#it loops back around . i know it's hard to remember that in the moment though. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cloverfarm · 10 months ago

Text

— every trick in the book

sdv!harvey x f!reader

rated e - 3k

Tags: gentledom/service!dom harvey, mutual pining/ yearning, kissing, begging, teasing, body worship, oral, fingering, vaginal sex

part ii of read you like a book, but can be read as-is!

“You’re always working so hard,” It’s a soft murmur, as your fingers fit around him. Feeling the hard outline through the fabric, as you scoot backwards off him, “Let me take care of you, too.”

It could just be last night that you mean, but it’s more than that. You want to make him feel appreciated. Seen.

(Or - you return the favor.)

You wake to a sunlight streaming in, stretching pale gold across the floor.

An arm slung across something solid, a low thrum beneath your ear. It takes a moment before the night before comes rushing back, a heat settling in your core and cheeks that is absolutely linked to the body you’re using as a pillow.

A tilt of your head, and your eyes are meeting his. Your lips parting with surprise - quickly forgetting your shock that you slept in with the distraction of him.

Harvey, still in your bed. Stripped down to a white t-shirt and boxers. His glasses still resting on the bedside table.

If it had been anyone else, you would have expect them to leave. But it felt right - the dress shirt slung over your kitchen chair. One of the toothbrushes you bought in bulk, tucked in the cup next to yours.

“Morning,” You stifle a yawn, as you sit up, “How long have you been up?”

The arm looped around you tightens for a fraction of a second, before it slips down to the bed.

“I woke up early, but I made sure not to wake you.” His voice is lower than usual - rough with sleep.

There’s a soft smile then, with the tilt of his head, “You looked so peaceful.”

You don’t know how he can be so sweet, when he ruined you so thoroughly the night before. The urge coming back to kiss him again, your eyes dropping to his mouth.

Thinking about how he tasted like you, when your tongue has brushed his.

But you don’t quite know if he wants that, now that a new day has begun. His insistence that last night was about you. That he had wanted more, but had never reached out and taken it for himself.

It leaves you on uneven footing.

“Are you hungry?” You manage, instead.

The time ticks towards overdue for your chores, but you can’t bear to drag yourself away.

His head shakes.

But then he’s adding hesitantly, “Coffee would be great though, if you have it.”

Your teeth sink into your lip as you smile.

“I think I can manage that.”

As if you haven’t been growing beans to harvest for him, as if you didn’t already know how much he loves it. So many morning already spent, the buzz from his smile as you handed over the cup doing so much more than a shot of caffeine could.

When you return, holding two cups, the shirt from the night before tugged on - you linger for a moment, in the doorway.

Harvey is frowning at his phone, lost in thought. He’s always handsome but like this - sleepy and tousled, his guard down - it is something you want to remember.

“I could get used to this.” You sigh happily, as you set the cups down on the side table.

His hand scratches through his hair, the words coming slowly, “Having someone in your bed?”

“No,” You huff, though you’re smiling.

“Seeing you. Like this.”

The look he gives you is startling, something tender nestled deep in his eyes. His voice rough in a new way as his hand reaches for yours.

“Come here.”

With a squeak, you’re hauled into his lap. It echos the night before, though with familiarity in your movements now.

His eyes flick between yours for just a second - and it’s you that kisses him first this time, in the dawn of a new day.

The soft press of lips that grows hungry. His name panted against his mouth as his hands wander - more confident in the way his palms curve around your waist.

A sleep-thick hum when he hears you, just before his tongue sweeps across your lip. They part for him, a rock of your hips as you shuffle closer.

Feeling him beneath you, separated by just a thin layer of cloth. Soft sounds pulled from you as he deepens the kiss. His touch slow as it slips down to your hips, and then under your sleep shirt.

A twist of his wrist, until his fingers brush your inner thigh. A throb of need shooting straight to your cunt, your breath tight with anticipation.

“Yes,” You moan - needing his touch, “Please, Harvey.”

He hums, the sound turning to a rough groan when the tips of his fingers slip against you. How wet you are for him already, the little buck of your hips into his touch.

“I don’t know why you bothered to put this back on,” He husks in your ear, his other hand tugging at the hem.

It’s all you need to hear before you’re pulling it off, letting it drop off the side of the bed. The sound he makes is one you’ll commit to memory - the need, as he pulls you back in for a kiss.

A shot of pleasure ringing through you as he circles your clit, with that same pressure as the night before.

Your own hand drifts, across his chest, and down. The back of your hand brushing his as you cup him, greedily watching the way he inhaled a sharp breath.

It could just be last night that you mean, but it’s more than that. You want to make him feel appreciated. Seen.

He groans at your touch, the smallest nod - giving himself permission - as your fingers hook around the elastic of his boxers.

Lifting his hips so you can tug them down. A dark dusting of hair thickens where his shirt is pushed up, down to where it frames the base of his cock. Heavy where it bobs against his stomach, the head flushed. The tip shining, threatens to leak with his need.

“Harvey.” You sigh, and his cheeks dust with pink. Lips parting to say something, the sound turning into a ragged gasp when your head ducks.

The tip of your tongue catching the drip, tasting velvet skin. Messy, in the way your cheeks hollow as your mouth closes around him. Spit pooling on your tongue, slicking him up as you go deeper.

You like the way he sighs - the involuntary throb when you swallow him down. When your fingers curl around his base. The soft squeeze before your palm drops down to cup him.

“Look at you.” Harvey’s voice has your eyes opening. That tone from the night before, his fingers tightening where they fist in your sheets - holding back the urge to buck into your mouth.

You’d like to make him let go, you think. Like to let him take, for once.

It makes you moan. A soft hum around him that has his head tilting back. Leaning into the pump of your fingers, the swirl of your tongue.

Until his hands are reaching to cradle your face - saliva stringing from his cock to your lips when you ease him out of your throat.

“You can come in my mouth,” It comes out hoarse, and his fingers pinch against your skin, “Unless you want to come somewhere else.”

“Yoba, sweetheart.” He grits out, teeth clenched. A twitch of his cock in your palm, where you still squeeze him.

You push yourself up, kneeling between his spread thighs. His hand already reaching to cup you. A rough sound in his throat when he feels how you drip for him, inner thighs sticky.

“I’d really like to fuck you,” Harvey rasps - the tip of a finger traces your opening, nudging at the tight entrance. “Would you let me in here?”

He dips inside and you can’t help but clench around him - remembering how good he felt the night before.

“Yes,” You keen, as he sinks knuckle-deep.

A second finger added after a moment, thick inside you as he works you open - your hands fisted in the shoulders of his shirt.

Until you can feel a tremble in your thighs. Something building in your belly as your eyes grow hazy with pleasure.

Pliant, as he leans you back. Fingers slick with you as they tug at your legs, guiding them over his own.

A hand finding a wayward pillow, his own look dark as he lifts it in question.

“Can I use this?”

You nod, and he smiles, “Then tuck this beneath you, sweetheart.”

It’s easy to do as you are told. Tucking it under your back. A low cluck of his tongue as he leans over you - hands catching the edges.

A sharp tug as he works it into place beneath your hips, tilting you up to meet him. His boxers pushed down his long legs, lost in the twist of blankets as he fits himself between your thighs.

“This okay?” Harvey asks, and it takes your brain a moment to process.

Eyes too caught on how his hand wraps around himself. Half-tempted to tell him to keep going, so you can watch as he works himself empty across your belly.

“Y-Yeah,” You manage, a small frown as the corner of his lips turn up, “It’s been a while-”

“I heard you,” The smile deepens, his cheek indenting with a dimple, “Two years, right?”

That knocks you out of your daydreams, heat flooding through you.

“You weren’t supposed to be listening to that,” You huff, eyes dragging away.

He thumbs at your chin, bringing you back.

“I’m glad I did.” The teasing edge ebbs, “Been longer for me, don’t worry.”

He already knows your birth control methods - something you are only now grateful for. Weeks spent going over that first appointment at his clinic, a hand scrubbing over your face as you had stuttered - already enamored with him.

“I find that hard to believe,” Your hips lift, meeting his length - letting it rub against you.

There’s an inhale of breath as he shifts over you, eyes dragging over your form.

“I would disagree,” He husks, “But that’s something I’d rather do later. Right now, I…”

Harvey’s words trail off. His thumb rolling against your clit, before it shifts against your skin - tugging you open.

Your skin puffy and slick beneath his touch - a strong throb of desire racing through you.

“I want you.” You whisper.

He smiles back, “You have me.”

Your breath catches as he lines himself up. The thick head of his cock pressing against you, wrenching a sharp inhale from your lungs as he sinks into you.

Half-seated in you when he goes still, worry crossing his features, “You sore, honey?”

Your head shakes. A roll of your hips as you try to take him deeper.

“No,” You pant, “Feels, feels good. You’re just-”

Bigger than your fingers. A tight fit into your slick hole, your moan drawn out as his hands fit against your waist. Tugging you to meet him, until he’s buried fully.

Twin sighs, as he takes a moment for you to adjust. You’re the one that moves first, again. Greedy, in the way your teeth sink into your lip. Hands reaching to brace on his thighs, just above where his knees press into the mattress.

He begins to move, but not before he shoots you a look that sends a jolt through you. A slow saw of his hips that drags his cock against your walls.

A little squeal when he shifts almost all the way out, only to hilt himself with a sharp thrust.

“That what you want, sweetheart?” He coos, with a slow roll of his hips. Slipping from you again, just the tip of him inside as he waits.

“Yes,” You beg, “Please-”

The syllables string out as he fills you again. His low grunt melding with your moan, as he finds his rhythm.

Steadily pounding into you. The pressure in your belly swirling as your thighs inch wider. His fingers curling against your skin, a gentle tug to meet the slap of his hips against yours.

It has a hand dropping to the sheet, twisting in them the ground yourself. Ragged panting breath as each thrust sends a jolt down your spine.

“Is that good?” He asks. Voice strained, unable to help the circuit of his eyes. Your face down to the sway of your tits - as your hands drift up to cup them, thumbs brushing the tight peaks of your nipples.

To where you take him, each inch of him slicked up.

“So good,” You manage,” Want you to feel good, too. I don’t-”

A soft gasp then, when his cock nudges against a place his fingers found, “It’s hard for me to come like this, but I want you-”

He hums, with a hint of a smile. Those strong hands angling your hips up another fraction. The next thrust sending his cock directly against that spot.

Your cry is loud, wrenched from you. Heavy-lidded eyes widening with how he feels inside you, reaching for him when he arcs down to press his mouth to yours.

“You let me worry about that.” He tells you, as a hand leaves your waist, drifting downward, “Just relax, sweetheart.”

It’s hard to relax when you feel strung-tight. Clenching around him as his finger rub circles against your clit with each rock of his hips.

You’d always thought he had a good memory - the way he’d ask after your animals, the crops you were growing - and he proved it now. Calling back to the night before, when he had been watching.

Learning just what made your hips lift, your toes curl. The warmth that pools in you accelerated with the way you take him in - the soft pull of his brow of concentration, those lips parted with his own harsh breath.

Another urge to pull his shirt from him, so you can see every inch - the breadth of his chest, almost as if you could see the way his heart races beneath.

It’s too much.

His name a soft chant as the pressure builds and builds. Losing their shape, as you find yourself on the brink.

“Oh-” It almost sounds surprised, when it slips from you. A panting gasp, as he smiles, “Harvey, don’t stop. I’m gonna-”

His eyes darken, “That’s a good girl. Let me feel you.”

You clench around him, with a soundless gasp. Heart fluttering behind your ribs, as his fingers press just a little harder.

“You like it when I call you that?” Harvey husks, “My good girl?”

“Fuck-”

You’re coming before you can answer. His touch, his praise snapping that strung-tight thread inside you. The harsh sound of your breath turning into a dull ringing in your ears, as Harvey feels how you pulse around him.

The hand on your hip pinches tight. Lips parted as he groans at how tight you are - how your release coats his cock, the wet sound of you taking him growing louder.

Bringing him right along with you, just as you start to come down.

“Want you to come in me,” You manage, as you roll your hips to meet his thrusts.

Harvey’s answering hum is closer to a growl. Low and rough - his pretty eyes blown wide with need. That steady rhythm short and turning sloppy, as his head tips back.

His own murmured curse, as he does as he is told. A moan ripped from him as he follows - grinding himself deep as he comes. Throbbing inside you, each shallow thrust spilling more of him against your walls.

Leaving him breathless, just as you are. His look dazed when his head lowers, the curl of his lips when you’re already watching with a soft smile of your own.

You miss him when he leaves you. A low hiss as you find yourself empty, the bed dipping as he lies down next to you.

A breath before your mouths are meeting. Soft swallowed sounds as your hands drift across his chest. As his own trace over your curves, down further when he feels you sigh into his mouth.

Gentle, as they slip between your thighs again. Tracing your seam - his fingers slick with his release, when he begins to touch you again.

The moan that slips from your lips is ragged, the words panted out.

“Harvey,” You gasp, as his fingers circle, “I’ve- I’ve come enough, you don’t-”

Harvey silences you with another kiss, sharing a breath as you sigh into his mouth. His voice dropping with a soft command.

“I think I’ll be the judge of that, sweetheart.”

The coffee grows cold.

Harvey smiles the whole way home.

Still stuck on the morning, the drawn-out goodbye that followed him from the bedroom, to the kitchen, to the porch.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” You had leaned against the doorframe - your smile sweet and lopsided. Almost as if still dazed, a feeling that was mirrored in his own chest.

It makes him feel brave. There’s a degree of confidence, in his abilities. It hasn’t been so long that he’s forgotten.

But feelings - feelings are something else. It took weeks of flirting and a sizable shove from Elliot to get him moving.

He doesn’t want to mess this up.

Harvey calls you, as the clinic door shuts behind him. He’ll be late to the museum, but he’s sure Gunther will understand.

His breath catches, but you pick up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” He’s smiling again, “Uh, I made it. Home, I mean.”

You laugh and it makes his heart flip, “Good. I was worried about you.”

“Right. Easy to get lost,” He sags against the counter, fingers clutched around the phone. A second, as he inhaled - gathering up his courage.

“Uh, listen. I’d like to see you again. Would that be alright?”

There’s the briefest pause, and it feels like time stops with it.

“Yeah.” Your smile bleeds into your words, “I’d really like that, Harvey.”

His name sounds nice, on your lips. Not Doctor, just him.

Almost too caught up to catch your teasing, “I need to get you your book back, after all.”

“Oh.” He flushes, remembering how it had been abandoned the night before. Forgotten, in the swirl of the morning, “I am so sorry. I completely forgot-”

Your answering laugh is so sweet, that his worry fades. Voice softening, as you ask,“Can I stop by at lunch?”

His answer is easy.

“I would love that.”

And as he climbs the stairs to his apartment, he finds himself thinking…

He could get used to this, too.

thank you so much for reading! 💖 was so excited to do a little part 2 for this fic!

#sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey x farmer #stardew valley Harvey x reader #sdv harvey imagine #stardew valley smut #sdv harvey

978 notes · View notes

drabblesandsnippets · 5 months ago

Text

The Prize

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 11

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Prompt: “You look good like this.”| [Kneeling | Tied Down | Ruined] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (9.7k) Bucky and his girlfriend try out their new sex swing, purchased after The Bet. This is a standalone fic and is mostly just pure smut, y’all.

A/N: This is my first fic after my hiatus, and it kind of got away from me 😂 Huge shoutout and thanks to @thinking1bee - without her support and encouraging comments, I'm not sure I would have finished this! Any and all mistakes are my own.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Fluff. Established relationship. Pet names (doll, sweetheart, baby). Brief mention of insecurities. Enthusiastic consent. Praise. Dirty talk. Slight verbal degradation. Masturbation (m). Multiple orgasms (both). Oral (both receiving). Rimming (f). Sex toys (including anal). Cum as lube. Fingering (almost fisting?). Squirting. (Unprotected) PiV. Aftercare.

“Tell me again,” Bucky says, cradling his girlfriend’s face, searching for any hint of hesitation or reluctance. They’re standing in their bedroom, stripped down to their underwear, the soft glow of the lamp providing more than enough light for them to see each other, her bright eyes staring up at him.

The thought of being so vulnerable and exposed definitely gave her pause at first, but Bucky’s been building anticipation, counting down the days since she ‘lost’ the bet, whispering all the dirty things he’s going to do to her.

By the time the sex swing arrived a couple of days ago, her excitement matched his, especially after a quick test of it yesterday, with her clothes on - all of which he promptly ripped off as soon as he helped her down, taking her hard and fast at the edge of the bed.

“I want this,” she tells him with an excited nod of her head, her slightly trembling hands resting against his chest, drawing comfort from the strong beat of his heart. Despite her lingering nerves from years of insecurities, her voice is steady, repeating the same promises she’s been making - she’s not doing this just because he wants her to, and she knows, without a doubt, she can stop at any moment and he won’t be disappointed.

That’s the most important part of all of this to Bucky - her enthusiastic consent. Without it, he wouldn’t have the courage to even attempt this. She’s going to be completely at his mercy, and even though he’s always been able to easily overpower her, this is different. This isn’t holding her down with his weight or grabbing her hair to keep her in place.

She’s going to be in a position that she won’t be able to get out of, one he could easily leave her in or take advantage of if he so chose. He’ll never understand how she’s able to put this much trust in him, but he’ll never take it for granted. All Bucky wants to do is take care of her, bring her all the pleasure she can handle, watch her become a beautiful mess for him.

With the patience and tenderness only she evokes, he removes the last of her clothing, kissing every bit of newly exposed skin, bypassing her most intimate parts. By the time he’s guiding her to the swing, she’s relaxed in his embrace, eager to follow his lead.

Bucky’s never failed to make her feel like the hottest woman in existence, and this is no exception. Allowing him to help her into the swing, she lays back, her upper body fully supported as he tenderly secures her limbs. For now, her arms rest by her head, her hands through the loops as he positions her knees back, the leather straps around her ankles keeping her spread for him.

One look at her and he’s letting out a soft curse, his hungry eyes roaming every inch of her on display, not giving her insecurities a chance to resurface. “You look so good like this, doll.” Better than anything he imagined. And before they go any further, he needs her to remember it for the rest of the night.

Quickly shredding his underwear, Bucky’s cock springs free, hard and glistening with precum from just the sight of her naked and waiting for him. Never taking his eyes off of her, he swipes a generous amount of spit from his mouth and wraps his hand around his shaft, giving himself a few slow, firm strokes to get himself slick.

Mesmerized, her skin grows warm as she watches Bucky pleasure himself, the initial thought that he was already going to fuck her soon replaced by the realization of what’s happening. Proving, once again, how much he wants her, how much she turns him on just by simply existing.

Already breathing heavily, arousal coursing through her veins, she grips the padded chains by her hands and whispers his name, the need for him to touch her evident in her voice. With a slow shake of his head, Bucky gives her that smile that’s been making her weak in the knees since the day she met him.

“Just wanna look at you first,” he tells her, the movement of his hand never ceasing, “I think you forget how much I enjoy just watching you.”

Stepping closer, finding his rightful place between her thighs, Bucky starts stroking his cock faster, barely inches from her inviting pussy, resisting the urge to bury himself inside of her. Between shuddering gasps, he keeps talking, praising her, highlighting all the things he loves about her body, his gaze settling on each spot as she squirms helplessly.

She has half a mind to try to pull her hands free to reach out for him, desperate for more, Bucky’s actions driving her wild. She’s just as eager to see where this is going though, unable to look away as the telltale signs of his impending orgasm start to play out across his features. The tension building in his shoulders, the furrowing of his brow, the delicious noises leaving his parted lips.

“So damn hot, baby,” he growls, drawing another unabashed whimper from her, her own breathy moans increasing right along with his. “I’m not even thinking about all the things I’m gonna do to you and you already have me so fucking close.”

“Oh god,” she breathes, her walls clenching around nothing, her thighs trembling with need. She’s so wet for him, each pass of his hand along his thick cock fueling the lust trying to consume her.

Bucky’s pleasure has always turned her on, but this is a whole new level, the sight of him working himself towards an orgasm all because of her naked body has her on the edge of begging for his touch. He doesn’t give her a chance though, his rough voice suddenly demanding more.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You,” she exhales sharply, barely letting him finish the question, lifting up from the headrest to get a better look, letting her gaze travel from his flushed face down to his hand moving faster, his strokes focusing on his engorged head, the tip leaking a steady flow of precum.

“Tell me. Tell me you’re mine,” he orders, desperate to hear the words from the woman he loves more than he ever thought he was capable of. She’s more than he could ever deserve, and watching her be so vulnerable for him has him aching to be reminded how much she loves him.

“I’m yours,” she promises, nodding her head, tearing her eyes away from his cock to meet his gaze once again, his intense stare sending a strong surge of pleasure straight to her clit.

A moment that started off just about her has gratefully shifted to a mutual need of assurance and the words spill out of her without any more prompting, “I love you, I love you so much.”

That’s all Bucky needs before he’s letting go with a gasp of her name, followed by a string of curses as hot spurts of his release paint her inner thigh, his vibranium hand gripping the sturdy chain connected to her ankle. It has her panting, the physical sensations caused by the pleasure overwhelming him leaving her dizzy with need, her hands tugging harder at the straps in hopes of grounding herself.

The instant his lungs fill with much needed oxygen, he utters words of love and admiration for her, using every bit of restraint to keep from touching her for now. He plans to give her everything she can handle tonight, but there’s no rush as he comes down, wanting to take his time to explore every delectable inch of her.

With everything they could possibly need laid out at the foot of the bed, Bucky reaches for the damp washcloth and brings it to her skin, cleaning her up with slow, smooth movements, making a mental note to do this again when he can take a picture of her covered with his seed, the promising image causing his cock to twitch.

Once she’s free of his mark, he tosses the washcloth and finally takes pity on her, his hands following the earlier path his eyes had taken, caressing parts of her that he’ll never get enough of. Her kissable lips. Her neck, the perfect size to wrap his hand around. Her strong arms. Her beautiful tits and pebbled nipples. Her soft belly, the way it moves under his touch. Her thick, sensitive thighs that were made to squeeze him.

By the time he’s dragging the back of his fingers closer to her pussy, she’s trembling, writhing and whimpering, her breaths quick and uneven. Her responses are addicting, driving him to continue teasing her, his fingertips ghosting over her mound before moving back up, bypassing all her ticklish spots until he’s back to her breasts, cupping them in his large hands.

“Yes, please,” she moans, the slight arch of her back giving him better leverage to pinch her nipples, his fingers playfully tugging them, making her body sway in the swing.

“Oh, look at that,” he murmurs, his voice barely reaching her ears as he repeats the action, the movement of her body bringing her closer to his, letting her feel his growing erection. “We’re gonna have so much fun tonight, sweetheart.”

She’s quick to nod in agreement, not giving him any reason to slow down or stop, waiting with baited breath as goosebumps cover her skin. He’s barely touched her and she’s on edge, her body wound tight, longing for him to do everything he’s been promising for weeks now.

As if reading her mind - or just knowing her as well as he does - one last pull of her nipples and he’s leaning over, crashing his lips on hers, his tongue quickly seeking entrance to deepen the kiss. It sets her off, her hands gripping her binds harder, trying to grind herself against him as she welcomes his mouth on hers.

Bucky doesn’t stop her, moving his hands to the chains to steady himself, allowing her to bring herself pleasure with his body, his hard cock trapped against her ass. Trailing kisses down her neck, biting all the sensitive spots along the way, he makes his way to her heaving chest, capturing her nipple in his mouth, scraping the erect bud with his teeth.

Her needy whines only encourage him to continue with his pace, giving both nipples equal attention, his own hips thrusting gently in time with hers. The need to worship every inch of her has Bucky leaving her breasts as soon as she’s shuddering underneath him, pleading for more, and he works his mouth lower, over her stomach, peppering kisses along her soft rolls and pretty stretch marks.

She’s barely able to focus, her breathing out of control, Bucky reducing her to a whimpering mess, overwhelmed by the loss of his body heat against her pussy. He doesn’t make her wait long, taking the time to angle her into a lower position, giving her a wicked smile the entire time, hinting at what’s to come.

And then she’s shaking with anticipation, watching him kneel between her thighs, his head at the optimal height to return his lips to her body, kissing her inner thighs, nibbling a path towards her pussy.

Expecting Bucky to keep teasing her, the sudden swipe of his tongue along her slick slit has her gasping out his name, wantonly begging him not to stop. She can already feel the pressure building, all of his earlier attention pushing her close to the edge, and now the slow lapping of his tongue tasting every inch of her is enough to have her thighs tensing all over again.

His senses are flooded by her, inhaling the heady scent of her arousal, burying his face between her thighs to fuck her with his tongue, devouring every last bit of her he can while his hands grip her thighs to grind her against his mouth. She’s his favorite meal, enjoying every second he gets to spend right here, his nose pressed against her clit as she chases her pleasure.

Her first orgasm hits her like a force, leaving her breathless, each surge causing her hips to buck against him, the firm hold of her thighs coupled with the binds around her limbs intensifying everything. Bucky gives her no time to relax, spreading her open with his fingers to close his mouth over her clit, moaning at the pulse of the aftershocks still overtaking her.

It’s almost too much, but he’s an expert at her body, knowing exactly how to build her up without pushing her too fast, the pad of his finger teasing her entrance. She’s quick to tell him yes, his muffled growl of approval vibrating against her, letting her welcoming pussy envelope his finger, filling her in one smooth motion.

If Bucky wasn’t so intent on making her come again, he’d praise her, tell her how good she feels, how hard he is from the taste of her. There will be plenty of time for that later, for now he increases the pressure, swirling his tongue over her swollen clit as he crooks his finger inside of her, eager to get her there as quickly as possible.

It doesn’t take long, a few strokes of his thick finger and she’s gone, crying out his name, her hands pulling hard at the straps. He helps her ride out the waves, prolonging her pleasure until it starts to shift into pain, then carefully brings her back down to reality, murmuring soft words of praise he’s not even sure she’s processing yet.

She’s not, but she’s grateful for them, letting out a light groan when Bucky readjusts her again, giving her a chance to stretch her legs, her ankles remaining bound. All the insecurities she thought would still be plaguing her are long gone, allowing Bucky to do with her as he pleases, trusting him to take care of her.

He’s never disappointed her, not when it comes to this, and she gives him a lazy smile as he places a bottle of water in front of her, guiding the straw to her mouth to let her drink as much as she needs. Once he’s satisfied she’s ready to keep going, he readjusts her until she’s laying flat, her arms pulled down to her sides.

She already knows what’s coming, turning her head to look at him as he walks around her, his hard cock making her salivate. There’s nothing she wants more than to bring him as much pleasure as he’s brought her, eagerly opening her mouth, her tongue shamelessly sticking out to greet him.

Bucky’s so proud of her, and wastes no time in telling her, one hand on the back of her head to hold her still, “You’re doing so good, baby.” The moment their eyes meet, his hips jut forward, smearing a drop of precum along the flat of her tongue, an obvious ripple of pleasure rushing over her at the taste of him.

It’s nearly enough to have him losing control, but he takes a steadying breath and instructs her, “Stay just like that for me, let me feel you.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, relaxing her jaw as he finds a shallow rhythm, pushing into her mouth, dragging the head of his cock over her tongue. Fighting the urge to touch him, her binds not providing much leverage anyway, all she can do is lay here for him, letting Bucky use her body, his vibranium hand lifted to hold onto the chain.

The first time he fucked her mouth, she was in complete control, hovering over him, one hand wrapped around his cock so he couldn’t go too deep. He came so fast, and afterwards, she was so turned on, he made her ride his face until she collapsed from exhaustion. Since then, she’s gone out of her way to prove how much she loves sucking his cock, each time encouraging him to take over, set the pace, take his pleasure from her.

It turns her on as much as everything else about him, and even though she wants all the attention to be on him right now, she doesn’t mind when his hand returns to her body, his long fingers wrapping around her throat before sliding lower, scratching his blunt nails between her breasts.

She’s so focused on the feel of his thick cock stretching her mouth, Bucky taking his time to work up to a faster pace, that she doesn’t even realize there’s a toy in his hand, the looped handle of the vibrator resting on his thumb. The only warning that comes is the faint click and soft buzzing, his hips pausing as the vibrations come into contact with her nipple.

Her loud moans only increase when he starts moving again, fucking her mouth deeper, forcing her to breathe out of her nose as her lips close around him. Careful not to take it too far, he splits his attention between her face and her body, slipping the vibrator down to tease between her thighs, the momentary tensing lasting for barely a second until she’s relaxing for him.

“Good girl,” he breathes, taking hold of the back of her head with his metal hand to steady her in order to bring them both as much pleasure as he can, pressing the toy harder against her clit. “Taking my cock so well, like you were made for me, ya know that?”

His words have the desired effect and she whines around his cock, wanting him closer, desperate for him to go faster, each thrust of his hips making her entire body tingle. There’s nothing like this feeling, being completely at his mercy, helpless to do anything but take what he’s giving her, the vulnerability of it all sending her further towards the peak.

Taking the hint, Bucky speeds up, groaning at the tight heat of her throat surrounding him, the sound of her gagging triggering his primal side. The side she empowers him to explore in the safety of their relationship.

“That’s it,” he grunts, his palm holding the toy against her, rubbing her clit in a familiar rhythm, his fingertips dipping between her folds to tease her entrance. “You love choking on my cock, don’t ya, sweetheart?”

Her answer is another exquisite gag around his sensitive head and he pulls back long enough to let her take a deep breath, then he’s resuming the pace, telling her, “Gonna keep fucking this perfect mouth until you come for me again.”

It’s going to happen, the familiar tingle building, the strong vibrations pulsing through her sensitive clit making her see stars. She’s enjoying herself too much to just let go yet, welcoming several more thrusts of his cock, the few tears spilling down her cheeks mixing with her saliva as he fucks her throat.

Bucky knows what she’s doing, and as much as he loves when she communicates what she wants, he’s more than happy to help her remember she’s not in control tonight. With an impatient growl, he tightens his grip on her head, and pushes himself deeper, forcing her throat to tense around his cock. “Ya gotta come baby, or I'm not gonna stop.”

The tension spreads to the rest of her body, leaving no doubt that this is exactly what she wants, the roughness of his actions pushing her into another earth-shattering orgasm. He pulls out at the last second, almost coming himself, a string of saliva connecting them for a brief moment as she cries out from the onslaught of pleasure overloading her senses.

Bucky's quick to comfort her, crouching down to talk her through it, his hands stroking across her belly, the toy tossed aside. “I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. You did so good for me. I love you so much.”

She can’t speak; she’s barely able to string a coherent thought together, her body trembling and her heart racing, pleasure still coursing through her. Bucky's presence, as always, soothes her, allows her to come down at her own pace without thinking about what’s coming next.

Her only priority is to bask in the experience he's providing her, his constant touch keeping her present, reminding her there's no rush. He finds pleasure in taking care of her, in whatever form that takes.

When the aftershocks fade, and she starts to come back to him, only then does he move, taking the time to clean her up, wiping away all evidence of her enthusiastic blowjob, Bucky murmuring more words of praise and appreciation.

Another sip of much-needed water and she finds her barings, her words slowly returning to her so she can voice her own gratitude. He might have trouble believing it, but he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her and she’ll take every opportunity to remind him.

Bucky’s soft smile conveys more than he’s capable of vocalizing, and it’s more than enough for her, his silence never bothering her. Smiling adoringly up at him, she watches him walk around her suspended body, his fingers trailing over her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, reigniting the flames of her arousal.

Despite all the pleasure he’s already brought her, her body craves more, desperate to feel him, to have him quell the ache building inside of her, in the way only he can. An exhale of his name, followed by a soft, breathless whisper of ‘please’ and he’s touching more of her, his unhurried actions speaking before he does, causing her to shift and let out a needy whine.

“Shh,” Bucky soothes, kissing his way up her body until he’s leaning over her, his metal hand gripping one of the chains to steady himself, his lips seeking out hers. She barely lets him kiss her, her tongue teasing over his before she’s turning her head to repeat herself, her warm breath ghosting over his ear, reinforcing how much she needs him to fuck her.

He almost throws caution to the wind, sliding his hand down to grip her hip and pull her pliant body against his, her hot, slick sex inviting him to bury himself inside of her. It’s all he wants, to lose himself in her, to give her everything she could possibly ask for. It just isn’t an option right now.

Encouraging her to grind against him, he nuzzles her cheek, breathing heavily as he murmurs, “I know, baby, I know.” It pains him to make her wait, her yearning pleas nearly breaking him, his own body fighting for control, his cock throbbing against her ass, leaking precum.

Somehow finding the resolve to resist her, Bucky maintains contact, guiding her movements against him, his ears trained on her uneven breathes as he tells her, “I’m gonna fuck you, sweetheart, I promise, but I need you to give me a minute, okay?”

Interrupting her before she can start to argue, he pulls back to meet her gaze, giving her an affectionate smile, trying to ease her worry. “You’re doing so good for me,” he assures her, twinges of a playful grin creeping up when she lets out an exasperated sigh, her brow furrowing with uncertainty.

“You are, doll,” he says, dipping his head to kiss her neck, relishing the sounds he brings out of her with a simple touch. “In fact, you were so good you almost made me come down your throat.”

Her body reacts to his words, her hips lifting to seek more friction, shamelessly grinding herself against his pelvis, her hands tugging hard at her binds. “Oh god,” she breathes, “Bucky, please.” She's so turned on, her wetness seeping down between her ass cheeks, her tense thighs shaking with anticipation, unable to focus on anything except how empty she feels.

The next words out of his mouth do nothing to alleviate the burning desire threatening to make her lose her mind, Bucky growling, “Your mouth felt so good, baby, you were so fucking perfect.” Almost on the verge of tears, her hips buck, his next confession only adding to her desperation, “So, as much as I wanna be buried inside you, if I were to start fucking you right now, it’d be over a lot quicker than I’d like to admit.”

Giving her no chance to object, his metal hand cradles her head, pulling her into a passionate kiss, his tongue demanding entrance. She’s quick to comply, understanding flowing between them, Bucky’s fear of disappointing her evident, causing her to finally relent, trusting him to take care of her.

There might not be anything else that can truly scratch this particular itch, but that doesn’t mean they can’t have fun trying, Bucky wasting no time in making a short trip to the bed to grab a toy. On his way back, he brings the ottoman, grinning at her as he takes a seat right between her spread thighs, his shoulders level with her body, giving him access to every single inch of her.

A flush spreads across her skin, her body angled enough to let her watch Bucky settle in for the show, the curved vibrator already turned on and teasing along the back of her thigh. He’s giving her time to withdraw her consent, as if that’s even an option for her right now, her entire body on edge, waiting for him to take pity on her.

If it were any other time, this might be too much, her insecurities whispering in the back of her mind, attempting to ruin the moment. It wouldn’t be the first time, and Bucky would gladly help her through it, never shying away from telling her how hot she is, how he can never get enough of her.

It’s not necessary this time, no matter how vulnerable and on display she feels, Bucky’s metal hand stroking along her belly, causing her to sway towards him. Whatever he’s planning, she’ll accept without hesitation, wanting nothing more than to be completely at his mercy.

It doesn’t take long, Bucky ducking his head to follow the trail of the vibrations, nipping and licking a path to her dripping pussy, leaving her panting for more. And the moment she’s nodding her head, whispering, “yes, please, oh god,” in a rush of a heavy exhale, he’s sliding the tip of the toy through her wetness, rewarding her.

“Good girl,” he praises, his words muffled against a particularly sensitive spot of her thigh, her appreciative whine only growing when he presses against her soaked entrance, telling him everything he needs to know. And now that Bucky’s here, the toy meeting no resistance, he can’t resist surging forward, refusing to tease her anymore, filling her as his teeth sink into the flesh of her trembling thigh.

The exquisite pleasure has her crying out, her knuckles turning white from her strained grip on the padded chains, Bucky’s vibranium hand firmly pressed against her stomach to keep her in place as he starts to fuck her with hard, deep strokes.

Her bound ankles give her no leverage, increasing the helpless feeling, and she falls headfirst into it, each thrust eliciting another noise of pleasure, every breathy utterance growing more incoherent. Her entire focus is narrowed down to him and the indescribable pleasure he’s bringing her, Bucky perfecting the speed and rhythm to have the pressure building almost too quickly.

No part of her feels compelled to fight it, her head thrown back, eyes shut tight, her heart pounding in her ears as she welcomes everything he gives her. Bucky proving once again he can read her body like an open book, each subtle gasp or slight tension guiding him to keep the toy hitting that spot deep inside of her that makes her lose her breath.

“That’s it,” he grunts, his feet finding purchase against the carpet as he grabs hold of her soft stomach, swinging her body in time with his thrusts, her wetness coating his hand, the beautiful sight causing his cock to pulse. “Fuck. Love watching you like this. Want you to come again for me, can you do that, baby?”

The question triggers another mind-numbing orgasm, her muscles growing taut and her mouth opens in a silent scream, Bucky’s eyes trained on the incredible image, watching her lose control. All because of him. The hands that were once used as a weapon are now used to bring nothing but pleasure to the most important person in his life.

It’s nearly enough to have him coming right along with her, the emotion threatening to lock up his voice, forcing him to power through, needing her to hear his familiar stream of praise and love. He’ll never leave her wanting, not during such a time of need, Bucky’s only priority to keep her in that headspace she craves so much.

Where nothing exists but the two of them and the euphoria coursing through her, her mind forgetting everything else. All the normal worries and anxieties are long gone. Replaced by a tingly buzz, a high that she’s only ever chased with him.

Bucky’s far from done with her, his own need to feel her wrapped around him pushed to the side, instead focusing on grinding the toy deep inside of her, addicted to the way she reacts. Her body is still pulsing with aftershocks, her shuddering breaths signaling how far her limits are being pushed, her wrists tugging at her binds, and other than her soft, gasping whimpers, she makes no objections.

She’s not too far gone that she wouldn’t tell him to stop if she needed to, Bucky taking that as his signal to keep going, turning the vibrations up and angling the toy to rub hard along her front wall. It brings out the expected reaction, her eyes rolling back and her toes curling, her legs shaking uncontrollably.

“You’re so perfect, doll, ya know that?” Not waiting for an answer, he slides his left hand down between her thighs to apply pressure to her clit, a wave of pleasure washing over him to match the one causing her body to buck. “I swear you were made for me,” he continues, groaning when she starts to squirt for him. “I’ll never get enough of you. Not in a million fucking years.”

She loses track of everything except the overwhelming pressure building, Bucky’s vibranium palm pressed against her clit almost too much, the tension in her lower stomach on the verge of causing cramps. Bucky’s barely moving the toy, but each hard grind against her g-spot is making her squirt, another orgasm soon to come barreling down on her.

It feels too soon, her body practically still recovering from the last one, and it’s not long before she’s whispering his name, her head lolling on the headrest, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. No change in pace comes, Bucky softly shushing her, telling her, “It’s okay, baby, you’re doing so good for me. Wanna watch you come one more time, can you do that for me?”

Incapable of nodding her head, she whines his name, followed by the soft whisper of ‘yes’, the word barely audible. There’s no doubt Bucky hears her, his head dipping to kiss the back of her thigh, muttering more praise and affirmations in response, encouraging her to let go, to let him witness her fall apart one more time.

“As soon as you do, I‘m gonna fuck you sweetheart,” he promises, a grin spreading across his features when she resumes her grip on the chains, seeing the desperation clearly fueling her actions. His consistent movements never cease, using the toy to drive her higher, providing her with exactly what he knows will push her over the edge. “That’s right, baby. All ya gotta do is come for me, show me how much you want my cock buried inside this perfect pussy.”

A few more controlled thrusts and she has no choice but to give in, her back arching as the intense orgasm takes control, sparks of electric pleasure radiating from her core. Bucky works her through it, quickly standing up, kicking the ottoman out of the way in order to reach higher up her body, holding onto her forearm while he slowly fucks through each wave with the toy, stopping only once he’s sure she’s had enough.

It takes her longer to recover this time, Bucky taking the time to work out any kinks in her muscles, letting her stretch her limbs within the confines of her binds. He’s going to keep his word, planning to fuck her until she’s completely satiated. But, first he has to ensure he hasn’t pushed her too hard, using the opportunity to wipe away the sweat glistening on her skin and give them both more water.

As grateful as she is for the pause, she’s more than eager to keep going, ready to hold him to his promise. There’s no need for more begging - a momentary interlude so Bucky can readjust her position and then he’s exactly where he belongs, his hard cock perfectly aligned with her swollen pussy.

The determined look on his face speaks volumes, coaxing her further into submission, her limbs relaxed, her breathing slow and even. There’s no rushing him, Bucky’s hands caressing her everywhere, languid movements across her skin, fingertips ghosting over her nipples, palms stroking down her torso.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his gaze settling on hers, an ardent smile lighting up his face. “I’m so grateful to call you mine.”

Words fail her, warmth spreading across her skin, his praise stirring up a smile of her own, conveying how much she loves and appreciates him. Nothing will ever compare to the connection they share, the incredible, undeniable physical chemistry that flows between them.

They’re compatible in all the ways that matter, understanding each other on a level neither ever thought they’d have the privilege of experiencing. It allows them both to be present, her submissive nature enticing Bucky to fully embrace the power of being in complete control of the woman he’s going to spend the rest of his life with.

Hooking her right leg over his vibranium arm, he takes hold of his thick shaft with his free hand and guides the tip of his cock to her slit, teasing her with slow movements, gathering her wetness as he listens to her breath hitch. She’s unable to stop the subconscious shifting of her hips, or the trembling of her thighs, but her arms remain slack, her trusting gaze causing his own heart to flutter.

His mind stays clear, intent on making this an unforgettable first time in their new swing, and as he slips just the head of his cock into her welcoming pussy, he lets out a heavy breath, asking her, “Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” A lazy nod of her head and he’s following up with, “Yeah? Gonna let me fuck this pussy however I want, baby?”

Managing to verbalize her consent, she whispers a soft, “please” and offers another nod, her eyes fluttering as his cock starts to fill her, Bucky fucking her with just the first inch. When she makes no other attempt to move, her supported body relaxed, he’s reached his limit, finally giving in to the intense need to have her wrapped around him.

Without warning, he hooks her other leg over his right arm and slams home, burying himself balls-deep in one swift movement, the tight, wet heat of her pussy nearly sending him spiraling out of control. Her reaction does little to help him maintain that control, her head thrown back, her strangled cry shooting pleasure straight up his spine, and for a brief moment, all he can do is grip the top of her thighs, grinding hard against her.

“Fuck,” he exhales, quickly shaking his head to gather his composure. “You feel so good, doll, wanna stay inside you forever.” He’ll definitely come if he does and slowly retreats, pulling his hips back until just the head of his cock rests within her, her walls pulsing in an attempt to lure him back.

Bucky sets an agonizingly slow pace, pausing long enough to allow her to relax, then thrusting forward, filling her, the intoxicating noises spilling out of her spurring him on. Her breathless whines, her needy whimpers, her shuddering pleas as she starts to beg him to fuck her faster each time he bottoms out. It’s too addicting to ignore, pushing him to draw more sounds out of her.

Her crying chants of “please” get louder each time he withdraws, Bucky torturously dragging his cock along her slick walls, teasing her with possibilities, only to keep the same pace, giving her no reprieve. Behind the tingling promise of pleasure, the building frustration starts to grow to unbearable heights, her brow furrowing, her fingers tightening their hold on her binds, tears pricking her eyes.

On the next thrust, his loud groan of pleasure reaching her ears, her endless begging turns to crying, the shake of her head telling him she’s reached her limit before she can even get the words out. “I can’t… Bucky… please, I can’t.”

“Shh,” he whispers, providing comfort with his touch, caressing the back of her thighs, encouraging her to ease her legs back. “I know, baby, you’re doing so good, just relax for me.”

The temptation to challenge him dies on her tongue and she flops her head back, begrudgingly giving in to his request, grateful to at least still have him buried deep inside of her. Not wanting to give him a reason to change his plans, she patiently watches him reach forward to readjust the chains once again, her skin flushing as he supplies a steady stream of praise.

The new position has her upper body slightly elevated, and soon he’s guiding her feet, placing them flat against his chest, offering her leverage for what feels like the first time all night. She knows better than to start moving, and the delighted grin suddenly gracing his face tells her she’s choosing the right option.

“Oh, good girl,” he growls, his hips twitching, pulling more moans out of both of them. “I’m so fucking proud of you, baby. Now, do me a favor and push against me.”

She obeys immediately, following his instructions until just the head of his cock rests inside of her, pausing without needing to be told, eagerly awaiting his next command. There’s no relaxing at this point, her unfurled legs tense with anticipation, her hands wrapped around the chains, her feet trembling against Bucky’s solid chest.

“That’s it,” he nods, gripping her ankles right below her binds, holding her tight against him, “fuck, you’re perfect.” A quiet second to appreciate the breathtaking vision laid out before him, steeling himself for what’s to come, and then he’s ordering her to drop, his resolve almost crumbling when she complies without hesitation, impaling herself on his cock.

The wide-eyed, hopeful look on her face does wonders for his ego, as does her familiar cry of pleasure filling his ears, Bucky’s body already aching to take over, fuck her until she’s screaming for him. He wants this more though, to watch her pleasure herself, to prove how much she wants him before he takes back control.

A short pause, unable to resist teasing her for just a moment longer, and then he’s nodding his head, giving her permission, planting his feet for stability as she starts to move, pushing against his chest. This time, she leaves almost half of his length inside of her before she’s dropping again, using the momentum of her swinging body to fuck herself.

“Oh shit, look at you,” Bucky grunts, his gaze torn between her gorgeous curves and his cock disappearing over and over, evidence of her arousal coating his shaft. “My desperate, needy girl. Taking my cock so well. Feels so fucking good, baby.”

His words spur her on, the powerful exhilaration coursing through her driving her to pick up speed, intent on bringing them both as much pleasure as possible. Incoherent words escape between heavy grunts, her body swaying in time with her thrusts, her eyes locked on Bucky’s intense, lust-filled stare.

The vulnerability she feels from Bucky watching every single inch of her - her jiggling thighs and tummy, her bouncing tits, her straining arms - would usually be enough to have her wanting to hide parts of herself, but tonight it triggers something else inside of her. A strange bout of confidence that has her moaning his name, professing her love for him as she works her body to its limit.

Bucky’s own moan blends with hers, his fingers digging into her ankles as he lets out a breathless grunt of her name. “Fuck, I love you, so fucking much.” The obvious tension in her legs grows and soon he’s letting out another heavy breath to ask her, “Tell me what you need, baby, you need me to fuck you now? Show you just how much I love you?”

All he needs is a nod of her head and he’s taking over, grabbing her legs as her pussy flutters, her velvety walls encouraging his thrusts. Watching her intently, Bucky mirrors the rhythm she had just set, holding her calves against his shoulders in order to force her body to meet his pistoning hips, each stroke of his cock making her toes curl.

He can already feel his own orgasm building, his normal stamina being tested from sharing this new, profound experience with her, the sight of her completely at his mercy being seared into his brain. New fuel for his masturbatory fantasies for years to come.

Determined to feel her come first, Bucky keeps talking to her, telling her how hot she is, how much he loves fucking her, how incredible she feels wrapped around him. Reminding her that she’s his and he’s never letting her go. “Gonna get to keep fucking this pussy forever, sweetheart. Whenever I fucking want, won’t I?”

Her response comes out as a harsh whine, her agreement evident in the way she cries out his name, her body growing taut, his cock hitting that spot deep inside of her that’s sure to send her flying. All it takes is a few more powerful thrusts, Bucky telling her to let go, and she’s soaring, coming harder than she has all night, her pussy nearly pushing him out from the intense waves.

It proves too much for him, his hips faltering in his attempt to fuck her through it, Bucky managing to bury himself as deep as he can, trying to prolong her pleasure with short thrusts as she milks him dry. This wasn’t at all how he planned tonight to end, already craving to feel her come around him again, her trembling body inviting him to wrap her legs around his waist.

She welcomes the sudden weight of him, their mouths crashing together in a heated kiss, her bound limbs meeting resistance in her effort to cling to him, her brain practically mush, her body still pulsing with aftershocks. She’s not even aware she’s still moving against him, confusion settling in when his softening cock begins to slip out of her, the loss of their physical connection causing her to whimper against his lips.

Another hungry kiss and then he’s reassuring her, his voice rough with desire, “Oh, I’m not done with you yet, baby.” He doesn’t leave her empty for long, his hand sliding between their bodies to fill her with two fingers, her pussy slick with their combined fluids. “Oh fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts, leaning up to watch her, her back arching from the sudden pressure along her front wall.

He leaves her speechless again, her eyes rolling back, her hands trembling around the chains, his expert touch making it impossible to focus. Not that she needs to, Bucky talking her through it, his free hand sliding over her shuddering body, the smooth metal soon wrapping around her throat as he starts to fuck her harder.

“Love feeling you like this, doll,” he tells her, his heavy breaths matching hers, “your pussy full of my cum, and still desperate for more.” All she can do is nod her head, her words trapped in her throat, incoherent whines escaping with each thrust of his fingers. “Can’t get enough of me, can you, baby? Taking everything I give you like the good girl you are.”

Watching her closely, Bucky slowly adds his index finger, his three thick digits filling and stretching her, his leaking cum allowing him deep inside. She’s so tight, her walls clenching, her breaths turning to pants, but there’s no hint of reluctance, her gasps and whimpers telling him all he needs to know.

With his vibranium hand wrapped around her throat, his thumb pressed against her pulse point, he maintains a steady pace, witnessing all the telltale signs of how close he already has her to coming again. It’s exactly what he wants, to make her lose control, over and over again, until she can’t handle anymore.

Arousal already has his cock twitching again, her beautiful noises and unfiltered reactions triggering his need for more. To feel as much of her as he can. The slowing of his fingers has her eyes fluttering open, her mouth parting, her obvious discontent fading when she finds him smiling down at her.

His intentions become clear the moment his pinkie joins the rest of his slick fingers, the sudden tension rolling through her body giving him pause. But then she’s nodding her head, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she relaxes and Bucky starts slowly, sliding his fingers in centimeters at time, letting her adjust to the increasing fullness.

“That’s it,” he encourages her, “doing so good for me. Just breathe and let me in, baby.”

He’s in awe of her, how readily she gives herself to him, trusting him to take care of her, to never steer her wrong. It’s a responsibility he wasn’t sure he’d ever be comfortable taking on, and now he can’t ever imagine not having this with her. Owning every single part of her heart, mind, and body.

Her greedy pussy swallows his fingers up to his knuckles, Bucky refraining from pushing her limits any further, his slow, hard thrusts causing her to squirt and cry out his name. His hand tightens around her throat, holding her down against the swing and he growls her name in response, asking her, “Gonna come for me again, aren’t you, sweetheart? With my fingers fucking my cum back inside of you. Such a good fucking girl.”

She nearly passes out this time, her vision going white, her blood pounding in her ears, her breath caught in her lungs as her limbs go taut, pulling hard at her binds. She vaguely hears Bucky talking to her, no doubt praising her, telling her how much he loves, but she’s too far gone, her world spinning for several glorious seconds.

His firm touches bring her back to reality, the contrast of his metal hand on her soft, flushed skin eliciting a moan of pleasure, her noises only getting louder when he leaves her empty. There’s a soft whine from the loss of him, but it’s quickly replaced by one of excitement as she watches him wrap his cum-slick hand around his hard cock.

Even as he starts to stroke himself, he’s checking in with her, asking if she needs a break, gladly offering her the world. All she wants is him, her eyes drawn to his hand, the sight of him pleasuring himself again sending tingles spreading across her skin.

Once he’s sure she’s okay to keep going, he’s readjusting the chains with his left hand, lowering her upper body to level position and pushing her legs back so she’s spread wide. The entire time, he never stops touching himself and it drives her crazy with lust, wanting him back inside of her, her pussy pulsing with anticipation.

Bucky has other ideas though, giving her a playful wink before he’s crouching down to taste her, his tongue licking up their cum coating her swollen flesh, the same combination of fluids he’s using to to jerk himself off. It sends a shock of pleasure straight to his cock, the vibrations of his moan from the unique flavor making her twitch, almost overstimulated.

He takes pity on her, dragging the tip of his tongue through her folds, licking her from her sensitive clit, all the way down to her ass, his ears perking at her soft, breathy moans. He repeats the action, the flat of his tongue tasting every delicious inch of her, drawing more encouraging noises, the subtle signs telling him exactly what she’s craving.

Taking his time, Bucky’s attention hovers around her clit before dipping lower, placing open mouth kisses along each side of her spread pussy, then each supple cheek, working his way towards her puckered hole. One slow swirl of his tongue and she’s whispering his name, telling him yes, the simple word causing him to grip the base of his cock, pleasure shooting straight up his spine.

He probes her tight passage with the tip of his tongue, his metal fingers pressing against the top of her mound, holding her place, listening to her appreciative sounds getting louder. Her skin is already slick with her wetness, but Bucky adds more saliva, the increased lubrication allowing him to push deeper, his tongue spearing her ass with slow, teasing thrusts.

Using the swing to his advantage, his fingers dig into her flesh to pull her towards his mouth, essentially causing her to ride his tongue, his palm applying pressure to her clit. With the sounds she’s making, he briefly wonders if he can make her come like this, but then she’s arching her back, her legs tensing in an attempt to pull him deeper, her soft whimpering of ‘please’ changing his plans.

A break is warranted, Bucky taking just a minute to gather the necessary items, pausing once again to brush her hair out of her face and get her more comfortable. Returning to his rightful place between her thighs, he waits patiently for her to meet his gaze, her eager look enough to have him bringing the flared toy, already slick with copious amounts of lube, to rest between her ass cheeks.

Even though her need is written all over her face, Bucky requires more, telling her, “I need your words, sweetheart. Tell me you want this.” At first, all she can offer is a nod of her head, her voice seeming to fail her, her hips twitching, grinding against the tip of the toy.

He’s patient, sliding his left hand along her torso, fingers ghosting over her nipples, drawing heavier breaths out of her. Enticing her with a teasing probe, she finally exhales harshly, whispering, “Yes, please, fuck my ass.”

A smile spreads across his face and the praise of, “good girl” fills her ears as he presses the toy deeper, his careful movements only seeming to add to her desperation, her body craving more. Bucky doesn’t make her ask this time, his gaze meeting hers as he starts to fuck her slowly, sliding deeper with twisting motions, ensuring the lube provides smooth movements.

When his hand returns to her clit, she can already feel the familiar pressure building, each thrust driving her higher, her pussy pulsing, clenching around nothing, triggering the need to have him inside of her again. She doesn’t immediately vocalize it, her mind and body overwhelmed, her head pressing hard against the headrest, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

Bucky refuses to allow it though, recognizing the look on her face, forcing her to talk, asking her what she wants. It feels almost impossible to speak, the rhythm of the toy and his consistent touch against her clit sending sparks of pleasure throughout her entire body, and yet, through the haze of it all, she wants to please him.

Forcing the words out between shuddering breaths, she begs him to fuck her, Bucky’s response of, “I am fucking you, baby,” ripping a loud, desperate whine out of her.

“Please,” she manages, her thighs shaking, her nerves on edge, his feigned ignorance increasing her frustration.

A swipe of his thumb over her clit and then he’s dipping lower, circling her soaked entrance, her walls trying to draw him in. He resists the urge, instead sliding the toy deep inside her ass as he asks, “Is that what my dirty girl needs? To have both holes filled?” A pleading yes, and Bucky can’t resist continuing, “Yeah, baby? You need my cock in your tight pussy while this toy fucks your ass?”

The tears pricking her eyes break his resolve and he nods, his reverent touch moving back up her body, his fingers splayed across her chest as he steps forward, the head of his cock seeking out her entrance. Both hands grip her breasts and he presses forward, slipping deep inside her waiting pussy, his balls grinding the base of the toy resting in her ass.

Everything else falls away, Bucky’s focus lasered in on her, all his senses consumed by the ecstasy she brings, the feeling she evokes unlike anything he’s ever experienced. He’ll never get enough of her and as he starts to piston his hips, his hands cupping her large tits, pulling her body onto his cock, his only thought is to make her come again.

It doesn’t take long, Bucky angling his thrusts to grind hard against her gspot, his balls slapping against her ass, pressing the toy deep with each movement. Despite his own building pleasure, his words of praise come easy, his rough voice ordering her to come for him, his own desperation to feel her lose control pushing her over the edge, her bucking hips almost pushing him out.

A quick grab of her thighs and he’s forcing his cock to stay inside her spasming pussy, fucking her through the intense waves, his thrusts slowing, but never stopping. Bucky doesn’t give her a chance to come down from the onslaught of pleasure, keeping one arm around her quivering thigh, his other hand moves back to her clit, applying pressure as he tells her to give him one more.

She wants to - she wants to give him everything he asks for - but she’s reaching her limit, her body growing sore, sure to have her feeling the aftereffects of their session well into tomorrow. Her mouth opens to voice her uncertainty, the words, “I can’t” tumbling out even as Bucky starts to move faster, his heavy pants and grunts of pleasure making her squirt again.

He’s quick to disagree with her assessment, telling her, “Yes, you can. You’re gonna come all over my cock one more time, sweetheart, and then you know where I’m gonna come?”

There’s nothing else left for her to give, unable to focus long on anything other than the euphoria she’s chasing despite how tired she is. Bucky’s happy to keep talking to her even when she’s unable to respond, his words guiding her to where he needs her.

“As soon you come, I’m gonna tilt your head back and I’m gonna fuck your mouth, baby.” It’s nearly enough to make her lose control, her loud cry almost drowning out his next words, “Mmhmm, gonna fuck your mouth until I come down your throat.”

They’re both teetering on the edge of their final orgasms, Bucky’s voice rough with arousal, her fluttering walls inviting him to let go, to fill her once more with his seed. He holds back, his thrusts never ceasing, fucking her hard and fast, each movement grinding the toy deep in her ass, the exquisite noises she’s making telling him he’s on the right path.

“You love that idea, don’t ya, baby? Love taking my cock any way I give it to you, my beautiful, needy slut, just can’t get enough.”

A strangled cry and she comes for him, her tense limbs nearly breaking her binds, her back bowing, a loud scream of pleasure that pushes Bucky past his own limits. With a roar, he comes with her, the intensity blinding him, both hands now gripping her waist, forcing her onto his cock as he fucks them through it, trying to prolong everything for just a few moments longer.

Her tears of elation trigger his own, his lashes wet as he falls against her, the swing supporting his added weight, Bucky’s mouth seeking out hers. Making quick work of her binds, he’s soon guiding her limbs around his body, holding her tight against him, his cock still buried deep inside of her, her aftershocks soon causing him to slip out.

The loss is felt, but it’s easily overlooked, Bucky using the opportunity to tenderly remove the flared toy from her trembling body, soothing her with soft words and peppered kisses along her jaw. He’s rendered her speechless again, soft utterances of ‘oh my god’ and ‘holy shit’ escaping between her panting breaths.

He’s only slightly better off, eternally grateful for his enhanced abilities helping him recover quicker, allowing him to tend to her. He’ll stay exactly where he is, for however long she needs, murmuring sweet nothings and soft praises, thanking her for being his. For loving him, as flawed as he is.

Eventually they make it to the bathroom, Bucky effortlessly carrying her, assisting her with cleaning up, the relaxing spray of the shower bringing her fully back to him. They remain locked in an embrace, his arms refusing to let her go the entire time, holding her weakened body against his during their brief shower.

There’s more to do, messes to clean up, things to put away, but for now, all that matters is the satiated woman pressed against him. A newly familiar sense of peace envelops Bucky, the warmth of genuine happiness settling over him, giving him a slight reprieve from the lingering ghosts of his past.

He’ll never be able to fully convey how much she truly means to him, but he’ll sure as hell spend the rest of his life trying.

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

The Bet

Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist

Main Masterlist

403 notes · View notes

13atoms · 11 months ago

Text

Working Late (Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader)

Summary: After a busy few weeks, you spend a friday night in the office catching up on the never-ending pile of paperwork which appears whenever the team are whisked away on a case. To your surprise, a colleague decides to join you.

Contains: Fluff, very gentle friends-to-lovers, early seasons spencer, food | 2k words.

If you listened for long enough, you could hear the distant hum of the vending machine.

The office was empty. It was long past the time where other departments turned their lights off, and it became acceptable to sling your shoes off and pad around in socks. The BAU was in high demand lately, and it felt as though the last three cases had been back-to-back-to-back. You could hardly remember what your bed looked like, your apartment floor was covered in clothes from hastily repacking suitcases, and the thought of cleaning it up was enough to keep you in the office.

At 7:30pm, even the most dedicated of your colleagues had rightfully headed home to partners, or sports clubs, or kids. That only left you, and the team’s mountain of paperwork which only grew each time you headed out on a case.

I’ll work late tonight, catch up on everything, then crash for the whole weekend, you’d promised Garcia at lunch. In one breath, she’d claimed that was impressive, that everyone would love you forever for getting it done, and warned you to take care of yourself.

Sometimes it was hard to know how to. You felt dreadful being here, you'd feel worse if you went home, thinking about the work hanging over you. For a moment you lay with your head on your forearm, idly massaging out the headache that had started to form.

Dinner, you realised. You hadn’t eaten dinner. Maybe that was why you felt dreadful.

The temptation to just go home would be too strong if you went out to get it, so you headed for the drawer in the kitchen full of takeout menus.

While you were flicking through the pile for the least sticky menus, the elevator doors opened.

It was almost certainly security checking to see who was still up here, or a cleaner making their rounds. Nonetheless, with half the building dark, it was hard not to suddenly be on high alert. In socked feet, you tiptoed back along the corridor until you could see the doors, already sliding closed with the carriage empty.

You crept further forward, until you could see a man, hair slightly damp around his face and a satchel looped over his body. Reid. He was stood behind your desk, peering at the computer you had left on, as though he was confused.

“Evening,” you offered, pushing against the warm fondness you felt as he jolted away from your chair in surprise.

“The computer screens turn themselves off after five minutes of inactivity, and you never leave yours unlocked. I figured something must have happened.”

He was silent for a moment, his gaze drifting to your socked feet, then back to your face.

“Evening.”

“I just went to get menus,” you held them up limply, and Reid smiled.

“Have you not been home yet?”

“No, I can’t believe you’ve been home!”

“I actually went home early,” he admitted the fact as though he was embarrassed. You were fairly sure Hotch had shoved him out of the elevator doors.

“You’ve snuck back in, them?”

Finally you crossed the bullpen, sinking back into your office chair. Reid perched on the next desk over.

“Couldn’t settle – I figured I could get through everything quickly, save everyone the job…”

“Especially after we’re inevitably called in over the weekend, and all these cases feel like a lifetime ago.”

He smiled grimly.

“Exactly.”

For a moment it was silent, and you felt a little caught at Reid finding you in the office alone like this. Your headphones lay out on the desk, music blaring tinnily from them, and you felt your face grow warm as you reached across to turn the music off.

“So you’re getting food?” he hadn’t moved, gesturing at the menus.

“Yeah. Have you had dinner?”

“Not really. If you don’t mind me joining you…”

“Not at all,” you insisted, “please.”

He glanced over the options you’d laid out, over the three piles on your desk. You wondered how long ago he’d showered, his hair was straighter than usual with the weight of being damp. He was wearing one of his usual jumpers, but he must have put a t-shirt on underneath it. There was something odd about seeing him without a shirt collar. Some insight into what Spencer wore when he wanted to be comfortable, when he thought he wouldn’t be seen.

“I– Thank you. I don’t mind going out to get it?”

“I usually just order it in, and then get security call me down and accept it.”

Reid frowned, no doubt prepared to reel off dozens of stats about security risks.

“Is that allowed?”

“No one’s ever stopped me,” you shrugged, only to delight in Reid’s wide, nervous smile.

He’d never had the chance to be a naughty schoolboy, you’d often reflected, it was why he often seemed to look like he was being called into the principal’s office.

“So long as you make the call…”

“Don’t want to get in trouble?” you teased, and Spencer laughed.

“Absolutely not! That’s the last thing I need.”

“Well then, in that case I’m choosing Chinese. Pick something.”

You tossed him a menu, and he glanced it over before looking up to think. You’d never quite get over the way his mind worked.

Once the order was placed and Spencer had laughed over your stomach grumbling, reality sunk back in. Sat at your desk, on a Friday night, under fluorescent lights.

“Isn’t it funny to have your dream job, and it’s still so boring most of the time,” you mused, and Spencer just chuckled.

He still hadn’t moved to start his work.

“I know what you mean.”

He paused for a moment.

“Was this your dream job?”

Oh, no.

“Is that lame? I assumed this was everyone here’s dream job,” you admitted.

Spencer shrugged, and you found yourself watching him desperately for any kind of redemption from the ache of embarrassment you were feeling in your chest. It shouldn’t matter, whether Spencer thought you were lame. Somehow, it seemed like the only thing that did matter.

“I suppose I never knew where I’d end up, but I’m glad it was here.”

You nodded, waiting for him to speak more. Spencer spoke a lot, defended himself with constant talking. It was something different, rare, when he was talking about his own past.

“What am I talking about? Yeah,” he was smiling, and that meant you were smiling right back at him, all toothy and lame, “this is my dream job.”

“If it was really a dream job, they’d pay for our dinners,” you teased, and Spencer laughed.

“That’s true enough. Oh!”

He rifled through his wallet, pulling out a twenty and hunting for more.

“My half,” he offered, “thank you for letting me crash your dinner.”

“Not at all, it’s nice the you’re here! And I wasn’t angling for you to pay me back, Spencer. Don’t be daft.”

“No, you just reminded me, is all.”

He put the cash down beside your hand with an eyebrow raise, and you laughed.

“Thank you.”

You wondered how someone sourced bills so clean, it wasn’t as ratty as the cash you grabbed from your wallet.

“I’ll take it as danger money, in case security squeal on us for ordering takeout.”

“I’m not sure the late night paperwork should the riskiest part of the job.”

He laughed, and finally made a move to stand up. Suddenly you were overcome by the need to stop him from going anywhere.

“What have you got left to do?” you asked.

“Case reports, a few bits of random paperwork, I think there’s a security review and some statements to type up…”

As you talked over the workload, you realised you’d done some of the work Spencer had intended to. He offered to take over on some things, and you knew he’d complete the work perfectly, until finally the workload split between the two of you felt manageable. He pulled a chair over to share your desk, and by the time the food had arrived, you felt far better about your odds of getting home before midnight.

“Do you want to try some of this?” you offered Spencer, catching him watching you.

“Oh, um, yeah actually.”

You hadn’t really meant it. Spencer didn’t share, you’d already double-dipped and your chopsticks had been in your mouth and…

“Do you want a spring roll? These are amazing.”

You let him use his chopsticks to drop a spring roll into your container, and you smiled your thanks as he did. His face was suddenly far closer to you than you’d realised, knees inches apart as you struggled to share one desk.

“Hm,” you mumbled, “that is good!”

“Right!”

For a while you ate in silence, and if you forgot about the fluorescent lights and stale scent of office, it was like you were sharing dinner together by choice. Spencer in his casuals, you still shoe-less, perched casually on your chair, it was nice.

“So, do you have weekend plans?”

He’d be silent for so long, you hardly heard him.

“Hm?”

“Weekend plans,” his voice dropped quieter, less stable. “What are you up to?”

Spencer was asking what your weekend plans were. Spencer.

“I just thought… asking about… asking about your weekend shows that I care for your wellbeing and builds social rapport between colleagues, or… I mean, I think we’re friends at this point? Too? So I just wanted to know what your weekend plans were.”

He was bright red and staring down at his noodles, you could see the rise and fall of his chest, the panic growing in him.

“No, Spencer, I appreciate you asking. I’m, uh, just planning on crashing to be honest. I have to clean my apartment, do all my laundry. Nothing too exciting. And my building’s laundry room is flooded – again – so I guess it’s a long wait at the laundromat.”

Desperate to say anything, to make Spencer feel better – and make sure he didn’t regret talking to you – you found yourself rambling on and on, until he was smiling nervously. Still avoiding your eye, he interrupted you gently.

“Public laundromats have all kinds of risks. My biggest concern is always bed bugs – even commercial machines in laundromats often can’t kill bed bug eggs, leading them to be transferred between customers…”

“Oh, god Spencer, that’s really not making me feel better!”

“No! I just mean… I have in-unit, for that reason. Disinfected regularly.”

You looked at him, bemused, the warm food in your lap forgotten. He paused, and met your eyes, a lock of hair falling over his face. He brushed it back.

“Oh! I meant, I wasn’t bragging about my washer being clean. Uh, you’re welcome to use mine, if you’d rather.”

It was the strangest thing that had ever made your heart clench with fondness. He was still blushing, clearly afraid he’d said the wrong thing, done something weird again. It was your first instinct not to bother him, but at the innocent look in his wide, brown eyes, you found yourself accepting.

“That would be amazing, if you wouldn’t mind, Spencer. Be warned, I’ve got a lot of laundry to do, you can kick me out anytime you get sick of me,” you teased.

“I know, from all the travelling. You’re wearing clothes you never normally wear, presumably because all your favourites need washing.”

You stared at him, processing for a moment. You could see his finger tapping against the side of his thigh, the smile he was trying to hide.

“You can stay as long as you like,” he clarified.

“Maybe we can watch a boxset or something, if you like?”

The raise of his eyebrows was enough to make you laugh, and he quickly looked away, taking another mouthful of rice.

“Doctor Who?”

There was nothing you wouldn’t have watched with Spencer, as you woke up the next morning blessedly free of work calls and lazily made your way to his apartment with two suitcases full of washing and a huge bags of Skittles for Reid. He’d surprised you with a made lunch, and with a freshly cleaned washer and dryer. Despite the way he made himself scarce when you pulled out underwear and bundled it into his washing machine, two hours later, he was brave enough to sneak an arm around your shoulder.

You sank your face to his chest, and listened to the pounding of his heart. By the time Christopher Eccleston had met his first Dalek, you knew a lot of your future would be spent on this couch.

#i spent like 3 hours writing this and forgot to eat #relatable reader rn #13atoms #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fic

933 notes · View notes

ekkoscakeo · 4 months ago

Text

"Our Final Song"

[a/n] : listen to ma meilleure ennemie while reading this to cry more ;')

The soft hum of "Ma Meilleure Ennemie" filled the small room, looping endlessly, weaving itself into the fabric of the night. It was their song, the one that had accidentally played the night they first danced, awkward and laughing, under flickering string lights. Now, it played again—not as a backdrop to laughter, but as a companion to a goodbye they both knew was coming.

Ekko sat cross-legged on the floor, his Z-Drive dismantled beside him. He didn’t need it tonight. Tonight was for her. She leaned against the far wall, her silhouette bathed in the dim light of the desk lamp. She looked fragile, as though the slightest gust of wind could carry her away. But her smile, soft and knowing, was as solid as it had always been.

“It’s a weird song to love, don’t you think?” she said, breaking the silence. Her voice was quiet but steady, as if she hadn’t just been crying moments ago.

Ekko glanced at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s weird because you love it, and you’re weird.”

She laughed—soft, barely there, but still enough to make his heart twist. “Says the guy who rewinds time for fun.”

He leaned back on his hands, tilting his head as he watched her. “You’re not gonna let me win this one, are you?”

“Never,” she teased. Then, more gently, “That’s what made us work, though. You challenge everything, and I challenge you.”

He turned his gaze to the Z-Drive. It lay lifeless now, the device that had once given him endless chances. But tonight, there was no rewinding. No second try. This was their moment, fleeting and final, and he wouldn’t waste it.

----

The song played on, its melancholic melody carrying them through their memories.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Ekko smirked. “You mean when you tried to spray-paint over my work?”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face betrayed her amusement. “It was awful. A galaxy? Really?”

“It was art, thank you very much,” he shot back, feigning offense. “And if I remember correctly, someone decided to fix it by painting stars that looked like fried eggs.”

“They were stars,” she argued, laughing now. “But sure, let’s go with fried eggs.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I let you win that argument, too.”

She softened, her gaze meeting his. “No, Ekko. You didn’t let me win. You let me stay. That’s different.”

-----

The song looped again, filling the spaces between words, carrying them to the quieter, heavier memories.

“Do you regret it?” she asked after a long silence. Her voice was small, almost afraid.

He looked at her sharply. “Regret what?”

“Us. This. Loving me.”

His heart twisted. He stood, crossing the room to sit beside her. “Never,” he said firmly. “Not for a second.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, and for a moment, they sat like that, the song wrapping around them like a fragile cocoon.

“I regret the fights,” she murmured. “The times I pushed you too hard. The times I didn’t say what I really felt.”

“You pushed me because you believed in me,” he said softly. “And that’s what I’ll remember. Not the fights. Not the regrets. Just... you.”

-----

The night wore on, their voices growing softer, their silences longer. The weight of the inevitable hung heavy between them, but neither dared to say it aloud. Not yet.

As the final notes of the song played for the hundredth time, she reached for his hand. Her fingers, once so steady, trembled against his. “Ekko,” she whispered, “promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t stop living when I’m gone.”

His throat tightened, and he couldn’t speak. She turned to look at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears but full of determination. “You have so much left to do. So much left to give. Don’t let this—don’t let me—be the end of you.”

He swallowed hard, nodding. “I promise,” he choked out.

She smiled, leaning her head against his chest as the song began to play again. “Good,” she whispered.

------

When the last notes of the song finally faded, so did she. Her warmth, her weight, her presence—all of it slipped away like a fading dream.

Ekko sat there, the silence pressing in around him, his arms empty but his heart full of the love they had shared. The room felt colder, but he didn’t move. He let the quiet settle, let the memory of her linger a little longer.

His gaze drifted to the Z-Drive lying beside him, its cracked surface catching the faint glow of dawn breaking through the window. Gently, almost reverently, he picked it up, his fingers brushing over the fractured casing.

“One rewind,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Just one.”

He pressed the button, the device sputtering weakly before flickering out completely. It was useless, broken when he needed it most. Time, it seemed, had made its choice.

Ekko clenched the Z-Drive tightly, his knuckles whitening as tears streaked silently down his face. “Why?” he rasped into the empty room. “Why give me this power if I can’t save her?”

The question hung in the air, unanswered.

And yet, deep down, he knew. She wouldn’t have wanted him to rewrite this—to steal away the love and the pain that made their final night together real. As much as it hurt, it was theirs. Untouchable. Unchangeable.

The song looped faintly in his mind, the melody carved into his soul. He sat there, the dawn spilling light across the room, his heart breaking but alive with the echoes of her.

“Thank you for loving me,” he whispered again, the Z-Drive slipping from his grasp and clattering softly to the floor.

It wasn’t the ending he wanted, but it was theirs. And in all its beauty and pain, that would have to be enough.

--------

#ekko arcane #ekko #boy savior #arcane #arcane season 2 #act3 #act 3 arcane #ma meilleure ennemie #timebomb #league of legends #ekko x reader #reader insert #arcane x reader #angst #arcane angst #powder #arcane episode 7

164 notes · View notes

bumblehoneybee · 1 year ago

Note

do you think you could do a dogday x reader where dogday calms the reader down from a panic attack? i’m just thinking about how if i was put into players position i would freak out 😭‼️.

TAKE YOUR TIME 🫶🏽🫶🏽💕💕

You’re Safe With Me

It’s truly nothing that sets it off.

Limp wires curl down from the rafters in gentle loops, silhouetted against the dim, flickering lights that have yet to burn out. You know they’re there, you can see them, and yet. . .

When one falls from the ceiling, attached to frayed wires that look like a clawed hand, you hit the ground hard enough to give yourself a concussion.

You can see it, the pink rubber, hear the shriek of her voice. Cheater, a fly in her web to be eaten once the games were lost. You didn’t lose, but you feel like you did. Curled up on the floor of the factory, sobbing, from the mere fall of a wire.

Your mind is assaulted with Mommy’s grimace of a smile, flashes of her crawling after you like a spider, limbs stretching out to grab you, to break you like a hated toy. Your body surges with heat against the cold concrete floor, curling up tight to protect yourself against an enemy that is no longer there.

Then something cold presses against your cheek. Your body reels from the shock of it, clearing your foggy mind enough to remember where you are, who you’re with.

Dogday whines, pressing his nose to your cheek again. “Angel, please. Breathe.”

Your lungs are burning.

With a gasp, you suck in as much dusty air as you can hold. It fills your lung, expands them in a way that makes your chest feel ready to burst. It escapes in a rush as well, leaving you panting and shaking.

Dogday whines again. “You’re okay. I am here. You’re safe, angel, I promise.”

“Sh-she’s-”

“Gone.” Dogday says, the finality in his voice grounding you to the moment. You feel his fur against your side, his hands running around your back, stroking your hair. “She’s gone. And you’re here, safe.”

It’s your turn to whine, a low, pathetic noise that precedes the torrential downpour of tears. Dogday whines right back at you, nudging your side until you roll enough to let him in. His body takes up the deafening space, and though you’re so hot and not feeling the best, you cling to him.

Because Dogday is real and he’s there. He’s safe, a beacon in the sea of your mind to remind you that she’s in the past and you’re here, with him. Safe.

And he’ll make sure you stay that way.

#poppy playtime x reader #poppy’s playtime x reader #dogday #dogday poppy playtime #dogday x reader

553 notes · View notes

seenoversundown · 1 year ago

Text

I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm

Warnings: Smut (Oral F receiving, sex sex sex)

Word Count: 1.3k

Andrew x Reader (y/n)

The laughter of our friends echoes down the hall as he guides me further and further away from them. We’re hosting the annual holiday party this year for the first time. It was our third holiday season together but the first one in our new home.

“They’re going to notice we’re gone, we’re going to get caught,” I say while tugging his hand. I can’t help the fit of giggles that follow.

“Love, we’re only going to get caught if you’re loud,” Andrew replies, and the heat building in my stomach drops. We continue down the long hallway until we hit the staircase. I’m ready to start tiptoeing up them, trying to remind myself to avoid the squeaky stair halfway up, when Andrew pulls us into the small closet built under the stairs instead, causing me to gasp.

“This is way too close to everyone else!” I hiss under my breath.

He laughs while tugging me in further. “We have about ten minutes before Marlow comes looking for me; better make them count.”

My protests quickly fail as he attaches his lips to my throat, my ultimate weakness. He pulls me against him as he pushes the door shut with a soft click. I’m holding on to his arms as though they’re life preservers keeping me from drowning in all of him. I feel the low rumble of his laugh as he peppers soft kisses trailing up to my lips.

As soon as Andrew’s lips touch mine, I feel myself drown. It’s intoxicating as I spiral from our kiss. I let my hands roam over his arms, chest, anything I can touch. It seems as though he feels the same way with the way his hands are pulling my dress up over my thighs. I can feel his fingers slip over the outside of my thong, looping into each side. With one quick movement, he pulls them down and falls to his knees simultaneously. He looks up through his lashes at me, and god, is it a beautiful sight. His pupils are so blown out that I can barely make out the green of his eyes I love so much. I’m breathless looking at how gorgeous this man is. I feel lucky.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, love. I need to taste you.” Andrew sounds desperate as he plants kisses on my thighs, almost like he’s waiting for me to permit him.

“Please,” my voice comes out breathless, almost inaudible, but it’s all he needs. He takes his fingers and separates my folds to give me one long swipe of his tongue. I forget our rules, where we are, for a moment, and moan in relief. Finally, my man is where he belongs.

“You have to stay quiet, love, or I can’t let you finish.”

My hands instantly go to the back of Andrew’s head. “Sorry, sorry, don’t stop.”

“My needy girl, what am I going to do with you?” He doesn’t give me time to respond as he expertly finds my clit. I’m focusing hard on not making a sound, but I can’t help the whimper that comes out of me when he inserts a single finger. The scrape of his beard on the inside of my thighs is deliciously painful.

“More, please give me more.” I’m close, something that always happens fast with him. I feel him chuckle, which just makes my clit hum in pleasure, but he complies. I feel the second finger enter me, and I slowly become untethered. My hands are lost in his unruly curls as I hold him against me, chasing my release. His fingers curl inside of me, and I come entirely undone. It’s hard to remember to stay quiet when he makes me feel this good. When he’s sure I’ve come down, he rises from his place on his knees.

“I need to feel you,” Andrew whispers against my ear as he turns me around. I hear the zipper of his pants before he shrugs them down his thighs. He places the crown of his cock against my entrance, and I can’t help but push up against it; the anticipation is unbearable.

“My desperate girl can’t wait for me, can she?” My head shakes in response as I hear him tsk behind me. “You know the rules, babe. Use your words.” He slowly removes his cock so he isn’t touching me anymore.

“Please, please. I need you. I can’t wait.” He’s right, I am desperate for him.

I hear Andrew’s low chuckle behind me as he repositions himself at my entrance. He doesn’t give me any warning at all before he’s bottoming out inside of me. The mix of our moans fills the tiny closeted space while he brings up a hand to my neck. With his hand slightly tightening on my throat and the other gripped onto my hip, he starts to thrust.

“You’re so wet for me. Just for me. God, I love being inside you.” Andrew murmurs in my ear. I feel myself melting for him. I press my ass back and spread my legs even more, trying to get as much of him as I can.

“You need this too, don’t you, babe? My naughty girl, I love when she comes out to play.” I lightly moan in response to his words when his hand gives a warning squeeze around my throat.

“My naughty girl still needs to be quiet. Wouldn’t want to be found, would we?”

“No, sorry, please.” My breath hitches in my throat as Andrew thrusts into me at a steady pace. His hand slowly travels up my side as his languid thrusts continue until he reaches the peak of my breast. My nipple is hard, and I need more from him. I don’t have to say anything as he pinches my nipple and gives me the pressure I am desperately searching for.

“You feel so good, pleasedon’tstop.” I barely recognize my own voice anymore. I love when sex with Andrew sends me into another dimension.

“Let me feel you come, love, come undone for me.” My orgasm is right on the surface as I listen to his words, but once his hand deserts my breast and makes its way to my clit I am entirely done for.

It’s hard not to whimper as I come on Andrew’s cock, and it’s hard not to moan when I feel him release inside of me. It feels as though there’s no more air in this closet, just Andrew and I. He stays behind me for a moment, maybe two, just holding me in our post-coital bliss. When he’s ready, he finally pulls out of me, and I can’t help but whimper at the empty feeling.

Andrew moves around me and cleans me up with my discarded panties. After he puts them on the shelf out of view, “I’ll come back for these when everyone leaves.” He says as he presses a kiss to my temple.

“You better not forget them, I swear, Andrew.”

“Swear what?” He presses a kiss to my lips. “I know how to get on your good side, love. I’m not worried.” He laughs that glorious laugh; it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard. He unlocks the closet door and looks back at me, “ready to go back?”

“Do I look okay?” I ask as I smooth my dress back out, trying to look as normal as possible. Andrew takes my wrists and stops my movements.

“You, my love, are ethereal.” A single kiss to my forehead. “Let’s go.”

As we walk back down the hallway , the voices get louder and louder, seemingly right on time; a small pair of footsteps is running towards us.

“Uncle Annndreeeewww!!” Marlow bellows. “I’ve been looking for you! Have you been playing hide and seek?” She erupts into a fit of giggles as Andrew lifts her above his head.

“Absolutely was, Mar. Good job! You found us.”

I can’t help but laugh behind them as we walk into our living room to be greeted by everyone else.

“You two were gone for quite some time.” Our friend calls from the other side of the room.

Andrew’s quick to cover Marlow’s ears before he responds. “You know me, I would never worship and tell.”

#holiday one shot #andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #hozier fic #hozier fluff #hozier #hozier smut

1K notes · View notes

whatsk-poppinhomies · 1 year ago

Text

Pairing : Lee Felix x F!Reader TW : reader is pregnant ; still extremely fluffy ; Word Count : 1.7k Request : nope! A/N : 11 work days later and I'm finally off!! YAY!!!

“Lix, baby…” You sweetly said his name, staggering back a little as you both walked through the store. He was going there to simply get new headphones for his computer and of course he wanted you to tag along with him, but you always got sidetracked when passing the baby aisle, and this time you weren’t longingly looking at the booties or the onesies… You had a tiny little plan forming in your head.

“Hmm? What is it, angel?” He responded back just as sweet, his freckled cheeks lifting and his eyes squinting as he looked at you, his smile wide yet slightly bashful. “What’re ya doin?” He quizzed, eyeing you with full interest now as you held up two different pairs of newborn footie pajamas.

“Which one do you like more? This one…?” You held up a green pair that was printed with frogs and little lily pads. “Or this one?” The other pair was a pale yellow with a small embroidered duck at the top. “Only three seconds to choose one though, come on!” You chimed, trying to make it more like a game so he wouldn’t get an idea of what was happening just yet.

“Ahhhh…” His eyes wavered back and forth between the little sets before his finger shot forwards to point at the yellow outfit. “That one’s cuter, and it’s closer to Bokkari so, obviously I’m gonna choose the duck.” He explained, and you nodded along in agreement. “Look at this though, angel.” He said as he started walking again, not straying too far off as you hung the outfits back on the racks, making a mental note to remember where they were for when you came back to get them.

“What is it?” You asked, walking over to where he stood in front of a nursery set that was duck themed, his eyes sparkling as he looked at it. “Oh… Oh that’s adorable.” You picked up the set, flipping it over to see the price on the back of the box before setting it back down again. “And completely ridiculous. $60 for a blanket and a bib? They’re charging for the packaging.”

Felix snorted, wrapping his arm around your waist and leading you to the electronics section, his mind back on track once more. “It’s cute that you completely forget that I make a ridiculous amount of money doing what I do.” He teased, playfully squeezing your side and making you jump before you leaned into him. “Don’t worry, once we have a baby, they’ll be set for life. They’ll never want for nothing.”

It was hard to fight back the urge to tell him right then and there, but you bit your lip, looping your arm around his and resting your head against his shoulder. “I love that you’re already planning on spoiling them…” You teasingly murmured, smiling softly up at him. “How will I ever compete with you?”

He paused for a moment, and you assumed that he was just trying to think of an answer to your question, but his gaze that was laid upon you softened as he turned to stand in front of you. “It’ll never be a competition. Everything we do will be as a team. Whatever I get for them, even if you’re not there when I get it, it’ll be from the both of us.” The short moment of sweetness quickly changed to him teasing once again as he leaned in to kiss the tip of your nose. “What’s with all this baby talk? Hmm? You got something to tell me?” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully, and you shook your head fast, hoping that he didn’t pick up on your nervous giggling.

“I’m having baby fever again. You know how bad it gets when I walk through the baby aisles.” You reasoned, and thankfully, your explanation was good enough for him. He was used to you having the baby talk the whole way home after shopping trips, but your mind would usually trail off into something else as soon as you got home. You’d have to keep up with the pattern if you wanted to keep this a secret, at least long enough to get everything ready for the surprise.

2 weeks, one secret doctors appointment, and a small shopping trip with Chan later, and you finally had the little gift box prepared to surprise Felix with. It took a lot to keep yourself from telling him before the two weeks was up, but you just kept it in the back of your mind that his reaction would be adorable, of course it would be, everything he did was adorable.

The camera was set up, under the advice of Hyunjin who wanted so badly to be there to see it, but he also knew that if he was at the house when Felix got home it would raise some questions and might have spoiled the surprise. Everything was being recorded, and truthfully, this would be a moment that you’d love to look back on later on in life.

“Angel…” Felix called out from the front door, and you heard his shoes tumble onto the floor and the quiet sound of his slippers sliding across the hard wood as he slipped them on. “You okay?” Of course, today was one of those days when the wonderful symptoms of carrying a child kicked in full force and had you leaning over the kitchen sink as you tried to hold back the nausea long enough to give him his surprise.

“Mmhm…” You hummed, cupping a bit of cold water in your hand and sipping a bit of it before turning around to face him. “Think I just ate a bit too quickly.” You explained, giving him a smile when he came over to you, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. “I’m not sick, really. Come… I have something to tell you.” You said, and the sudden bout of sickness had your voice lacking the excitement that you had been hoping to convey.

“Is… Is it bad?” He stammered, and you could almost see through his chest, visualizing his heart sinking at your words. He truly was too good for this world, he was far too sweet, and you immediately felt bad for even accidentally worrying him. “You’re not leaving me… Are you? Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” You said, maybe a little too loudly, his eyes widening in shock at the sudden outburst. “Sorry… Sorry. I’m not leaving you. I just… I have a surprise for you and… I really want to show you.” You said the words a little too fast, and you hoped that he was able to catch all of them. He still seemed a little confused, but you were already grabbing his hand and leading him to the living room. “Sit… I have to run to the bedroom to grab something.” You motioned to the couch with your head, and once he was finally seated, you ran to the bedroom and grabbed the little box out of the top of the closet.

“You’re not… proposing, are you? I wanted to be the one to do that…” He said, watching you with suspicious eyes as you walked back into the living room, your hands behind your back to hide the box from him. “What is that? What are you holding?” He inquired further, craning his neck to try to see behind you.

“Shh.. Just close your eyes and hold out your hands.” You waited for him to do so before placing the little box in his upturned hands, and then you sat on the little seat across from him. “Open…” You whispered, and your heart was hammering in your chest now as you watched his eyes scan over the little box that had congratulations written across the lid.

“What is it…?” He asked, and you motioned towards the box with his hand, silently telling him to open it. He carefully set it down on the coffee table before shimmying the lid off, and you heard him gasp softly when he saw the tiny teddy bear and the little note. “Appa…? Me? I’m… You’re… Really?” He questioned, and you hesitantly nodded your head in agreement, not able to fully gauge his reaction just yet. Then he lifted the note and on the backside you had carefully taped the ultrasound photo, it wasn’t much, but the little bean was there, and he could see it clearly.

“Lix…” You nervously whispered his name as you watched his hand go to his mouth, and you could have sworn you heard a sigh… or maybe it was a sob… But you couldn’t really tell how he was feeling just yet. “Are you… okay? I’m sorry, I just-”

His head shook, and when he finally looked at you, his hand falling to his lap, you could see he was smiling. “This is amazing…” He choked out, pushing himself up off the couch and striding over to you only to drop down to the floor in front of you, his hands moving to your stomach. “I’m so happy… I… I don’t even have words. This… We’re having a baby… We’re gonna have a family… Us… We are…”

“We are…” You agreed, your own tears beginning to form and trickle down your cheeks. His hands moved up to cup your cheeks, his thumbs working quickly to wipe the tears before they had the chance to reach your chin, his smile never faltering as he looked up at you with eyes that sparkled and shined. “I love you, Felix…”

He pushed himself up, kissing you gently, his lips tasted of salt from his tears and a slight hint of coffee. “I love you more, most, mostest, more than anything. Thank you… For giving me this gift, for loving me… For making me happy, for making me the luckiest man in the world.” He sighed, and then he started laughing, a soft laugh, a chuckle that came from his chest that seemed to vibrate through him. Your head tilted to the side questioningly, but he only shook his head. “I’m glad that wasn’t a proposal… Because I have to run to the bedroom real quick and grab something… Just make sure you say yes to my next question.”

Perm. Taglist : @whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me @mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin @his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc @syuuji @jiisungllvr @yukichan67 @randomwimp @silentreadersthings @cutiespaghetti @furiousheartpoetry @its-hannjisung @lixpixstix @felixluvr915 @wordsofkpop @kayleigh-28 @szkstay @spnwinchestersd @fleatree @yehsehneeah @vampcharxter @iloveksmohsomuch @lvlnijiro @neteyamsmate4life @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic

775 notes · View notes

lev1hei1chou · 9 months ago

Text

Bunny Boy

Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: Gojo loses a bet Masterlist

Gojo Satoru sighed, staring at the fluffy bunny costume in his hands. He couldn't believe he'd lost the bet, and now he was supposed to wear this ridiculous thing. "Do I really have to wear this, baby?" he pleaded, holding up the costume with a pained expression.

You gave him a mischievous grin, crossing your arms. "Oh, you definitely do, Satoru. A bet's a bet, remember?" you said, trying to stifle your laughter.

"But bunny ears? And a fluffy tail?" he protested, looking like he was about to start bargaining for his dignity.

"Yes, bunny ears, and a fluffy tail," you affirmed with a giggle. "Come on, it'll be hilarious!"

Resigned, he reluctantly slipped into the costume while sulking, struggling with the huge ears and adjusting the tail awkwardly. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered, feeling utterly ridiculous.

Once he was fully decked out in bunny gear, you burst into laughter, unable to contain yourself. "Oh, love, you look adorable!" you exclaimed between giggles, snapping a quick picture.

"I'm glad I amuse you," he grumbled, though the corners of his lips twitched with a hint of a smile. Despite feeling utterly silly, seeing his beloved laugh so freely made it worth it.

He lost a bet fair and square, and now he was paying the price by parading through the streets of Shibuya in a full-blown bunny costume.

"Come on, baby, it's not that bad," you said, trying to make him feel a little better. "Not that bad?" he protested, his voice desperate. "I look ridiculous!"

"That's the whole point," you teased, looping your arm through his as you set out to walk through the bustling streets.

People passing by couldn't help but stop and stare, some bursting into laughter, others whipping out their phones to capture the sight of the great Satoru Gojo, an esteemed sorcerer, reduced to a fluffy bunny.

"I hope you're enjoying this," Gojo muttered under his breath as they continued their journey.

"Oh, immensely," you replied with a mischievous grin.

Despite the embarrassment burning in his cheeks, Gojo couldn't help but notice the smiles and laughter his costume brought to those around him. It was hard to stay mad when he saw the joy it brought to others, even if he felt like a walking punchline.

Eventually, you made it back home, where Gojo promptly shed the bunny suit and collapsed onto the couch with an exasperated sigh.

You flopped down beside him, still grinning like the cat that got the cream. "You know, you make a pretty adorable bunny."

"Adorable, huh?" Gojo raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I'll show you adorable."

Before you could react, he lunged forward and began peppering your face with playful kisses, tickling your sides until you doubled over with laughter.

"Okay, okay, I surrender!" you gasped between fits of giggles.

Gojo relented, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you. "Y'know, despite the humiliation, I wouldn't trade moments like these for anything."

You leaned into his embrace, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. "Me neither, even if it means occasionally turning you into a bunny boy."

213 notes · View notes

gemissleeping · 3 months ago

Text

Angel of Small Death | Part Three

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s Seventh Year and you’re one of the ones who stayed. Reeling from the loss of your family in the midst of the war, you find a twisted sense of comfort in Mattheo. But your best friend Theo can’t help but feel you’re slipping away from him in more ways than one.

Read the other Parts here.

Length: 1.6k

Warnings: Back as promised. I'd like to formally apologise to my love @moonlightttfae for what she's about to read. Nasty filthy angst and rushed writing. NSFW content ahead, Smut! Drug use mentioned!! Toxic relationships!! Mature audiences! Also barely any Theo so sorry but Matt owns these now I think (maybe). I love you all <3

Clean was coming. It was across from you, like the sun on the lip of a horizon. You just had to cross over to it. But tonight wasn’t the night for taking that step. Because alongside clean, lay an all out war. It had been brewing, and now it would bubble over. Christmas was gone, and in its wake, a lingering sense of dread. As though all of your friends knew it, but wouldn’t speak of it. Wouldn’t speak of it precisely because they knew. Instead, it was New Years Eve, and Lorenzo Berkshire was throwing a party.

No one dared ask why the manor was free. Conversations meant lines drawn, and there seemed to be a silent, almost diplomatic agreement, that there would be one last night. One last party together before it all came out; before opinions differed and friends turned into chess pieces. It had been weighing on Mattheo hard, and though the two of you never spoke about it, you knew what was to come.

“I need you to know something,” He had spoke from beside you earlier in the evening. The two of you standing atop the lower balcony, sun spilling gold across the Highlands surrounding you. He didn’t dare look at you while he said it, only let his elbow graze yours. It was as though he was preparing himself, for some kind of absence.

“No matter what happens across the next few months, I’m right here. Right here in this moment. Standing beside you, watching the sunset.” You could feel him drinking it in as he said it. Studying the snowed in hills and the gold and the pattern of your breath. His name left your lips, voice cracking a moment as he stole his eyes from the sun to collect himself. “I am good. I need you to remember it, to promise me that you will.”

You searched his face, willing him to turn to you. But he only kept his eyes on the sunset ahead. Tears welling, you let your gaze sink to the snow covered grass ahead of you. Breath pooling in the air as you let your mind wander to the coming months, what your life might be without him. He was saying goodbye. And what he would do would shatter you, that much you knew. But you needed one another, and quite frankly he had you, every part of you. Which was why you couldn’t help but say it.

“I promise, of course I promise.”

But now the lights were dimmed in Berkshire manor, the air lilted with drunk laughter. Milli and Blaise were slow dancing in front of the fire place, dipping and spinning like a pair of newborn deer. Draco, Astoria and Enzo falling all over one another on the couch as they fought over a book of childhood pictures.

Theo was sitting on the floor with Pansy and Daphne playing charmed cards. You and Mattheo tucked beside them near the fireplace. Matt watching you giggle as you played a card, making half of Daphne’s hand disintegrate in her palm as she yelped in surprise.

He let himself take this moment to be selfish. To watch your smile catch the light of the fire, drink in the scent of your hair as he leant into the crook of your neck, glancing at your hand. Arm looped casually around your back, letting your warmth soak into his skin.

You were everything to him, and it killed him not to be able to tell you. To barely even let himself feel it out of fear of the admission; its consequences for you. But for tonight, he told himself he would. He and Draco had agreed, tonight would be the last. It could have been called mutually assured destruction, if its sole purpose hadn’t been keeping you safe.

The high of your win carried you both down the hall, laughing as he pressed you into the cold stone of the wall. Lips barely touching as your arms curled around him. Cheeks alight under the flickering of the candles that lined the high ceilings.

His head dipped down, lips trailing your collar, arms circling the small of your back. Mattheo closed his eyes, dragging his mouth from your collarbone, up the slope of your neck, beneath your jaw. He relished in the deep pulse of your breath, the way it travelled through your bones and into his own. He wanted to be closer, as close as he could be. Maybe then his body would memorise you.

“Why didn’t you have any?” You asked, the bathroom sink cold beneath you as he lifted you atop it. His thumb swiping at the powder that had fallen above your lip.

“I wanted to be here with you, is that okay?” He returned, a soft and rare smile gracing him.

Then you nodded.

And his hands were pushing up the edges of your silk skirt, running over the skin there methodically. Moving from your thighs to your hips, the curve of your waist. Breath catching from the bridge between your lips, as though you were sucking it out of him.

You whined, breathing your pleas into his jaw. Hands splayed across his chest, gripping his starched, white shirt as your need for him grew. He answered you, sliding his hands beneath the edges of your underwear that hung on your hips. Taking his time to feel their shape beneath his palms before he drew the delicate fabric down. Kneeling before you as his lips joined his hands; traversing your thighs, kissing the tops of your knees. Mouth dragging across your shins, he sank to his knees at your ankles. Dark, desperate eyes rising to meet yours.

“I love you, you know.” It hit you softly, drawn out as your clouded mind tried to soak it all in.

You couldn’t speak, could barely return his words with a nod. You didn’t have to say them back, it wouldn’t change that he meant them. But you did, as your hands curled through his unkempt hair, his lips raising against yours once again, you told him. He didn’t stop telling you, not as he pushed himself into you. The roll of his hips against yours pushing out any lingering thoughts of your earlier conversation. Only able to keep yourself there; Mattheo’s arms holding you steady, his lips grazing the back of your neck as you furled into him.

Breaths growing uneven, he picked up his pace. Grunting as he reached a place within you that had you writhing in his arms. He smirked, satisfied at how well he knew your body. Keeping you still as he held you impossibly tighter to him. Right now, he was the only one who knew you like this, and in his mind that was how it would stay.

“I think you should see how beautiful you are like this.” He murmured, leaning his lips against your ear before he had you turned around. The mirror in front of you reflecting the dim orange glow off of the muscles of his shoulders. He had his arm wrapped around your middle, veins trying to burst from beneath the skin. Hand resting just below your navel, feeling himself within you with each movement of his hips.

Despite the possessiveness of his touch, there was a sweetness in his gaze. One that made you feel higher than you were, that made you beg him for more even after you thought you couldn’t take it again.

Your skin was slick, the temperature in the bathroom more akin to that of Summer than the snow outside. He held you up as he came, his fingers joining in as he pushed you over the edge along with him. Bodies shaking feverishly as you breathed him in and he kissed his way up your neck again. He knew you would get better, knew exactly who would help you get there. But for now you were still his alone.

And whilst the moon disappeared behind a spray of clouds, Mattheo made his way to the edge of Berkshire Manor with Draco. Footprints falling deep into the snow as he let himself fall too; into you completely for the very first time. Glad that you were asleep upstairs, wrapped in his old Quidditch jumper. And as they reached the border the messenger arrived, Enzo answering the door his face falling.

Mattheo told himself he would watch. That he owed it to them to know exactly the pain he would be causing the ones he left behind. But as the masked figure retreated, and Enzo was left stuck in the doorway, Mattheo turned away. Trailing after Draco as the snow set in, until they reached the forest and all that remained from where they had been was the end of a wand and a ball of bright, white light.

Mattheo longed to turn around, go back the way he came. But he wasn’t sure which way that was exactly, or what lay waiting for him there. There was laughter, the warmth of a smile maybe. He couldn’t quite grasp it, the absence of something all throughout him. And as he and Draco apparated into Malfoy Manor, Mattheo wiped his frozen cheek, confused when his fingers came back with a stray tear.

He looked to Draco’s eyes and knew that they were different. That whatever had been stolen from Draco, was missing from himself too. His seemed to be pulled down the snow speckled path to the looming manor, and with each step, Matt began to forget. The laughter, the flickering of candles, the warmth of someone’s smile, the feeling of skin beneath his fingertips; untouched by anyone else. He crossed under the door to the manor, and all he felt was cold.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Taglist: @theodorenottswifeyy @obsessedwithceleste @lenoraslament @mayamonroem @simp-for-fantasy @bruisedbbby @i-await @yelanare @diorandcigaddict

#gemwrites #angel of small death #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #slytherin boys #mattheo x you #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo angst #theodore nott x reader #harry potter

82 notes · View notes

the-heliophile · 1 month ago

Text

COFFEE - SEVIKA

FROM FOURMI 🐜💌 Currently suffering from an unhealthy Vi, Sevika and Ambessa obsession, yes I have a type what can I say I love hot women that can just throw me around

song. coffee, chappell roan

pairing. ex!Sevika x ex!reader

content. angst/sadness, no happy ending, kind of toxic Sevika?, no use of she/her but fem implied reader

summary. your ex Sevika asks you to meet up for drinks and you try not to end up in her bed again

You were lounging in bed, still blinking away the fog in your eyes when you got a text. You picked up the phone and squinted to read the time, 8:36AM, you sighed before looking at the actual text.

Unknown number : up for drinks later today?

You sighed, knowing exactly who it was from and how it would end. You and Sevika had broken up over three months ago but you still received an occasional text from her. You fought the urge to answer right away, taking a deep breath and trying to calm your heartbeat first. After a few minutes you gathered the strength to type out an answer.

You : sure, coffee after work ?

Unknown number : only coffee ?

You : I kind of have plans for tonight sorry

"I'd suggest the jazz bar on MaryAnn Street but,

You'd buy me a drink and we know where that leads, so"

You had made that mistake too many times, meeting Sevika for drinks at the end of a rough day, expecting it to end with you parting ways amicably just to be proven wrong each and every time. There was something to her, an allure that you quite couldn't resist, as if her soul was calling out to yours but her heart was constantly pushing you away. It was the reason you had broken up in the first place, her pushing you away, keeping out of the loop so you would never get involved in Silco's business. She meant well and you knew it, but there was only so much you could take. Too many nights where you'd stare at the clock wondering if she would make it home this time, too many times only getting to see her in the early hours of the morning just for her to be too drunk to even speak. You wanted, needed security, someone who could spare some time for you, confide in you and make you feel like a partner instead of a child they must keep out of everything.

"I'll meet you for coffee 'cause if we have wine

You'll say that you want me, I know that's a lie"

You remember the last time you agreed to go out for drinks with Sevika. You both stayed at the Last Drop for several hours, reminiscing the good moments of your relationship, catching up on each other's lives. It only took a couple drinks for the look in her eyes to go from its usual detachment to that dark arousal you'd see whenever she would get home after a hard day. And it was only a couple more drinks that led to Sevika kissing your neck in the back of the bar, she still remembered every erogenous zone, every sensitive spot there and she was kissing them almost earnestly. You crumbled in a few minutes and you ended up in her bed, once again, and once again you promised yourself it would be the last time. She never had any regards for you in the morning, barely addressing you while you were picking your clothes up and getting dressed, it made you feel dirty and yet you could never resist, you always fell for the sweet nothings she had whispered in your ear in her drunk haze.

"If I didn't love you, it would be fine"

Sevika knew she was hurting you every time it happened, but you also hurt her when you broke up with her. She was trying to do the good thing in your relationship, saw you as a light she did not want to dim with stories of the things she did. The truth was that Sevika loved you, in her own way, but she saw you as something fragile, breakable that she should protect. She was incredibly angry and hurt that you had broken up with her after two years, despite all the times she had explained her reasoning, she felt as though it was selfish of you and so she refused to let you just move on. Whenever she found herself missing you she would send a text, asking to go out, knowing full well you would never say no. She would never ask you to take her back, instead she would rather wait until you asked for her to come back to you, but every single time you joined her for the evening Sevika could tell how stiff you were, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt and refusing to look in her agate eyes. Every night ultimately ended up with you in her bed and her almost urging you out in sheer frustration that you wouldn't make the first move. So even if she knew her actions were hurting you, she also knew you still had feelings for her and she texted you once again, capitalizing on your feelings for her to secure a spot by your side, albeit temporarily.

"I'll meet you for coffee, only for coffee,

Nowhere else is safe, every place leads back to your place"

You had just gotten home from work and you immediately started getting ready, there was a little skip in your step for the whole way home, the idea that you would get to meet up with Sevika for something other than getting drunk was making you feel almost giddy. While doing your make-up your mind started drifting to all the soft moments exchanged between Sevika and you and eventually memories of your drunk nights together. Eventually the giddiness faded into bitterness, the corners of your mouth lowering from the grin you were sporting earlier and your shoulders slumping slightly. You knew, deep down you knew. It wouldn't be just coffee, she'd suggest the Last Drop and you'd agree with a "something came up" text to your friends. And once more you'd wake up in her bed feeling used. You look at yourself in the mirror, feeling Sevika's hand around your heart tightening, you were almost fully done up but your mood had significantly worsened compared to when you stepped into your bedroom.

"So let's not do coffee, let's not even try,

It's better we leave it and give it some time"

You let out a defeated sigh before grabbing your phone, typing a quick text to the number you still haven't saved again since you deleted it the first time because "that way you won't be tempted to text her".

You : Sorry, something came up, raincheck?

Unknown number : Sure, what about Saturday?

You : I'll be busy sorry, but I'll text you when I can !

You lied, you won't text her, not again, it had to end. It was time for you to move on and get on with your life. You shed a few tears, your mascara now running down your cheeks and take a deep breath to steady yourself. Promising yourself it was the very last time you had given her the time of day.

''Cause If we do coffee, it's never just coffee,

It's never just coffee"

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika angst #arcane angst #wlw angst #wlw #wlw post #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #sevika x you #arcane sevika #angst x reader #angst #longing #pining #ex lovers

112 notes · View notes

fallenprophets · 27 days ago

Text

midnight, lose my mind

rust cohle x reader

» can be read as a prequel or sequel to televangelism but doesn't have to be

» summary: although you and rust have been "together" for a while now, you've never kissed- and you're perfectly fine with this fact. only now, he seems to want to try.

» warnings: mentions of sex but that's it

» a/n: soooo self indulgent. literally don't know what came over me when i wrote this. listened to lorde and sydney ross mitchell on LOOP. yk. like a normal person

»»»»

I’m not sure how or when our relationship evolved into what it is now. It feels like only yesterday that the most intimate contact with him that I had was the moment our eyes met for a split second across the room; I was lucky if he held my gaze long enough to blink that slow blink of his. And yet here he is, all pretty and domestic, almost, sitting on my bed, shirt buttons undone, hair messy. He’s watching me where I sit on the windowsill, occasionally taking those deep drags of his from a cigarette before passing it to me. I can’t really remember when he first came over; first stayed the night. It just happened, so natural. I just know that now he’s almost always here; and when he’s not, I’m usually at his, borrowing his shirts, smoking his cigarettes.

He hasn’t kissed me yet, though. That’s something that I think I would remember; I’ve looked at his mouth so much, ached for it. I don’t push it, though. Like him- maybe love him- too much to lose him over something so trivial. He’s done other things for me- after a few weeks, I noticed that I never ran out of cigarettes. When he came over, the dishes crowding my sink would miraculously disappear; dust stopped settling on the piles of books scattered around the living room. I found the other day that the empty first-aid kit I still keep in my bathroom had been filled. He’s even stopped smoking his usual brand of cigarettes, replaced them with the ones I said I liked.

I don’t say anything; I don’t know if he wants me to notice, if he wants me to point it out, to thank him. For now, I enjoy it. If I’m honest with myself, I still worry that it could end at any minute; that he’ll leave before I wake up, and I’ll only see him at work, when we exchange files.

It’s hard to believe that, though; because when I come into work, at exactly the same time every day, I find my favourite mug on my desk, filled with coffee- coffee the way I like it, with no sugar but just a little cocoa powder that I buy myself (although that has also magically stopped emptying). It’s real nice, actually. To have someone care for me in that way- to know that when I say something, like how I like my coffee or what my favourite brand of cigarettes is, he’ll file it away into a corner of his brain.

He told me about his wife, too, the other day. I hadn’t asked; we’d been sitting in his truck, his hand on my thigh, and he’d just mentioned it, told me about his baby girl.

I’ve never been a particularly optimistic person, but something in me knows that he won’t leave.

I shift, readjust the collar of my top. He’s still watching me in that strange way of his; like he’s trying to read my mind, to learn everything about me through the way I breathe. Not for the first time, I find myself wishing that I could reach through those murky eyes and into his mind, take out his thoughts and wrap myself in them.

He extends an arm, and I pluck the cigarette- the packet, my favourite brand, sits next to him on the bed- from between his fingers, taking a long drag. My stomach feels strange at the feeling; it’s the closest I’ve come so far to kissing him.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” I ask, handing his cigarette back. A routine question, at this point in our relationship. He usually answers with something vague, sometimes that would make Marty flip, and I listen, silent, fascinated. Sometimes, I don’t even register what he’s saying; too busy watching the way his mouth moves, his throat, the slope of his shoulders; dissecting him in my mind.

“You,” he answers after a brief pause. His gaze has fastened itself to my collarbone.

My heart hops and skitters like a rabbit. As a teenager, I was convinced the whole butterflies-in-your-belly thing was bullshit, but I think I understand it now.

I swallow and tilt my head at him, try to read the lines of his face in the soft light. I don’t ask him to elaborate; I like the idea of him thinking about me, of what he’s thinking exactly being his secret. Like a little piece of me, always with him.

It’s early spring; everything is greener outside, the sun a softer shade of gold. A light breeze blows in through the open windows, stirring the curtains, his hair. I tuck my knee up, rest my chin on him as I keep staring. I’m not hiding it anymore; not the way I used to. Back when we hardly knew each other, when all we had was brief flashes of charged eye contact across the precinct and a whole lotta wantin’, Now, he’s sitting on my bed, and he’s staring at me, so I may as well return the favour.

I don’t know how long we sit there, just looking. We’ve done it before; often, in fact, we sit in silence, taking each other in. It makes me feel the way I used to feel when I kissed someone, only much heavier, bone-deep. I joked, once, as he drove me home- windows open, cigarette between his teeth, one hand resting on my thigh- that it was our way of having sex. He’d exhaled, almost a laugh.

Now, he puts the cigarette out in the ashtray sitting on my bed and stands. I move to do the same, swinging my legs down from the windowsill, reaching for the handle to shut the windows. Already, I assume he’s going to leave, go back to his place to beat himself up, maybe. But instead, he motions for me to stop. I do; pull my knees back up to my chest again, push the window open further.

He sits, and automatically I stretch my legs out, rest one across his lap, the other around his waist. Automatically, he puts a hand on my thigh, rubs it with his thumb. He shifts, and his eyes meet mine, dark and murky yet so, so clear; windows into his soul, I think.

I open my mouth to say his name, but he shakes his head. He reaches out, his hand cupping my face. His fingers find my pulse, like a reflex. He does it when we’re alone; when we’re sitting in his truck, sometimes, he’ll reach out to press his hand to my neck, feel my pulse.

His other hand leaves my leg and goes to my throat, resting at the nape of my neck. His skin is warm, and he smells like cigarettes and my sheets. I have a lingering suspicion that the shirt he’s wearing is mine. My downstairs neighbour turns on the radio; a song starts playing, too quiet to hear the words. His mouth is pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight.

I stay completely silent, try to control my breathing as he manoeuvres us closer to each other, until our foreheads touch. I’m painfully aware of every inch of my body that’s in contact with his; of the fact that he can feel how fast my heart is beating under his calloused fingers, that his breathing is really just as shallow as mine. His presence is warm, comforting. I give in to him immediately, even nudge closer so that our noses bump. I want to close my eyes, so I do; I wonder if he feels my eyelashes against his cheekbone, if it makes him feel a certain way. I think he closes his eyes too, at some point.

After a few moments of this, I lift my hands from where they are in my lap. Half-open my eyes to find the collar of his shirt. I reach up, trace his chest through the few open buttons. Then I begin to undo them, tug the shirt (my shirt, I’m sure of it now- there’s a pale stain on the cuff from when I broke my nose a few years ago, where a bit of blood dripped) off his shoulders. He lets go of my face just for a moment to take it off fully, never really opening his eyes. I let my fingers trace his shoulders, the dip of his collarbone. Feel the way they rise and fall almost imperceptibly as he breathes, the way his heart beats as I press my hand flat against his chest.

We’ve never slept together. I don’t mind it, and neither does he, I think- we have other ways of being intimate. It’s the first time he’s ever done something like this, though. Initiated this kind of physical contact.

It’s better than any kiss I’ve ever had; from anyone. It’s personal, it’s intimate, it’s for us only.

Finally, after what feels like hours of just breathing each other in (at some point, his thumb has started to trace circles on my cheekbone; I shudder when it does, and his breath catches almost unnoticeably for a moment) he shifts, his forehead leaving mine. I’m taken aback by the way it makes me feel; the ache deep in my chest, the way my throat tightens.

His gaze drops, for the first time ever, to my mouth.

Somehow, I know that he’s going to kiss me, now.

I open my mouth, to tell him that he doesn’t have to, that I don’t need him to; but the words die on my tongue as he breaks the small gap between us, pressing his mouth to mine.

I’m not sure exactly why, but I’d always thought he would kiss harshly, hungrily, maybe a little desperate. I’d pictured him bruising my lips, tugging at my clothes. But no- the way he kisses me is unlike anything I’d pictured. It’s soft, slow, and yes, maybe a little hungry- but not the way I had predicted. He kisses the same way he talks- slow, soft- and it makes me a little breathless.

I press my hands to the flat of his back, pulling him closer. He pulls away for a moment, just long enough to say my name almost reverently, his thumb dragging across my cheekbone before pulling his away to trace the lines of my mouth. I smile, take his hand in mine to kiss his fingertips. He cups my face again, and I lean into the palm of his hand, suddenly hungry for his warmth, for his touch. He kisses the corner of my mouth, then moves down; slow, methodical, featherlight touches of his lips across my jaw, down my throat. He stops at the center of my collarbone, kisses it. I press my nose into his hair, breathe him in, smile despite myself.

He comes back up, kisses me on the mouth again. Then he pulls away for good, untangles himself from my legs, stands, takes a few steps away. I stay where I am, wrapping my arms around myself. The absence of his touch, so sudden, is almost painful in a pathetic way. I watch him; I can tell he’s sifting through a thousand different thoughts. My mouth, my neck, my collarbone; all still tingle from the warm, almost feverish touch of his lips.

He sits down on the bed again, runs a hand through his hair. Finally, I stand too, walk over, sit next to him. I shift to rest my head on his shoulder; his arm finds its place around my waist. I feel him rest his cheek on my head, take a deep breath.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” I ask again, still breathless.

“You.” The answer comes quickly; he doesn’t hesitate this time. And he shifts, his eyes meeting mine. He holds my gaze.

“You stayin’ the night?” I don't feel stupid saying it, like I did the first time I asked to stay over at his. I feel comfortable, because I already know what his answer is.

“Yes.” Again, he says it quickly, like he was hoping I’d ask. I reach over to thread my fingers through his. His skin is warm. I wonder if he can feel my pulse where our hands touch.

#rust cohle #rustin cohle #rust cohle x reader #rustin cohle x reader #true detective #true detective season one #td season 1 #matthew mcconaughey #bloodhoundsandplagues writes #pushing the asexual rust cohle agenda #havent even finished the show #actually proofread this time #true detective x reader

84 notes · View notes

fawnhart · 3 months ago

Text

OH, MY ANGEL !

pairing. rafe x reader

warnings. mentions of death

authors note. Finally got around to writing something for y’all. I just finished my finals so look out for more stuff ♥︎

she sat in the dim light of the afternoon, the yellowed paper in her hands crinkling slightly as she folded it back into its envelope. She set it down carefully, as if the letter itself were a fragile artifact, a relic of a past too distant to touch but too painful to forget.

It was the third time today, It was always the same: his words, inked in careful loops, never failed to stir her chest, pulling at something that had long since been buried. She wiped her doe eyes, almost absently, as she sat in the small kitchen of the janky trailer they had shared for two years.

The room, like everything else, had not changed. The cracked pistachio tiles on the floor still gleamed faintly, and the old refrigerator geared in its corner as if nothing had happened. She could still see him, standing by the stove, humming that tune she could never quite place. He was always humming something—his voice, off-key but full of joy, mingling with the sounds of sizzling eggs or the clatter of coffee cups.

A shaky breath left her lips. How long had it been? Two months? Three? Time no longer mattered, it had become something useless and elusive.

The first time she met rafe, she had been so small, so unsure of herself, buried in the pages of textbooks, her head always filled with equations and literature, the world outside her studies a blur and irrelevant . She remembered the exact moment he had stopped her in the hallway—his tall frame looming over her, dirty blonde hair tousled in that wild, unkempt way that always seemed as if he had just been struck by a bolt of lightning. His straight brows were drawn together, blue eyes alight with a strange mixture of sincerity and mischief.

"I know you're busy," he had said, his voice light, almost teasing, "but can I take you out, sweetheart? Just once, for dinner? You could use a break from all that damn studying." He said in his thick souther accent that she could still hear in the back of her head

She had smiled politely, not sure how to respond. She had never been good at these things—these invitations, these gestures. But he was persistent, too persistent for her own good.

rafe didn't take “no” for an answer. It was sickening..yet somehow endearing.

Finally, after what felt like weeks of gentle courting, she had agreed. She had been so sure it would be an ordinary evening, a dull affair, a dinner with some dumb cowboy she would forget as soon as he left.

But man, oh man. She had been so wrong.

The evening had felt effortless—he had made her laugh, not by telling jokes, but by simply being himself. He had ordered something he didn’t know how to pronounce, then laughed when he spilled half of his strawberry milkshake on his button up. She had laughed too, surprised at how at ease she felt, how comfortable, as though he had always been there.

By the end of the night, her heart had been full, her cheeks flushed with something new. It was not just the beer, not just the burgers and fries they had eaten in the corner of a tiny diner where the neon sign flickered a little too often—but it was rafe. The way his smile lit up the dim corners of the room, the way his eyes seemed to take her in as if she were the most interesting thing in the world.

She had never known that such a moment, so simple, could be the best day of her life.

she sighed now, the letter crinkling again in her lap. She had tried—oh, how hard she had tried—not to think of her angel, or the call, that darn call she had received at 2:34 am informing her the love of her life was dead.

She had taken up gardening, even tried to return to her studies, though they felt heavier now, suffocating. His absence was everywhere: in the mornings when the trailer was too quiet, when there were no shoes left carelessly at the steps, no socks half-wrapped around the bedpost. And, oh, how she missed the sound of his humming, that low, almost constant noise that filled every corner of the house with life.

He had been a goofball. Always teasing, always laughing, with that wild hair that seemed to defy order, that strange and beautiful way of looking at the world. She had adored how he always seemed to be a step ahead of her, how his hands—those big, calloused hands—always managed to find their way to her, holding her waist, guiding her through the maze of their simple but happy life. She had even grown to miss the smell of his work uniform by the door, the sharp scent of leather and cologne, a reminder that he was still, always, coming home.

She wanted to be angry—angry that he was gone, angry that she had no choice but to move on—but the truth was, she couldn't. He had been everything she hadn’t known she needed, and now, in his absence, she was left with nothing but these letters. These traces of him.

And yet, they were a cruel comfort.

The words he had written—his small, careful script—now seemed like a message from a distant world. She read them again and again, his familiar tone ringing in her mind

“Don’t worry baby, you know I got you…”

A shiver passed through her. It was true. She would be fine, but she would never be the same. How could she? He had been her world.

The noise of the refrigerator became a distant, haunting sound as she sat there, staring at the letters on the small wooden table. She had no choice but to go on, to move through the days, but a part of her—perhaps the only part that still remembered—was always reaching for him. For his laughter. For the way he had looked at her as if she were the only person who mattered.

But the days passed, and the trailer stayed empty.

She placed her hand gently over them, a soft, almost imperceptible smile on her lips. She knew what she had to do. There would be no more trying, no more forcing herself to move on. She would remember him as he had been—wild, untamed, full of life, even in death.

And when the world grew too quiet, when the days grew too long, she would take out one of these letters and read it, just once more, and feel his presence beside her, even if only for a fleeting moment.

#works!⟡࿔*:･ﾟ #drew starkey #aesthetic #drew starkey imagine #rafe #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #obx fic #obx x reader #obx

135 notes · View notes

itstheval · 3 months ago

Text

Memory of a Quest

A @livesworthlivingau Side Story

Isabeau didn't know what to do with his hands. He'd never been in this situation before.

Siffrin had invited him out to visit a shop, on a 'secret mission'. He was confused, of course - this was something he did with Odile, not with Isabeau! But it had snapped into sense when he mentioned that he'd promised it during the loops. It was his therapist's idea…Get closure on the things he'd said to do during the loops, and it should help him put them to rest.

Why he'd promised to take Isabeau out antiquing was beyond him, but anything for Sif, right?

So there he was, standing in an antique store and trying to figure out how much he was allowed to touch. Not that there was too much interesting…A few familytales, some knick-knacks from people who'd moved on or passed on, things like that. It seemed important to Sif, though, and that's what Isabeau decided to focus on.

Siffrin didn't…have much of a past, he'd come to realize. He'd thought that it was just that he'd Changed! People do that, leaving their pasts behind, trying to pretend they don't exist, and Isa was nothing if not considerate. The truth was way more troublesome…There wasn't just a bad past behind Sif, or a past that belonged to someone he wasn't anymore, but nothing at all. Like if he let down his walls, instead of a bustling city, there was dry desert.

Well, the group had decided (but Isabeau especially), if there was nothing there, he'd water the crops and build the city with his own hands. He'd erect a town as great as the bustling Jouvente he left. Bigger even! With a nice number of bakeries full of memories of good food, and maybe a few Houses of Change…This metaphor was getting away from him.

So there Isabeau stood, surrounded by history that meant nothing to him, watching the love of his life go through each thing, turning it over in fascination.

"What're ya looking for, anyway?" Isa finally decided to ask, startling Siffrin from holding a small glass frog. "If I knew, maybe I could help?"

Sif turned to look at him, and the look of uncertainty hit him hard, despite his best efforts. "I…Don't know." Sif admitted, and Isa put the pieces together just a moment before Sif continued. "Something I remember, I guess. Something from back home."

Isabeau nodded, keeping his smile broad and warm, and ruffling Sif's hair. Thankfully, Mira had managed to teach him how to take care of it, so it wasn't as greasy as it once was…The first few times he'd done that, shortly after leaving Dormont, had not been a great feeling! Luckily, Isabeau knew how to keep things like that hidden (never show them let them think you're fine and dumb and-).

"So, stuff with stars? Or…The Universe?" Isabeau tried to think of anything else that could be a clue, that he could home in on. "Or…It was an island, maybe stuff with boats?" He asked it innocently, but the way Sif was looking at him made him pause.

"You…Remember all that? Now?" Siffrin had gone from curious to shocked, to almost crying, in seconds. Oh Change, what did that mean?!

"Well of course I do!" Isabeau tried. "They're important to you, aren't they?"

OOF!

A small, Sif-shaped missile impacted his chest, and Sif was hugging him and sniffling, looking up. This was important to the little rogue, huh? He tried reaching a hand around, to rub his back through the smooth cloak Sif always wore.

"Of course I remember. Why wouldn't I? They're things you care about. It'd be like not remembering Odile likes books, or Bon likes pineapple." You give a small laugh, your words quiet in the store whose customers all had their eyes turned to you now.

"I…I just, you never remembered before. Not when I didn't…"

"Do it perfectly?" Isabeau gave a sigh. Not for the first time, he wished he could've explained himself sooner. "Sif, just because that's when you learned that I knew, doesn't mean it's the only time I knew. I've cared about you for…For so very long. And if you can't remember it, I'll do my best to remember it for you."

Isabeau wasn't sure that was the right thing to say. Sif buried his head again, but the squeezing of arms around him made him oof, and he rubbed all the harder in return. "All of us will, Sif. Now…Shouldn't we be looking around?" Change, save him from the stares of random passersby…

Change was listening, or at least Siffrin decided to return to his search. He wiped his eyes, and Isa patted his back as he watched the puffiness of them, the darker shades that were a sure sign he'd been crying. "Right…" Sif managed, his voice wavering. "The Quest."

Isa allowed himself a little laugh at that description. The quest? That's really how they were thinking about this, still? Well…Nothing wrong in helping him. "Yes, we must quest forth for the mighty secrets of old." He allowed a nod, as though it wasn't the most ridiculous thing he'd said in quite some time.

Siffrin felt like an idiot. This was nothing new, but it'd been happening less recently? So it didn't feel great.

Of course Isabeau wouldn't know what to look for out on a secret quest! Of course this would make the whole thing awkward! And of course he'd wound up having to be comforted, again, when everything went wrong, again.

Thankfully, as Doctor Jinn had put it, he's got the same chance as everyone else to make it right. And Isabeau had remembered! He'd actually remembered, even though they hadn't gone stargazing! Or anything!

…Why hadn't they gone stargazing yet? They needed to remember to fix that later.

For now, though, they managed to focus on other things. Like the antiques around them. They had to admit, this had always fascinated them. Every single one of them, every item in the shop, with a history longer than Siffrin could imagine. He picked up a notebook with a hand symbol on it, and took a moment to try to imagine just how many other generations had held the same thing they're holding. Who wrote you? They thought it to themself as they stared, not really taking in the book in front of them. How many people read from you, how many lives did you change? What story were they holding in their hands right now, without knowing any of it?

They put it down with significantly more reverence than they'd picked it up, then jumped at Isabeau's voice. Stars, they'd gotten so lost in their own head again!

"Hey Sif, Stars are a thing from…Your country, right?" A part of them curled up at the way that Isa had to talk around the name of their home, but a much more interested part perked up.

"Yeah, why? What did you find?" They started towards the aisle that Isabeau was down, and then paused dead in their tracks.

"Well, this hat has all kinds of stars on the inside, see?"

It couldn't be.

That hat.

That. Hat.

That hat that saved them. That hat they'd last seen in the House. That hat that blew away on the wind. That hat that was their only upgrade, their only proof of getting somewhere for themself, their only proof of-!

"Woah! Okay, maybe stars aren't so good on hats? What, is it like, it's making a fake sky or something and that's not supposed to happen?" Isa went to put the hat back down, and they all but lunged forward. "NO!"

"No no no, I'm sorry, it's just, it's important, it's a big thing, I'm sorry, please let me have it, I'll pay you back, any amount you want, anything, please!"

They were babbling, but they couldn't seem to stop. That Hat. The memory of an orrery, of a tale they could only remember in their blankest moments, the memory of how they'd fought their way through. Of their darkest hours, too. But…It had been there.

"Woah woah woah! That's…Okay, star hats are good, got it! I'll tell you what…You tell me what's so important about this hat, and I'll pay for it entirely. Otherwise, it's a loan, you get it?"

Isa's voice had a laugh in it that Siffrin clung to as a lifeline. They slowly pulled themself back into place, like a sailor climbing back aboard after falling off their ship. They were here, not there. They didn't have it. They barely had their dagger. They didn't…need something, that armoured them, that saved them like it did. But at the same time…

"Alright, but it's…Loop stuff, not Island stuff. So…After we get out of here, okay?"

"Alright!" A heavy hand deposited it onto Siffrin's head, and they had the decency to blush about it, even if they did press up into the hand (not at all like a cat don't ask questions) and smile. "And if that's a Loop thing, you don't have to even tell me about it. I've never seen loop stuff make you that happy. Or…I guess, make you smile, a little? Either way, it's nice to know they weren't all bad! Even when you weren't trying your hardest."

Siffrin paused at that phrasing, and then gave a nod. The hat was theirs. It reminded them, the way it cut off their vision. It kept their eyes forward, and down. Above was only the same stars they always knew…They wondered if that was how everyone else saw the world all the time? But, Isabeau was turning, and starting to look around.

"Rusted garden shears…" Siffrin's wince was missed, thankfully. "A weird needle-pointed sword, some shades, I wonder what all this is about?" The thought made you step up, and look at what Isabeau had found. That was right…It looked like all the equipment you never found, in that last fateful loop, had somehow wound up here. Minus the fish book…Itchy-ology? Icky-ology? Something like that. The fish book, the earrings, and it looked like Bonbon's 'weapons' weren't there either. But the rest of it, all gathered up in one place, like someone'd put it there on purpose.

The world tilted under you.

It wasn't the first time you'd felt that, and you gripped your hands into fists. You were here. You were now. Gravity still worked. Breathing still worked. Don't get lost, Siffrin! Don't lose it, Siffrin! Bob your knees, feel the way the world feels under your feet. Close your eyes, then open them again, and look at things fresh, without the tilt your brain put on it. The tilt wasn't real.

It felt real.

It felt more real than the world around you. You reached out, and touched the sword's hilt, before jerking your hand back like you were burned. Was it going to vanish, now that you've seen it? Would…could…the universe still reset itself? Did you still have its eye? No. The sword was still there, just like the rest, just like the hat on your head, just like all of it.

Isa said something. You couldn't hear what. The words pulsed in your ears, your head throbbing at the tempo of the sounds, but you didn't understand them. Sorry, Siffrin's not here right now, can I take a message? You laughed, and even in your own throbbing ears it sounded like half a sob.

You were hugged! You were held! Hands were around you!

You jumped at the feeling, but it did ground you. The feeling pushed you back into your body like a puzzle piece slotted into place, and whoever held you turned you away from those…items. Dishware, it turned out, was on the other side. Dishes and cups, ancient and cracked, dusty even here.

"You back, Sif?" Isabeau. Isa. He's here. He's holding you. He's…Holding you. You could feel the way every little shift of your breath made sensation flare over your body, the slightest motion pulling and pushing your skin in ways you aren't anticipating, and you shiver. You can't pull away…You can't. You can't tell him this isn't what you want. You have to stay here. You aren't sure why that's what your mind latched onto, but it was true. You wanted to stay there in his arms, even if the back of your brain was screaming about the way it felt.

Stay there. Breathe. Worry later. Breathe. Respond.

"I'm back. But…I think we need to go." You managed, at your breathiest.

"Okay…Do you want to go alone, or should I stay with you?"

Considerate Isabeau. Always at your side, as long as you'll let him be.

"Stay. I'll follow you…we still need to pay for the hat. And, I'm sorry, Isa. About…"

"Don't worry about it!" He cut you off, which was good because you didn't have the words to continue that thought. "I wasn't sure what we were looking for, but it sure wasn't that! We can finish up our secret quest some other day."

You smiled. You'd have to explain yourself later, but…For now, Isabeau was there. Your rock. Your personal Savior.

You were glad to have him.

+++

"Just a collection of…items?" Odile asked, and all you could do was nod.

"Some shears, a hat, a sword, a bow…Just things you'd find in any store. You're sure you don't know?"

"Not at all. He's never done that before."

Siffrin had vanished off to your shared room when you returned, clutching the hat tight to his chest. You promised you'd give him space, and you'd ask before you came in, but in the meantime you felt like you had to solve this mystery. If it hurt Siffrin, you want to know about it, and stop it! Whether he believed it or not!

But this…

"It hit him hard. Almost as hard as that time Mira woke him up from his nap." You didn't think anything would compare to that day. "And he was alright when he wasn't looking at them, like Jinn said. I'm glad I didn't let him go alone."

"You said he found a hat? That he thought he should wear? A sword, like Mirabelle has…and a bow, like she wears. Glasses like mine…" Odile took a moment to adjust her glasses. "I believe I'll be going shopping, Isabeau. If you think you can help him alone?"

You gave a nod, trying not to think about what Odile was saying. You didn't see any gloves there, and with a clench of your hands you felt your crystal knuckles at the ready. Whatever was happening, you couldn't help but wonder how you were excluded from it. As much as you tried not to.

Instead of dwelling on that, you walked upstairs and knocked on the door to your shared room, waiting for the faint sound of 'come in'. Thank Change, it wasn't too long in coming.

Siffrin was staring at his hat when you came in, curled with his knees up near his chin on the bed and facing towards the door. One finger had been tracing the lines on the inside of it, and rested there as you walked in and gently shut the door.

"Want to talk about it?" You asked, hoping against hope.

"No."

"That's a shame." You walked over to the bed, and sat down, watching them. It was a practiced motion, and you both knew what it meant. You saw Siffrin set the hat down, saw him order his words, and saw him decide to speak - and made sure he saw the thankful smile that came from that decision.

"They were from the House. Each one of them was…a piece of the story that never happened. Something else that I left behind." Left behind was good! You liked left behind! It was a lot better than 'crabbed up' or 'completely blinded' or anything else they'd called it! "When I saw them, I…I just remembered. Everything I'd been forgetting. Everything I didn't get to do. Everything I tried to go back and do." You liked that less, but…the phrasing wasn't bad, at least. "I don't know how they got here, but it was like they were tracking me down, to find me again."

"Would you…like new memories with them?" Another one of the doctor's suggestions. "Or do you want to put those behind you? We don't have to go back, but now that you remember…wouldn't it be nice to prove this time was better than anything you left behind?"

"Yeah…Thanks, Isa." They reached a hand out, and you smiled brightly. Another concession, another suggestion, and you took his hand and used your thumb to slide the glove up the back of it, before planting a gentle kiss on the back of it.

Not! That you did that every time! But, every time he opened up, you wanted to give him something. And showing him how you loved him? You'd do that whenever he let you. This was a good chance.

From the smile in their eyes, they agreed.

#isat fanfic #lwlau #btvau #lwl isabeau #isat au #isat #in stars and time #isat siffrin

53 notes · View notes