himself. He’s staring blankly at Martin’s face, at eyebrows folded in concern and mouth curled into a small frown. Martin’s freckles are smudged into smears of tan, and the lines of his jaw waver like a mirage in front of Jon’s eyes. That’s odd, Jon thinks. Then, he feels something wet hit the top of his cheek.

Oh, no.

Quickly, Jon reaches up and scrubs the tears away from his eyes. As soon as he lowers his hand, more spring up in their place. He curses and sets his mug of tea down heavily on the table, taking one more look at Martin—whose eyes are now wide with worry—before turning away and attempting to pull himself together.

Step five: stop crying. Stop crying. Stop crying.

(Stop crying, his grandmother says as he stands in the living room, hands and knees dirty and hair a mess. He’s managing to say words between his sobs, words like book and stole and spider. She’s frowning at him, but her voice is still patient and calm when she says, You’re not making any sense, Jonathan. Stop crying, please, and speak clearly. You had a nightmare?)

“Jon, what’s—” Martin catches himself, which Jon is thankful for. He thinks that if Martin had finished that question—asked him what’s wrong—Jon wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from saying, what isn’t? “What can I do to help?” he says instead, a hand hovering carefully in the air between them like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch Jon or not.

“Don’t look,” Jon manages to say. He immediately feels ridiculous and follows with a quick: “S-sorry, it’s—I don’t k-know how to—I’m not—I’m n-not good at—”

“I’m not looking,” Martin says softly.

Jon cuts off, takes a breath, and turns his head back toward Martin. True to his word, Martin has his eyes closed, though his hand remains in the air between them. Jon presses his good hand to his mouth for a moment to hide how the sight rips a new, more ragged sob out of him. Then, tentatively, he reaches forward and takes Martin’s hand.

Martin inhales sharply. Jon almost lets go, but Martin curls his fingers around Jon’s hand and squeezes. He holds Jon’s hand tightly yet so achingly softly, and Jon could weep. (Or rather, is weeping.)

“Can I hug you?” Martin says abruptly, like he’d been fighting an internal battle about whether or not to say it and had just lost. His cheeks darken, but he doesn’t say anything else or take it back. His jaw shifts as he pinches his lips together and worries them back and forth.

Jon is… not the kind of person who initiates or seeks out hugs. He always makes them too stiff, or he holds on just a bit too long and makes them awkward, or he doesn’t know what to do with his hands and ends up just dangling them uselessly in the air. He’s also never really seen the point of them if he’s being honest. As a form of greeting, surely handshakes or waves or head nods get the point across just fine. Right now, though, there is truly nothing in the world that Jon thinks would make him feel safer than having Martin’s arms around him.

Jon nods, then remembers that Martin can’t see him and whispers, in as composed a voice as he can muster: “Please.”

Step six: hug Martin Blackwood without falling apart completely.

Martin’s arms are soft and warm around him. His chest is flush with Jon’s, and he’s holding him so close that Jon is practically on Martin’s lap. All Jon can think is that it’s been so long since he’s been held by something not made of sawdust or plastic. He grips the back of Martin’s jumper with lotion-soft hands and cries tears that have been collecting for a month into the fabric as he buries his face in Martin’s neck. Martin’s hands rub large circles across Jon’s back, and he’s whispering gentle words into Jon’s ear. Things about safe and okay and time and here.

By the time Jon feels thoroughly wrung dry, his cheeks are sticky and his head is throbbing and he’s desperately in need of a glass of water. He takes a few deep breaths, then carefully extracts himself from Martin’s arms. Martin lets him go easily, though his hands remain resting lightly on Jon’s elbows as if he can’t bear to let him go completely.

Jon thinks he knows the feeling.

Martin’s eyes are still closed, and Jon is hit with such a swell of affection he can hardly breathe around it. “Y-you can open your eyes,” he says, a bit sheepishly. Martin does, and if he’s affected by the state of Jon’s face, he doesn’t show any indication of it. “Sorry,” Jon mumbles, twisting his ring—now on his left middle finger instead of his right—around and around mindlessly. “I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Jon.” Martin squeezes Jon’s elbows gently. “I understand. Any time you need me to look away, I will. Okay? I just…” He takes a breath. “I’ll always be here. F-for you when you need me.”

If Jon weren’t thoroughly out of tears, that would make his eyes water. Instead, he nods and offers a small, weak smile. “I know. Thank you, Martin. It… just. Thank you.”

Step seven: fall asleep safe against Martin’s side in the bed that he insists is big enough for two, face pressed into Martin’s neck once again and hands curled loosely in Martin’s sleep shirt.

He’s so drained by the time they’re there, so wrung-out and empty and relaxed, that he manages to do so almost immediately. He thinks he hears Martin murmur, “Sleep well, love,” as he drifts off. But it disappears into the fuzzy border between sleep and wakefulness, slipping from Jon’s mind entirely as he fades to black.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #willoftitanium #my fic #my writing

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

can you write something about cheating harry and yn acting like a proper couple in front of anna, like harry with his arm around her and kissing her head and stuff, and anna is just standing there fuming and maybe tries to get physical with yn

Love Your Broken Pieces

warnings: cheating; mentions of trauma and domestic abuse

if you enjoy please consider donating $3 to my ko fi.

(any donations over $15 get a guaranteed blurb written of their choosing!)

reblog, like, comment, & come chat!

YN really really didn’t want to go out.

She wasn’t going to tell Harry that because it was a celebratory dinner for him because he’d just won Entrperur of the yearand she wasn’t going to ruin it.

It’s not that she didn’t want to celebrate his achievement.

She was so so proud of him but her therapy session had got moved up a day because the therapist had to go out of town.

YN didn’t want to bother him so she had went herself without telling him.

It was trauma-focused therapy which meant it was intensive, draining, and overall triggering at time.

Today had sparked a new memory that she had suppressed and she was really struggling to get through the day without his support.

She shouldn’t need him for everything. It wasn’t fair to him.

So she’d sat on her bed for thirty minutes before she managed to pull on a nice dress before curling her hair - zoning out and accidentally burning herself lightly.

Harry had to pick up Anna, offered to pick up YN.

“Hey pup, y’want me t’pick you up on the way?” Harry had called while she was swiping on mascara.

“No, I’ll just Uber,” YN try to keep her tone light but couldn’t stomach sitting in the car with that disgusting woman right now.

“No, let me come get you,” He insists, always preferring to drive her around over some stranger.

“I really don’t want to be in the car with Anna, okay? Just drop it,” YN replies a bit too tersely.

There’s a pregnant pause.

“What’s wrong, puppy?” Harry knows her much to well.

She couldn’t help but bristle, “Nothing. I just have to get ready. Okay? I’ll see you there.”

YN shouldn’t have hung up like that but her hands were shaking and it was taking all of her might to pull herself together to go.

“It’s all your fuckin’ fault your mum hates me,” Her dad had spat at her, right in the kitchen after dinner.

“Fuck,” She mumbles to herself as she drops her lipstick and it rolls under the dresser.

—

She canceled two Ubers before she found a driver who didn’t seem intimidating.

It made her fashionably late, everyone already seated, and it doesn’t make it any better when Anna greets her.

“About time. Can’t even make it at a respectable time for your supposed best friend’s dinner.”

Anna and Gemma both make a grimacing face at the rude comment but Harry interrupts before they interject, “S’okay, Uber’s can be a pain in the arse.”

“Er, yeah. The Uber…” YN mumbles lowly, there was an empty seat across from Harry that had been saved for her.

She could feel Harry’s eyes following her, studying her as she kept her head down and looked on the verge of tears.

“You look too much like your goddamn mother.”

“What d’you want to drink?” Harry asks softly, tapping her foot under the table.

“God Harry, she’s not a child,” Anna rolls her eyes as she glances over her menu.

Harry glares over at her with a strict warning glance that she needs to change her attitude or there is gonna be an issue.

“Just water,” YN replies, swallowing hard.

He knows somethings wrong when she doesn’t bite back at her, instead looking down at the menu like it’s the most interesting thing ever.

Harry had already known by the phone call.

There were quite a few people at the dinner, constantly engaging him in conversation as YN kept to herself.

It’s after the appetizer’s arrive that he can’t stand her fake smiles and attempts to seem like she’s enjoying herself.

“Outside, now,” Harry says firmly, not a question but a statement.

“Harry, don’t,” Anna huffs, not liking the private attention her enemy is about to get.

“I don’t remember askin’ you,” He hisses under his breath before following YN’s retreating figure to the main entrance.

They end up in the small alleyway, “Tell me what’s going on.”

YN’s eyes are moody, putting back on a nonchalant expression that would work for anyone but him, “I’m fine, I don’t know why you’re making a big deal. Let’s go enjoy your dinner.”

Harry backs her up against the brick wall, hand over her shoulder, “We’re not goin’ anywhere until you tel me. M’not stupid.”

It triggers something because she starts sniffling, whispers, “You’re going to be mad at me.”

His hard facial features relax, pressing his forehead to hers, “Please pup, y’know I love you no matter what.”

“My therapist moved our session to today. I went and uh…” YN begins to full on cry, burying her face in her hands.

“C’mon, tell me,” He encourages softly.

“It triggered a repressed memory. I…I didn’t want to ruin tonight for you. I fuck up everything for you already,” She chokes out, letting him pry her hands away.

“Puppy,” He murmurs with a laugh of disbelief, “I fuckin’ wake up everyday because of you. You make my life worth livin’. I’m not happy unless y’are.”

“I just…didn’t want tonight to go like this,” YN sighs quietly, “One night without my trauma.”

“Hey, hey. We’re workin’ through it together, yeah? It takes time. Y’made the effort to come and that means more to me than anything else,” He says truthfully, tilting her chin up.

Harry melts a bit when she leans up to give him a lightening fast peck, “I am so proud of all your accomplishments.”

“Wouldn’t have done any of it without you, sweet girl,” He rubs a thumb under her eye to wipe off a streak of makeup.

They stand outside for a minute longer in a tight hug.

When they walk back into the restaurant, Harry quietly asks Gemma to switch YN seats which she graciously agrees without a fuss.

Anna is shooting daggers at YN while the change happens and Harry pushes in her seat for her.

The whole dinner consists of Anna fuming and hanging on every single movement between the two despite her hand on Harry’s thigh.

When he scoops up a bit of his mashed potatoes and feeds them to YN, laughs when she makes a face at the amount of chives mixed in.

It’s like he doesn’t even noticed the casual arm he occasionally throws around the back of YN’s seat as they chat.

“Harry,” YN scolds with a small smile when he steals a shrimp from her plate when she’s not looking.

Anna had shrimp too and he didn’t look once to do that to her.

“S’good, here, have a bite of m’steak. Know Y’don’t like it rare but s’good. I promise,” He encourages, cutting her a thick piece.

How the fuck did Harry know how YN liked her steak?

He didn’t even remember Anna’s favorite color.

“Y’gettin’ sleepy?” Harry whispers to YN towards the end of the meal, his lips are nearly brushing her ear and Anna pinches his thigh hard.

“Fuck,” Harry replies, flinching away from the pain as he turns to his girlfriend, “Wha’ did you do that for?”

“Can you pay at least a little bit of attention to me? I’m your girlfriend despite how much YN wants to pretend she is,” Anna says haughtily, loud enough for her to hear.

Harry is about to snap on her but instead YN speaks up first, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know jealously was on the menu. Eat up, Anna.”

Anna begins to sneer but Harry says, “Why don’t you go take a second in the bathroom? Then we can talk, okay?”

With a little stubbornness, she does - stomping away from the table without looking back at YN who had rolled her eyes.

“Y’on my menu tonight? A bath and cuddle sounds nice,” He offers to his love, thumbing her upper thigh.

“So nice,” YN agrees, “Can we use that sugar cookie bath bomb?”

“Of course, anythin’ you want, m’pup,” Harry hums sweetly, kissing the top of her head.

Anna is walking back when she sees it.

He’s cheating on me.

It flashes through her mind but she pushes it away because she reminds herself that YN is a pathetic little clingy girl who Harry wouldn’t ever like that way.

—

Later that night, Harry holds YN as she recount her memory.

Praises her for being so strong.

Kisses her because he loves her so much it hurts most days.

Assures her that he’ll love her even if she’s never ‘fixed’.

Promises that he’ll never let anyone hurt her again.

—

I’d love feedback 🥺

taglist babies (thank you): @dioc4ne @hazgoldenstyles @harrysdimple05 @wonwooen @ficnarry @leeroysdancer @harrysloveheart @harryscherrysugar @pradastardust @rish-haz @wildcstdrexms @evanstylestan @wisetoadbonkbiscuit @meredithhuntt @tpwkvictoria @lovely-him @haymix @eiffelmezarry @pilgrim-harry @soullessbabee @afterglowstyles @tulsasjesus @elenagilbert01 @meh–mood @pretty-pop-princess-hs @msolbesg @localfalsegodstan @evanjh @i-just-like-fanfics @harrys-hs-gf @lightsupdoyouknowwhoyouare @afterglcwswift @harrystyles-tpwk @amyvandijk @godilovetheenglishx @harrys-cherrry @theprofessionalfanby @your–sweetest–downfall @la-cey @bdbtchdir @killerqueencapstan @elizabeth23567 @camflowervol6 @its-a-finee-line @rish-haz @solonelytobe @nav1234 @harrynamjoon @hopefullimaginer123 @westallenhes @awesomebooklover17 @will-be-a-fineline @vasilikir5 @your–sweetest–downfall @pretty-pop-princess-hs @harrynamjoon @harrypinks @ivyirenehoax @harryspink @sunsetcurve-h @goldenstylesh @mouthfulloftoothpastehs @hello-34583 @prettylovley @nicolecarsley @lamariettes @imavirginhoe @unknown7549 @mellamolayla @kiwitsayedsugar

#harry styles cheating #cheating!harry blurb #cheating!harry masterlist #cheating!harry

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missmonsters2 · 3 years

Text

That Way

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Please do not repost/translate anywhere. Reblogs & Comments are much welcomed ♥

Masterlist

Summary: But as you look at how Natasha shifts from foot to foot, a twinkle in her eye, you can't help but think—friends don't look at friends that way.

Warnings: A N G S T

Notes: WHEWwww I was out to hurt feelings today. If I see any biphobic comments in my notes, I will block you 💕

Count: ~1.2k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You stand in the back, unnoticed by everyone, as you lean against the wall and stare at Natasha.

She looks beautiful tonight. Well, she always looked beautiful, but you could tell that she had put extra effort into her appearance tonight. Natasha had taken hours to find the perfect dress and heels. She took hours curling her hair into loose curls and keeping them in place. You had watched her do her makeup delicately, choosing red lipstick because it made everything about her pop out.

Your eyes had scanned the room briefly. It was rather crowded as all of Tony's get-togethers are. You think it's kind of funny how easy it was for you to blend into the wall at the back.

You dressed up tonight, too, though you doubt anyone really noticed. Your hands rested behind you, crossed and trapped between the wall and your back. You had your knee bent as your foot rested at the angle against the wall.

You stare at Natasha, who's standing with Steve. People like them stand out, no matter how crowded the room is.

"Hey, loner."

You look over, startled to see Wanda slide up to you and join you by being a wallflower.

"Hey," you say softly, turning your head back. Wanda follows your gaze, quicker to catch at what you're staring at because it's not like you're being subtle.

She's speaking with Steve, and her hands are gripping the neck of her champagne glass tightly—a habit you know she does when she's nervous.

She's laughing at whatever Steve is saying, cheeks slightly pink. They look good together. The unabashed way you stare in their direction must make people think you're the other woman trying to come between them. If only they knew that the ring on your left hand had been a promise to you made by Natasha.

"Do you want to go grab a drink or dance?" Wanda asks because it just fucking kills her to see you standing here, staring at Natasha and breaking your own heart.

"No, it's okay," you answer softly, unable to rip your gaze away.

You should look away.

But it's like a sickness you can't stop. You can't stop staring at how Natasha's body is open to Steve, how he's leaning closer to her. Steve's hands are jammed deep into his pocket, a boyish shyness to him and a charming smile directed right at Natasha.

Things had changed since the two of them had been on the run together. You stayed because someone had to help them from the inside. Now you sorely regret not going on the run with them too. Would it have been different if you had?

Would you be the one standing with Natasha, flushed from flirting and the champagne as you stood a little too close?

It's hard to say since things have been different for so long now. You're suddenly hyperaware of how stupid you must be for hanging on as long as you have.

"C'mon," Wanda says as she grabs your arm to pull you towards them. You feel your stomach drop, anxiousness creeping up at the thought of approaching your own wife.

They don't seem to notice you and Wanda coming closer, and that feels worse.

"Hey, guys," Wanda butts in, her tone rather terse.

The two of them turn, almost surprised to be caught off-guard.

"Hey," Natasha says warmly as she smiles at you and kisses you on the cheek.

You want to feel happy for the gesture of affection, but you just feel empty. But you play the part of the loving wife with nothing wrong.

"Hi, babe," you smile lightly at her back before she turns back to Steve, and they jump back into whatever conversation they were in before you interrupted.

There should be some comfort in the fact that Natasha has her arm loosely around your waist, but there isn't. You stand there, lost. Listening half-heartedly to their conversation, you realize quickly it isn't anything you can contribute to.

You're just—there.

Your skin feels itchy. You feel like you're not even in your own body.

Look away. Look. Away.

You feel something clawing at your throat, desperate to say something. Desperate to make yourself noticed.

Before you can say anything, there's a sudden commotion. Some young business associate had drunk way too much as he started stumbling about. He bumped into a nearby waiter, sending the man toppling over, his tray of champagnes falling everywhere.

Your body tenses as its first reaction, and you suddenly feel splashes of cold liquid hit you all over. The moment is over quickly as you stand there with wide eyes.

There's champagne all over you. It's in your hair and drenched your front. You can faintly taste it on your lips, and you feel—sticky.

But none of that mattered.

None of that mattered because you see Wanda, Natasha, and Steve looking at you, shocked when you look up.

Your waist was cold, and it was cold because Natasha and Steve stood a little further away than they were before.

The realization of what happened makes you feel colder than the champagne you're drenched in.

Natasha had dropped her hand around your waist and had moved to push Steve out of the way.

Your wife's instinct was to save Steve.

That desperation in your throat morphed into rawness, and your eyes sting.

"Oh, god, honey," Natasha instantly started to say as she moved to you. "Are you okay? Let me—"

"I got it," Wanda cut in harshly, and you look over for the first time.

Part of Wanda's hand is wet, with droplets of champagne on her clothes and hair.

The second realization had you stifling a choked sob.

Wanda had tried to move you out of the way. Your wife's first thought wasn't you.

Natasha frowned. "No, I can—"

"You're a little busy, aren't you?" Wanda sniped, and Natasha is taken back by the tone. She frowned, opening her mouth to say something when you cut in.

"It's fine," you croaked, forcing your mouth to smile, even if your lips are trembling. "Wanda and I are the only ones who got it. We can go clean up. You should stay here."

Natasha seemed to stare at you, pensive, before she nodded, and it cracked your chest open a little more.

She used to never accept so easily.

Natasha turned to Wanda warily, who turned away and acted like she was grumpy from having champagne spilled on her.

You give Natasha one last reassuring smile that she returns before she turns back to Steve. He looked at you curiously, as if to ask if you were okay and you wanted to scream at him—scream and tell him to find his own woman.

But you let Wanda lead you away.

The commotion easily faded away, and people resume back like nothing happened—like your ribs hadn't been cracked open for everyone to see the final shatter of your heart.

You can't help but look back. See? It was a sickness.

Natasha had said multiple times that you had nothing to worry about, that she loved you. She told you Steve was just a friend.

But as you look at how Natasha shifts from foot to foot, a twinkle in her eye, you can't help but think—friends don't look at friends that way.

Part Two: Play the Part

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romaoff imagine #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff oneshot #avengers x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #avengers imagine #wanda maximoff angst #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #romanogers #natasha x you #natasha romanoff fanfiction #SoundCloud #mm: my fics

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yeet-me-dad-dy · 3 years

Text

Asmo's New Dress

Warnings: Unprotected anal sex, unprotected oral sex

Summary: It's your first time sleeping with Asmo, and your chance to show him just how well you can take care of him.

Characters: Bottom Asmodeus x Top AMAB GN Reader

Words: 2,319

Y/N, are you in your room?

I’m going out soon and this fastener is giving me so much trouble. I can’t get it up by myself.

It could really use a good tug. 🎵

I should mention that my back is extremely sensitive. The slightest touch, and… well, let’s just say it will be hard to hold back.

Sorry if I get you too excited. 💜

You chuckled, shook your head, and put your fingers to your phone screen.

Yeah yeah, on my way.

You pressed send and tucked your phone into your pocket. Asmodeus knew that he wasn’t actually bothering you; you were always more than happy to help him “get it up”, as the two of you liked to say. He always used fasteners as an excuse to get you in his room, despite it never leading to anything intimate.

You slid off of your bed, knocking one of your textbooks to the floor in the meantime, and pulled your shoes on. Asmo’s room was just at the end of the hall, so it didn’t take you but a minute to get there. You rapped gently on his door before stepping inside. The demon stood between you and his bed, trying to reach the fastener of his dress from all different angles. The concentration on his face was precious. He spun around as he grabbed for the zipper, his eyes landing on you. His face spread into a grin and he darted forward to envelop you in a rose-scented hug.

“Y/N!” he squealed as he nuzzled against you. “I didn’t hear you come in!”

You chuckled and squeezed him back, then he pulled away.

“You look lovely, Asmo. Is this a new dress?”

He nodded and turned around to reveal his bare back. You reached forward, resting one hand on the expensive black fabric. The other hovered over the shiny metal zipper.

“Is something wrong?” Asmo asked with a glance over his shoulder.

He really was beautiful, with soft, pale skin, a lean build, pouty lips, and stunning gold eyes.

“Y/N?”

You bypassed the zipper and pressed your fingers to his back, tracing a delicate line up his spine. He shivered beneath you, and his breath caught in his chest.

“Your beauty sleep does you good, Asmo. You’re so soft.”

Your other hand joined the first, and they slid upward to rest on his shoulders, massaging gently. He jerked, and then melted into your touch with a soft moan. It was as if all the strength left him then, and you had to wrap your arms around him to stop his fall when he collapsed back against your chest.

You chuckled.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” he pouted.

“Of course I am. You said your back was sensitive.”

He gasped and turned his head to gaze at you through those sunrise eyes. Then, his shock turned into a grin and he whirled around to throw his arms around your neck and pull you close.

“I was starting to think you didn’t want me,” he whispered as he clung to you.

You ran your hands all along his bare back.

“Of course I want you, Asmo, I just… My emotions are all over the place, and-”

He cut you off by pressing his lips against yours and kissing you deeply. It was your turn to melt into him, and all the tension that had built up over the past few months were washed away by the feel of him against you. Finally, he pulled away, allowing you both to pull in deep breaths.

“You don’t have to explain,” he said. “I understand. I know it’s hard having seven demon brothers all vying for your affections.”

He smirked.

“But I knew that you would choose me. After all, I am the most beautiful of them all.”

You chuckled and kissed him on the nose.

“Well, I can’t argue with that.”

You hoisted him up, and he wrapped his legs around your waist with a squeak. His dress rode up, exposing delicate lace panties with a noticeable bulge that pressed against your own. You carried him over to the foot of his bed and dropped him unceremoniously onto the soft mattress. He smiled softly up at you, those dazzling eyes of his gazing at you in want and adoration.

You knelt between his knees, and tossed his legs over your shoulders. He propped himself up on one arm while he held his dress out of the way with his free hand. You nuzzled against the flesh of his inner thigh, placing kisses and kitten-licks as you worked your way toward his clothed cock. You could see it twitching and beginning to rise, even with such simple touches. You smirked and moved on to the other leg, offering it the same delicate treatment until you reached his crotch. Your eyes met his, and you smiled as you pressed a kiss against his bulge. He whined and fell back, his hips arching up to meet you.

“I knew you were the avatar of lust, but I thought you’d be a bit... stronger,” you grinned against him. “Are you weak for me, Asmodeus? Me? A little ol’ human?”

He shuddered and reached a hand down to tangle in your hair.

“Don’t tease me, Y/N,” he pouted as he tugged at your locks.

“Mmm, I would never,” you purred. “Are these expensive?” you asked as you took the waistband of his panties between your teeth.

He moaned.

“Good,” you smiled, and pulled hard.

The thin fabric gave easily, coming away from Asmodeus’ sleek hips with a loud RRRRRRRRIP! His cock sprung free, long and hot and throbbing, to slap against his abdomen. His grip tightened in your hair, then was joined by his other hand.

“Asmoooo,” you sang as you repositioned yourself.

He wiggled his hips and whined.

“I want you to look at me while I take you down my throat. Sit up.”

He shuddered beneath you, and slowly his grip loosened. His length twitched in need as he propped himself up once more and met your gaze.

“Good boy,” you praised him, and watched as his face flushed a deep red. “Eyes on me. You’ve wanted this, so you’re going to enjoy it fully.”

He swallowed hard, but nodded all the same. You gave him a wink, and before he could react to it, you licked a long line up his cock, stopping at the tip to wrap your lips around his cockhead. He moaned low and struggled to keep his eyes from rolling back. He bit his bottom lip as you dipped your head, taking him deep in one movement. His member slid down your throat, and you paused as your mouth hit his pelvis to swallow down your gag reflex. He twitched violently and you swallowed again, registering his reaction. He wiggled beneath you, searching for friction, which you were happy to oblige. You hollowed your cheeks, flattened your tongue, and bobbed your head.

He brought a hand forward and grabbed your hair with a hiss.

“Y/N… Oh, fuck…”

He squeezed his eyes shut, and you removed him from your mouth with a wet pop.

“What did I say?” you growled low, and he squeaked in surprise.

This was a side of you he hadn’t seen before, and he absolutely loved it. He locked his gaze with yours once more, eyes wide and lust-blown.

“Keep your eyes on me, or you’re not going to like how this night ends,” you warned.

He sucked in a deep breath and nodded. Your expression went from predatory to loving in an instant, and then you were smiling up at him as you took his cock in hand and swirled your tongue around his tip, paying special attention to that sensitive spot just below his cockhead.

His hips jerked forward and you chuckled as you returned him to the warm confines of your mouth. His breathing picked up, chest heaving as you sucked him off expertly. You had to pin his hips to the bed, as he wouldn’t stop trying to fuck your throat on his own. You set a pace, comfortable for both of you and your throat, then slid a hand down his hips to rest between your own legs. You pawed at your cock, a hard bulge beneath your jeans. You needed to get these pants off before the strain against your erection became too painful. Deftly, you undid the zipper and reached in to pull your girth free. Asmo’s eyes darted from yours to your member, as it lay heavy in your hand. He licked his lips, and you had to snap your fingers to remind him to keep his eyes on you. With a pained whine, he returned his gaze and tugged at your hair.

“I want you in me,” he breathed.

“Be patient,” you replied, before returning to the job at hand.

“Y/N,” he whined again. “I’m gonna cum, and I don’t want to yet. I want you inside me first.”

You shook your head. His legs tightened around you, pulling you closer, forcing him deeper.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” he panted as he drew close to the edge.

You only grinned around him as he curled forward with a cry. His cock throbbed, and he writhed on the bed as you sucked around him, taking all of his hot seed directly down your throat. You pumped your own cock as he came, and the spring began to tighten in your core. You used your tongue to massage him as his climax passed, bringing him down slowly. He didn’t manage to maintain eye contact as he came, but you didn’t mind. If you had cum that hard, you wouldn’t have been able to either.

Slowly, you pulled yourself off of him. He twitched and moaned beneath you until you released him, and then was finally able to collapse back and suck in deep, heavy breaths. You pressed soft kisses to his thighs, hips, and belly as you stroked his sides, fingers grazing his skin like ghosts.

“Mmmmmmmmm…” he hummed, pleased.

You stripped down naked and then roughly peeled his dress off of him. You crawled on top of him and looked at you in surprise.

“What, you didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?” you smirked.

You propped yourself up with one arm next to his head and the other between your legs. He moaned when you pressed your cockhead against his entrance and applied gentle pressure. His head dropped back and he closed his eyes, mouth slightly agape. His breath smelled like flowers, and you dove in to press your lips against his in a firm kiss. Your tongues tangled together as you slowly pushed against him. Your cockhead popped past the rim of his asshole, and you slid deep. He released a pained cry that you swallowed greedily, then curled his fingers around your forearms, his nails digging into your skin. You broke away from the kiss to suck deep bruises into his neck and shoulders, followed by soft licks and kisses.. He shook beneath you, his walls clenching and unclenching around your length as he adjusted to the sheer size of you.

“B-big…” he breathed.

“Hmm? I didn’t quite catch that, darling. Use your words.”

He whined and opened his heavy-lidded amber eyes to meet yours.

“You’re…” he swallowed and clenched hard. “You’re bigger… than I expected you to be.”

You nuzzled into his neck.

“But you’ve taken something this big before, right? I know you have toys bigger than me.”

He nodded and gripped your arms harder.

“Yeah, I just… wasn’t expecting- AH!”

You snapped your hips forward, pressing hard against the curve of his intestines.

“Fuck!” he cried and bit down on his bottom lip to try and stifle the stream of swears that followed the first.

You chuckled and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Are you sure you can take me, big boy?” you teased.

He swatted your arm, but nodded.

“Good.”

Slowly, you pulled almost all the way out, and then gently pushed back in. Asmodeus released a very visible sigh of relief.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I won’t break you,” you reassured him.

He turned his head to bury his face in the crook of your arm.

“I-I can take it,” he mumbled.

“I know you can.”

You peppered him in more kisses as you fucked him softly, lovingly. He felt incredible around your cock, so soft and warm, and you were big enough that he was tight around you, even as he relaxed. You could feel the curve of his intestines against your cockhead with every thrust. Every movement was an ember that added to the fire in your stomach, and you throbbed inside of him. His quiet whines and moans were music, and you had to resist capturing him in another bruising kiss to find out what they tasted like.

“Harder…” he finally breathed.

Wordlessly, you picked up the pace, barely sliding out before plunging back in, fucking him hard and fast. You panted as you rutted against him, sweat glistening on your brow. You could feel the inferno raging inside of you, threatening to burn you to ash.

“Fuck, Asmo, I’m close.”

“Me too,” he replied, and finally turned his head back to look at you.

You lowered yourself onto him so that your bodies were flush and you ground down against his cock as you fucked him.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” he nearly screamed, and wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

He raked his nails down your back and you winced in pain, but didn’t dare slow, not with how close you were.

“Fuck, Asmo. God, you feel so good…”

“Mmm, God has nothing to do with it, honey.”

His lips found yours and he drank you in deep as your pace turned erratic.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” you panted. “Cum with me, Asmo. Cum with me.”

You barely finished your sentence before you buried yourself as deep as possible and released inside of him. He cried out your name as he came with, and you could feel his cock throbbing between you as you throbbed within. He clenched and unclenched as he spasmed with his climax, writhing and shaking and moaning loudly. He milked you for all you had.

Minutes passed before either of you came down, and you collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily. Your cocks twitched, chests heaved, bodies shook. You buried your face in his neck and breathed him in. You loved how he smelled, your Asmodeus, always the sweetest thing.

“I love you, Asmo,” you mumbled, and he tightened his grip around you.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Moments passed as you both caught your breath, and then Asmo loosened his grip. You lifted your head to look at him, and before you could register what was happening, the demon flipped you both so that he was on top, smirking down at you. You were still inside of him, and his cock stood proud and erect, his cockhead and chest glistening with fresh cum. Twisted horns sprouted from his head and black, leathery wings from his back. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your jawline.

“What?” he smirked against you. “You didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?”

You grinned. This was going to be a long night.

#obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me asmodeus x male reader #asmodeus x reader #asmodeus x male reader #obey me asmodeus smut #asmodeus smut

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stardustedangel · 3 years

Text

Red Light

⊱ ━━━━━━━━.⋅ ෆ ⋅.━━━━━━━━ ⊰

pairing || ransom drysdale x fem!reader

word count || 2.4k

summary || you and ransom have some fun in his car after you had been begging for some special attention

warnings || 18+ ; minors DNI ; teasing, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), finger sucking, car sex, semi-publix sex, unprotected sex, spanking, choking, hair pulling, slight degradation

author’s note || first fic in over two months so i’m nervous but hope everyone likes it <333 YOU DO NOT HAVE ANY PERMISSION TO RE-PUBLISH, TRANSLATE, OR TAKE ANY OF MY WORK.

⊱ ━━━━━━━━.⋅ ෆ ⋅.━━━━━━━━ ⊰

There you were, sitting in the passenger seat while your hands were fidgeting with the hem of your slip dress in a sad attempt to keep your hands off of the man driving. You glanced over at Ransom and clenched your thighs at the sight beside you.

Nostrils flared. Eyebrows furrowed. Bottom lip pulled between his teeth and two fingers were placed against his temple in an attempt to rub out his growing irritation. God, it was a sight to see. You tried to keep the small smile threatening to show as pride bubbled in your chest knowing that you were able to work up a reaction like this from him.

You knew you should’ve been embarrassed with what had happened in the last thirty minutes. Ransom and you had been at a bar drinking with some of his friends when you all but begged him to leave. He’d refused the first few times you had asked, throwing you an eye roll and telling you that you’d both leave with the next hour, but when your hand palmed at his subtle bulge under the table he dragged you to the car, but not without throwing his friends a half-hearted apology.

You’d been thinking of something to say. Maybe asking him where he was going as if you didn’t know. Just something to break the tension in the car—something that would hopefully end in him taking you over the hood of his car. It only took a few more seconds of rubbing your thighs together and mouth opening and closing time after time trying to force words out before a whimper tumbled its way out of your mouth. Your head fell against the headrest in embarrassment, but your thighs didn’t stop their movements.

Ransom’s eyes left the road for a split second to take in your hazy appearance, either from the alcohol or from how needy you were, and eyes shifting lower to see the way your dress was slowly slipping up each time your thighs shifted together.

Ransom’s eyes returned to the road as he let out a deep sigh. “What are you doing?” Thank god he said something.

You let out a frustrated whine, confused as to why Ransom was taking his sweet time on the road instead of fucking you the minute you two got into the car. You were even more annoyed that he wasn’t showing you attention while driving—no hands on you and only one gaze your way since he’s been driving.

“Waiting for you to do something,” you whined while your body slightly thrashed in the seat.

Ransom couldn’t stop the amused quirk of his eyebrow, “Oh?” Ransom halted the car when he saw the light flick to red and looked over at you lazily. “What exactly should I do, baby?”

“Fuck me,” you said bluntly with a whine trailing off at the end of your words.

You slid your left hand across the center console and set your hand on Ransom’s upper thigh. You squeezed lightly before trailing your hand to rest on his bulge, squeezing again all while making eye contact with Ransom. He twisted his face in mock sympathy, leaning over the console sweetly holding your hand that was placed over him. You were quick to lean into him, thinking he was going to finally give you what you want before he tossed your hand back into your own lap and started driving again when the light turned green.

You groaned and sunk further into your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Fucking tease.”

Ransom chuckled and rolled his eyes at your words. “That’s rich coming from you, baby.”

Truth be told, Ransom would have no problem fucking you in his car—maybe ever pulling over and bending you over the hood while he gave to you as good and hard as you always liked it, but where would the fun be in that? He loved watching the way you got yourself worked up all night, trying desperately to drag Ransom away from his friends so he’d touch you or give you anything. And he loved seeing you squirm in the seat of his car, practically dripping onto the seat. Ransom was willing and looking forward to seeing how far you’d take things.

“I can’t wait till we get home. Can we do something now, please? I just,” you cut yourself off when you let out a desperate sigh, “I can’t wait, Ransom.”

Though his eyes were still focused on the road you pouted up towards him. Putting on your most innocent, pleading expression you could and leaning in towards him. His eyes left the road to connect with your bright ones, feeling a small part inside of him twinge in pity. A bigger part of him felt pride, amusement, and all and all—need.

Ransom saw the way you were eyeing his bulge and his mouth quirked up in a smirk as he relaxed further into his seat. “You have until we get home, kitten. Better make it quick.”

You squealed in excitement. Hands sliding over the center console and working on the button and zipper of Ransom’s pants, hand reaching beneath his underwear to pull his cock out. You didn’t know how long you’d have till the two of you would be home, but you figured choking on his cock was a good way to pass the time.

Your right hand worked over the bright red tip, smearing his precum around. Your hand left his cock for a split second to spit into it before returning and working your hand up and down. Ransom let out a low groan, grip tightening around the wheel as your own tightened around him.

You barely paid attention to the reactions that you were getting out of Ransom, instead choosing to focus on the movements on your hand. With each pull upward your thumb rubbed over his tip. After a couple of minutes, you leaned your head down to lick his tip, then dragged your tongue down to lick the underside of his cock. Ransom let out a shaky breath, hand coming to rest on your head and thread through your hair, not pulling or tugging, just simply resting there.

You finally took him down your throat, mouth wide and eyes closed as you reveled in the feeling of some of your needs being satiated. You always loved taking Ransom down your throat; having him use you any way he liked. Your left hand grasped onto his thigh while your right continued to work over the parts of him that you couldn’t take down your throat.

“Oh, fuck,” Ransom quietly let out, but you still heard it. You moaned in response and Ransom’s hips quickly thrust up, eliciting a gag from you. You kept your mouth on him, but only quickened your pace.

“Fuck, baby. Your mouth is so warm. Fuck- feels so good.”

Your mouth came down harder and quicker, taking him down your throat even further, taking pleasure in every sound that Ransom made. Ransom shuddered above and had to make a conscious effort to slow down the car. He hadn’t noticed how hard his foot was pressed down on the gas pedal until he was forced to slow to a red light. He was grateful that it was only him and a couple of other cars on the road.

Ransom’s grip then tightened in your hair, pulling you up and down faster as he continued fucking your mouth. He was chasing his high and all you could do was wait for him to come down your throat. As he chased his high, your hand moved back towards yourself and under your dress, rubbing your clit through your lace panties before shoving two fingers into your pussy. Ransom took notice of this and his hand left your hair, yet his thrusts never ceased. He spanked your ass that was arched high in the air as you played with yourself, making you moan and jolt forward.

“Playing with yourself while taking me down your throat? You’re such a dirty girl, fuck. Such a dirty girl letting me fuck this warm mouth right here.” Ransom’s words spurred you on, making your cunt clench. He spanked your ass again, noticing you getting closer to your high.

“Fuck, kitten. That’s right. Come all over those pretty, little fingers. Be my good girl.” You moaned against his cock and your hips started to rock over your own fingers.

It only took a few more rolls of your hips for you to come, whimpering and loaning on Ransom’s cock while he palmed at your ass. Ransom pulled you off him with a pop. “Ransom,” you whined up at him needily. Eyes glassy and lips red and swollen. He took a firm grip on your jaw, pulling your mouth onto his, tongues moving over one another’s before pulling away.

Ransom’s previous plans of driving home had been long abandoned. He quickly put the car in park, not caring that he had just stopped fully at the light—not like there were any cars around anyways. Ransom looked at you with a smirk on his face. “Change of plans,” he grabbed your waist and swung you into his lap, “I’m gonna give you exactly what you want right now.”

You moaned and started to rut against Ransom’s cock the moment you were settled in his lap. His head teased your folds as he pulled your panties to the side and used his right hand to move the car seat back. When the seat jerked you gasped and pulled at the collar of Ransom’s shirt eagerly. “Fuck me, please, Ransom. Need it so bad.”

“Don’t worry, kitten,” Ransom lined himself up at your entrance and placed his hands on your hips before looking at you with a mockingly sweet look in his eyes, “I got you.”

Ransom then thrust up into you the same moment he pushed you down onto him. You cursed loudly at the feeling of being stretched out so deliciously. The feeling you had been waiting for all night was finally here and your body moved quicker than your mind did as you started to ride Ransom.

Your hands settled on Ransom’s shoulders while his fell to your hips fastening your pace. His nails were biting into your skin leaving crescent-shaped marks that you were sure you were going to see the next day. His head tipped back and his mouth fell open at how warm and tight you felt around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me. Can’t wait to come in this tight, little cunt, baby.”

You sobbed and threw your head back when the head of his cock hit the special place inside of you that had you squirming. You could already feel your next orgasm building from your last and started to pull at the collar of Ransom’s shirt desperately. You looked at him with dark, lust-blown eyes and whimpered. “Ransom,” you gasped and swallowed in an attempt to get the words out, “kiss me.”

Ransom was quick to wrap his hand around your neck and pull you into him. Your lips slid together as his tongue slipped into your mouth and played with yours. His hand on your neck tightened and as the kiss continued you were slowly becoming light-headed. Everything felt like too much yet not enough at the same time. Each time you wanted to pull away from the pleasure you were only further encouraged by yourself to dive in deeper.

Ransom's tongue licked over your bottom lip as he pulled away and used his grip on your throat to bounce you harder onto him as his hips thrust in time to meet your movements. His hand previously on your hip went to play with your neglected, throbbing clit and that sent your upper body curling into Ransom.

“Ransom! F-fuck, I’m gonna come.” Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands as he groaned at your touch, and your face rested in the crook of his neck. Your mouth latched onto his neck, sucking and nipping marks that you hoped would last for days.

“Come for me, kitten. I’m right behind you.”

You quickly came undone around Ransom, clenching around his and hands tightening onto the tufts of hair between your fingers. Your hips rolled against his wanting to ride out your orgasm as long as you could. Ransom helped you along as his fingers circled and played with your clit as you came. Seconds later both of Ransom’s hands returned to your waist to bring you down onto him one last time as he crashed into his own climax. He mumbled your name over and over as he rode out his own high.

The two of you finished riding your highs out and your bodies were sat close together, exhausted and sweaty. When you had enough energy to move you sat up and threw Ransom a tired, but bright grin. He returned a smug grin of his own, hand coming to guide your face to his to place lazy kisses onto your lips. They weren’t as heated and desperate as before, but the passion was still there as the two of you lazily kissed.

Ransom separated from you and moved your body upwards slightly to pull himself out of you. He cockily admired the way his cum dripped out of you and used his fingers to push it back into you. He adjusted your panties back over yourself and tapped your thigh teasingly as he finished. Ransom pressed a kiss onto your collarbone and carefully maneuvered you back into your seat. “Let’s get you home. Alright, baby?”

You hummed and slumped back into your seat with a dopey grin on your face, your body feeling fully relaxed and your mind completely fucked out. “Yes, sir,” you said in a teasing manner.

“Oh, one more thing,” you said quietly and shuffled in your seat slightly as you beckoned Ransom to lean over the center console towards you. He did and let out a low 'yes, baby?’ as he did. You lined your lips up to his ear and giggled to yourself.

“The light’s green,” you whispered with a cheeky smile. You pressed a kiss to his cheek before settling back fully into your seat and bringing the seatbelt over your body, eyes closing in content. Ransom could only shake his head at you with a stupid, grin on his face as a breathy comment of ‘brat’ left his lips before he was buckling up himself and putting the car in drive, ready to leave the light that the two of you had been sitting at.

You giggled at his next teasing words and bit your lip in excitement. “Don’t get too tired, baby. You’re gonna wanna be up and ready for round two.”

⊱ ━━━━━━━━.⋅ ෆ ⋅.━━━━━━━━ ⊰

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#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x fem!reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale oneshot #ransom drysdale one shot #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale imagines #ransom drysdale smut #knives out smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x fem!reader #chris evans smut #༊‧₊˚. dest writes

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