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trianglegoddess · 7 months ago

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Feral McGee™

It starts with the Joker.

His goons picked up Tim Drake. Not specifically because it was Tim Drake, he just so happened to be in the Joker’s neighborhood, and we'll, he can't pass up that opportunity now can he?

Except Tim Drake is watching, along with the rest of Gotham, at the Batcomputer. He’s nursing a broken foot and has been put on monitor duty until he's cleared for field work again.

The guy looks enough like him, though. Black hair, blue eyes, and bags under his eyes for days. He's also got the same lean sort of build like he does.

It happens like this.

The Joker is doing his monologue thing where he explains whatever twisted game he's come up with this time. He takes up the majority of the screen, so nobody can see Not-Tim behind him, not until the big reveal. Then he covers the screen again, getting up close and personal, before stepping back. In those quick few seconds, Not-Tim is no longer sitting there tied to the chair.

Someone off camera lets the Joker know, and he whirls around, confused as the rest of Gotham.

And then Not-Tim comes in with the steel chair.

Or, well, a crowbar, but the reference holds up.

He takes out one of Joker’s knees before punching him in the face. The Joker drops like a bag of stones, out cold.

Then he looks towards the camera.

“Hey there. I'm not really sure where I am, but also if he was after Tim Drake, he got the wrong guy. I'm not him, I'm just some dude. Anyway, I'll just-yep-” he carefully steps over the unconscious Joker, gives the camera a little wave, and then leaves.

Batman and Nightwing enter shortly after, with the Joker and his goons out cold and tied up. The knots were complicated enough where, in the end, the police resorted to cutting the ties off of them so they could be properly cuffed and taken to Arkham.

“A constrictor knot,” Batman tells Nightwing as they watch the villain be taken away. “Often used by sailors to temporarily tie things together to keep something in a bag, or to hold something to glue it back together.”

“Huh,” Nightwing says, scratching the back of his head. “Go figure.”

—

The next time it happens, it’s the Riddler.

He’s laughing, giving his riddles to the Bats and recording himself to all of Gotham while his victim, one of the Wayne brats, hangs over a vat of something. From a distance, he looks like Tim Drake, or maybe a lankier Dick Grayson. And he’s not the only victim, they’re all scattered across the city, but he thought an important figure such as a Wayne should be under the Riddler’s direct supervision while he enacts his schemes.

While the Riddler cackles and plots and waves his cane around, in the background all of Gotham can see the figure escape. Several Gothamites recognize him as the kid from before, who clocked the Joker. They all watch with bated breath as he sort of wiggles his way out of the ropes holding him up. Once he’s free, he climbs the rope and gets himself down safely.

Gotham holds their breath as the kid casually walks up to the Riddler, who’s mid-rant. He politely taps him on the shoulder, and as the Riddler is turning around, the kid clocks him just as brutally as he had the Joker. He’s down with one punch.

They think he’s going to say another sort of awkward goodbye, but instead he pats the Riddler down until he finds a piece of paper tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Right,” the kid says, looking at the list. There’s a lot more static overlay now, and several wonder if it’s damage to the cameras. “Uh, the Clocktower, the Docks, and-” he squints at the page for a moment-”Mama Nacaroni’s? What the fuck is that? Anyway, uh. See you later, I guess. Oh! And we’re at the Gotham Arena. Have fun with him, I guess.”

The kid tosses the paper off to the side before the camera cuts to black.

Just like last time, everyone is out cold and tied up. The Riddler himself is sporting a pretty bad shiner, but well deserved nonetheless.

“Stop it,” Red Hood tells him. Batman just looks at him, and though Hood can’t see the top half of his face, he can tell that his eyebrow is raised. “You know exactly what I mean, B. Put the adoption papers away.”

“Hn.”

—

After that, it sorta becomes a game. The rogues of Gotham are no longer after a Wayne, or after anybody who holds any kind of social status like usual. They’re all going after this one kid, all determined to be the one to hold him. And each one is televised.

Mr. Freeze freezes him in a block of ice, but due to the cameras glitching out, nobody can really see how he got free. They do, however, see the kid suplex Mr. Freeze. It should seem impossible, given his lanky figure, but he evidently has more muscle than he’s originally let on.

Two-Face gets a hold of him, using chains and some power-dampening cuffs just on the off-chance that he’s a meta. They all watch as the kid leans down, pulls a bobby pin out of his hair, and picks the locks on his cuffs. One punch, and Two-Face is down.

Gothamites are going wild for the kid. They’ve dubbed him Feral McGee™ (an online poll, of course), because every time he goes in for the punch he gets this feral look in his eyes. Also, just the fact that he casually goes up to these rogues and takes them out with all the casualness of doing something incredibly mundane? Incredible. The Gothamites are eating it up. However, despite the video evidence, nobody has been able to properly identify the kid. They know he has black hair and bright eyes, but any time he gets near a camera, it’s like there’s this weird, sort of warped quality the camera takes on. It doesn’t usually calm down until the fight is done-as one sided as they usually are-before he awkwardly skedaddles away.

He gets kidnapped by the Penguin, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy (though that was more just a friendly chat than anything), Mad Hatter, and the Riddler again.

And then the Joker escapes.

It’s no surprise as to who he’s going to go after.

Due to one too many careless goons, they manage to find their way to the Joker’s hideout pretty quickly. This time, it’s all Bats on deck, and they all hide away in the rafters as Feral McGee™ is hung over a vat of acid. His whole body is tied up, hardly a single inch of exposed skin to be seen except for the neck up.

They watch the goons, they watch the Joker, and they watch Feral McGee™.

The Joker is monologuing, practically begging the bats to come find him before the timer runs out. When it does, the kid gets dumped into the vat of acid.

Despite these stakes, the kid seems to be only mildly annoyed.

“Fuck this, I have homework I still need to finish,” they hear him say.

They all watch, amazed and confused, as the kid starts gnawing through the ropes. Human teeth shouldn’t be able to do that so easily, but one bit after the other, and soon enough the kid’s got himself freed enough to just climb up the rest of the rope. When he’s at the top of the crane holding him up, Batman lets down a rope and pulls the kid up and out of danger.

“Oh, cool, you’re all here,” the kid says casually, as if meeting the entire Bat Clan is just a normal Tuesday. And then he pulls out a notepad and pen and hands it to Red Hood.

“Can I get an autograph? You’re dope as fuck, dude.”

Red Hood has to look away and hide his face in his arms for a few moments to not give away their location with his laughter before signing. And then, one by one, the others do as well. They pass along the kid’s notebook with shit-eating grins and barely contained snickers despite the fact that the Joker is still right below them. Even Batman signs it, after his children don’t stop hounding him about it.

In their distraction, they didn’t see the kid sneak away. He’s far away from them now, nearly right over the Joker. Danny waits, though, until the Joker has turned around as the timer almost runs out. They watch as he snickers at Joker’s flabbergasted look. The Joker comically looks back and forth and under objects the kid obviously isn’t under. However, before he can do or say anything else, the kid drops from the rafters and right on top of the Joker. He crumples to the ground, unconscious. The kid, however, just brushes the dust off of himself. Despite the fall he took, there isn’t a scratch on him.

When the bats join him, they give his notepad back to him, barely able to contain their laughter at the absurdity of it all. The kid, too, joins in the camaraderie, laughing and joking along with them as Batman secures the Joker.

“Okay, okay, but I gotta ask, dude,” Red Hood says at one point, looking at the kid. “How do you keep getting kidnapped?”

The kid just shrugs. “I get distracted easily. And I’m sleep deprived, so you know. Social awareness is kind of at an all time low right now.”

“Why are you sleep deprived?” Nightwing asks, barely hidden concern in his voice.

“Finals are kinda kicking my ass right now. Especially this dumb English homework I have. You guys wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, lucky for you,” Red Hood says, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulders as he walks them out of the warehouse, “I happen to know a lot about English. So, it is Shakespeare?”

“Yeah, Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

As they walk off, Batman calmly watches, though the rest of the bats can see his jaw twitching. Nightwing comes up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“If you don’t adopt him, I will.”

“Hn.”

#danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #bruce wayne #dc #batclan #batfam #joker #danny is a feral human #dp x dc #dc x dp

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consultingskeletondetective · 1 year ago

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Colonel's Girl

You’re the young army nurse on base and König decides to keep a protective eye on you. You don’t mind at all, the Colonel is sweet and safe - until he isn’t.

masterlist 🩷 ao3

tags: military inaccuracies, blood and injury, angst, smut, oral sex, vaginal sex

This was your first time on a real military base. You’d done field medic training of course, but this was the first time in your career as an army nurse that you’d been shipped out to base, far from home, calling a tiny bunk room your own in a building full of rowdy young recruits.

Their daily training brought them to you constantly with scrapes and bruises and concussions. They were feisty, adrenaline-fuelled young men, and you were one of the few women on base. The catcalling and the leering didn’t surprise you, even if it was unwelcome.

“What time do you get off, darlin’?” Private Turner drawled in a cockney accent as you applied butterfly stitches to a bleeding split across his eyebrow. “Maybe I can come to your room and we can keep each other company-”

“Turner!” It was barked, a stern command from an accented voice. The private paled as Colonel König stomped into your clinic, and you blushed. König was a very imposing man. He was at least 6”9 by your reckoning, and just as broad, in his late 30s or early 40s with a thick Austrian accent. His years of military training had given him a thick, muscular frame, with his broad thighs barely contained in cargo trousers and steel-capped boots on his feet, a black tee stretched over his chest and biceps the size of your torso. You knew what he looked like under that hood, square jawed and piercing blue eyes, but today he’d kept it on, his eyes framed and dark. It was no surprise you blushed whenever you saw him.

“Colonel?” He stood and turned. His voice held none of its previous bravado. Next to König, he looked like a mere boy.

“Two weeks of toilet cleaning duty.” König said gruffly, “and if I catch you using that kind of language again, it will be a month. Understood?”

Turner slumped. “Yes, sir.”

“Get out of my sight.”

Turner, chastised, scampered out of your clinic without looking at you.

König turned his hulking form towards you and actually had to look down to greet you.

“Pardon, ma’am. He won’t step out of line again.”

Ma’am . Your blush deepened. You gave him a small, nervous smile.

“Thank you, Colonel, that’s very kind of you.”

“These boys don’t know yet how to respect a lady, but they will.”

“Once you’re done with them?” You smiled playfully.

“If I have done my job correctly.” He said kindly, before turning on his heel and leaving swiftly. You giggled.

You didn’t see much of König at the start of training, his rank and his experience meant that he didn’t end up in your clinic as much as his recruits did, but when you did pass each other in the hall or by exchanging paperwork, he was nothing less than a courteous and charming gentleman. It seemed bizarre, considering you’d heard tell that he was a brawling killing machine out on the field, but he could switch from barking stiff orders to giving you a gentle smile that made you blush in the blink of an eye. You had to routinely remind yourself that this didn’t make you special, he was just being respectful, and you weren’t used to that. It didn’t matter that he was a soldier, or nearly twice your age, it didn’t take you long to develop a crush on the handsome and mysterious Austrian.

A few days later and you were stood in line to the mess hall. It was breakfast, and you’d seen the black pudding in the warming trays as soon as you’d stepped in. You were practically salivating as you waited, it wasn’t often you got a creature comfort like this - something that reminded you of home - on base.

“Not often we get this kind of luxury, eh, miss?” You recognised the coarse accent before you turned. Lieutenant Riley had joined you in the line, a balaclava covering his face. You knew him a little, the infamous Ghost. You’d crossed paths with the 141 on occasion, and you knew Riley, sometimes even Captain Price, dropped into the base to provide training or engage your services. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to make polite conversation with you. In fact, it seemed the norm here. The high rankers felt a bit sorry for you, while the recruits made you feel like a piece of meat or an object of ridicule.

You didn’t mind much, you were here to do a job, and you kept to yourself mostly anyway, but the offer of friendship was much appreciated.

You smiled a little shyly in return. “I know, right? I hope the black pudding doesn’t go too quickly. I’ve been thinking about it all morning.”

“A girl after my own heart.” The lieutenant chuckled. In front of you, two privates who had been turning around to eavesdrop on the conversation - more to get a look at Ghost, than you, you understood - burst into laughing at your admission. Your ears turned red and you wished you’d never opened your mouth.

Riley didn’t seem to notice, he was holding his gloved hand out to König, who had somehow appeared next to him in the line since you’d looked away. You actually had to do a double take. For a near seven foot slab of muscle, he was stealthy when he wanted to be.

The two of them talked among themselves in low voices and you left them to it, knowing you didn’t particularly want to hear the contents of whatever they needed to discuss.

You reached the front of the line and the private in front of you - the one who had laughed - piled his tray high with black pudding until the warming tray was empty. He turned and smirked mockingly at you.

“You can have my sausage, darlin’, if you ask nicely.” At least three recruits laughed. You wanted to shrink down so small you stopped existing altogether.

König’s brick hand clamped around the private’s tray and wrenched it easily from his grip.

“Sir-my breakfast…”

“Get out of the line, or I will feed you my fist.” König didn’t even raise his voice, the cold delivery had the private skulking off empty handed. König placed the tray back onto the counter and then he turned to you.

“Help yourself, ma’am.”

“Oh.” Your cheeks were crimson. He cocked his head, his eyes, the only part of his face visible through his black hood, looked amused. It wasn’t unkind. “T-thank you.”

König tipped his hood towards you before turning his attention back to Riley, and the pair of them moved off to a separate table. You sat by yourself, chewing your black pudding, and smiling like an idiot.

You glanced over to König a few times more than you would like to admit. He put you at ease, that’s what it came down to, it gave you a confidence you didn’t usually have around military men.

It was that very ease that left you wholly unprepared for the following week.

It was ballistics training out on the grounds, and you caught wind of an accident halfway through your sandwich.

“Come quick!’ An officer skidded into your office, “there’s been an accident - potential fatality.”

You cursed, and gathered your supplies, before following him out of your clinic and out onto the training ground. Recruits stood nervously holding rifles, their half-shot targets abandoned. A young recruit was wailing on the ground, another kneeling beside him and pressing against his belly with a jacket, there was blood on the sand.

König was towering over a young private - the same young man who had laughed at you in the mess hall, you briefly noted - and barking bloody murder in his terrified face. It took you more than a moment to realise that König wasn’t actually speaking German, you could just barely make a word out in his fury.

It was easy to tune out, you’d been out in the field before, and turn your attention to your patient. You knelt beside the terrified looking private stemming the bleeding, and carefully lifted his jacket to look at his wound while the young man screamed.

“You’re going to be okay.” You said confidently, calmly. “It’s nothing we can’t stitch up. Private, keep putting pressure on the wound, just like this, you’re doing a good job.” Just this once, you were obeyed without question.

“I will have you court-martialed, dummkopf, you could have killed him. You come onto my base, you do not listen to a word I say, and now you attack my men? You sorry piece of -”

“König,” you cut through the accented remonstration, pulling bandages from your bag, “I need your men to carry him to my clinic immediately, then you have to-”

König turned swiftly to you, those bright blue eyes visibly narrowed in the slits of his hood. “Do not fucking give me orders, nurse.” He seethed, voice ice cold with rage, fists clenched and towering over you. “You address me as Colonel, you little girl.” The white hot fury in his eyes matched the venom in his voice. You baulked, in fear, in surprise, horrified to realise tears were gathering in your eyes. You looked back down on the man in your arms and forced yourself to regain your composure.

“I need to get him to my clinic, I can’t lift him myself.” Your voice was steady, if muted, throwing your gaze over your shoulder at König and the recruits staring at you. “Please, colonel .”

König turned from you and began barking your orders at his men and within moments, your patient was being carried between three recruits back to your clinic. You turned and rushed after them. You extracted the bullet from his ribs and sewed up the damage as numbly as you treated any one of your patients. You left your makeshift surgery room with bloody hands and sweat on your forehead, surprised to find König leaning against the wall in your waiting room. He’d stripped out of his uniform to a simple pair of combat trousers and a black shirt that looked like it was losing a fight with his bicep muscles. His hood was held lax in his hand, giving you a rare glimpse at his face. It was no surprise to you that he looked exhausted. He pushed himself from the wall when you entered. Like a gentleman , you thought bitterly.

“Will he live?” He asked you, his voice soft. It was just like every other interaction you’d had on base.

“It was a flesh wound. He’ll be fine, Colonel.” Your words were stiff, and you walked straight past him without even a glance, feeling like a complete idiot that you’d ever thought he might treat you with the slightest bit of respect. You were angry until the adrenaline wore off, then you cried in your bed.

The recruit, Jenkins, pulled through the night, and the next day he was airlifted to the nearest hospital. The accidental shooter was gone, and you didn’t care to ask what had happened. Training was halted for a few days as a result and you had a quiet week, but you weren’t complaining, as you now had a mountainous amount of paperwork to complete. You were grateful when you were able to file the heft of paper into your pigeon hole to be sent off, and rewarded yourself with a sit down in the breakroom to the main office.

You looked up on instinct more than anything when the door opened. König walked in, in combat boots and a military vest, his hood over his eyes and helmet strapped to his head, like he’d just come straight from deployment. He glanced at you with tired blue eyes, but all you could see was the fury in them when he’d scared you the week before. You felt stupid for thinking someone like König would ever be nice to you. You were just the idiot girl on base.

“Morning, ma’am.” He said pleasantly when he saw you, slipping one hand into his trouser pocket as he poured himself coffee from the pot on the table.

“Hey.” You replied, voice flat, suddenly finding your nails remarkably interesting.

“Is everything okay?”

“Fine.” Another one word answer. You still weren’t looking at him.

König shifted uneasily. The atmosphere in the room changed. Of course it did, he was used to you being a blushy, smiling, pathetic mess for him.

Concerned, König crossed the small space to you. He didn’t sit. From what you could see from your lowered head, his hand was no longer in his pocket.

“If this is about what happened…you did well, Jenkins will recover.”

“I know I did fine.” You genuinely didn’t mean to snap. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”

The conversation went dead, the atmosphere was palpable. You didn’t know whether it was his culture, or his military status, but König went right to the point.

“Have I offended you?”

Was he being willfully obstinate? You felt your humiliated aggravation grow. Well, you were in it now.

“Just leave me alone.”

There was a pause. And then another. Neither of you moved.

“As you wish.”

He left swiftly after that, and you finally looked up at the empty room. You felt relieved, but also hollow. It was almost like you’d done something wrong. But you hadn’t, had you? König’s coffee was abandoned on the table.

König left you alone, and that pissed you off even more. He walked past you in the mess hall, he didn’t glance down to smile at you anymore, he didn’t come into the clinic, even though you secretly hoped he would. Your self-esteem was pretty much on the floor after that, and the base got just that little bit lonelier.

Two recruits barrelled into your office a few days later, one had a busted lip and they both had black eyes. They'd clearly been in a fight, but whether that was with each other, or someone else, you didn’t care to ask. You stayed quiet as you applied butterfly stitches to their cuts, and they were happy enough to complain between themselves.

“You’re a dickhead, Williams, the Colonel’s gonna fucking kill us.”

“Relax, he’s not going to know.”

“He’s been such a dick lately. He put Taylor on shit detail for a fortnight for having his shoelace untied.”

“Probably because he has to look at your fucking ugly mug every day.”

“You’re done.” You cut across. “You can go.”

They thanked you and left, and you were grateful to get the foul mouthed privates out of your office.

It was getting dark outside and you were tired. You left your clinic and crossed the training ground to the mess hall. There were still soldiers out here, practising hand to hand combat under the floodlights. You gave them a wide berth.

You didn’t see the abandoned dummy grenade wedged in the sand until your foot hooked around it and you vaulted over with an unladylike grunt.

A large hand curled around your wrist and stilled you before you ate dirt. You cursed under your breath and turned inward. König was towering above you, your wrist positively dwarfed by his gloved hand. His hood obscured his face, shrouding him in the darkness behind him, all except those bright eyes looking down on you.

“You should be more careful.” He grunted, releasing your wrist.

Your eyes hit the ground and you mumbled a hasty ‘sorry’ before you scampered away to the mess hall. König watched your retreating back as you left.

The next few days passed uneventfully. You worked, you ate, you slept, you called home. The clinic was surprisingly empty. You wondered if the recruits were finally becoming competent enough that they didn’t need you every five seconds. You signed off your discharge sheets for the day and headed to the main office to dump them in the output box. You were surprised to find König in there, sans hood, rifling through a box of papers on the desk. He glanced up when he saw you and his expression wilted. He looked back into the box.

“I’ll be out of your hair in a second.” He said. “I just need to find the instruction manual for the - s cheiße .” The papers in his hand fluttered to the ground. He bent down to retrieve them and winced, arm circling his broad torso.

You frowned and took a step closer to him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Nothing.” He replied instantly as he straightened. His movements were slower than usual.

“It doesn’t look like nothing, König, it looks like cracked ribs.”

“It’s fine, really.”

You put your discharge forms on the desk and walked up to him. “Lift your shirt.”

König sighed but complied after a moment. He lifted his dark tee to his pectorals. His deep abdominal muscles rose and fell under his breathing and you found your cheeks reddening under the sight. A makeshift bandage was wrapped around his torso, and you reached out and lifted it. His skin was like lava against your fingers. He didn’t say a word as you lifted the bandage but he may have winced when your eyes widened. The right hand side of his ribcage was purple with deep bruising and lacerated with deep and shallow cuts alike, some were healing, and some were leaving blood stains on the inside of the bandage.

“Oh my god, what happened?”

“Nothing.” König grunted. “Machine gun training. One of the recruits lost control of the barrel and clocked me in the ribs. It is just a scratch.”

“This cut needs stitches.” You said automatically, tracing the underside of the welt with your fingertip. König jolted and you took your hand away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you-”

“You didn’t.” He replied.

“I have cream that’ll reduce this bruising too-” König huffed and you looked up at him. You couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face. He might as well have been wearing his hood.

“It is fine.” He said. “The bruising has disappeared a lot in the last few days…”

“ Days ?” You blinked. “Days, König? You can’t have been walking around like this for days. Why didn’t you come to me?”

There was a pause. He was trying to avoid your gaze.

“You told me to leave you alone.”

“König,” it was reprimanding, reproachful, your eyes slackened. “You always need to come to me when you’re hurt, even when I’m mad. I’m sorry.”

König’s eyes snapping to you made you regret the words as soon as they were out of your mouth. Your gaze dropped to the grazes on his ribs but your cheeks were already on fire.

“Are you ever going to tell me why you are mad at me?”

You didn’t meet his gaze. It seemed pathetic now. “You yelled at me.”

König didn’t respond straight away. When he did - “I yelled at you?”

You fought off the sudden urge to say sorry.

“When Jenkins was shot.” You explained. “I’m not one of your soldiers. I don’t like being screamed at, especially when I’m doing my job.” Your voice dropped a little. “And I’m not a little girl, I’m a nurse. You should respect that, just like the way you tell your troops to.”

You glanced up at König, he looked crestfallen. “I…” He frowned a little, as if giving up on any explanation he planned to give. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head, embarrassed, and lowered his shirt.

“It’s not important now-”

“It is important. I don’t think you are a little girl. Sometimes in battle, things like this become heated. I do not even remember saying this to you, but I am sorry. I do not think that, I truly do not, I was…one of my men was dying, I was not myself. Please forgive me.”

Your eyes met. It felt like the first time you’d looked at each other in a long time. König’s blue eyes were soft and sad.

“Um, come to the clinic, this afternoon,” you rose, flustered, “I, uh, that cut needs looking at.”

You turned swiftly and left but not before you heard König utter a single ‘yes ma’am’ before you did.

You thought about what he said as you sterilised your clinic for his arrival. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment, but you managed to keep your cool? Why didn’t he? Because he’s a soldier, you reminded yourself. He kills easily and without thought, he’s not the sweet gentleman you want him to be. You shook your head to yourself, that wasn’t the issue and you knew it. You didn’t care that he was a killer, or that sometimes he scared you. You knew what his easy dismissal of you meant - and it hurt.

König reported promptly to your clinic at 1pm that afternoon. He stripped out of his shirt and sat patiently down on the end of your bed and you had to pretend like having a 7ft goliath of a man stripped down in front of you wasn’t making your heart race. He truly was extraordinary.

You stitched the large cut on his ribs that was worrying you the most and he didn’t make a sound. it didn’t much surprise you, you assumed he was accustomed to pain. It made your stomach flutter with something .

He was even more impressive undressed, his body heavy with swollen, toned muscle, faded scars criss-crossing over his flesh. You had to remind yourself that you were a trained nurse just to stop yourself from drooling.

König watched you work rather intently. “You have very small hands.” He remarked suddenly. You didn’t respond, unsure if it was a compliment or not. You both lapsed into silence for another long while. It was like a form of torture. You’d never been more embarrassed in your life. You felt like a foolish little girl, trying to play with a grizzly bear. It must have shown on your face.

You didn’t expect König to talk again. He must have thought that you were insane - pathetic, at the very least.

“May I ask you a question?”

Oh. “Of course.”

“Why did you join the military if you hate being yelled at?”

You sighed and finished off your final stitch. “You don’t have to mock me, you know, I already got the message.”

“I am not mocking you. I’m curious.”

Forthright . You forgot.

You took a moment to respond, busying yourself with packing away your equipment. “I didn’t join as a recruit, I joined as a nurse.” You didn’t tell him the real reason, that it was because it was him.

“Right.”

“It’s not your problem.”

König stood, and pulled his shirt back on. “It won't happen again.” He said. “You have my word.”

Your gaze flicked to his handsome face involuntarily. “Um, here’s the cream. Make sure to apply it twice a day, and try to take it easy for a few days.”

König grunted, a ghost of a smile on his face. You could tell he hadn’t taken it easy a day in his life.

“What message?” König asked suddenly.

“Sorry?” You froze, trying to backtrack to that particular exchange.

“You said you ‘got the message’.” He repeated. “What message?”

Oh.

“Um, did I say that?” Your voice was uncharacteristically high. König tilted his head.

“Schatz, my English isn’t that bad. We both heard what you said.”

You blushed and your head dipped. You didn’t know much German, but you knew what ‘schatz’ meant.

“Well, you know-” fuck, shit, fuck . “P-put in your place by the guy you have a crush on. I get it. I got it. I won’t go there again.”

“Crush?” König responded like a lightning strike, before he fell silent. His brain was calculating, before his expression turned to…well, there was no other way to put it, absolutely fucking floored. “You like me?”

Oh, this was very fucking bad.

“Well…yeah? I thought it was obvious-”

“Obvious? Schatz, I thought you hated��me.”

You blinked.

“Wha- why would you think that?”

“You told me to leave you alone.”

“You called me a little girl! In front of everyone.”

When exactly had you both gotten so close to each other? It was close enough that König could look down on you, and your heart was skipping a beat.

“You can’t like me.” He said quietly.

You frowned. “Why not? Have you looked at yourself? Plus you’re…you know, nice, and the only person in this dump that doesn’t leer at me or treat me like a stupid little girl. When people aren’t dying, I mean.”

“I…” Was König hesitating? The man who had nothing to fear?

“It’s okay,” you murmured, embarrassed. “Like I said, I get the message. Why would you want a pathetic sap like me who can’t even hear a raised voice without crying?”

“Do not say that.” König looked uncertain, his eyebrows knitting together. “You are like a...a flower. Not meant for men like me.”

“A…” Your brain couldn’t quite compute what you’d just heard. “Men like you? What does that even mean?”

“You need someone younger, for a start.” He sighed. “Someone who has seen less death, verdammt, someone who has caused less death.”

“Men like your idiot recruits, then?”

König didn’t respond.

“I have to go.” He said instead. “Thank you for the…cream.”

“Anytime, Colonel.” It was softly spoken, you watched him freeze, then you watched him go. You smuggled a bottle of wine back to your room and drank until you fell asleep. This really was a new low.

…

The days passed slowly and without incident. On the face of it, there was no difference in you, except for a notably lacklustre delivery of your care.

You were making notes at your desk when Private Jackson and his buddy, Williams, appeared at your desk, complaining of a groin injury.

You rolled your eyes and returned to your paperwork. “I’m sure it’ll feel better tomorrow, private.”

“I’m sure it’ll feel better right now if you kiss it-”

“Shut up,” Williams chuckled, shoving him, “you wanna get a disciplinary? You know she’s the colonel’s girl.”

Your gaze snapped up. “What did you just say?”

Neither of them answered you, they just sniggered and slunk off. You watched the empty doorway with wide eyes. You tried not to ponder on it. You pondered on it for the rest of the day.

…

You signed the bottom of Williams’ sick leave and ticked off the various appropriate boxes, flipping the page and hoping that was all that was required until you froze. It needed the signature of the patient's C.O. König. Shit.

You hadn’t even seen König since he’d rejected you and every time you thought about that particular exchange, your ears went hot and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

You were too much of a pussy to talk to him, so instead you went to his office when you knew he was scheduled to be out at training, and scribbled ‘ sign me please :) ’ on a post it note, stuck it on the front page and left the form on his desk.

You turned for the door with a relieved sigh and accidently walked into König’s solid chest. He was standing in the open doorway, he was the size of the open doorway, wearing his combat gear although he was unarmed, his hood draped covering his face, even so, you could see he was looking down on you. It wasn’t until you glanced up that you realised he was ducking to fit in the doorway. That sent heat right to your cunt.

“Oh, hello.” You said stupidly, eyes hitting the carpeted floor.

“Hello.” He greeted you, accent gentle. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, right, I’m in your office.” You stumbled over your words. “Um, W-Williams needs sick leave approved, he needs gallbladder surgery off base, I need you to sign the form. I - I left it on your desk.”

König walked past you, he smelt of sweat and sand and some sort of hastily applied deodorant. He seemed unfazed that you were in his office, he certainly didn’t seem to be trying to avoid you as ardently as you were avoiding him. You cursed yourself for being so childish.

He removed his hood and draped it over the back of his chair as he picked up the form. His eyes were darkened with war paint, fresh stubble on his jaw.

“A smiling face.” He remarked as he read your post it note, voice muted. “The way yours used to be.”

You blinked. “Is that meant to be some kind of joke?” You asked hotly.

“Not at all.” He replied, not looking up from the form. “It used to brighten my days.” He signed the form and held it out to you before you could really process what he’d said. “Let us hope Williams makes a swift recovery, he is one of my best.”

You tentatively took the form, mind drawn back to the last encounter you’d had with the young private.

“He called me…” You bit back your sentence before you had a chance to finish it. But the damage was done.

König’s back straightened, his fists clenched. “Something inappropriate?”

“No.” Your shoulders hunched. Why did you even bring it up? “He said I was…they’re calling me…you know…the colonel’s girl.”

You glanced up at König shyly, to see if there was any truth in it. His back had relaxed, but his stance was still guarded.

“What?” You asked.

“I told the recruits to leave you alone.” He admitted. “Or there would be consequences.”

“Oh.” You blushed. “But, that’s not a bad thing, is it?”

“No, it’s not…some of the men have interpreted the order to mean I am keeping you for myself.”

You took a bold step forward.

“And are you?”

König looked at the floor. You sighed and turned for the door.

König’s large hand curled around the front of your throat before you could turn and drew you back, right to his mouth. You whimpered into the kiss. You were forced onto your tiptoes to meet him, feeling his fingers against your oesophagus with every exhale. His lips eased wetly and insistently against yours until you were dizzy, gripping his arms and pressing yourself closer.

As soon as it started, it was over. König released your throat and took a step back. You had to blink a few times to regain just a few of your senses. You were still on your tiptoes, and you could still taste him on your mouth. Gunpower, and mint.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I shouldn’t have done that.” His voice was ragged, his accent even thicker than usual. Fuck, it was hot.

He turned and left before you could even articulate a response, but you were sure you saw his back muscles twitching as he went.

…

The deployment for the first active mission came about quicker than anyone had been expecting. It was practically a dummy mission, you’d been told, leading a team of recruits on a sweep near cartel lands for stray activity or potential landmines. Still, the atmosphere was palpable in the base, the recruits were scared, you could tell.

You watched from the doorway of your clinic as the men stood by the jeeps, ready to roll out. Riley had returned, and he stood next to König as the latter zipped up his kevlar and clipped on his helmet over his hood. You wanted to wish him luck, even though you knew everything was going to be fine. It was a routine sweep, and he was König, he wasn’t in any danger. Still, your stomach pulled. Fate was cruel. What if this was the last time you ever saw him?

You scrunched your eyes shut, called yourself an idiot, and jogged across the sand of the training field.

Riley saw you first, he knocked König on the chest to alert him - you tried not to read into that - König turned, face obscured, body heavy with kevlar and weaponry. He had to lower his head to look at you.

“Schatz?”

Your insides ached at the familiar term of endearment that you didn’t deserve. Your mouth was as dry as the sand you were stood on, and you suddenly didn’t know what to say. Don’t go? Come back? How could you say any of those things to the man who didn’t want you.

König solved your problem for you. His fingers closed around your tricep, and his thumb stroked just once.

“Look after yourself.” You said quietly.

He nodded before he dropped your arm. Then you watched as they got into the jeeps and drove away.

…

The recruits were returned to you on a daily basis. Apparently, the drop point of the sweep was particularly hot for cartel soldiers, ready and willing to engage in battle. The wounds you were treating now were not the cuts and scrapes of training, it was cracked skulls and broken bones and lacerated flesh. And the men, Turner, Williams, Jackson, they weren’t the scrappy, joking lads they’d once been, they were crying and they were scared.

You slept when you could but you were always exhausted. You were waiting for the first time one of them died on you.

You were awoken that night by a loud, insistent banging on your door. You jumped out of bed and tied your robe around yourself, already gathering your hair up to tie it back.

“What’s happened?” You called, opening the door, “who is it…oh.”

It took a moment for you to realise that you weren’t staring at the pitch black of night, but rather directly at König’s chest. He stood in a dark shirt, helmet removed, hood covering his face, head disappearing behind your doorway, but his blue eyes were bright and wild and looking down at you.

“König! You scared me half to death. Get in here.”

You stood aside and König ducked his head and walked, actually stomped, his way into your room. You prayed you didn’t have any stray underwear on the floor. His shirt sleeves were short and you could actually see his arm muscles thrumming.

“What’s happened?” You frowned. “What’s wrong, König? Talk to me, please.”

“There was an I.E.D.” He replied, accent thick. You couldn’t imagine what his expression looked like. “Ghost saw it before I did. He pulled me out of the pathway. The fucking thing exploded five feet in front of my face. I could have died. I am a fucking idiot.”

“Oh, König, you…you didn’t die, and you’re not an idiot, okay? Every soldier misses…”

“No, schatz.” He walked forward, backing you against the wall. You swallowed when his large hand came up, pressing your collarbone back against the wall. “I’m a fucking idiot because I could have died without doing this.”

One hand curled around your hip and lifted you effortlessly, and you gasped as you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist - it was a stretch, he was so broad. König wasted no time slamming you into the wall next to your bed with enough force to rattle your bones. You squeaked, but that was all you managed to do. He pushed his hood up to his nose and captured your lips with his.

Your eyes crossed and closed as you groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as your lips slid against his. This was nothing like the first kiss - that was chaste, hurried, this was luxurious, long, wet and slow, the whole world went quiet as König pressed his tongue between your lips and lapped at yours with sure strokes that had you whimpering. Your fingers tangled in his hood as he kissed you like that, and you forgot everything else.

He hitched your legs around his waist and you whined, muffled, as you felt a solid lump pressing up against your clothed crotch. You didn’t care – you ground down on him as you met his tongue with yours. He growled into your mouth and it reverberated through you, before he was pulling back, kissing along your jaw and grinding his cock against your heat harder than before.

Then his eyes were on you, piercing and bright through the dark hood, the fabric sat askew on his top lip, his lips pink and swollen with your spit.

“I want you, schatz.” He said bluntly.

“I - I want you, too.”

Your consent was all he needed. Suddenly you were airborne again, and you clung onto him as he lowered you onto the belt and knelt between your legs. The bed actually dipped under his weight and you blushed.

“K-König,” you murmured quietly.

“No,” it was short, and stiff, as he yanked your night shirt down by your collar hard enough to rip. You yelped as the sound of fabric tearing filled the room and suddenly your tits were exposed. You whimpered in embarrassment but he’d already grabbed them in his rough, gloved hands, squeezing and rubbing, flicking and pinching your nipples between his fingers.

“Hhhh, fuck.” You blushed, biting your lip as your underwear moistened at the rough treatment.

“Fuck, do not tell me they are sensitive.” König’s voice sounded wrecked.

“Please,” it was a whisper, “please be gentle.”

“Wanted to get my hands on you for too long.” Was all his reply was as he squeezed your breast again and leant down, using his hand to guide your nipple into his exposed mouth. He sucked so hard that you thought he was trying to drink your soul out from you. Your head fell back and you gasped, grinding your wet, needy cunt as best you could on the side of his thigh. König took pity on you, lapping at your nipples until they were shining nubs screaming in oversensitivity, while his brick hand - when had he taken his glove off? - cupped your pussy through your underwear. His thumb was jammed right up against your clit. You didn’t know if he’d meant to do that, or if it was coincidental, but either way you ground up onto the solid digit until your eyes were unfocused.

“So wet for me, liebling,” he murmured breathlessly, between your nipples, “you are fucking soaked for me.” He stroked you with his thumb once and your eyes slackened and you came with a shudder, stiffening beneath him as stars danced above your head.

He let your nipple slide wetly from his mouth and suddenly those bright eyes were on you.

“Did you just have an orgasm?”

“Mmm.” You buried your head into his neck shyly, thighs shuddering as the waves of pleasure rolled through you. Your clit twitched against his hand.

“Oh, sweet liebling.” He murmured, rubbing wet circles over the sodden fabric of your underwear. You shuddered as your thighs tried to close away from the intense pleasure, until one strong hand was on your thigh and pushing it wide.

“König!” You gasped. He was watching you intently as he pushed your underwear to the side with his fingers and pressed the thick digits through your sopping folds.

“Such a pretty little cunt.” He murmured, stroking his fingertips over your slit. It opened with every heavy breath you took, dribbles of desire wetting his fingers.

“König, please,” you whined, “need you in me. Please -”

“Oh yes? Is that so?” The side of his mouth twitched up, then his finger was sinking inside you.

“Shit, fuck! K-König, you’re so big…” You felt your cunt stretching around his finger, clenching involuntarily down around it as your thighs tried to close but couldn’t, pinned open by his solid hand.

“I know, schatz.” He replied calmly. “You can take it.” He slid a second finger in without warning and grunted at how tight and wet you were, just imagining how your cunt would feel around his cock. You whined and threw your head back, the stretch aching after months of nothing, thighs shaking. You were so fucking wet that his fingers practically glided in, his knuckles against your soft pink entrance. “I want you to come for me, to loosen you up for my cock.”

“König, fuck, I…” Your cheeks were rosy. “My god, please...please move, I need-”

“Shhh, little one, I know.” He wasted no time shoving his fingers deeper in your aching cunt, and you yelped and lifted off of the bed entirely. König growled in disapproval and used the hand on your thigh to pin you down to the bed, keeping you still as he ploughed his fingers in and out of you. You moaned deliriously at the sudden intense, rough pressure to your sweet spot, watching the way König’s large hand was like a blur between your legs.

“I’m-” You couldn’t even say it before you were coming with a wet moan, your release splashing against his wrist and dripping all over the bed.

“Scheiße, liebling, making such a mess for me.” His fingers were still hard and circling your engorged sweet spot. Your body seized in panic as you gripped his wrist with all your might to try and still him. All you achieved was watching your own arms shake as he fingered you mercilessly. The noise was obscene, soaking wet come and slick filthy between your legs and soaking his hand as you squirted again, streaming down his arm with a mix of clear and white desire. You moaned and gasped and sobbed, the pleasure intense and spiralling, your pussy already felt worn out from the rough treatment.

“König, please,” you begged, “it’s too much-”

“Again.” He commanded, hand leaving your thigh and curling around your throat. “Want all of that squirt out of you.” he pinned you to the bed by your neck, using the change in position to drive his fingers roughly home deep in your aching, spent cunt. He didn’t stop when you came, and he didn’t stop when you came again - your eyes in the back of your head, body on fire with ceaseless pleasure, the bed beneath you soaked with your own humiliation. All you could do was take it, and shudder violently.

Finally, König pulled his fingers from your gaping hole and slapped your cheek lightly, it was a wet noise and you blinked.

“Come on, little girl, do not give up on me.”

“König,” you slurred, heaving. “I…fuck, so good, never…I can’t…”

“Oh sweet one,” he cooed, crowding between your legs, pulling your thighs over his hips. “Fucked you stupid and I haven’t even put my cock in you yet.”

You managed a tired smile as you traced your fingers down the front of his stab vest. You watched him drag the zip of his trousers down, rubbing just the once over the lump there before dipping in and pulling his cock free. It took him three tries - to extract the full, erect length of himself from the tight compression of his protective cup, before he was letting it hang heavy between his legs.

“Fuck, König- you’re so big.”

“I know, baby,” he stroked the length of his long, engorged cock from length to tip and your eyes widened, cunt throbbing between your legs in your desperation to feel it deep in you.

“König, please,” you begged, digging your heels into the small of his back, your wet cunt pressed up against his balls, inviting, begging him in, “my pussy - please -”

He chuckled before pressing the head of his foreboding cock against your clit and you trembled and cursed. He lent over you, hand squeezing your breast, the ends of his dark hood tickling your neck as you felt the hot, solid crown of his cock pressing against your entrance. Your eyes were wide, nervous, feeling the pressure, the give, then the hot length sliding home inside of you.

You gasped and arched, clenching around him and his biceps shook where he held you.

“Fuck, schatz, fuck, not so hard, you will make me come.”

“C-can’t help it.” It was a whine, rolling your hips and digging your heels in harder, trying to pull him deeper. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He panted, regaining some of his composure and locking his hand around your neck once more. His hips began to piston and you weren’t prepared for it, the shift of his massive cock in your tight walls making you moan and clench and writhe. Your cunt was obscenely wet, and every noise was a squelch that made you blush, until he was pounding into your sweet spot and you forgot everything.

“Fuck, König, fuck-” it was breathless, eyelids fluttering as you clenched and groaned and sprayed his cock, his balls, with your release. “I can’t - can’t stop, fuck,”

“Guh, fuck.” He grunted, lips ghosting over yours. His cock not slowing, pounding you like he was trying to nail the mattress beneath you. “So tight, liebling, your pussy is drawing me in. I’ve waited so long for this.”

You couldn’t ask him to explain, you were too busy coming, your world zeroed down to the tip of König’s dick abusing your swollen sweet spot. He curled his fingers under your knee and held your thigh up by your collarbone, exposing more of your vulnerable cunt to him as he thrust hard into your aching walls.

Your moans were broken and never ending, blushing and squirming in delirious agony as you gushed and creamed on his cock, feeling your hot release on the backs of your thighs.

“Look at you,” König didn’t even have the decency to sound exerted as he took you apart. “You can’t stop coming, can you, schatz?”

“No.” There were tears in your eyes, your fingernails digging into his arms, holding on for dear life. “You need, please -” Your mouth fell open as you came again, the splash of your squirt explosive and filthy, “you need to come, please, I can’t, can’t come again, please, König, please.”

König framed your jaw with his hand, stroking along the bone as he slammed his hips into yours, forcing more of your come straight from you with a grunt.

“Nearly there, schatz.” He said into your mouth. “Just a little bit longer.”

“Fuck, please,” your walls clenched and contracted again, vaulted over the edge and nearly losing consciousness, clenching your fucked out cunt tight if only to help him get there. “Please, come, come in me, fuck.”

“Scheiße,” he groaned, cock jamming in your tight cunt as you came so hard you nearly pushed him out. He shoved his way back in and you wailed. “You want me to come inside? I’m not wearing…”

“König, please,” it was pathetic, and he couldn’t deny you, watching your sobbing eyes with his piercing blues as he slammed into your weeping cunt for a few more torturous minutes, then his forehead was pressed to yours and he groaned as he spilled inside you. He was so deep you couldn’t feel it, but you could feel his cock twitching, and you could feel yourself clenching and coming so hard you forced dribbles of his white come straight back out of your slit and dribbling down between your cheeks.

König was breathing heavily against you as he held himself, forehead against yours, body framing yours, and you watched him as you shuddered and tried in vain to relax. He was…there were no words for it.

You let your hands trail down his clothed back, feeling the solid and bunching muscles there, feeling his cock heavy in your squirting pussy and wondering how the hell this had happened.

“König,” you had a warm, dizzying smile on your face. “You came back.”

He nodded mutedly, face partially obscured by his hood, as he stroked along your jaw, then your lips, and let his hulking body fall and rest beside yours. “Thought you might not want me.”

You shook your head, curling into his chest the best you could. He was still inside you.

“Want you, always. Don’t-'' He'd already curled his bear arms around you, drawing you into his warm chest and cutting you off. You were suddenly so overhot you couldn’t remember what you were going to say.

“I’m sorry I upset you, liebling,” he stroked along your back, his blue eyes slack. “I have always wanted you to be mine. From the moment I saw you.”

This felt like a fever dream. It couldn’t possibly be real. You couldn’t possibly be this happy.

“I’ve always been yours, König, I still am. If you still want me.”

He tilted his head as he watched you, lips pulling up, and you blushed.

“What?” You asked.

“You,” he said simply, voice warm like honey, “are smiling again.”

#fanfiction #call of duty #cod #konig x reader #konig call of duty #smut #cod smut

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machveil · 2 months ago

Note

I can't resist the siren call

Roommate!Simon Riley that low-key enjoys fucking with your friends Y/N

subtle foreshadowing… I suppose I can dip into my nsfw Roommate!Simon Riley thoughts

Roommate!Simon Riley who shares a laundry bin with you, it had been agreed a long time ago that just doing a big load would be easier. you takes turns, knowingly stealing each other’s clothes every couple days when the laundry is fresh out the machine. you know Simon took an oversized t-shirt you owned, but that’s okay, you took his favorite gym hoodie

Roommate!Simon Riley who doesn’t get embarrassed about his underwear being in the bin with yours, it’s all going in the machine anyways. that doesn’t stop him from raising an eyebrow though when his favorite boxers go missing. he was sure he put them in with the dirties, well, the cleans now. he figures the machine ate it, or maybe they’ll show up some day by chance - he shrugs it off and separates his clothes from yours, snagging one of your oversized sweaters to lounge in later

Roommate!Simon Riley who freezes when he sees you on the couch that night. eyes wide and jaw slack, he can’t bring himself to move. sat watching something on the tv - he can’t be bothered to acknowledge whats playing - he stares at you, wearing his boxers as shorts. “Hey, come watch this— I’ll catch you up since it just started. I’m not pausing it though so you better pay attention.”, your words are all in one ear and out the other. suddenly his legs are moving on their own, stopping in front of you. he doesn’t register what you’re saying, telling him to move because you can’t see the tv, but then he speaks

Roommate!Simon Riley whose voice is deliciously deep, a little raspy from how his throat suddenly feels dry, “S’that mine?”, he asks, eyeing his boxers. he’s never had such a hard time swallowing before, heartbeat erratic as you casually respond, “Huh— oh, yeah. They’re really comfy, the fabrics nice.”. fabrics nice, yeah, he knows. “You— ya know those are boxers, right love?”, he asks, hands twitchy as you reply, “Mhm, just borrowin’ them.”

CW: guilty wank, man is hopeless [kisses his cheek]

Roommate!Simon Riley who’s a mess after that interaction. you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him, but he’s losing it on the inside. he’s seen you be audacious with stealing his clothes before, taking his loose-fit tank tops that left little to the imagination on you, stealing clothes you knew he favored and parading around in them, but his boxers? that had him stalking back to his room, quick to turn on his heel before you could see his pants tent

he’s sweating, closes the door to his room a little harder than he meant to. god, he wants to go back out there and see you again, get an eyeful of how comfortable you looked - wearing his boxers like they were yours. you wouldn’t know, and he can’t help but think about it, but you had stolen his favorite pair. they’re plain, a simple black pair, something he bought at the store because he needed new underwear. but when you wear them? they suddenly looked different, makes his heart hammer against his chest. it feels like he walked out into the living room and you wearing lingerie, not something he got for fifteen pounds

he feels a little guilty, shoving his jeans down his thighs as he sits down on his bed. you’re home, sat in the living room just down the hall, and here’s Simon fishing his leaky cock out of his underwear. he really shouldn’t, he should sneak into the bathroom for a cold shower, think about war and blood and bullets to get his boner down. but he isn’t, he’s spitting into his palm and groaning, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth - he’s never been good about keeping quiet. it’s not his fault you were out there wearing his clothes, you were the one that decided to look so— so cozy and content in your makeshift shorts. domestic

when that word settles at the forefront of his brain Simon’s hips jerk, you looked domestic, wanting to watch some show with him. his leg jolts slightly, hand moving to shallowly pump his weeping head. maybe your friends are right, Simon does take care of you - could bend you over and make you sob his name - he’s basically your boyfriend, often mistaken for your husband. his thighs tense when he imagines a ring on your finger— no, his dog tags hanging from your neck— god, holding you at night as an actual couple—

he’s choking out a moan, muffled and hoarse, as he coats his hand. eyes fluttering shut and breathing heavily, all his thoughts fly out the window as his cum drips down his fingers - all his thoughts except for one. he’s going to have to go back out there later to eat dinner with you, and oh, fuck, he sucks in a deep breath as he chubs up again

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garoujo · 1 year ago

Text

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you’re not sure if it’s normal for a ‘relationship’ like you and gojo’s to be so constant.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ contents! situationship!gojo, although it seems to be a little more than that, fluff! he’s a clingy baby ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i literally had to pull over at the side of this road to write this in my notes <3 childe is coming tomoz guys i swear !

“satoru, i have to leave eventually, i can’t stay here forever.” you sigh from where you’re wrapped in gojo’s, your… friend’s bed, his sheets, his shirt. you’re not sure how long you’ve been here, three? four days maybe, it’s like both of you are just ignoring that maybe this is a little more than what you’re trying to say it is.

“you leavin’ me cold? where’s your heart.” hes teasing you as he whines playfully, pouting from where he’s standing at the foot of his bed. he’s still shirtless from his shower— his snowy hair is wet, framing his features and you think it’s annoyingly unfair how low on his hips his sweatpants are resting. “bring back my sweet girl.”

he’s not sure how to tell you that he doesn’t remember the last time he had a full nights sleep before you’d started staying over.

“none of my stuff is here.” you try to reason but gojo’s so fast to send you a handsome sort of grin before he’s turning away from you momentarily. you watch him hum as he picks his slacks up from the floor, reaching into the side pocket to pull out his wallet before reaching so quickly for the sleek black card inside with a shrug.

“i’ll get you new stuff. see,” he tilts his head towards the card and you know he’s serious despite his smooth tone, the ridiculously luxury apartment you’re in right now and his usual expensive clothes was enough proof that he could, but that’s not what you meant.

“no, satoru, i’m serious. i need my clothes.” you sigh as you lean yourself back into the plush pillows beneath you, youre grumbling like you’re being held here against your will but you’ve still made no real effort to move from your place.

you feel the mattress at your feet dip as gojo pushes himself back onto the bed, his fingertips reaching to wrap gently around your calf as he crawls his way towards you. it’s incredibly intimate the way he looks up at you through his lashes, lifting your leg slightly until you feel his lips trace along the inside of ankle, leaving short—soft pecks in their wake.

his gaze remains on yours as he trails kisses up your skin, continuing until he’s high enough to let his chin rest on your stomach, long arms wrapping underneath your waist as he shoots you another smile. “oh? but you look so good already, sweet thing.”

you groan at that, “satoru! omg, i need an outfit. i cant just live in your stuff.” — as comfortable as it is.

“yeah yeah, i hear you. i can take you there, wait f’ you and bring you back.” gojo grumbles from where he’s hugging himself into you, bringing up one of his hands like he’s talking you through a plan as you watch his fingers wave around in the air with his words.

you sigh again, for what feels like the millionth time today, but you still let your fingers push their way through the damp roots of the man over you’s hair— a motion that earns you a quick kiss pressed through your shirt before he lets the silence linger comfortably.

you think this was probably a lot more than what you’re both trying to say it is.

“hm, so you wanna go on a date, ‘s that it?” gojo grumbles a few moments later, goading as he shoots you one of his cheekier smirks before he’s pushing himself up high enough to curl over you. but the playful jokes makes you feel suddenly warm as you look up at him— trying so hard to retain the frown on your features despite the way his crystalline gaze makes you want to melt into a puddle.

“you’re so annoying.” you try to push him away but he doesn’t budge as he chuckles, leaning down to press his face ticklishly into the crook of your neck as he pokes playfully at the sides of your waist— just enough to kick start a laughing fit. “‘toru! i swear—“

“oh? i see how it is. why’re you mad?” you can barely breathe as gojo presses you into the mattress beneath you— twitching and wriggling underneath his huge body as he continues to press into your ticklish spots.

“s-stop it! i’m not mad.”

“oh yeah? well i haven’t done anything afterall! you said you wanted an outfit, don’t go all shy on me now~” he’s deliberately accompanying each touch with an onslaught of kisses along the crook of your neck that make you shudder.

“satoru! oh my god, i’m gonna kill you.” you gasp as you kick your legs, giggling uncontrollably until you feel him cease suddenly and drop himself back on top of you with a huff.

“oh, scary! you said it, sweet girl. you fallin’ for me? i knew it! it can’t be helped, i’ll be happy to take you out if you ask nicely.”

gojo’s lips rest against your jawline as he speaks this time; smooth as honey while his hands push their way underneath the hem of your—his shirt. his fingers rest gently at your waist before he begins tracing something messily, probably something similar to a heart if you were to focus on it a little more.

you don’t answer him this time, like you’ve admitted defeat as your arms wrap around him— letting him melt into you a little longer before he’s pushing himself up to press a kiss against your cheek, then your lips when you turn around to face him.

“hm, that’s too bad. i kinda wanted to keep you locked away in here for a little while longer. oh well.” gojo smirks as he tries to feign disappointed, pinching between his brows before he’s shooting you a wink and leaning in for another kiss. his lips linger a little longer this time, tongue coming out to tease along your lower lip before he pulls away suddenly a few moments later— leaving you pouty and all of a sudden kiss starved.

you watch him fumble around for a little bit, sorting through the clothes that you both had peeled off in such a rush the night before. you give him a confused look when he bends over; rising back up as he shakes his car keys at you with another one of his signature grins.

“aw, don’t look at me like that. come on, we got somewhere to be, right? wear somethin’ nice f’ me.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 1 year ago

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Competing With Gods

Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader, Apollo x uninterested!Reader

Request: Hi could you write luke castellan x reader, where Luke gets jealous of a guy who tries with y/n? How would he react if y/n is at the game? Thank you

Summary: When Apollo is sent to camp as a punishment, he sets his sights on Luke's girlfriend.

Warning: Fighting, jealousy, making out, the slightest allusions to/implied smut, Apollo being a dick

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

A/N So instead of another camper or whatever, I’m making the other guy Apollo.

Apollo crashed into the ground of Camp Half-Blood. Right in the middle of all the cabins. Great. He briefly cursed Zeus for this. He was being punished for flirting with a nymph the big guy was interested in. And when Apollo had told his father to maybe focus on his wife, Zeus banished him to Camp Half-Blood for a few weeks as a “warning.”

The Half-Bloods began to peek out of their cabins but one girl was already rushing over. Her hair fell over her shoulder so nicely as she kneeled over him. Okay, maybe camp wouldn’t be so bad. She gave him a concerned look. “Are you alright?”

“Now that you’re here,” he immediately started flirting. He enjoyed the way she immediately became flustered and jumped to his feet. She looked up at him in bewilderment. She saw him fall. She wasn’t a daughter of Apollo but he should have been suffering from at least a few broken bones. “I’m Apollo,” he clarified with a proud smirk. By now all the other campers within the vicinity were near enough to hear and kneeled. The girl did too, kneeling with a lowered head. He reached out a hand to her. She took it hesitantly, standing up. “Who are you, gorgeous?”

She became further embarrassed. How do I bring up Luke? She briefly wondered. “Y/N. Daughter of Aphrodite.”

“I should have known,” the god flirted. “What with those mesmerizing eyes.”

“Lord Apollo,” a voice interrupted him. He turned, finding Chiron trotting over. “My apologies, I was just notified of your arrival.”

“No worries,” the god smiled. The nice thing about not being around gods is that you get called things like Lord.

“Please,” Chiron began, gesturing over to a big house, “let me show you around. Your father has a few requests for you whilst here.”

“Of course he does,” he rolled his eyes. He turned back to the girl. “I’ll see you around, gorgeous,” he winked.

As he left all the campers were left in shock. Especially Y/N. And even more so, her boyfriend. Luke went up to her, finding her still in astonishment. “Sooo… that was weird,” he began, trying to not show his jealousy.

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Was Apollo just flirting with me?”

“Yes!” Silena gushed as she ran up to her best friend/half-sister. “Oh my gods, a god is interested in you!” She then seemed to notice Luke and remember their relationship. “Oh- uh. Sorry, Luke.”

He just gave her a tight lipped smile.

“Oh my gods, what am I gonna do?” Y/N asked, clearly stressed out.

Luke shrugged, again trying not to show his jealousy. “Not much you can do. It’s not like you can tell him to leave you alone.”

“If you really don’t want him then you can tell him you have a boyfriend. And a sister,” Silena suggested with a raised eyebrow.

Her sister laughed. “I was trying to think of a way to mention Luke. And Silena, you’re 16.”

“He looks 18!” she insisted.

“Even if he was actually 18 I’d say he’s too old for you. Come on, the bathroom still needs to be cleaned after Drew decided she wanted to dye her hair black.”

“Yeah well, she’s crying now because she wants to be blonde again,” Silena explained as the sisters walked back to their cabin.

Feeling mildly ignored, Luke yelled after them. “I’ll see you at dinner!”

Remembering her boyfriend, Y/N ran back to him, pressing a peck on her lips. “Sorry. I’ll see you later.” He watched her go, trying to not think about it too much. She never forgot to kiss him goodbye but he tried to chalk it up to the fact that she was shocked by Apollo’s appearance.

That evening at dinner everyone had noticed the “new camper” sitting at the Apollo table looking very unhappy. Chiron stood up and called everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we have a very honored guest staying with us for a while. Lord Zeus had requested that we treat him as we would any other camper.” As he finished he gave us all a long, hard look as if to say, “Don’t get yourself killed when his immortality is restored.”

Once dinner finished, everyone was at the bonfire. Luke sat on the ground, his back resting up against a log. His girlfriend was leaning up against his shoulder, her legs over his lap. His free arm would occasionally swipe the mosquitos away from her with his other arm supporting her weight. They were talking to a few other campers when Luke let his gaze fall onto Apollo. Some campers, mostly girls from Aphrodite, sat around the god, looking at him with cartoon hearts in their eyes. He knew for a fact Y/N had told them to stay away as a. they were all minors and b. he was a god and she didn’t want to deal with their broken hearts.

When Apollo’s gaze fell on the girl in his lap, Luke tightened his grip protectively. He knew it was ridiculous. Y/N would never cheat on him and he knew she’d slap any guy who tried anything, immortal deity or not. But he couldn’t help but be worried. Hell, he had nearly punched an Ares camper last year and that kid wasn’t a god. And Apollo was known for his womanizing ways.

He tried to shake it off and go back to his conversation but his brain was still stuck on Apollo. “Hey,” he whispered so softly that only the girl in his lap could hear. She turned and he immediately kissed her. She kissed him back briefly but pulled away, not a huge fan of PDA especially in front of the entire camp. But Luke persisted, gently holding her cheek and kissing her deeply.

When she finally pulled away for breath she looked at him quizzically. “What was that for?”

He smiled and shrugged. “What? I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” She just smiled, pushing his head away jokingly before going back to her conversation. But he was looking at Apollo again, hoping the god saw that kiss. If he did, he was playing it off.

Later that night, when the fire was extinguished and he had kissed the Aphrodite counselor goodnight several times, Luke was trying to sleep. Keyword: trying. Normally the several snores or creeks of the Hermes cabin didn’t bother him, but he was so on edge thinking about Apollo’s flirting, that every noise jolted him awake. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Apollo had immediately begun to flirt with Y/N and how she had seemed to forget him for a moment.

Frustrated, Luke crept out of bed. As he opened the cabin door, he checked for harpies keeping watch but found none. So he went to the Aphrodite cabin, knocking on the window right above Y/N’s bed. It took a few tries but eventually, she poked her head up, gesturing to shut up and that she’d be out in a minute.

So Luke waited until she came around the side. “What?” she asked, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. But her hair was already falling back to the way its usual flawless look, courtesy of being Aphrodite’s daughter.

“I just wanted to see you,” Luke smiled sheepishly. And make sure Apollo isn’t sniffing around. He realized he didn’t have a reason to be out here that didn’t stem from insane jealousy. She looked mildly annoyed at that so he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her. If he couldn’t get rid of Apollo, he could completely occupy her mind. So he did the only thing he could think of. He was pushing her up against the side of the cabin, one hand on her jaw, the other around her waist.

She had no clue where this came from but she gave in nonetheless. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.

After a few minutes of making out, she finally managed to push him away enough to get a deep breath in. “What was that for?” she asked, both of them still gasping for air.

Luke smiled, grabbing her by the hips to pull her closer. “‘Cause I love you.” He pressed the lightest kiss to her nose before stepping away abruptly. “Night, see you in the morning.” And with that, he walked away the happiest demigod in all of camp.

The daughter of Aphrodite still just stood there, completely taken off guard. The only thing that snapped her out of her daze was the faint caw of a harpy, making her quickly scramble inside. Luke ended up getting his wish as that night, the only thing on her mind was that kiss.

The next day was Capture the Flag day. When Chiron announced it at dinner that night, everyone lost their minds. It was Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, and Poseidon vs. Ares, Apollo, Demeter, and Dionysus.

As the couple was walking over to their cabins to get their armor, Apollo caught up with them. “See you out there, Y/N,” he said as he passed with a wink.

“S-see yah?” she called back hesitantly.

Luke was frustrated but at least she didn’t seem flattered by his flirtations. Now she was just confused.

Once they grabbed their chest plates, then went back to the creek where they’d be starting the games. As Luke put his on, she was struggling to get hers tightened. “Hold on, I’ll help you in a sec,” he said, finishing strapping his onto his body.

“I got it,” a voice interrupted. Apollo seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He was standing in front of Y/N, tightening the strap.

“Hey!” Luke yelled without thinking.

Apollo held up one hand in surrender, the other still on her shoulder. “Chill man, I’m just helping.” Luke didn’t say anything else as Apollo walked away with a slight smirk.

“Hey,” Y/N said softly, stepping closer to him. “What was that about?”

Luke gritted his teeth. “Nothing. C’mon, I need to assign everyone and talk strategy.” He took her hand gently, reminding himself to not let his anger get the better of him. He headed over, gathering the team. “Alright, Cabins 6, 3, and 11 will be offense. Cabins 9, 10, and 12 will be defense. Except for Y/N, you’re with me. Beckendorf, you’ll also be offense.” He pointed out a few Athena and Hermes campers, directing them to defense as well.

After a few minutes, the conch blew and everyone was in their places. The couple quickly jumped over the creek, slipping through the Apollo cabin’s defenses. They had done this so many times, their routine was well practiced. They ran through the woods, searching for any opposing defense.

The other teams had learned that Y/N and Luke always worked as a pair so they started also pairing defensive players. That is when Hermes and Aphrodite were on the same side. If they weren’t, Capture the Flag could go on for hours since they knew all of each others’ tricks.

They continued on, occasionally making quick work of disarming opposing campers until they reached the flag. It was only guarded by one person. Apollo. Clarisse must have figured that everyone else would be too afraid to offend a god. But Luke was honestly looking for this opportunity.

So while Y/N fell back, hesitating, Luke was jumping at the god. Apollo blocked him with a sword but he was clearly not very good with it. Archery had been banned since before Luke got to camp. Even though the arrows were enchanted not to kill, someone had been blinded so Chiron banned them forever. He didn’t even make an exception for the god of archery.

While Luke fought Apollo, Y/N was grabbing the flag. “Luke!” she yelled, waving the flag. She then took off, heading for their territory. Because of Apollo’s inexperience with the sword, Luke was easily beating him. After a few slashes on the god’s arms, legs, and even face—nothing major, they were honestly just cuts a band aid could fix—Luke was disarming him. He didn’t have to be as brutal as he was or knock him over but he did, throwing the god’s sword far away before following after Y/N.

Luke was still a few feet behind her when she hopped over the creek into safety. He watched proudly as she ripped the helmet off her head and held the flag up triumphantly. The members of their team around her cheered triumphantly as the conch blew and their team was announced the winners.

Luke was still in enemy territory, watching her have her moment when Apollo showed up. “She’s really something,” the god announced, his smile focused on her.

“Yeah, my girlfriend really is incredible,” Luke said pointedly.

The god was still smiling. “I know she’s your girlfriend. I saw you making out with her last night.”

“What were you doing out at two a.m.?”

The god looked even more smug, his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t have to answer to you. But if you must know, I had the same idea as you but you got there first.” Luke finally looked at him, rage once again filling his body. So he wasn’t paranoid. “How long have you been together?”

Luke was confused but answered nonetheless. “Uh three years,” he answered suspiciously.

“Aw, three years down the drain. I’m sorry in advance,” the god said in exaggerated regret.

Luke tried not to let his fury show. This is why he hated gods. They thought they could do whatever they wanted without regard for mortals. “Well, she loves me. At night she swears we were made for each other,” he said, recalling sweaty nights during the school year when every other Aphrodite kid was home. And how they’d make breathless promises of eternity.

Apollo gave him an almost pitiful look. “I’m sorry about your relationship but you can’t actually believe she’ll pick you when she could have a literal god?” he gestured to himself arrogantly.

Now it was Luke’s turn to gloat. He just shrugged, “I’m the one she calls for. She doesn’t call for the gods like most others would. She only ever says my name.”

Apollo was a little taken aback by the kid’s boldness. “Well, that’s the nice thing about being a god. I can make anyone mine.” And with that Apollo headed over to the capture the flag winner of the night. It took everything in him not to race up to her but he kept his composure. She’d have to reject him on her own, he couldn’t keep running defense.

He watched in surprised satisfaction as Apollo reached her. He congratulated her before pulling her into a hug. His arms were around her waist and creeping kind of low but Luke once again kept his resolve. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she pulled away quickly, pointing over at him. What was she saying? Was she praising him for fighting the god? Or telling him that she had a boyfriend?

Apollo tried to hug her again but she ducked under his arm, running over to him. He immediately broke out into a smile. Her arms were opened to hug him but he just grabbed her face to kiss her instead. He turned her towards the tree he had been leaning on, pressing her up against it again. He only pulled away slightly to whisper a congratulations but then their lips were connected again. When he finally pulled away, he threw an arm around her shoulder, shooting a look to the god before heading off to their celebration.

That night as they were celebrating, Luke was glued to Y/N’s side. It wasn’t until some of the other Hermes boys needed help getting their illegal video game working again that Luke left her side. “I’ll be back,” he promised her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

As soon as Luke was gone, Apollo was swooping in. “Congratulations again,” he said, handing her a drink.

“Thanks,” she smiled nervously, taking the drink. “How are the cuts?”

Apollo shrugged. “They sting more than I would’ve thought but they’re fine. Your boyfriend’s a hell of a fighter.”

“Yeah,” she chuckled, relieved that he was acknowledging she had a boyfriend.

“I mean, he’s good for a mortal. He’s certainly no god,” Apollo flirted.

“Well, none of us are. Present company excluded,” she laughed nervously, gesturing to him.

Apollo casually threw an arm around her shoulder. “There’s other things we’re better at,” he said, letting the implication hang in the air. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “Have you ever been with a god, Y/N?”

She was immediately pulling out of his grasp. “I- uh… um no. I’m flattered but…” She had no clue what to say. She couldn’t just say no to Apollo. If this were any other man she’d throw her drink in his face but this was a god.

She didn’t have to say anything because Luke had seen the whole thing. As he came back he saw Apollo throw his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder and subsequently watched her back away quickly. “I told you she loves me,” he smirked before tugging her away. She gratefully pressed herself into his body.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, careful that Apollo couldn’t hear.

“Hey, you don’t have to thank me. This is kind of my job as your boyfriend.”

“Still, you basically told him to back off. Kind of bold to deny a god.”

“Yeah, well,” he began, brushing a hair back from her face, “if he smites me we’ll just have to make up for the lost time in Elysium.” She giggled, hugging him closer as they headed off to bed.

Masterlist

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo #pjo x reader #the lighting thief #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #x reader #apollo #apollo x reader

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katsu28 · 4 months ago

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rain, rain, (don't) go away

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: you put your trust in a handsome stranger in the midst of a bit of bizarre wet weather. what could go wrong? (4.6k)

warnings: minimal swearing

a/n: not quite the summer lando series i've been working on but the idea for this came to me in a dream a while ago lmao

It doesn’t often rain in Monaco. Especially not during the summer.

So when you feel a drop splash against your forehead, then another, you’re wildly unprepared. You squint up at the rapidly darkening sky like it's personally wronged you, and you’re met with another raindrop, this time in your eye.

Part of you wonders if you could try and make it home before it starts to pour. The other part knows it would be an impossible feat given your lack of a car and how far you’d have to run in such a short amount of time. Even as you ponder the thought, the occasional drops turn into a heavy drizzle.

You barely make it under the nearest awning before it really starts to come down. All around you are people scrambling to get out of the rain and somewhere dry, caught off guard by the unexpected downpour like you are.

“Crazy rain, huh?” You startle at the sound of a voice from next to you, gaze snapping to your left to see a man huddled under the same awning, most likely having come up with the same idea you did. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologizes, holding his hands up in surrender. “I take it you weren’t expecting rain when you left the house today either?”

You scoff, chuckling. “Was anybody?”

You tear your eyes away from the sky to look at him once more, and to say you’re pleasantly surprised is an understatement.

Your awning buddy is awfully attractive, and looks to be around your age too. A form-fitting black sweater stretches across broad shoulders, paired with baggy blue jeans that might not have worked for everyone, but definitely suits him well. He’s smiling at you too, a lopsided grin that has you intrigued by him. “The one time I didn't check my weather app before I headed out.”

“You actually check the weather app?” He chuckles, tilting his head.

“You don’t?”

“Can’t say that I do. Usually I just trust the vibes when I look out the window. Didn’t really work out today, though.” He holds his palm out from under the makeshift shelter, letting the rain pool in his hand before dumping it on the ground, flicking his fingers to rid them of the excess drops with a scrunched nose. “Is this your first time in Monaco?”

You shook your head, smiling softly. “I live here. You?” He bobs his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s never rained like this though, especially this time of year.”

“If it’s any consolation, I reckon it’ll stop soon. It’s usually pretty quick—”

A bolt of lightning flashes through the sky right at that moment, followed by a clap of thunder not five seconds later. If it continues on like this, you might be stuck here forever.

“Huh! Maybe not.” The man sounds amused, aiming a sympathetic smile at you. You can’t help but chuckle, and you notice it makes him perk up a bit, looking pleased with himself. “Hope you don’t have anywhere to be.”

“Honestly? I don’t. But I’d rather not be standing under this awning til the storm lets up. Could be ages, by the looks of it.”

A stream rushes its way down the street, carrying a sad swirl of leaves down the storm drain at the corner along with it. It seems everyone else has come to their senses and found somewhere warm and dry to wait out the sudden storm because when you look around, the two of you are the only ones still outside.

As if the man can sense what you’re thinking, he speaks. He’s smiling hopefully at you, head tilted invitingly. “There’s a cafe down the block that was open before it started to rain. Care to join me?”

Normally, you’d be wary about a handsome stranger inviting you to an unknown location. This seems like one of those situations you’ve been warned about, but right now you can’t find it in yourself to care. It’s about time you put yourself out there, take a chance for once. You’re pretty sure he won’t try to kidnap you.

“I’d love to.” You reply. You peer out at the dreary grey sky again, lips twisting into a grimace. “Is it just me or does it seem to be raining harder?”

“I say we make a break for it. Run like hell on three.” He says firmly. You nod and he does the same, holding out his hand. You slip your fingers through his without a second thought. “One, two, three—go, go, go!”

You both take off in a wild sprint down the sidewalk, splashing through puddles on your way. He giggles the whole time, peals of laughter bouncing off the cobbled street that sound gleeful. You’re laughing too, because who would’ve ever thought you’d be running through the rain hand in hand with a guy you’ve only just met?

He tugs you along, leading the way to your destination confidently. Well, as confident as one can while being half-blinded by a torrential downpour.

You nearly slip as you make a poor attempt at a sudden stop when he finally slows, and you probably would’ve ended up flat on your ass if he hadn’t grabbed you by your forearms, steadying you with an infectious grin that you can’t help but return.

The bell above the door rings when the two of you stumble inside, soaked to the bone even in the very short time it took to get down the road. But you know what they say, when it rains, it pours.

He shakes the rainwater from his hair not unlike a dog would shake out its fur, and in the process splatters you with the droplets. Normally you wouldn’t be too happy about it, but you’re already drenched and he’s very cute, so you don’t mind.

The place is pretty much empty when you look around, save for a handful of other patrons doing their own things. It’s cute though—cozy and warm, the smell of coffee beans and something sweet floating through the air. You never noticed it before, but it’s exactly the kind of cafe that you love.

The man seems to notice that you’re still holding hands, because his cheeks turn pink and he drops it, smiling rather bashfully.

“Sorry. I’m Lando, by the way.” He introduces himself softly, rubbing the back of his neck. You tell him your name and he repeats it, testing it out on his tongue. You’re not ashamed to admit you like the way it sounds when he’s the one saying it. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

“I’m gonna go order something so they don’t think we’re loitering. Preferably something hot, because I’ve got water in places water definitely shouldn’t be.” He shudders, pulling his soggy sweater away from his torso as proof. “Do you want anything?”

You ponder for a moment before responding. “A latte sounds amazing right now. I’ll pay you back, of course.”

Lando shakes his head, backpedaling towards the counter. “My treat. You just sit there and look pretty.” You roll your eyes playfully at him, but smile nonetheless. “Oh look, you’re doing great already!”

That makes your cheeks grow hot. You’ve just met Lando and he’s flirting with you, and you don't mind at all. In fact, you have half a mind to flirt back.

He finds you at a table soon after, balancing two cups and a concerningly large paper bag. You pop to your feet, carefully grabbing the bag to ease the load, and peer into it. There’s at least five different pastries inside, all of them looking absolutely mouthwatering.

“I hope you’re hungry. Got convinced to buy a few things by the lovely old lady at the counter.” Lando says sheepishly, sliding into the seat opposite you. “Very persuasive, she is.”

You shrug. “I could eat.”

You’re not sure how long you sit there, chatting with each other like you're the only two in the world. It’s surprisingly easy to talk to him too. He’s funny and quick-witted and he talks very animatedly with his hands, you notice. You find it cute.

Lando tells you about himself, asks about you and your life story, and you find yourself settling in nicely with his friendly nature. This isn’t a date by any means, but he makes it feel like one by the way he truly pays attention to you and what you're saying, nodding along closely with rapt attention. As far as listeners go, he's a fantastic one.

You’ve also learned a lot about him. He was born and raised in the UK, but moved here a few years ago for work. What exactly did for work, he wasn’t too forthcoming with, but you don’t pay it any mind. You’ve just met, after all. You’re not expecting him to tell you his whole life story.

But it also doesn’t feel like you’ve just met. You aren’t sure why, but Lando has this way of making you feel like you’ve known each other for ages, of making you feel comfortable and at ease with every word out of his mouth.

Your clothes and hair have just started to dry out a bit, and you’re having a great time. Such a nice time, you don’t even notice the girl approaching your table. Lando sees her before you do, and he smiles politely.

“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you guys, but are you Lando Norris?” She asks hopefully. She looks young, maybe fifteen or sixteen. Her eyes flick to you, and you can tell she’s nervous, so you smile back. You’re confused to say the least, but you remember what you were like at her age. She reminds you a bit of yourself.

Lando nods. “I am, yeah. What’s your name?”

“Valeria. But everyone here just calls me Val. I’m the owner’s granddaughter, so I work here all the time.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Val.”

She looks positively starstruck now, hands trembling as she holds up her phone. “Would you mind if I got a photo with you? You can totally say no if I’m interrupting something, I—”

“You’re alright, love, don’t worry.” Lando stands, moving into selfie position next to her. The poor girl’s arm shakes so much you’re positive the photo won’t turn out clear at all, so you slide out of your seat too.

“Here, let me.” You take the phone gently, motioning the two of them to scoot closer to get them in frame with each other.

Val looks a combination of relieved and grateful, while Lando gives off nothing but a cool, albeit reserved, confidence. The same kind of confidence a celebrity might have when approached by a fan of theirs. But certainly Lando couldn’t be famous…right?

You shake away the idea, snapping a handful of photos before passing it back to her, figuring there can never be too many to choose from. She beams bright, hugging him quickly, then to your surprise, gives you a hug as well.

“Thank you so much! I’ll get out of your hair now. Enjoy your food!” With that, she hurries away with a bounce in her step, disappearing into the kitchen.

You turn to Lando with arched brows. “That was interesting.”

“So interesting.” He echoes, but his tone makes it sound like he doesn’t quite agree.

“What are you, famous or something?” You mean it as a light jest, but Lando looks guilty for some reason. He beckons for you to take your seat again, sliding back into his own before offering you a sheepish smile.

“Um, there might be something I haven’t told you yet.”

“Shit, are you actually famous?”

“...Yeah, kinda.” You arch a curious brow, and he sighs, but not in exasperation. “I’m a Formula One racing driver. For McLaren.”

Formula One…racing…it all sounds slightly familiar, but you can’t quite place it. Then it dawns on you.

Lando isn’t just a local celebrity—he’s literally world famous.

You’ve heard your friends talk about the races before, a few of your relatives who keep up with the sport, but you’d never paid it any mind. It just wasn’t something you could see yourself being interested in. That really famous race that takes place here in the streets every year that makes traffic an absolute fucking nightmare the whole week, Lando drives in that race, and countless others around the world, if you recall your limited knowledge correctly.

He’s…cool. And he’s sitting right here with you in a tiny cafe, and you had no idea who he was.

“Oh my god, you must think I live under a rock or something! This is so embarrassing, I—”

“No, no! I’m not—I don’t go around expecting everyone to know who I am, I swear. It’s just that most people usually do recognize me, and it saves me the whole ‘having to tell them I’m famous’ thing, which always just makes things really awkward, and…yeah.”

“Things don’t have to be awkward.”

“No?”

“No. We don’t even have to talk about it.”

“We don’t?” He sounds a tad wary, but when you nod, the tension in his posture melts away. Relief floods his features at once. “Thank you. It’s actually quite nice to meet someone who has no idea what I do. Makes me feel normal for once.”

“Glad my lack of sports knowledge makes you feel like a regular guy,” You joke, nudging his foot with yours under the table. He gives you a light kick in return, infectious smile back in full bloom once again. You quite like it when he smiles.

You’ve just moved on to a new topic that has nothing to do with Lando’s job when his phone buzzes, making him jolt in surprise. He digs it out of his pocket, and when he sees the name flash across the screen, his eyes go wide.

“Sorry, hang on. I’ve gotta get this.” He says, hitting the answer button. It’s a quick phone call, and you try your best not to eavesdrop, but whoever is on the other line has Lando worked up when he hangs up.

“Everything okay?” You ask lightly. Lando bobs his head quickly.

“Yeah, it’s—I, uh, I’ve gotta go. I forgot about a work event, apparently. That was my press officer, wondering where the hell I am and how fast I can get there.” He sounds disappointed, smiling almost sadly. “So much for feeling normal.”

You try your best not to let your face fall when you nod. “I should get going too. Get home before the next freak summer rainstorm.”

It’s nice when you step outside. You tilt your face up towards the sky, feeling the sun warm your face. This is the Monaco you know and love. Though if it hadn’t rained, you would’ve never met Lando.

He turns to face you, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Thanks for the nice afternoon. I had a good time.”

“Me too.”

“Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“Maybe you will.”

“I certainly hope so.” He says softly. You shift slightly on the balls of your feet, suddenly feeling awkward. You’re not sure how to leave things with him, and it looks like he feels the same by the way he mirrors your actions. “Um, I really should leave, so…goodbye, I guess?” The look on his face tells you that leaving is the last thing he wants to do, but he has to.

“Bye, Lando.”

“Bye.” He echoes, one more time before turning away from you to head down the street.

You can only bring yourself to wait a few seconds before you call his name again. He turns around instantly despite his hurry, meeting your gaze. You want to say something to him that’ll make him remember you, because chances are you’ll never cross paths again. If you were brave enough, maybe you'd even ask him for his number. But you’re not, so you don’t. Instead, you just smile at him.

“Thanks for the latte.”

If he’s disappointed, he hides it well. He smiles back at you, warm and bright like the sun beginning to peek out from behind the clouds. “Of course.”

You watch him walk away, fighting that pesky little feeling in your gut telling you that you’re making a mistake by letting him go. It’ll go away soon, and you’ll go on with your life like you’re meant to.

-------

You find yourself going back to the same cafe often, whenever you're out and want a little treat before you go home. The pastries are always still as delicious as the first time you had them, and you’ve become well acquainted with the staff as the time goes on.

Oh, and that feeling you had when you let Lando leave without a word?

It never went away. It’s still here, worming its way into your thoughts every chance it can get.

You’re a little embarrassed to admit that every time you walk into the cafe, you hope you’ll see Lando. It’s wishful thinking more than anything, hoping he’ll be there when you go. He’s probably busy doing his thing anywhere but here, busy racing around in the world to the tune of thousands of screaming fans. You’re not sure if he even remembers you, or the afternoon you’d spent together.

Why would he? In the world of Lando Norris, world famous Formula One driver, you’re probably just a speck of dirt in his rearview mirror.

The thought gets pushed to the back of your mind as you step up to the counter to order. Val beams at you from behind the register.

“Hey, Val,” You greet the young girl warmly, returning her smile. You’ve become quite fond of her and her youthful energy, and she always brightens your day. “How’s business going?”

“Oh you know, same old.” Val waves an absentminded hand in the air as she keys in your usual order with the other. Her smile turns mischievous at the same time, like she knows something you don’t, and you narrow your eyes at her, already knowing what she's going to ask. “Have you heard from Lando?”

“No, I haven’t. How’s summer school going?”

She makes a funky face at you, rolling her eyes. “Boring. Way to change the subject though.” Before she can press any more about Lando, someone calls her name from the kitchen. “Ugh, I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfy, wait for your order, you know the drill!”

You chuckle to yourself, heading straight for your usual table by the window to wait for your name to be called.

You like to sit while you enjoy your food and drink, watching the people and cars go by outside. The streets of Monaco are always busy and bustling, but being in here feels like a pocket of peace.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your brow crinkles at the sudden voice, because you know for a fact there are at least four or five other empty tables available other than the one you’re currently sitting at, but this person chose to to ask you.

Pocket of peace…disrupted.

You let out a short sigh through your nose, turning your head from the window to politely tell them to find another seat, preferably at a table that isn’t yours, and that’s when you see him.

Lando is grinning at you when you look over, lopsided and endearing just like the first time you met him.

“Oh fuck!” You can’t help the expletive that falls from your mouth at the sight of him, even though there’s a thousand other things you’d told yourself you’d say to Lando if you ever saw him again. He’s got his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants, and he’s rocking on the balls of his feet slightly like he’s nervous as he waits for you to do something other than curse at him. “Lando! I—you—hi.”

“Hi,” He echoes, shoulders creeping up towards his ears. All you can do is stare at him, wide eyed in disbelief. “Mind if I sit?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, yes, you can sit.” You fumble over your words like you’re not used to speaking, feeling your cheeks flame embarrassingly hot. Lando just chuckles, sliding into the chair across from you. “Um, so how’ve you been?”

He rubs at the back of his neck, bobbing his head. “Good! Bit busy. We had a triple header the last three weeks, so it’s just nice to be home again.”

“Oh, I bet. I don’t think I’d be very good company if I couldn’t sleep in my own bed for three straight weeks.”

“That’s fair. Though to be honest, I’ve gotten scarily good at falling asleep anywhere. If it’s a flat surface, I can nap.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned.”

“Impressed would be mint. Otherwise I just sound like a dumbass.”

You laugh at that, and in this moment, you realize just how much you’ve missed Lando. No matter how many times you’ve tried to convince yourself to forget about him, to convince yourself that there was no point in pining after someone you’d only spent a few hours with, it all came back to this. You missed him because you like him.

“I need to tell you something.” He blurts suddenly, bracing his elbows on the table.

You nod, expression turning thoughtful. Whatever thoughts you’re having about liking Lando can wait. “Sure, go ahead.”

“This is gonna sound unbelievably weird and maybe even a little bit creepy, but I need to get it off my chest or else I think I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Lando looked nervous. The bouncing of his leg you can feel under the table and the way he plays with his fingers supports your theory.

You cock your head at him, reaching across the surface to steady his fidgeting with a hand over both of his. His gaze snaps down to your touching hands, and you can see him visibly gulp.

“What’s going on? Are you okay, is something wrong?”

He shakes his head quickly. “No, nothing’s wrong. Everything is…the opposite, really. Everything is right. Meeting you, finding my way back to you—here of all places. I don’t believe in fate or anything like that, but this sure feels like something along those lines.”

“Lando, I—”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that afternoon. I tried everything. Nothing worked. I couldn’t get you out of my head.” He confesses. His fingers curl around yours gently, thumb stroking over the ridges of your knuckles. “If I’m being completely with myself, I think it’s because I didn’t want to get you out of my head. And I just got off the plane an hour ago, but instead of going home and passing out like I usually do, I came here, hoping that somehow, you’d be here too.”

“Can I say something now?” You ask lightly, stifling a giggle.

His cheeks flush an embarrassed pink, and he motions for you to go ahead. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. I talk too much when I get nervous. I’m working on it, I—fuck, sorry again. You go. I’ll shut up.”

“I still think it’s cute.”

“Is that the only thing about me you still think is cute, or…?”

That gets another laugh out of you. You chuckle, giving his hand a squeeze. “Not at all. I still think all of you is cute, and…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either. We haven’t known each other long, but I really like you, Lando.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

“What’s stopping you?”

You don’t have time to second guess your newfound confidence before he’s leaning across the table, sliding a large hand over your jaw and pressing his lips against yours. Lando kisses you softly—gentle, like he’s worried you’ll pull away if he’s too forward with it.

You’re fully aware that you’re smiling like a madman against his lips, but in your defense, he is too. His eyes open slowly when you pull away, almost tentatively as if he’s not quite sure what just happened actually happened.

He leans back just enough to study you, letting his gaze flit around your face, taking in every detail he possibly can. All while he grins larger than Cheshire cat, like he’s a kid whose parents just told them they could get whatever they wanted at the candy shop, instead of kissing you for the first time.

“I was gonna be nice and bring you your order, but it looks like you’ve already got something sweet.” Val’s voice cuts through the moment, and when you look over at her, she looks over the moon.

“Lando, you remember Val, right?”

“Uh huh,” Lando hums, holding out his hand for a fist bump that she happily gives him. “Thanks again for the heads up.”

“Hold on, what? What heads up?”

The two of them share a look, like they’re debating whether or not to tell you their secret. Then Lando sighs, giving her a go ahead nod, and she squeals, setting your food down.

“Okay, so you know how you come in here all the time after work? Well me, being the keenly observant, brilliant young mind I am, noticed a pattern. You come on the same days, at the same time, and you never stray.” She explains excitedly, all but bouncing on the balls of her feet. You aim a questioning glance over at Lando, who just gives another amused nod.

Val continues excitedly, “So I’m expecting you today, right? But then the door opens and guess who walks in? Lando! He asks me if you’ve ever come back here after that one day and I’m like oh my god, you have no idea! So I tell him to wait a half hour for you, and now you’re both here and my matchmaking skills can be put to rest.”

“Are you being serious right now? Really, I can’t tell.”

She tilts her head, popping a hand on her hip. For the same girl who’d been so nervous to meet Lando just weeks ago, she’s got a surprising amount of sass in his presence today. “Why would I not be serious? I’m basically a genius, and I expect to be invited to the wedding. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Alright, that’s enough, cheers, Val!” Lando blurts, shooting her a pointed look.

“Can I get paddock passes for making this whole thing happen? Preferably Monaco but I could probably make it to Monza too. Imola is a little far.”

Lando blinks at her for a few moments, probably seeing if she actually means it. When all she does is raise her eyebrows, he concedes. “Maybe. I’ll make some calls, see what I can do.”

“Fantastic. Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone!”

You both watch as she all but skips happily off, then turn back to each other.

“She’s…definitely something,” You sigh, shaking your head. Secretly, you owe her everything.

“Eh, I dunno. Kid’s growing on me.” He reaches across the table, lacing his fingers through yours with a fond twinkle in those pretty eyes of his.

“How serious are you about those paddock passes?”

“I mean…she did help me out massively. I’d have missed you if it weren’t for her.” Lando shrugs, rubbing an absentminded thumb over yours. “I hope you know I would’ve come back until I found you again. Everyday, if I had to.”

“Me too.”

If you’d told your past self that a bizarre summer rainstorm in sunny Monaco would’ve led you to where you are right now, you wouldn’t have believed it. But now, as you sit here with Lando, smiling at each other like complete and total idiots, you’ve never been more grateful for a bit of unexpected rain.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x fem!reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot

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hoe4hotchner · 3 months ago

Note

Bakery owner reader x loyal customer hotch

Something with the team finding out about reader and seeing hotch all happy and smiling and whipped for her.

Later them finding out they’re actually dating and penny freaking out 😭😭

Love, Freshly Baked | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Bakery owner!reader

CW: Nothing but tooth rotting fluff

WC: 1k

A/N: Forgive me for having this drafted for ages!!! But here it is, and it's super duper cute!!!

The smell of fresh pastries and brewing coffee filled the small bakery every morning, a cozy retreat nestled on a quiet corner of the bustling city. You had been running the shop for a couple of years now, getting to know every regular by name, but there was one customer who had quickly become your favorite.

Aaron Hotchner.

He’d been coming in almost every morning for months, ordering the same thing - a black coffee and a croissant - but it wasn’t just the simplicity of his order that caught your attention. It was the way he always seemed so calm and composed, even when the stress of his job was written all over his face. You weren’t sure what he did - all you knew was he had to wear a suit for the job - but you could tell it wore on him. Still, every time he walked through the door, his shoulders relaxed just a little, and a small smile would tug at his lips when he saw you.

What you didn’t know was that Hotch’s team had noticed this change in him. It started small - an extra cup of coffee in the morning, a slightly brighter demeanor after breakfast - but it wasn’t long before the rest of the BAU picked up on it.

“Anyone else notice how… happy Hotch has been lately?” Emily asked one morning as they gathered around their desks, waiting for the next case.

Morgan leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “You’re right. I haven’t seen Hotch smile this much in… well, ever.”

"Maybe he’s just found a new way to deal with stress. Meditation, perhaps?” Spencer didn't look up from the book he was reading as he answered.

Penelope scoffed, twirling a bright pink pen in her hand. “Please, Reid. Hotch isn’t meditating. Something - or rather someone - has got him smiling.”

The rest of the team exchanged looks, curiosity piqued.

A few days later, their suspicions were confirmed.

It was a slow day at the office, so Hotch decided to take a longer-than-usual lunch break. What he didn’t realize was that his team had quietly followed him to the bakery, determined to find out what - or who - was behind their boss’s newfound cheerfulness.

“Look,” Penelope whispered excitedly from across the street, pointing toward the bakery window. “He’s smiling! He’s actually smiling!”

Sure enough, through the glass, they could see Hotch leaning against the counter, his face lit up in a way they’d never seen before. And then there was you, standing behind the counter with that same soft smile you always gave him.

“Oh my god,” JJ whispered, her eyes wide. “Is that the bakery he always talks about?”

“Looks like it,” Derek said, grinning. “And it looks like our boy is whipped.”

Inside the bakery, Hotch had no idea he was being watched. He was too focused on you - on the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about your latest recipe, the way your hands moved with such care as you worked on rolling out the dough. Every morning spent in your presence was like a small respite from the chaos of his job, and he found himself craving that peace more and more as time went by.

You handed him his coffee, and for a moment, your fingers brushed his. The simple contact sent a warmth through him that no amount of caffeine ever could.

“You know, Aaron,” you said softly, your voice carrying the warmth that always made his mornings a little brighter, “you’re going to start running out of excuses to come here if you keep this up.”

Hotch chuckled, a rare sound that you loved hearing. “I’ll think of something.”

As he turned to leave, he glanced back one more time, catching your eye and giving you a smile that was just for you.

Meanwhile, across the street, Penelope was practically bouncing with excitement. “You guys! He’s totally into her! Did you see that smile? We have to find out more.”

A week later, the team got more than they bargained for.

It was a Friday afternoon, and Hotch had just returned to the office after lunch. He was in a good mood, his smile lingering longer than usual. That’s when Penelope burst into the room, holding up her phone like it was a trophy.

“Guys, you are not going to believe this!” she exclaimed, her voice high with excitement.

The team gathered around, eyes wide as Penelope pulled up a photo she’d found online. It was you and Hotch, taken outside the bakery on a sunny day. He had his arm around your waist, and you were looking up at him with a smile that could melt hearts.

“They’re dating!” Penelope practically squealed. “Hotch is dating the owner of the bakery!”

The rest of the team was equally stunned.

“Okay, now it all makes sense,” Emily said, grinning. “The extra coffee, the smiling, the mysterious bakery trips.”

Morgan shook his head, chuckling. “Never thought I’d see the day when Hotch would be this smitten again. It’s nice to see him happy.”

Penelope, however, was still in full freak-out mode. “Oh my god, we have to do something! Maybe throw them a surprise party or - wait, no, that’s too much. But we have to celebrate this somehow!”

As they brainstormed, Hotch walked back into the bullpen, completely unaware of the chaos his relationship had caused among his team. But when he saw the knowing smiles on their faces, he paused.

“What’s going on?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

Penelope couldn’t hold it in any longer. “We know about the bakery, Hotch! And about her!” she blurted out, practically glowing with excitement.

For a moment, Hotch was silent, his eyes scanning the room before he finally let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “I should’ve known you’d find out eventually.”

The team erupted into laughter, and for the first time in a long time, Aaron Hotchner didn’t mind being the center of attention - because, after all, it was all for a love that made him happier than he’d ever been.

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kurooh · 6 months ago

Text

MY KINDA LOVE ! — JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. what’re your favorite jjk characters’ kinks?

⟡ feat. gojo satoru, geto suguru, sukuna ryōmen, fushiguro toji, kamo choso.

⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), f! reader, modern au, blindfolding, oral [f receiving], fingering, some pussy/clit slaps, degradation, edging, orgasm control, phone sex, masturbation, light choking, exhibitionism, squirting, size kink, rough sex, 69, cuddlefucking, not proofread. 3.5k words wtf

⟡ xoxo, juno: thank you for 2k i’m so grateful for all of you <3 send in some requests & as always rbs are loved !! maybe a pt 2 of this with other characters??

— GOJO SATORU.

★★ satoru loves blindfolding and tying you up, then he teases you until you’re begging him go let you cum. once he’s got you wet and needy, he edges you, then controls when and how you orgasm.

“desperation looks so good on you, baby,” satoru half laughs, half groans as he drinks in your tied up form. could this be any more perfect? god, you’re spread eagle for him, with his favorite black blindfold adorning your face, as well as soft black ropes binding your wrists and ankles to all sides of the bed.

“satoru,” you demand, twisting and bucking against your restraints in frustration. “fuck, you promised you wouldn’t tease me this much, i—ah!”

he lands a smarting slap against your pussy that has you squirming away from him, breaths coming out in puffs and aggravated huffs.

“no, i told you i’d play with you.”

satoru sits on the bed, adjusting so he’s laying on his stomach, then inches towards your twitching pussy.

“i want to cum!” you snap, tears of irritation building at the corners of your eyes beneath the blindfold. of course, he never takes well to you being a fucking brat; he leans close, hot breath fanning over your sticky slit.

“you wanna cum?” he asks darkly, hands coming to rest on your spread thighs.

you nod impatiently, and he hums, moving back slightly. “you know how to ask for it, baby.”

“yes, i want you to make me cum, toru.”

satoru dives into your pussy, obscenely slurping up your wetness and spreading it all over your clit and his own face in his eagerness. he’s tonguing at your slit, dipping inside with just the tip to tease before he’s pushing two thick fingers inside you.

“oh, that’s good,” you moan as he languidly drags his tongue against your clit, head dropping back and missing the way icy blue eyes stare up at you, insatiable.

satoru flicks your puffy clit with his tongue, thrusting his fingers extra hard when your entire body jolts in bliss. “toru, again— do that again, please.”

his hips rut against the bed, cock hard and throbbing for you. he decides he’ll make you cum a few times, and when you’re still reeling, he’ll fuck you so hard you both pass out.

“this?” satoru teases, flicking at your sensitive clit with his tongue a few times and watching you react. moments later, your back is bowing off the bed, tits bouncing nicely as you squeeze down on his fingers, cumming with a whiny keen of his name.

you expect him to kiss your thighs as you come down from your high, help you relax before he fucks you, but he instead wraps his lips around your clit and sucks forcefully. your bound legs kick into the air, straining against the ropes.

“toru, toru that’s too much!” you sob, pleasure mixing with a sting of pain as he ignores you. his fingers are still inside you, and start to thrust again, nearly slipping out with how wet you are.

“you-you’re so sexy like this, baby,” he mumbles against your wet skin, sucking and fingering you with little interest in stopping.

“toru!” you nearly scream, blindfold sliding down the bridge of your sweaty nose, “y-you’re gonna make me cum again, please i’m too sensitive—”

he doesn’t let up, sucking your clit into your second orgasm and right through it, pleased when he sees a tear roll off your jaw.

“oh, but you wanted to cum, didn’t you?”

— GETO SUGURU.

☆☆ much like his best friend, suguru also enjoys controlling your pleasure — but he prefers when it’s mutual, so he has you help him get off over the phone.

“what?” you mumble, staring at the incoming call on your phone after glancing at the time. 2:43 am.

all the sleepy fog in your brain whooshes away as you question why he would be calling you at this time. after all, he’s supposed to be asleep, on a brief vacation trip with satoru, many cities away.

after swiping the answer button, you put your phone against your ear, yawning and leaning back into the mass of pillows at the head of your shared bed. “sugu, is everyth—”

a soft moan has your back straightening, eyes opening fully. “mm, i need you so badly.”

on the other side of the phone—the other side of the country—suguru’s palming lightly at his cock through sweatpants and boxers, in the bathroom of his shared hotel room while satoru’s passed out a good distance from the bathroom.

his admission has heat shooting through your body, accumulating in your pelvis. “what’s going on, suguru?” you ask gently, thighs flexing in excitement.

“we’ve been apart for far too long,” he mumbles, despite knowing it’s been 3 days since he’s been gone and he has 2 more to go before he’s heading back home. “and i just..” his voice trails off as he chuckles lowly, shaking his head, bangs moving back and forth.

“just what, sugu?” you’re hanging on to his every word, eager to hear him moan again.

“oh, i can’t quite seem to stop getting hard ons to you all around the clock,” suguru huffs, slipping a hand beneath the elastic band of his sweatpants.

you giggle, kicking the blankets off your legs and spreading your thighs. “maybe i can help you get off, suguru.” the way you say his name through the phone has him shuddering in his place sitting on the edge of the tub.

he moans, exhaling sharply as he rubs his thumb over the head of his cock through his boxers. god, he needs you in every way right now. bent over, spread open, on your knees, beneath his body..

“panties to the side,” suguru reminds you, fingers brushing over the length of his hard cock as he awaits your instruction, just as you listen to his.

“you sound perfect,” you whine, thumb pressing into your clit as you slowly rub tight circles. “start stroking, baby.. a-and, fast or slow?”

“rub it slowly, no need to rush,” he murmurs firmly, inhaling deeply as he pulls his cock free from his boxers; he tosses his unbound hair over his shoulder, wishing you were pulling on it as hard as you always do.

“sugu, when you’re back, i want you to eat me out,” you whisper, spreading your own wetness over your clit like he would’ve done with his own fingers.

“oh, i will,” suguru tightens his grip as he slides his fist up his cock, then loosening as he comes back down, “you remember that time you used that stupid kit on me and we made a dildo?”

“oh yeah,” you laugh lowly, recalling the memory and breaking off into a moan as you rub your clit, “you couldn’t stay hard when i was trying to put the plaster on you.”

his face straightens out and he groans, rolling his eyes, cock in hand. “shut up and fuck yourself with the dildo we made.”

you lean over, opening the nightstand drawer and pulling the aforementioned dildo out, holding it firmly. it really does look like suguru’s cock. “i want the real thing,” you breathe, lubing it up with your own wetness before pushing it inside your squeezing pussy. “sugu, feels really good..”

he moans, speeding up his pace on his cock as you develop a tempo with the dildo, rubbing your clit at the same time and setting your phone on speaker. “i want to cum with you,” suguru groans, soft and oh so sexy, “now and when we see each other again.”

the dildo’s going deep, stretching you out and filling you up almost as good as his cock does. your mouth hangs open as you press into the pillows, legs open as you moan carelessly. sticky slick slides down your skin, pooling in the sheets beneath you, but you don’t even care, too focused on your impending orgasm and how creamy the dildo’s making your pussy.

“sugu, faster, please, need you to cum with me!”

“don’t worry, sweet thing,” suguru grunts, fisting his cock tighter as more precum runs down the sides of his tip.

soon, heat swirls inside your pussy, clit becoming too sensitive, and you whine loudly, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. similarly, he’s close to bursting with pressure. “cum with me, suguru!” you exclaim, breathless as each thrust from the dildo punches the air from your lungs.

he nods, then remembers you can’t see him. “cum with me, baby—ughhh.. shit, i’m gonna fucking cum, please cum with me!” suguru’s frenzied words have you cumming hard, body jackknifing as your pussy contracts, muscles in your thighs cramping from the force of the orgasm.

meanwhile, he’s got his fingers over his tip to prevent the cum from shooting up and turning into a mess; it pours down his cock in sticky white globs, and all he can think about is you cleaning it up with either your greedy pussy or your impatient tongue. he pants, still sensitive.

“are you alright? you came pretty hard, and god it was so fucking sexy.”

you can barely breathe, dildo in your sticky hand as you turn to move your mouth to the speaker. “i-i’m okay, sugu. and thanks, you sound pretty hot yourself.”

he laughs, grabbing some nearby tissues to clean himself up. “it’s goodnight, then?” a small smile plays on suguru’s lips when he hears you yawn, the bed creaking slightly as you stand up to turn on the lights.

“not yet, i’ve gotta change the sheets..” you turn on the light, squinting and then rolling your eyes at your now flashing phone. “suguru, why are you facetiming me?”

— SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

★★ sukuna always has you wet and needy for him, no matter if you’re in a public space or a private one. very occasionally, he lets you tease him until he’s tearing your clothes off somewhere where he definitely shouldn’t be.

“you’d better be quiet, brat, or everyone’s gonna hear how much of a fucking slut you are.” sukuna hisses, fingers pushing into you deeper while his free hand grasps at your throat.

“ah, kuna, ‘m trying— shit, your fingers feel so good!” you exclaim, whimpering as his grip tightens almost immediately.

“trying isn’t good enough. be fuckin’ quiet,” his lips brush over the shell of your ear before he bites down lightly, fingers curling inside you and pushing hard into your g-spot.

the air’s hot in the dressing room, heavy with the sounds of your panting and his hushed groans, muffled by your skin as he presses his face against your neck. sukuna’s sitting on the small stool provided in the dressing room to assist with changing, hard cock twitching against your bare ass as you twist in his lap, hole clenching around his fingers.

you’d been teasing him during your shopping trip, giggling as you’d brush against him with far too much pressure for it to be called an accident, sticking your tongue out when he’d lean in for a chaste kiss. all of that pissed him the fuck off, and the second you suggested heading into a store to try on a few sundresses, he’d practically dragged you into the dressing room, slipping past the attendant with ease.

now, your needy pussy’s stuffed with his fingers, sundresses untouched and hanging on the hook. footsteps sound past the door, and sukuna’s fingers go from curling deep to scissoring in and out of your dripping pussy.

“aw, look at you,” he sneers, heel of his hand bumping into your clit haphazardly as he fingers you roughly. “you were such a brat earlier, now you’re dripping all over me like a whore, all in public.”

“‘kuna, faster, please let me cum!” your face burns, head spinning when he actually obliges, fingertips pressing into your cervix with each of his thrusts.

“mmm, fine. i suppose you can, brat.”

“t-thank you, thank you so much.” you stutter, sloppy pussy squelching.

you turn your head, whining as your lips search for his; his hand slides up your throat before settling firmly beneath your chin. he tugs you into a hot kiss, nipping hard at your soft lips and making you squeal.

unhappy with your noise, sukuna brings the heel of his palm against your clit sharply, and you fall quiet, trembling violently. so much so that you can’t even kiss him, instead bringing your own hand up to your mouth and jamming your knuckles into your mouth.

“tsk, that good, huh?” sukuna sounds pleased, but what else would he be? he’s watching you melt into a mess in his lap, all from such simple stimulation.

“yes,” you mumble, leaning your head back against his chest as you feel your orgasm approaching. a large hand firmly wraps around your throat, and crimson eyes sparkle as you start to tense up.

“gonna cum for you, kuna,” is all you can rasp out when he’s squeezing so hard on your throat your eyes are rolling back, and you’re seeing stars.

the first quick contractions of your pussy only inspire him to move his fingers faster, until you’re arching against him and orgasming as silently as possible, a few tears rolling down your burning cheeks.

sukuna hums lowly as he releases your neck, smirking down at your sweaty, fucked out face. “tired yourself out yet, brat? you’re in for some more when we get back home.”

— FUSHIGURO TOJI.

☆☆ to toji, sex isn’t good sex if you’re not a dripping, fucked out mess collapsing on him by the end of it. his favorite part of sex is watching his cock stuff your little pussy, and he smirks when you cry about how big he is.

“t-toji, it won’t fucking fit!” you cry in aggravation, scrunching up your tears stained face. you’ve been straddling him, trying to ride his cock for far too long, all while toji sits back.

“if ya want it so bad, try ‘nd do it without my help, doll” was what he’d said when you told him you were finally ready to move beyond oral sex.

after letting him fuck your throat a few times, and messing around with some pussy jobs, you understood just how big his cock was. however, you didn’t expect to struggle this much to even get him inside your prepped pussy.

“no need to cry.. you want some help, babygirl?” an infuriating smirk plays on toji’s lips as he so obviously enjoys your pathetic struggle to get his dick inside you. honestly, he didn’t expect you to keep trying as much as you already have; clearly you’re determined to be fucked. you nod, wiping at your eyes hard.

“well then, get on your hands and knees.”

you do as he demands, body swaying with anticipation as you hear him grunt behind you. toji spreads your ass cheeks out forcefully, and you’re gasping as his sticky tip presses into your quivering pussy. “t-toji, you’re huge,” you heave, stating the obvious.

“i know, doll,” he replies, snickering quietly as he slowly pushes forward. “it’ll all disappear inside your greedy pussy pretty soon.”

“i-i doubt that, i couldn’t even get it in earlier—”

“oh yeah? you wanna doubt me, doll?” toji rasps, voice darkened with some sort of hunger.

he doesn’t even let you answer before rough palms are rubbing across your skin and fingers are digging into your hips; then he’s unceremoniously shoving his full length into your drooling, needy cunt.

a heated mix of pain and pleasure rips right through you as he stretches you out with a strained groan. “toji!” you practically scream, shaking hard as you spasm all over his length. “you’re so deep inside, i can’t—”

“you can’t?” toji parrots, hand coming down on your ass nice and hard. “don’t say that shit. you can, and you will.” leaving absolutely no room for discussion, his hips surge forward, driving his cock as far as it’ll go inside you. you can only gasp as toji’s thrusts shove the air right out of your lungs, and suddenly you think you can feel him in your stomach.

as his thick tip slams into an especially sensitive place inside your pussy, a new sensation sets your entire body alight with bliss. wet sounds rise above the sound of skin smacking against skin, and toji laughs behind you before his amusement is cut off with a lusty groan. “oh yeah, princess. that’s it, be a good girl ‘n cum all over me.”

so that’s what this is? you’ve never felt so sensitive, not when he was eating you out or when he was fingering you as hard as he does. no, this is different. before you can think any further about what may be happening, cum sprays out of you, all over his pelvis and abs.

you’re collapsing onto the bed, sobbing into the sheets while the pace of his hips only quickens. drool seeps from the corners of your lips, trailing down your skin and into the sheets.

“gonna cum inside you, babygirl,” toji moans, seconds before his cock is thickening and spilling inside your overstimulated pussy.

he sits back, chest heaving as he watches you keel over, shaking. drool’s covering your chin, and your squirt and his cum leaks from your puffy, quivering.

“anyone in there, doll?” toji lightly slaps your cheek, grinning as you roll over with a whine. he scoops you into his arms, carrying you bridal style out of the bedroom and into the connected bathroom.

“i’ll run a bath for you ‘n join you after changing the sheets, yeah?”

your tits bounce as you shake your head, legs wobbly when he places you down. “mm mm, i want you to be in the bath with me right now.”

“okay, the sheets—”

you level him with a pout, unintentionally trembling all over, and he caves far too easily.

“fine, but don’t complain later when we get out ‘nd you have to help me change the sheets, babygirl.”

— KAMO CHOSO.

★★ choso’s very particular about when and where he cums, going so far as to deny himself during a blowjob just so he’ll be able to fill you up. additionally, he’s often a little romantic, preferring closeness over all else when it comes to positions.

“oh, you taste good, choso.” your words, mumbled against the tip of his cock, cause his face to flush darkly. choso’s hands smooth over your hips before he tugs you backwards, trying to fuck his tongue deeper inside your creamy hole. your body spasms as you cum on his tongue, thighs tensing as you moan on his cock.

all he can do is gasp into you when you wrap your lips around his tip and slide down his length. his balls tense up as white hot pressure develops inside his cock, and he starts to whine, twisting away, but you’re holding his base firmly.

“let go,” choso gasps, staving off his orgasm as it bubbles up quickly. “don’t wanna cum like this.”

“cho, i want you to fill up my mouth.”

he shakes his head, tousled dark hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and sticky cheeks. “i wanna fill your pussy up, though,” he whines, finally pulling his cock free from your grip and flipping the two of you over so that you’re laying down instead of being in a 69.

“lift your leg up, sweetheart,” choso pushes you onto your side, grabbing his throbbing cock by the base and guiding his heavy tip between your folds. with his cheek pressed against yours, body curled around your own, he presses forward before fully shoving in. all you can do is struggle for breath as choso wraps a well-muscled arm around your waist and starts pounding away, groaning into your ear.

“slow down, please— ah!” sensitive all over and reeling from how roughly he’s moving, tears slip from your eyes as you let out little whines of his name.

“aww, don’t cry, baby,” choso murmurs, kissing your cheek and wiping the tears from your skin with gentle fingertips. “i’ll go slow, if that’s what you really want.” when you nod, he draws his hips back and begins to thrust with less speed and force. the change in momentum allows you to enjoy each drag of his cock back and forth inside you, his cockhead prodding into the deepest spots deliciously. meanwhile, choso’s got his face buried in your neck, inhaling your natural scent as he kisses and nips at the supple skin.

now that you’ve adjusted to his cock, you say breathlessly, tugging at his hand, “i-i want you to go faster, cho.”

“you can take it?” he questions, looking towards you with an arched brow as his hips pause momentarily.

“i promise,” you’re barely through the second word of your sentence before he’s already fucking into you mercilessly, now mumbling something unintelligible into your neck. his fingers rush from the softness of your abdomen to the wet skin of your folds, spreading them haphazardly as he searches for your clit, rubbing at it firmly.

choso’s chest heaves against your back as he clutches you tighter, struggling for breath. “oh, oh baby, ughhh— i’m gonna cum..” your hand slips beneath his chin easily as you pull him into a kiss, absorbing his gasps as they turn to whimpers against your plush lips.

hot cum pours deep inside you, and choso trembles as you squeeze down on him. he breaks away from the kiss, lifting your leg and pulling his cock from you, watching your fluttering pussy raptly.

white globs of cum leak out of your hole, dripping down your skin before you swipe most of it up with two fingers. choso thinks he’s burning, a blush rising high on his face as he watches you push your cum covered fingers into your mouth and suck. now he almost regrets not getting that blowjob earlier.

you let your fingers go with a pop, smacking your lips as you look at him innocently, giggling a little at the shock on his face.

“something wrong, choso? you’re flushed.”

“you know exactly what’s not wrong,” he huffs, leaning in for a kiss to taste himself on your tongue.

“cho, are you hard again?” a firmness presses against your backside, and he’s smirking now.

“i think you’ll have to suck me off until i can't get hard, baby.”

#kurooh #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #toji smut #toji x reader #choso smut #choso x reader #choso x you #toji x you #sukuna x you #jjk x you

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buckets-and-trees · 4 months ago

Note

Mob Bucky respects your own financial independence, but he also made sure you have access to his black card and use it when you need it. He doesn't care what you spend the money on, especially since the notification he gets those very rare times that you use his money is to buy something most practical or for your shared apartment.

However, he does not expect to see a notification for the purchase of some sex toys 😏

CHOCOLATE

Collection: DEVOUR Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!James Buchanan Barnes x Female!Chef!Reader Word Count: 5.6k Timeline: Takes place 1-2 weeks after mint, 2-3 weeks after heat.

Content & Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT - vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, creampie, food play, breeding kink. Feelings, so many feelings.

Author Notes: Surprise! At some points during the 2200 Followers Celebration poll, Devour Bucky and Chef were actually winning, so here's something I started months and months ago and brought out to finish for them. It's not quite everything from your ask, Eva, but I hope it's a satisfying scenario all the same...

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You had known the exact moment your fiancé – mob boss, venture capitalist, or philanthropist depending on who you asked and what they knew – got the notification of your purchase.

James Buchanan Barnes had given you a black card weeks ago, before the engagement, but you hadn’t used it until this week. Bucky had gone to Chicago for business (and you were sure he was there for business as well), and instead of staying home and pining away for him, you decided to treat yourself. The notification must have pinged his phone during a meeting, because exactly 47 minutes later, your own phone lit up with his name.

"What's this Cartier expense I see?" his voice a dangerous mix of amusement and curiosity.

You swallowed hard, fingering the velvet box in your lap. "Just a little shopping therapy while you're away. Nothing to worry about."

"Mmm," he hummed, unconvinced. "And here I thought I was the one who was supposed to shower you with gifts."

"Well," you said, "maybe I wanted to surprise you for once."

There was a pause, and you could almost see him leaning back in his chair, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "I suppose I am a little surprised you finally used the card. But how about a challenge?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Why don’t you see if you can shock me with a purchase?”

“Challenge accepted. What do I get?”

He chuckled. “You already know I’ll give you the world.”

Butterflies surged in your stomach. This man.

“You’re back Saturday afternoon?” you confirmed.

“Yes,” he growled. “There’s a round of golf I can’t seem to move or negotiate.”

You sighed softly. “It’s only three more days.”

“I like that you miss me.”

You huffed but couldn’t deny it.

“I’m missing you, too,” he said.

“James…” you breathed.

“Did you get the gift I sent?”

“I did.” A stunning, six-foot mirror with an ornate, gold-gilded frame had been delivered that morning to your apartment and placed in your bedroom.

“I was taken with how beautiful it was and you were my first thought.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I love you,” you said.

“I love you, too. I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

When you woke up Friday morning, you knew exactly how to shock him with the black card.

Or at least tease him.

The high-end, ridiculously expensive lingerie boutique you never thought you would enter in your lifetime - Boudoir.

The response to that expense notification was immediate, and you smirked when you read the text that came through.

JAMES: You have my interest piqued.

You thought for a moment, then typed out a reply.

YOU: Thought maybe I’d see if I can shock you and send some photos of what I got later tonight.

Three dots appeared straight away, and then

JAMES: Forget photos, I’ll fly out tonight straight away after my meeting with Levinson and come straight to you.

Your breath caught in your throat, heart swelling with adoration, anticipation, and maybe just a touch of nerves. You looked up the latest flights out of Chicago, and couldn’t help feeling a little forlorn. Even though the restaurant head chef life meant late nights for work, it would still be an ungodly hour when he landed.

YOU: I’ll try to stay up, but promise to wake me up if I’m asleep?

Again, you didn't have to wait long for his reply.

JAMES: I promise. Nothing could keep me from you tonight.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. You glanced at the clock - it was barely noon. The hours until his arrival stretched before you, filled with anticipation and nervous energy. You busied yourself with things before work, trying to focus on anything other than the ticking clock and the bag from Boudoir sitting in your closet.

At Devour your mind was engaged fully in your craft and working with your team.

But once you returned home after the Friday night dinner service, you found yourself pacing the apartment, unable to settle. Should you put on the lingerie now? Wait until you heard from him? You compromised by showering and doing your hair and makeup, then slipping into a silky robe.

Just as you were debating whether to pour yourself a glass of wine to calm your nerves, your phone pinged.

JAMES: Landed. On my way to you.

Far earlier than you expected him, but a good thing, too.

Your heart raced as you read his message. You quickly made your way to the bedroom, retrieving the Boudoir bag from the closet with trembling hands. The delicate lace and silk felt cool against your skin as you slipped into the lingerie, adjusting the straps and garters with care. You stood before the new mirror James had sent, admiring how the deep, rich color complemented your skin tone. The set hugged your curves in all the right places. Standing before the mirror James had gifted you, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence.

A text alert broke your reverie.

JAMES: Five minutes.

You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the silky fabric once more before draping the robe back over your shoulders. You dimmed the lights in the bedroom and lit a few candles, creating a soft, inviting ambiance.

The sound of a key in the lock made your pulse quicken. You perched on the edge of the bed, listening as Bucky’s footsteps approached.

The bedroom door opened slowly, and he stepped inside, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. His gaze was intense, a mix of hunger and adoration that made your breath catch in your throat. Would you ever get used to the way he looked at you?

"Well," he said, his voice low and gravelly, "this is certainly a welcome home."

You stood, your fingers toying with the tie of your robe. "I thought you might appreciate a little preview of my shopping spree."

He set a golden box on your dresser and then moved closer, his steps deliberate and predatory. He reached out, running his fingers along the edge of your robe. "May I?"

You nodded, your heart racing as he slowly undid the tie and pushed the silky fabric off your shoulders. The robe pooled at your feet, leaving you standing before him in the exquisite lingerie.

Bucky inhaled sharply, his eyes roaming over every inch of you. "Beautiful.” His hands settled on your waist, pulling you flush against him. "Show me how much you missed me," he growled.

You leaned into him, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. "I thought you were going to show me how much you missed me," you teased, running your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

He chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, I intend to," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "But first, I want to savor this moment. You've outdone yourself."

His hands roamed over the delicate lace and silk, tracing the curves of your body with a reverence that made your breath hitch. You could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the barely contained power in his muscles as he held you close.

“I thought you wouldn’t be here until much, much later,” you said, breathing in the scent of him, cologne mingled with his natural musk. “The flights I saw had landings after midnight.”

He snorted. “My private jet provides service according to my schedule, not anyone else’s.”

“Oh,” was your soft and surprised reaction, realizing you should not be at all surprised to learn he owned a private jet.

"Turn around, love," he commanded softly. "Let me see all of you."

You complied, slowly spinning to face the mirror. He stood behind you, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. His hands skimmed down your sides, fingertips tracing the lace edges of your lingerie. You shivered at his touch, watching as his expression darkened with desire.

"Do you see how stunning you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How every curve, every line of your body is a work of art?"

You leaned back against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him. "I see how you look at me," you whispered. "That's what makes me feel beautiful."

You watched in the mirror as his lips trailed up your neck, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin. Your breath quickened as one of his hands splayed across your stomach, pulling you back against him.

He growled low in his throat, his arms tightening around you. "You still have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice rough with need. His fingers traced the edge of the lace at your hip.

You turned in his arms, reaching up to cup his face. "Then show me," you challenged, your eyes locked on his.

Impossibly, his eyes darkened even more at your words, a predatory smile curving his lips. In one fluid motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss as he carried you to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness.

"You want me to show you?" he growled, hovering over you. His fingers traced the delicate straps of your lingerie, sending shivers across your skin. "I'll show you exactly what you do to me."

He began a torturous exploration of your body, his lips and hands mapping every inch of you. The exquisite lingerie became both a barrier and a tantalizing tease as Bucky lavished attention on the exposed skin while skimming over the lace and silk. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"James," you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair. "Please…"

He chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Patience, love. I've been dreaming of you all week."

His talented fingers deftly unclasped the delicate hooks of your bra, slowly peeling the lace away to reveal your skin beneath. You gasped as the cool air hit your heated flesh, arching into his touch as he palmed your breasts.

"Beautiful," he murmured, lowering his head to trail kisses along your collarbone. "So fucking beautiful."

You tugged at his shirt, suddenly desperate to feel his skin against yours. "Too many clothes," you panted, fumbling with the buttons.

Bucky chuckled, sitting back on his heels to shrug off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. Your eyes roamed hungrily over his sculpted torso as more of his skin was revealed. The dim candlelight cast shadows that accentuated every plane and angle of his muscular form.

"Like what you see?" he teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Always," you breathed, reaching up to run your hands over his chest and shoulders.

He caught your wrists gently, pinning them above your head as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

You melted into his kiss, your body arching up to meet his as he pressed you into the mattress. The weight of him, the heat of his skin against yours, was intoxicating. You tugged at his grip on your wrists, desperate to touch him, but he held firm.

"Ah ah," he murmured against your lips. "I'm not done admiring my gift yet."

His free hand skimmed down your side, fingers dancing along the edge of your panties. You whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily as he teased you.

"James, please," you gasped, breaking away from the kiss.

He chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that sent shivers down your spine. "So impatient," he tsked, nipping at your lower lip. "But I suppose I have kept you waiting all week, haven't I?"

In one fluid motion, he released your wrists and moved down your body. His lips and tongue traced a burning path along your skin, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts before continuing lower.

With deft movements, he removed the rest of your lingerie, his eyes dark with hunger as he drank in the sight of you. You reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in your eagerness. Bucky chuckled, gently moving your hands aside to finish undressing himself.

Finally skin to skin, you both sighed at the contact. Bucky's weight settled over you, comforting and electrifying all at once. His lips found yours again as he entered you slowly, savoring every inch. You gasped against his mouth, your body arching to take him deeper.

"God, I've missed you," Bucky growled, his forehead pressed against yours as he stilled for a moment.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him closer. "Show me," you breathed, nails raking down his back.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Bucky began to move, setting a rhythm that had you clinging to him, gasping his name. His lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there as his hips drove into yours.

You lost yourself in the sensations - the slide of his skin against yours, the delicious friction where your bodies joined, the heat of his breath on your neck. Your hands roamed his broad back, feeling the flex and ripple of his muscles as he moved above you.

"James," you moaned, feeling the familiar tension building low in your belly. "I'm close."

Bucky slowed his movements, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I'm not done with you."

With a low growl, he suddenly withdrew, leaving you gasping at the loss. Before you could protest, his strong hands grasped your hips and flipped you onto your stomach.

His palms glided down your sides, fingertips tracing the curve of your spine. You shivered at his touch, anticipation building as he gently urged your hips upward.

"On your knees for me, beautiful," he commanded softly, his palms smoothing over the swell of your backside.

You complied eagerly, pushing yourself up onto all fours. The cool air of the room kissed your heated skin, making you hyper-aware of every sensation. Bucky's hands continued their journey, kneading the flesh of your thighs and hips with intent appreciation.

You felt the bed shift as he positioned himself behind you, the heat of his body radiating against your back. His fingers tangled in your hair, gently tugging your head back. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke.

"You're a vision like this," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So perfect for me."

You whimpered, pressing back against him, desperate for more contact. Bucky chuckled, the sound vibrating through your body. Slowly, torturously, he dragged the tip of his length along your folds, teasing your clit with the blunt head of his cock.

You gasped at the sensation, your fingers curling into the sheets. "James, please," you whimpered, pushing back against him.

He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "So eager for me," he murmured, positioning himself at your entrance. "Tell me what you want."

"You," you breathed, looking back over your shoulder to meet his intense gaze. "I want you, James. Please."

With a low growl, he pushed into you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely. You both moaned at the sensation, savoring the feeling of being joined once again. Bucky stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against your back as he struggled to maintain control.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. "So tight, so wet, so warm and perfect for me."

He began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had you gasping with each thrust. Your fingers clutched at the sheets, desperate for something to anchor you as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky's hands roamed your body, caressing and squeezing, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

"Look,” he said, and turned your head to take in the sight of you two in the mirror.

You locked your eyes on his through the reflection. “Need you to see how gorgeous you are when you come apart for me.”

You keened for him as he pulled you back on his cock with a particularly demanding thrust.

“When I breed you.”

You gasped.

He groaned and curled his body down over your back.

Because you also clenched powerfully around his cock.

“Mmm, you like that,” he murmured right into your ear, then licked the shell of it. “Want to be bred,” he continued, pace unyielding as he split you open with his cock. “Not as much as I want to fill you up with my seed,” another thrust, “until you’re growing with my child,” another thrust, “no question who you belong to,” thrust, “that you’re claimed,” thrust, “that you’re mine.”

You were utterly breathless for a moment, and he registered that, too, just as he registers every movement, every reaction.

He continued to thrust slowly in and out of your leaking cunt, but he noticed you were no longer fluid and pliant, but that you had tensed up. He stopped. “What’s going on in your beautiful head?”

You bit your lip, and your head dropped down, turning away from his direct gaze in the mirror.

He pulled out and laid on his side next to you.

“Talk to me,” he said, and you weren’t sure if this tone was commanding or pleading, but it was certainly serious.

You sat up, folded your hands in your lap and took a deep breath. As steadily as you could, you said, “You knew my measurements and had sent a perfect wardrobe of intimates to me withing twenty-four hours of our first encounter.”

He nodded, his lips quirking up at the corner.

“So, I assume you also know I have an IUD, and that you that knew before you fucked me in the kitchen that first night at the restaurant.”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“I’m nowhere near ready to think about children.”

He leaned up on one elbow and reached for your hands, smoothing his thumb back and forth over your knuckles. “We have as much time to think about that as you want.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your eyes searched his. You could see he wasn’t merely trying to tell you what you wanted to hear - he never had.

“I look forward to children with you one day, but I’m in no rush. When I imagined settling down with a wife,” he continued, “I didn’t think it would be for another five or six years, but once I found you, there was no question that I wanted you.”

"I want that future with you too, just... not quite yet."

Bucky sat up, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs stroked your cheeks gently as he looked into your eyes. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Sometimes I get carried away in the moment. You inspire that in me. But I never want you to feel uncomfortable or trapped.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, your body relaxing as you processed his words. "I'm sorry," you murmured, leaning into his touch. "I didn't mean to kill the mood."

Bucky shook his head, pulling you closer. "Don't apologize. Communication is important, especially about something like this." His fingers traced soothing patterns on your skin.

You nodded, feeling a surge of warmth and affection for this man who could be so commanding and intense one moment, and so tender and understanding the next. "I love you," you said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

Bucky responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around you as he deepened the kiss. When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. "I love you too," he murmured. "More than I ever thought possible."

His hands began to roam your body again, easily reigniting the need in both of your for each other.

You broke off the kiss briefly, "Just so we're clearly communicating, breeding kink? Yes. Children yet? No."

"Noted," he laughed, and returned to devouring your lips.

Bucky shifted his position from sitting to kneeling, settling back on his heels, then with one fluid motion he turned you and pulled you into his lap with your thighs falling on either side of his into a wide, kneeling position. He lifted your hips, then lined up his cock with your entrance, and brought you down again on his length. He guided your hips until you were impaled all the way down. The new angle sent sparks of pleasure through your body, drawing a low moan from your lips.

He banded his left arm around your torso, and his right hand smoothed up your sternum, between your breasts, coming to rest in a secure hold on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but the feel of him inside you, behind you, right at your back, every inch of your bodies pressed together. Your left hand traced over his forearm, then tangled with his fingers around your waist, your other hand moving back to anchor yourself on his hip. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, then began thrusting. Each thrust seemed to push a deep moan out of you for him, and you didn’t hold back.

"Open your eyes," he commanded softly, his breath hot against your ear. "Look at us."

You obeyed, your gaze meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. The sight before you was breathtaking. Bucky sat tall and powerful behind you, his muscular thighs flexed as he supported your weight. Your body was on full display, skin flushed and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. His thick arm across your stomach, holding you close against his chest.

"Do you see how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How perfectly you fit with me?"

You watched in the mirror as one of his hands slowly trailed up your body, cupping your breast and teasing the sensitive peak. Your back arched at his touch, pressing you further onto his cock.

Bucky groaned, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. "That's it," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "Feel me inside you."

Entranced by his words and the intoxicating view in the mirror, you began to move. You rolled your hips, grinding down onto him in a slow, sensual rhythm. Bucky's hands guided your movements, his fingers digging into your flesh as he helped you ride him.

You watched in fascination as your bodies moved together, mesmerized by the play of muscles beneath Bucky's skin and the way your own body responded to his touch. The sight of him disappearing inside you with each downward motion was almost too much to bear.

"James," you gasped, your head falling back onto his shoulder as the pleasure built. "Oh god, James..."

“No,” he growled, and his hand went up to your neck, taking you by the throat, not aggressive, but commanding, making it clear that he wanted you to keep looking in the mirror. “I won’t let you fucking miss this.”

It occurred to you then that this handsome, audacious bastard, the fiancé who you’d given your heart to, knew exactly what he wanted when he sent you this mirror and had it placed in the exact spot in front of you now.

He wanted this.

He wanted to see this and have you see this. The debauchery and the devotion while the two of you were intimate together.

Your eyes locked with his in the mirror, the intensity of his gaze pushing you even closer to the brink. You watched as his free hand slid down your body, fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. The dual stimulation of his cock inside you and his fingers on your most sensitive area becoming more frantic. Bucky's grip on your hips tightened, guiding you into a faster pace.

"That's it, love," he growled, his voice low and husky in your ear. "Let go for me. I want to see you come undone."

His words, combined with the intense sensations and the erotic sight in the mirror, and touch pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body tensing and shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky held you tightly against him, his hips still moving as he worked you through your orgasm.

"Beautiful," he murmured, pressing kisses along your shoulder and neck. "So fucking beautiful."

As the aftershocks subsided, Bucky gently turned you in his lap so you were facing him. His hands cupped your face, drawing you in for a deep, passionate kiss. You could feel him still hard inside you, and you rocked your hips, drawing a groan from his lips.

"Your turn," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.

With a growl, Bucky flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle as he began to thrust into you with renewed vigor.

You gasped at the deeper penetration, your hands clutching at his back as he sunk into you. The room filled with the sounds of your moans, heavy breaths, and the slap of skin on skin.

You reached up, pulling him down for a passionate kiss while he worked up to a relentless pace. He drove into you with powerful thrusts, each one pushing the air from your lungs. Your other leg wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper as you felt another orgasm building.

"James," you panted, your nails raking down his back, "I'm so close again."

He growled, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor. "My good girl, I’ll always give you what you need."

His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your oversensitive clit. The added stimulation was almost too much, pushing you right to the edge. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as your second orgasm crashed over you.

Bucky's rhythm faltered as your walls clenched around him. With a deep groan, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his body shuddering as he found his own release. You felt the warmth of his seed spilling inside you, prolonging your own pleasure.

For a moment, you both lay there, panting and trembling in the aftermath. Bucky's weight was comforting on top of you, grounding you as you floated in post-orgasmic bliss. He pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder, murmuring words of love and praise against your skin.

Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were tucked against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as your breathing slowly returned to normal. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and feeling utterly content.

"I love you," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone.

Bucky's hand stroked up and down your back, his touch soothing and gentle. "I love you too," he replied, his voice deep and warm. "More than I thought possible."

You hummed in agreement, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. The room was quiet save for the sound of your breathing and the faint flicker of the candles.

After a few moments, Bucky spoke again, his voice soft. "I meant what I said earlier. About children, about our future. We have all the time in the world."

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "I know," you said, leaning in to kiss him gently. "Thank you for understanding."

He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Always. We're partners in this, in everything."

You lay in comfortable silence again for a while, basking in the afterglow and each other's presence. Bucky's fingers idly traced patterns on your skin, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

"I missed this," you said softly, breaking the silence. "Having you here, holding me." Everything with him was still relatively so new, but it felt like this was exactly how it always should be.

He hummed in agreement, tightening his arms around you. "Me too. Those nights in Chicago felt endless without you."

You tilted your head up to look at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Well, you're home now. And you brought me another present, didn’t you?”

“Oh, you noticed that golden box I brought in with me, did you?”

“Yes, can I have it, please?” you asked sweetly, your curiosity thrumming more with each second now that you had remembered it.

He chuckled at your eagerness, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reluctantly disentangling himself from your embrace. "Alright, love. Your wish is my command."

You watched appreciatively as he padded across the room, admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin. He retrieved the golden box from the dresser and returned to the bed, settling beside you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Close your eyes," he instructed softly, and you complied, feeling a thrill of anticipation.

You heard the rustle of paper and the soft click of a box opening. A moment later, an intoxicating aroma filled the air - rich, complex, with notes of cocoa, vanilla, and something tantalizingly exotic.

"Open," Bucky murmured.

Parting your lips, you allowed him to place a morsel of chocolate in your mouth.

The chocolate melted slowly on your tongue, releasing layers of flavor that made you moan softly in delight. Rich, dark cocoa mingled with hints of caramel and a subtle spiciness that lingered pleasantly. As the last of it dissolved, you opened your eyes to find Bucky watching you intently, his gaze dark with renewed desire.

"Good?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, licking your lips. "Incredible. What is it?"

He smiled, holding up an elegantly crafted golden box. "Amedei Porcelana. Some of the rarest and most expensive chocolate in the world. I had it flown in from Tuscany."

Your eyes widened. "James, that must have cost a fortune."

He shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "What's the point of having money if I can't spoil my beautiful fiancée?" His fingers traced along your jawline. "Besides, watching you enjoy it is worth every penny."

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words and the intensity of his gaze. Bucky leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. The lingering taste of chocolate on your tongue mingled with his unique flavor, creating an intoxicating blend. His hand cupped the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss.

When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, Bucky rested his forehead against yours. "I think I might enjoy that chocolate even more when I taste it on your lips," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You smiled, reaching for the box. "Well, we have plenty more to sample. Maybe we should conduct a thorough taste test?"

Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I like the way you think, chef."

He took the box from your hands, selecting another piece of chocolate. This time, instead of feeding it to you, he placed it between his teeth, raising an eyebrow in challenge. You leaned in, capturing the other half of the chocolate with your lips, your mouths meeting in a sweet, decadent kiss.

As the night wore on, you continued your playful exploration, alternating between savoring the exquisite chocolate and indulging in each other. Bucky trailed pieces along your skin, following the path with his lips and tongue. You reciprocated, drawing patterns on his sculpted chest and abs with melted chocolate before licking it clean.

The room filled with soft sighs, quiet laughter, and murmured words of affection as you rediscovered each other's bodies. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over your intertwined forms, creating an intimate cocoon that seemed to exist outside of time.

As dawn approached, you lay tangled together, satiated and drowsy. Bucky's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

"I could get used to welcomes like this," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You hummed contentedly, nuzzling closer. "Maybe I should send you away more often if this is how you come back to me."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Don't you dare. I much prefer having you by my side every day."

You smiled, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Me too," you admitted softly. "Though I have to say, absence does make the heart grow fonder."

"And apparently inspires some very creative shopping," he teased, his hand skimming down your side to rest on your hip.

You laughed, a warm, carefree sound that filled the room. "Well, I had to make sure you'd remember me while you were away."

"Impossible," Bucky murmured, his voice taking on a more serious tone. His fingers traced the curve of your cheek, his touch feather-light but ardent. "You're etched into every part of me now, love."

The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. Even after hours of intimacy, he still had the power to make your heart race with just a look. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of your shared feelings.

As you parted, you noticed the first rays of dawn peeking in through the curtains of your window. You settled your head against his shoulder, and only just registered the press of his lips in a kiss to your forehead before you dropped off to sleep in his arms in the morning light, thoroughly exhausted and thoroughly in love with this man.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Read more in the DEVOUR collection...

Some of this was content I cut from the final chapter of the original 4-parts of the series (heat) that once I got to the end of that chapter felt like it didn't fit anymore, but it was stuff I couldn't throw away, so I just kept it, knowing it would have a place at some point in their story later, so I'm glad I finally got to share it with you!

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #mob au #bucky barnes fanfic #female reader #devour au #aspen wrote something #2200 followers celebration #askpen #kink: breeding #kink: food play

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dcxdpdabbles · 24 days ago

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Hi I love rereading all your fics and prompts! Like, multiple times throughout the day. I have a schedule. Your works are my literal bed time stories (wow that sounded weird).

Anyways (before I ramble any worse). Any updates for Child support? I just love it so much and wondering if there's more

John throws himself to the side, barely avoiding a grab from a fifth-dimension demon throwing a fit after he rejects its request to marry his son. He rolls across the ground, powering up a spell, as he mentally curses his age.

Maybe Batman was right. He should work on his physical form a little more.

"Wait! Wait! I'm sorry! Can we talk about this-" Whatever the demon was going to say is lost after John's spell slams into its chest, throwing it back out of his dimension and sealing him from his Earth for fifty years. The spell is helpful, but fifty years doesn't mean much to demons, and it will wait decades to come back and bother them.

Thankfully, John will likely be long-dead before then. It's always been his solution for most of his problems. Pushing a problem to a later date where it can become someone else's problem.

But what about his son?

Danny, who was half of Time itself, would likely be around in fifty years. If there was one thing he didn't want, it was to leave Danny with all his messes. He'll have to learn a new banishing spell and find some instructors who could teach him an entirely new magic dueling technique.

It was the responsible thing to do. Ugh, fatherhood was making him an accountable bore.

John heaves himself off the floor, sweat pouring from his forehead, and grimaces. On the stove, the eggs he was cooking for Danny's breakfast are smoking, burnt into a dark black smudge. The House of Mystery's old wood groans, displeased with all the smoke, and a second later, the stove and counter vanish as the house creates a hole to drop them out of.

"Now that's just plain rude," John tells the house, dusting his knees. "It's not like I asked to be attacked first thing in the morning. What am I going to feed Danny now?"

The house's floor tiles shift in what John has come to learn was meant to be a shrug. The blasted thing has started copying Danny's teenage behavior, including that of his son's friends, and now seemed to enjoy rebelling against John whenever possible.

Thankfully, the house also seemed to really like Danny because one of the drawers opens, and a local Gotham breakfast dinner menu is flung at him. John catches the sheet with a sigh. He won't have to go too far when dropping Danny off at school.

"Morning, Dad," Danny greets, walking into the room wearing his Gotham Academy uniform. The dark night blue blazer, black tie, and dress trousers make his son look like the heir of the second most powerful being. It only took one glance to see that Danny came from nobility.

John knows he's a handsome bloke, but he had nothing on Clockwork's human form. That man was a temptation itself, and it looks like Danny has inherited his beauty.

John will never know how the brats in Danny's other schools could not see that. His son was perfect. John fights the urge to summon a camera. He always thought the fools always showing off the children's pictures were idiotic. Now that he's a father, he understands.

He smiles, "Morning, love. How about we go out to eat for breakfast?"

__________________________________________________________

They arrived at the dinner just as it was opening. John told Danny to order some black tea and went to the bathroom. He was only gone for a few minutes, but when he returned, he found his boy surrounded by a group of teenagers wearing the same uniform.

There was a splash of angry red on Danny's face as a girl gestured to him, obviously mocking him, and the rest of the teenagers laughed. Danny's hands were clenched in his lap, shoulders hunched, and head lowered as another teenager reached out and flickered his ear.

This one was wearing those ridiculous American leather jackets for some sport. He was also the biggest teenager there, a boy who thought himself too important for his own good.

John's jaw clenched.

Bullies.

Danny had bullies at Gotham Academy. Why can't his son just be left alone?!

John was just about to march across the room, ready and willing to fight a group of children, when Danny suddenly raised his head to yell in the face of the leather jacket git.

Alarmingly, the teenagers don't have the reaction that John expects. The large boy blushes, and the teenagers all seem to grow flustered.

No, John realizes with horror. No, they fancy him. The little rats bothering Danny are into him. Were all the other bullies just dumb kids who were terrible at flirting, too?

He is so stunned by the realization that he misses the way Danny attempts to push past the boy and somehow ends up tripping over his own two feet. He tries to catch himself on the table but the thing tilts over and their drinks fly.

Danny ends up half on the ground covered in drinks and looking bloody misaberle as the rest of the children snicker. John draws to his full height, deciding that it didn't matter what these kids felt for Danny.

His son thought they were bullying him because they made him feel terrible. So they were all going to feel the wrath of the one human who bullshits his way to being one of the mightiest spell casters in history.

"What the bloody hell are you urchins think you're doing!?" He yells. The kids all take one look at him before they scatter, rushing towards their posh cars outside.

"You alright, love?" He helps the boy to his feet, wiping some liquid with a napkin.

Danny looks small as he wipes away at his eyes. There weren't any tears; he was just taking the tea that had run down his face off. "I'm okay. Thanks, Dad."

"Do they bother you a lot?" He asks, anger growing in his chest. "We can go to your headmaster."

"No! Telling the principle will only make things worse!" Danny shouts, looking up in alarm. "Besides, they don't really bother me that much. Damian can usually scare them off. They should go for me, I can handle it; most other kids don't."

Fuck, where has he heard that phrase before?

It's alright if he hits me. I can handle it better than Mum.

John takes a breath through his nose, willing it to calm him down. This is another change that has come to be ever since he learned about Danny. Before, John would have gone off the handle, started a fight, yelled till he was red, drank, or slept through his issues, and damn the consequences.

He's got to think with a clearer head now. He owes Danny because of what his other father will do and because John wants to be the kind of father he never had.

The waitress rushes over, helping them get things set to right, and Danny apologizes for repeatedly knocking on the table. She waves away his worry, stating she saw the group and that, as someone who's worked near Gotham Acadamy for years, she knows what kind of students go there.

She also mentioned seeing what happened to the scholarship students over the years after nodding her head to Danny's pin. John hated that it was a requirement for Danny's uniform as a "show" of his accomplishments when all it did was single him out as a target.

While his son is distracted, John sends a quick text message to Bruce, informing him of the bullying Danny is going through.

Bruce responds with a single message: "It shall be handled." for once, he doesn't roll his eyes at the theatrics. A small thump on the window makes him glance up from his phone screen.

Pressed up against the glass is a blond teenage boy with wide eyes, breathing heavily and looking like a child staring at a feast of their favorite foods. John makes a face as the teenager's palms' and nose lean more into the glass, disorientating his image, but nothing could top the manic grin on his face.

John follows the boy's eyesight to where they practically devour his son, who is busy looking at the pasty bar. The waitress told him to pick anything he liked in the house to try and cheer him up from his bully.

Danny takes his sweets very seriously and studies his options with hyper-focused determination. He bends at his waist to look at the far-back brownies, and the teenager in the window lets out a cat-like growl of approval.

Alarmed, John steps in front of Danny, blocking him and his bum from view. The teenager, wearing the same uniform as Danny, and John was pretty sure he's seen this kid at Gotham High School when they had been touring the place before deciding to take Burce's offer, locks eyes with him.

John doesn't have to see into the stranger's scowl to confirm what he already knows.

That was not a human in control of the body. A demon likely took the unfortunate human for a joy ride. John raises his hand, spell crackling at his fingertips, and the scowl turns darker as the demon wearing the stolen face seers.

Just as he is about to fire off a spell, Danny's voice cuts through the tension, stepping around John with a happy "Bernard!"

His son walks up to the window before freezing and then looks back at John with the same bone-chilling expression of anger that he has only ever seen on one other being. That one being who could make the very fabrics of the universe fall apart despite not shouting or rampaging.

Danny inherited Clockwork's anger, it seemed.

"That thing is overshadowing my friend Bernard Dowd." Danny's voice is low and echoing. Somewhere behind him, John can hear the waitress gasp for air as the room's pressure increases, to Danny's displeasure. "I'm going to kill it."

John's knees shake as he fights to stay upright. "Alright. Make sure you finish murdering it before your second class. You have a chemistry test today."

Danny nods, walks outside, and grabs Bernard's arm to drag him into a dark alley. The dumb thing looked pleased, spraying something into its mouth. I thought Danny was going to snog it.

Fool.

As soon as Danny left, the pressure disappeared from the dinner, every human inside sighing relief once they could breathe better.

"What in the world was that!?" The waitress demands, her voice strained with fear.

John turns to her with a shrug. "Puberty."

Outside, a loud honk is heard as a certain teenager in a leather jacket slams his head against his steering wheel with a wail. His friends are quick to comfort him to the best of their abilities. They likely saw Danny drag the possessed human into the alleyway.

Good.

"Do you have any alcoholic drinks?" He asks the horror-stricken woman. "I need something strong."

"It's seven in the morning."

"Ah, a coffee then. Black. Strong. Anything to help me raise my boy and get through the day."

There is a long pause before she responds. "Of course, and it's on the house. Not easy being a single parent to....whatever that was."

At least she has a heart.

#dcxdpdabbles #child support #Part 5 #John is trying to be a good dad #Danny keeps getting bothered by demons and other beings for his hand #Bernard was seen having one conspiracy theory conversation with Danny and got possessed over it.#Danny is being bullied #But it's just humans not knowing what to do with their feelings for him #Bernard wakes in a alley in a cold sweat with Danny smiling down at him #crack taken seriously

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indulgentdaydream · 7 months ago

Text

I added these two together. I hope you guys don’t mind! Since I added them together I’m also making this a two parter. My first one ever!!

Comparisons Pt.1

Jason Todd x Jealous!Insecure!Fem!Reader || Angst/Fluff || Word Count: 2,488

Part 2

Warnings: not proofread as of yet. Maybe will after i post who knows

After a six hour morning shift as a dishwasher, you were ready to head home.

It was the early afternoon, your shift having ended at 12. It was sunny. Warm, but not too hot. You were still in your work clothes, simple black pants and a black t shirt, your tote bag full of belongings over your shoulder. It was nice weather for the half hour walk you had back to your apartment. Better than the weather you’ve faired before.

Jason usually picked you up after your shifts, no matter where he was, as long as he wasn’t on patrol. He never wanted you to be seen in public near the Red Hood. He didn’t want you as a target.

“It’s bad enough I come straight here after patrol some nights.” He had said once.

“I’m just that irresistible, eh?” You had smiled.

He laughed, kissing your shoulder, “Damn right, baby.”

This day, though, you knew he was busy with a certain case he was working on. One he wouldn’t tell you about. He had been hard at work on it for the last few weeks, barely able to make much time for you. You didn’t mind. He tried as much as he could, even if it ended up being a five minute phone call, or a visit in the middle of night in between beaten-up thugs.

The sun hits your face and warms your skin in a comfortable way. Your headphones blocked out the Gotham noise, making the moment more enjoyable. Your favourite music instead of honking horns, sounds of engines, distant sirens, and people yelling.

You were stuck in your own world. You began thinking of asking Jason if he wanted to take you for a ride on his bike later. If he was free. You knew it’d be hard for him to say no. He loved taking you for rides. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know that.

You turn a corner, stuck in your head. Thinking about what you were going to do when you got home. You weren’t used to the morning shift.

You start your walk down the road, passing busy storefronts. Crystal shops. Pet stores. Mostly cafés and diners. You briefly considered working as a dishwasher at one of these places instead so you didn’t have to walk as far.

Maybe you and Jason could go to a diner tonight? That was a hopeful thought. There wouldn’t be time.

You’re walking past the third outdoor seating that takes up most of the sidewalk, small bistro tables hidden from the sun by large, white, beach-style umbrellas. Nearly identical to the two others you had passed, only different colour schemes.

You stare straight ahead, the extended seating narrowing the sidewalk and making it harder for people to walk around. You’re nearly halfway past the café when a hand reaches over breaching the shaded area and entering the sunlight to gently grasp onto your wrist.

You’re already twisting, ready to pull the mace Jason had bought you (though you more-so believe stolen from Batman himself, as you could see where he had scratched out the bat symbol on the canister) out of your tote bag and aim, when your eyes land on the owner of the arm, stretched across the thin barrier separating the seating from the sidewalk.

It’s Jason. His face hidden behind sunglasses, a small frown on his lips as he looks up at you from the shade. He waits for you to slip off your headphones before speaking.

“I was waving to you,” his thumb absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand. “You didn’t see?”

“Sorry,” You smile in relief at him, stepping closer to the barricade so as not to impede the flow of foot traffic. “I was more focused on getting around.”

There was someone sitting across from him. You didn’t think much of it at first. You saw red hair. That was regular with Jason, since he was always hanging around with Roy. Or Kory.

That’s who you thought it was. Roy. Nothing different at all. You turned to greet him, a smile ready on your face.

The second you clocked the pretty face, the waist-long, flowing, shiny red hair, your smile faltered.

Artemis gave you a sincere, friendly smile, her fingers swirling her straw in her cup.

Something churned in your stomach, “Hello.”

Jason’s grip on your wrist tightened slightly once, speaking up, “Why didn’t you call me to pick you up?”

You look back to him, “You said you were busy today.”

He frowns again. Technically, he had never said that. But it was true.

“Sit with us,” Artemis said, pointing behind her. “The entrance is there. We’re almost done anyways. Jason can drive you the rest of the way.”

You nodded, sending the best smile back to Artemis that you could muster in the moment.

As you approached, Jason reached towards the empty table behind him, flipping the chair and placing it at their own table, in between him and Artemis, facing where you had just been standing.

Something in the back of your mind noted how he didn’t even stand to do it, his face still pointed towards Artemis, his eyes concealed by his shades, hiding his expression. You sit down, placing your tote bag on the ground beside on, on your right, between you and Jason.

He picked it up and moved it onto the table without a word.

“This is my girlfriend,” Jason introduces you, his hands back on the table, folded in front of him. “This is Artemis. She’s helping me with my case.”

You nod, your mouth suddenly dry as she smiles at you again, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she smiles again, stretching out plump lips to present straight, shiny teeth.

Jason’s quick goes back to talking with her about whatever they had been talking about before you had walked past, wrapping things up.

You weren’t even capable of listening at this point.

You trusted Jason. You’d always trust Jason. This was for the case and nothing more. You knew that.

Jason had never really spoke about Artemis before. He had mentioned her once, in the early months of your relationship. You had done something. He had later asked you not to, saying he had a bad memory of it from his ex. He had never even mentioned her name. You knew he didn’t like talking about her.

However, you had been out with Jason and Roy at a bar once. Roy had briefly mentioned Jason’s ex, since she was included in the story. Jason had changed the topic fast after that. Then when he’d gotten up to use to washroom, you’d asked Roy to tell you more about her.

“Just what she looks like,” You reasoned. “So I can recognize her if need be.”

Roy hesitated in telling you, but he still did.

You trusted Jason. However, you were losing trust in Roy. He had never mentioned how gorgeous this woman is.

Her skin was smooth. Not a blemish or wrinkle in sight. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help it. Her hair was perfect. Her skin flawless. On further inspection you even realized she wasn’t wearing any makeup.

She wasn’t wearing any makeup and she looked that good?

Artemis lifted her coffee cup to her lips, nodding to something Jason was saying. Nothing you understood, anyways. Even if you were listening. You caught sight of her flexed arm as she finished off the drink. She was strong. Probably worked out nearly as much as Jason, but far more slim than he was. But in a good way.

She smiled again, wide, displaying her pearly whites. You ran a tongue over your own teeth, pursing your lips quietly in thought. Yours weren’t anywhere near that.

Your arms suddenly felt itchy as you looked over Artemis’ again. You looked down. You needed to take your eyes off of her. You were being stupid. Jason had broken up with her. Jason had picked you. He had been dating you for nearly a year and a half.

Your eyes drifted to your own arms, spots of acne along biceps. No definition in sight. Your under eye bags suddenly felt like they were on broadcast. Your face felt gritty, your hand coming up to absentmindedly scratch at the break out you had along your cheek. The frizz of your own hair visible in the corner of your eyes.

You looked back up, looking out at the busy street. Jason had chosen you. Jason loved you. Jason kissed you everyday and always made sure to tell you how much he loved you.

Except in the past few weeks while he had been busy with this case.

Had he been working with her this whole time?

You glanced back down as Jason placed his hand on your knee. He always did this when you guys were out. You look back up at him. He’s leaning on the table with her other arm, straight-faced, nodding along to something Artemis was saying. Even her voice is pretty. Her tone carrying a confidence you were failing to find in the moment.

You looked back down to your own legs, Jason’s thumb moving lightly back and forth over the side of your knee. He didn’t even know he was doing it. He never did.

You looked over to Artemis’ legs, hidden underneath a pair of jeans. Even then you could see how skinny hers were. Could see that her thighs weren’t spilling off the sides of the small metal bistro chair.

Soon enough, she was standing, beginning to say her goodbyes. You swallowed thickly. She was tall too. An amazon, you remember Roy mentioning. How could you forget.

The crop top she was wearing fit her nicely, showing off her toned stomach and even dipping down at the neckline to show some cleavage.

You looked away, your arms folding across your stomach, hiding your own torso.

She smiles at Jason. You quickly look to Jason and find him smiling, too. A genuine smile. One he had yet to give you while you’d been sitting here.

You’re his girlfriend, you remind yourself. He loves you.

She smiles at you and gives her farewell. You can only nod. You watch as she leaves.

God. She was nice, too. Nicer than you had wanted to be to her.

She walks in the direction you had come from. Her hair flowing behind her, an expensive-looking purse hanging from her shoulder. Most men walking past stop to turn and look at her. She ignored them all.

That never happened to you. In fact, Jason had been the first guy to ever even ask you out. You never understood why you were his choice. Not when he was able to pull women like that.

Jason pats your knee and pulls you out of your thoughts, “Want to get anything before we go?”

You can’t even face him. She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. A fucking amazonian warrior.

You stare down at the table, catching sight of your own hands. Your nails worn from your shift at the restaurant, fingertips still wrinkled from the water.

Why the hell would he ever stay with you if she was still in his life?

“No.” You finally answer. “Thank you.”

He nodded, sighing as he fished out his wallet to pay for their coffees. He counts the bills and change, speaking with his head down, “How many times have I told you not to walk around with your headphones on?”

You lift your head to look at him, “What?”

He doesn’t look at you, his eyes still hidden by his shades. “Your headphones. You get so lost in your music you couldn’t even see me waving to get your attention.”

Your fingers curled around the edge of the table, “I was looking past you. I didn’t expect to see you—”

“I was calling your name, too. If your headphones were off then you could’ve heard me.” He tossed a twenty onto the table, leaning forward on his elbows to look at you. “Anyone could sneak up on you.”

You pursed your lips, your brows tightening at him.

Why did she get a smile and not me?

Jason gestured to your bag on the table, “Same with this. The hell you putting it on the floor for? You wouldn’t notice it was taken until far too late—”

“You don’t have to drive me,” you interrupted. “I’ll walk.”

Jason cocked his head slightly, looking genuinely curious, “Why? Car’s right over there—“

“I’ll walk.” You repeated. Firmly.

You needed the walk. You had to try and work the jealousy out of your mind before you got into it with Jason. You didn’t want to argue. Not now. Not in public.

Jason sighed, running a hand over his mouth, “Don’t be like that.” He started to stand, his keys jingling in his hand, “Come on.”

He reached to take your bag for you, a large brown envelope already in his hand. Whatever Artemis had given him.

You reached out and snatched it from his hand. You stood, throwing it over your shoulder. “I’ll walk.”

Jason stared at you for a moment, seemingly frozen in place.

He sighed through his nose, “What’s wrong?”

You took a deep breath trying to control your emotions. This was stupid. Jason had broken up with her for a reason. Had been dating you for the last year and a half for a reason.

Unfortunately, your mouth was working faster than your mind, “Don’t act like you didn’t start this.”

Jason pushed his shoulders back. He tried again, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, frustrated.

“Fine,” he stuffed his free hand in his pocket. “Just don’t be wearing your headphones while walking around.“

You were tired. Your shift had been long. You were worked up from your mind running all the comparisons between you and Artemis. It was still running them, you suppose, as otherwise you wouldn’t have said, “I guess you wouldn’t have to worry about her all the time. She can handle herself.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his first shown emotion since that smile he’d given her, “Who?” Then they shot up almost just as quickly. “Artemis? Is that was this is about?”

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment at his realization. He’d figured you out.

His shoulders tensed, “Do you really not trust me?”

The way he had said it, his tone, has made it sound like the silliest thing in the world. Now it made you feel even stupider. Of course you trusted him.

You caught people staring in the corner of your vision. You ducked your head back down.

You gripped your tote bag at the straps over your shoulder and stormed off.

You heard Jason call your name as you passed by him again, on the other side of the barrier, headed back to your apartment.

Hope you guys enjoyed!! Pt 2 will be out later this week!!

Update!! Part 2 is here!!!

Part 2

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #dc #red hood #jason todd fic #red hood x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #missy writes #ask missy #jason todd x y/n #dc x y/n #dc x fem!reader #dc x you #dc x reader #dc fic #red hood x fem!reader #red hood fic

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hexhomos · 30 days ago

Note

I love Mel through and through but I cannot find it in myself to say that her and Jayce should’ve continued romantically in season 2, or that meljayvik/melvik could ever work.

While she def did love Jayce in season 1 she did use him and viktor for political and financial gain. And her and viktor always hated each other (also viktors 100% a gay man)

Also I think even tho canonically labels and homophobia don’t exist in arcane it was def some form of heteronormativity that caused jaymel maybe like…. Classism or smth…. Idk 🙏

Mel and sevika is my favorite Mel ship because Mel should be with someone who won’t fold as easily as Jayce 😇

imho jayce/mel was always a relationship of convenience with a very clear economical stipulation of success that is planted all throughout s1 act 2 (mel literally walking out on jayce when he doesnt present his new gizmos on progress day bc she had already promised them to investors. lol. later on pressuring him to do a whole round of black market shakehands under HER inherited opera house which is used as a meeting point between all the corrupt topside politicians. do i even need to expand.) and its only made worse when the phony-ruler training stuff comes in and both ambessa and mel start competing to see who can manipulate jayce into making weapons for the empire faster. I've always said that storyline was inconsistent as fuck and it does a lot of flip flopping near the end of s1 (do you want weapons or not? it changes every scene.) but at least people cant call me crazy anymore bc they WERE grooming jayce into being the pliant triggerfinger figurehead and once that fails all the attention is shifted onto caitlyn, who's just so ready to fall for the bait.

Like this is why jayce brings up the investment stuff during the breakup scene. this is why mel is fighting with caitlyn against her mother at the end of the series as a complete reversal of her goals. This was supposed to be a Thing. Character development for this bit in specific was RUSHED AS FUCK since they wanted to put all of the political tidbits as far away from the core plot as possible but its still there when you look. The ''empathetic'' political stringpulling ambessa does with cait is one she has taught her daughter, and she perpetuates with jayce, who is ofc upset at all the bullshit when he realizes what's happened in the end. And that it didn't just impact him, but also viktor and the cities at large!

clean break was actually the best thing they could have done with both of these characters and for a second I didn't believe they'd HAVE the balls to do it, but I'm happy to be proven wrong lmfao! if jayvikmel has no haters im dead. I'm not even getting into that whole thing but it bothers me *so deeply* to see viktor defanged and made into a fogbrained centrist yes-man when his entire arc is about the fatal consequences generations of these rich oligarch games have had on the low class people of the undercity. One of the only scenes of him raging in the entire show is him showing his disgust for mel's weapon proposition, and we just forget that happened? nuh uh. not on my watch

#arcane #jayce talis #caitlyn kiramman #mel medarda #ambessa medarda #viktor arcane #jayvik #jayce league of legends #viktor league of legends #jayce lol #viktor lol #vikjayce #league of legends #hexposts #meta tag

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lalunanymph · 3 months ago

Text

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚. STOLE MY HEART (AND MY PANTIES) ♡

✧₊⁺ SUMMARY when your panties go missing like clockwork every wednesday, there's only one possible explanation...

✧₊⁺ WARNINGS fem!reader, panty stealing, jerking off, perv!caleb nation rise up, male masturbation, oral sex, pseudo-stepcest (for like, the first scenes), use of gege, use of mei mei, almost getting caught, semi-public sex, against the wall sex, closet sex, unprotected sex, nipple play, petnames (princess, pipsqueak, beautiful girl), caleb huge cock agenda, repressed emotions, angst if you squint, mdni, 18+, do let me know if i missed any warnings !!

✧₊⁺ DAWN SAYS oh my god here it is.... caleb debut we up!! this was the product of horny from the caleb gc and i have to thank everyone for fuelling this piece with sm thots (no prayers) ily all caleb fawkers <3 writing this took like 5 years from me (dying from the horny) so please enjoy and do let me know what you think <3

✧₊⁺ x/twt

Caleb knew this was wrong.

He knew with every fiber of his being that what he was doing was completely, irrevocably and utterly wrong.

And yet, he couldn't stop himself. It was like an addiction.

You were like an addiction.

It started with one missing pair.

In your defense, work had been pushing you too hard, and whatever spare time you could muster was dedicated to rotting on the couch. You would wave him off whenever he offered to do the laundry with a distracted,

"Sure. Thanks, Caleb."

He didn't mind. Of course, he didn't. If only he could use this chance to get what he wanted—your favorite pair of lacy panties.

It was a gorgeous pair. Black lace, with a little bow in the front, slightly crumpled from being wrapped around your hips all day, and if he really locked in, he swore he could feel the remnants of your body heat still pressed between the lacy crevices.

But, that wasn't the best part.

The best part was the little wet spot right on the innocuous fabric. A spot which he would press his nose into and inhale; flick out his tongue and run it along the seam, swearing he could taste your musk in his mouth.

That's funny, you commented one day, shooting him a look of confusion. Did you see where my underwear went?

And he would shrug, giving you a teasing look. "Maybe the washing machine ate it, Pipsqueak."

You frowned, wondering if he was pulling your leg. A day later, you found it crumpled and still damp in the back of the washing machine, and shrugged. Maybe Caleb forgot about it.

You had no idea how he had wrapped that delicate scrap of last around the base of his cock last night and was jerking off thinking about the face you’d make once he sank balls deep inside of you. How he had his sleep shirt stuck between his teeth, sweat bulleting down his toned chest and forehead, furiously jacking off his raw cock with the little lacy number stuffed in his fist. Imagining it was you—your cries, your moans, your sighs echoing right in his ear as you rode him.

The guilt hit him immediately after that and he tried his best to scrub his seed from your panties, crumpling it up and tossing it into the back of the washing machine like he had forgotten to take it out.

And so, the cycle continued.

Every laundry day, you'd find one pair missing, only to show up inconspicuously in the back of the washing machine. You were starting to see a pattern: this only happened when Caleb was on laundry duty.

You weren't as stupid as he thought you were. And you had to admit, the thought of Caleb taking your panties, doing God knows what he did with them, stirred a curious flicker of heat in your belly.

It was on a random Wednesday night when grandma was out for a dinner that you decided to make your move. You hid behind the pillar as you watched your childhood friend doing laundry, keeping your eyes peeled on his every movement.

Caleb looked good tonight. He had just come back from a gym session, face flushed, muscles swollen and pumped. He was shirtless, bare chest glistening, the military tag with the apple charm you gave him dangling from his neck. A pair of headphones muted him from your silent observations, letting you stalk him in peace.

Like the proverbial forbidden fruit, you couldn't keep your eyes off him. You had no idea what to make of these new... feelings... you've developed for him, but you sure as hell didn't want to waste an opportunity to catch him in the middle of your suspicions.

And, there it was. A flick of his wrist that was quicker than the speed of light thanks to his Evol—but, you caught it all the same.

Your panties flew from the laundry basket and into his sweatpants pocket, where he stuffed his fist inside to jam it down further.

You wanted to call him out, corner him and ask what he was doing with your intimate undergarments.

But, you kept quiet, letting him go about his work.

It was only at night when you gathered the courage to confront him, standing right at the front of his bedroom door. You raised your fist to knock, but to your surprise, the door was cracked ajar, a sliver of light spilling out into the darkened hallway.

Cautiously, you stepped inside his room, immediately hit with the sounds of his low grunts and moans.

With his back to you, Caleb was sitting on the edge of the bed, pumping his cock with something held tightly in his fist. Light as a cat, you slunk into the room, taking him off guard by your sudden appearance by his side.

"Ah!" He squeaked and whipped his head around, looking wildly from the wide open door to your curious expression. "How did you—what did you—why're you here?!"

You pointed at the door with a lazy flick of your wrist. "You left it open, dummy."

His huffs and groans fell on deaf ears as your gaze landed on a familiar scrap of lace in his hand. "I knew it..."

Before he could defend himself, you snatched his fist, dragging it closer to your face as you forced him to reveal the truth to you. To your surprise, he didn't resist, letting you open his clenched fist as his free hand tugged his cock back under the band of his sweatpants. The highpoints of his cheeks were dusted with pink, and honestly looked like he was about to break into tears at your next words.

"I had my suspicions all along... but, this is all I needed to know."

Caleb was breathing hard, his bare chest flushed with shame and embarrassment. He couldn’t look you in the eye, the welling guilt overflowing through his stammers and stuttering words.

"Look, I can explain—I-I... that is to say—it wasn't my intention... I didn't mean to..."

The words tangled in his mouth, losing steam once he realized there was no going back from this. A huge boundary and line had been crossed, and it was going to take more than an apology to get back into your good graces.

He ran a hand through his mused hair, licking his swollen lips. Caleb couldn't fathom what was in your gaze—whether it was disgust, anger or something else entirely.

But, what he couldn’t deny was how your eyes flickered right to the bulge straining in his pants, the dot of pre staining the front from hastily hiding his arousal from your glare.

What is this feeling inside of me? You thought as you slowly approached him, your panties fisted tightly in your hand. Why am I not yelling at him? Or, scolding him?

In fact, why were you looking at him like you wanted him to… continue?

Caleb’s expression morphed from mortification to curiosity, and he gazed at you as you approached him, arms crossed in front of your body. He opened his mouth, intending to say something, when you tossed your lace panties right on the seat of his lap.

“Go on.”

Two words. Caleb’s brain felt like it was malfunctioning.

“What… wh-what do you mean—?” He trailed off, falling mute at the fire dancing behind your eyes. He tried hard not to gape when you sat down next to him, observing him like he was a bug under a microscope, scrutiny heavy in your silence.

Whatever shred of logic he had left disappeared the second you gave him your consent. Caleb slowly tugged down his sweatpants, letting his half-hard cock spring free. He grasped the base of his girth, keeping his gaze locked on yours, gauging your reaction. Your blank face gave nothing away, and he took a deep breath, suddenly wondering if he would be able to perform under pressure… so to speak.

“Touch yourself for me… gege.”

Your sweet tone, coupled with his honorific, made his cock twitch, coming back to life. Caleb gritted his teeth, wanting to stop himself from jacking off, but unable to deny how your command was making him feel.

He was hot all over, goosebumps rising on his skin. Biting back a low moan, he picked up where he left off, his movements a bit stiffer and shy.

Surprising him, you leaned forward, wrapping your palm around his fingers, helping him move his slick fist up and down, increasing the pressure.

“Holy—slow down,” he cursed under his breath, glancing at you with burning, violet eyes. “It’s not some j-joystick, Pipsqueak—mhmph.”

Caleb thought he was hallucinating your lips on his, but when his eyes fluttered shut and your taste permeated your mouth, he was acutely aware of how close you were. You tasted like strawberries, your soft lips drawing him in deeper till he was close to drowning. Ragged gasps and breaths echoed between the space where your mouths were connected by a single strand of spit.

His cheeks were hotter than two suns, stomach doing a flip when he felt you gripping his wrist, quickening his movements.

“So, this is where all my panties went,” you murmured, gaze half-lidded and eyes dark with desire.

Caleb felt like someone had punched him right in the gut when you planted your lips on his throat, sucking your claim onto his skin. He tipped his head back to give you more access to his neck, groaning out your name.

I’m dreaming, he thought. There is no way in hell this is happening.

But, it was. You were here, right in the flesh. Close was never close enough for you when you clambered onto his lap, taking over from his flustered movements to jack him off.

“You’re disgusting, Caleb,” you purred, lips swollen from his kisses.

He gasped when you twisted your wrist, the rough material of your lace panties chafing his cock in the best way.

“Absolutely… repulsive.” You marked each word with heated puffs in the crook of his neck, running your tongue over the ridge of his jaw. “Using your mei mei’s panties like this to get yourself off…”

Caleb gasped at the rough sensation of your tongue on his neck, never expecting you to tease him this boldly.

“That’s not—” he broke off in a whine when you started to slide your thumb over his leaking head. “... shit…” he hissed, eyes rolling into the back of his skull.

“What’d you say?”

“... nothing…” Caleb exhaled shakily, knowing he could do nothing but let you have your way with him.

Circling his sensitive tip with your thumb, you teased him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought you would say.”

But, for all your bravado, the slick pooling in the pair of panties you had on now was hard to ignore. The feeling of Caleb’s hulking, muscular figure trembling underneath your smaller one injected you with a dose of cockiness.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He hissed when you tugged on his girth, using your other hand to fondle his balls.

Shit. It was one thing to jerk himself off, but another to have the woman he loved doing it.

Caleb wasn’t even phased with the realization, his mind feeling like it was floating a million miles away. Lightheaded and overcome by awe, he thought this moment might’ve been a hallucination conjured up by his desperate wishes.

You, sitting on his lap, looking absolutely delicious and depraved, licking your lips as you milked him towards the biggest orgasm of his life.

His hips moved against his volition, snapping into yours. To his surprise, he felt you grinding down on him, reciprocating his actions. The fighter pilot was holding onto his dear life to not spill all over your hands, batting your insistent digits away, breathing heavily.

“N-no, Pipsqueak, hold on—”

He thought he had finally lost it when you got onto your knees, glancing up at him with wide, doe eyes. You unwrapped your lace panties from his cock like it was a depraved gift bow, tossing the delicate scrap to the ground. Caleb’s lashes brushed his cheekbones as he took in the sight of you on your knees, lips mere inches away from his throbbing cock. In a position he had envisioned you would be in since the first time he understood the meaning of lust.

“Come on,” he murmured, brows knitted. “Stop playing—”

His protests died the second you wrapped your lips around his swollen cockhead, lapping at his precum.

“Shhhiiit,” Caleb exhaled like a deflated tire, resisting the urge to sink his fingers in your hair and fuck your mouth.

While he was taking in the glorious moment of you sucking his dick, his keen ears picked up the sounds of footsteps outside the hallway. In a flash, he twitched his fingers, and his room door went slamming shut.

“... Caleb?”

Josephine’s voice echoed from behind the door. Instead of freezing and getting off his cock like a normal person, you continued to suck him off, bobbing your head up and down his shiny, spit-soaked length. The soft gurgling of your throat taking his cock reached his heated ears and he cursed under his breath, hoping his grandmother of all people couldn’t hear your stupid stunt.

“Uh, yeah, grandma?”

He bit back a moan when he felt your tongue slide across the thick, bulging vein down the side of his cock, leaving whispery kisses over his length. He just about nearly spurted some pre right into your eye when grandma asked him, “Where’s Y/N?” and you unexpectedly deep throated him.

“A-ah, I have no idea!” His voice was higher-pitched than usual, those violet eyes boring right into yours, warning you to quit it without words.

“Caleb?” Josephine’s concern shone past the thick barrier.

His heart dropped into his stomach when he heard the door knock jangling. With a level of concentration he usually reserved for the field, not the bedroom, Caleb increased the pressure of his Evol to create a dense weight behind his door, barring her from entering.

“I don’t know where she is, Gran,” he called out, hoping he didn’t sound too strained. You breathed a laugh, mouth still full of his cock, and he shot you a glare.

“Are you alright?”

She refused to leave him alone, and Caleb cursed under his breath.

“I’m fine,” he reassured her, trying his best to sound level-headed and not like he was getting the best head of his life.

His eyes rolled back into his head, and he had to bite down on his lower lip to keep from expelling an embarrassing moan.

Clearly still unconvinced, Josephine cleared her throat. “Okay, Caleb. Goodnight.”

You giggled softly when a drop of pre hit the back of your throat, lapping up the bitter-salty taste which was clearly a sign of his growing excitement from something so taboo and wrong.

“Okay… night, Gran,” he mumbled in a strained tone.

Her footsteps shuffled away from the door, and Caleb was left with his full attention on you.

“You feisty little vixen,” he groaned, leaning back on his arms to enjoy the sight of you down the line of his body.

As you continued to suck him off, Caleb’s breathing grew more unsteady, his bravado and confidence stripped away to be lapped up by your surprisingly talented mouth.

He wanted to ask you how’d you know to suck cock so well, but he thinks the answer would upset him.

In this moment, you were his and his alone. Screw the previous guys you were with—Caleb wants to be the only one you ever think about whenever you take dick.

Your cheeky tongue expertly swirls over his weeping tip, and he stifles down a loud groan.

“You’ll be the death of me, I swear.” He threaded his fingers through your hair, tugging on it as you took him deeper down your throat.

Mouth stuffed with him, you flicked your tongue over his heavy, leaking shaft and shot him a smirk.

Caleb’s breathing grew heavier, close to his finish line.

He gritted his teeth, giving you one last chance to back off before he made a mess in your pretty mouth.

“I’m close,” he whispered, knowing Gran would be in the other room, sound asleep.

You hummed, and to his delight and mortification, massaged his taint with your knuckles.

Holy… He bit out. “S-shit. You gotta show me the guy who’s been teaching you how to do t-this,” he stammered. “I need to beat him up.”

You giggled, letting him go with a soft ‘pop’, licking your swollen lips. It didn’t take much for him to spurt all over your hands, hot and thick, as you continued to fist his length and massage his weak point at the same time.

Caleb was breathing hard like he had just finished running a marathon, his entire body limp like jelly noodles. He sagged onto the bed, grunting softly when you shifted onto his body, straddling his lap.

Looking smug like the cat who got the cream, you traced a nail down his broad chest. Caleb caught your hand before it could move down to tease his spent dick, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss onto your knuckles instead.

“I think that’s enough exploration for now, Pipsqueak,” he muttered, chest still rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. You hummed and much to his fascination and consternation, lifted your cum-coated fingers to your mouth to suck them clean absent-mindedly.

Caleb’s dick twitched at the sight, coming back to life.

His blood pumped hard with the undeniable yearning and lust he’s had to deny himself for the longest time since he’d known what love meant.

He chuckled tiredly, and without much effort, straightened up, bringing you with him. “Let’s get you cleaned up, Pipsqueak.”

Despite the fast track to this new development in your relationship, you were both still friends first. Banter, inside jokes and giggles filled the bathroom where he cleaned you up, intent to take care of you after you treated him so well.

As much as you thought things would be different, it felt like… nothing had changed at all.

Caleb didn’t speak of the night since it happened, going back to teasing smiles, hair ruffles and his brotherly brand of affection. If it weren’t for your missing panties from the laundry basket which happened every Wednesday like clockwork, you would’ve thought you hallucinated the entire ordeal with him.

You had no idea if you should confront him again. A part of you even wondered if he was embarrassed of the whole thing—if he wanted to pretend like the entire night hadn’t happened because he couldn’t stomach the thought of you. Shame and guilt paralyzed you from speaking about the whole ordeal, and you kept your head down, trying to avoid him if you could whenever he came back home after his training.

Since he was home for his summer holidays before returning back to the field, Caleb’s days back were limited. There was no rhyme or reason for you to pursue something so fragile, but a part of you couldn’t help but hope he would speak to you first.

“Y/N? Aren’t you going to finish your food?” Gran’s concerned tone broke you from your reverie and you shook your head, forcing a smile.

“I’m not hungry,” you replied, picking up your plate of untouched food and cutlery before stepping into the kitchen, almost bumping into Caleb.

“Whoa, Pipsqueak. You’re done already?”

You were never good at maintaining a poker face, so when he glanced at you, Caleb could tell something was wrong.

“Hey—”

You stepped away from him, plastering on a bright grin to hide the lapse of your emotions. “I already ate at work. I’m fine.”

Somehow, he wasn’t convinced. But, you didn’t give him a chance to ask how you were before you booked it back to your bedroom, shutting the door and locking it for extra measure. You were a grown woman now, and yet, this rejection from Caleb stung like you were a jilted teenager all over again.

Huffing, you almost forgot that tonight would be the night of his DAA Fundraiser Gala—a night where you agreed to accompany him as his plus one since Gran couldn’t make it.

It was one thing to see him again after practically finding out your childhood friend used your lacy undergarments as jerk off material, and it was another ballpark altogether to attend an event by his side, pretending to be his loving, younger sister while fighting off these strange emotions of love and heartbreak threatening to spill over.

Caleb could tell your heart wasn’t in it tonight when he pulled his bike in front of the Administration building where the Gala was in full swing.

The entire ride here, you hadn’t said a single word, your arms wrapped around him, but your mind felt like it was a million miles away.

Before you could step away from the bike and walk ahead to the front doors, Caleb caught up to you, grabbing your wrist.

“Hey. Can we… talk?”

He was stuttering, ears turning a bright red when you turned around with a little, “Hmm?”

The taller, older man hummed and hawed, rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze bounced from your eyes to the floor, an exhausting yo-yo of unspoken words and desires.

“You… look beautiful.”

You glanced down at the simple black dress you chose for tonight, noting its lack of frills or embellishments. “You’ve seen me wear this dress a thousand times. It’s nothing special.”

Your callous disregard of his praise made him wince, and Caleb shook his head. “Pipsqueak, no. That’s not what I meant. I… I think you look beautiful tonight. As in you and not the dress.”

He trailed off and you held your breath, vain hope blooming in your chest at the sudden fondness glimmering in his eyes.

“You… mean that?”

He was about to open his mouth and reply when one of his subordinates clapped him on the back, effectively shooting this tenacious moment between you and Caleb down with a shattering bark of laughter.

“Captain Xia! You finally made it in time for the raffle.”

Caleb winced at the interruption, but mustered a grin, clasping his comrade on the shoulder. “I’ll see you inside, Ethan.”

The man named Ethan tipped his head towards you, a wiry shock of ginger curls falling right into his hazel eyes. “Evening, Miss Y/N. You look beautiful.” Not one to stick around after flirting his way through half of Skyhaven, Caleb’s colleague hightailed it towards another group of girls, leaving a blank, ringing silence behind which engulfed you two.

You could tell Caleb wasn’t exactly fond of Ethan’s praise, his amethyst eyes darkening a shade deeper, glittering like an uncut gem in the heart of a dark cavern.

But, he shook off the jealousy and turned to you, extending his arm politely.

Despite the awkwardness lingering between you, you took his arm, unsure what this gesture meant.

Caleb glanced at you, a subtle furrow in his brow which belied his true emotions. He wanted to ask you how you were after the entire reveal—if you had it in your heart to forgive him. But, the words clogged in the back of his throat, lost in the oasis of his slowly fading hopes and dreams that the two of you could ever be more than just friends.

How can he entertain such a thought when you had someone like Zayne in your life? Caleb shuddered. If there was anyone who was perfect for you, it would be the dark-haired man who was your primary physician. He glanced at you throughout the whole night, watching as you danced, ate and bantered with his teammates. How effortlessly you fit into his life without so much as a hitch.

Halfway through the second song, Ethan asked you to dance with him, and you agreed, taking his hand. Caleb struggled to keep his jealousy under wraps when he noticed how you tossed your head back, laughing at something his handsome colleague said. Before he could stop himself, the fighter pilot captain stood up and squeezed his way to the dance floor, taking your hand and tugging you into his arms while you were in the middle of a twirl.

“Caleb!” You gasped, and he glanced over at Ethan, giving him a dumbfounded colleague a cheeky wink.

Ignoring your protest, Caleb smoothly guided you through a slow waltz, taking this time to hold you close. You struggled to put some distance between your bodies, worried that his colleagues would get the wrong idea.

“Caleb, we’re in public—”

“So?” He interjected teasingly. The chandelier overhead threw specks of light onto the dancefloor, fragments of rays speckling his grin. “People can say what they want, Pipsqueak. I’m here with you—that’s all that matters.”

He spun you in his arms effortlessly, reminding you again of how easily he could maneuver your body. Giddy from the champagne and restless from the feelings you were trying so hard to forget from that forbidden night you shared with each other, you spoke the first thing that came to your mind.

“Caleb, do I mean anything to you?”

His grin faltered, though his movements were smooth and sure as he gently wrapped his arm around your waist, playfully dipping you low before putting you back to your feet.

“Of course, you do. You’re my Pipsqueak,” he murmured, soft enough that you needed to move closer to hear him better.

But, Caleb could see the doubt flickering across your expression, and he quickly rectified his insensible confession.

“No. Crap—that’s not what I meant,” he stumbled over his words, the two of you coming to a stop in the middle of the dance floor. Despite the couples twirling and giggling around you, it felt like you were in a bubble, lost in each other’s presence and gazes.

“I like you,” he admitted softly, cringing when he came to the realization that the reason you were being so distant these past few days was because of him. “And I have always… I’ve loved you. Since as long as I can remember.” He had no idea where the confidence to spew these lifelong words he’s kept fast to his chest came from, but it burst forth from the dam the moment he gave his true emotions permission to overflow.

You gaped at him. Under the strobing lights, Caleb couldn’t take his eyes off you, the flickering beams highlighting just how goddamn beautiful you were.

“You… like me?”

If his feelings weren’t obvious enough, Caleb leaned forward and without a single shred of fear, he kissed you, softly and sure. Right on the lips where everyone could see.

He didn’t care if someone had spotted him basically professing his love to the woman he had grown up with. The same one who Josephine gave the impression of being his younger sister. All that was on Caleb’s mind now was tearing down your doubts of him not loving you.

Your pretty eyes fluttered wide open when he pulled away, common sense snapping you back to the reality of standing on the dance floor as he waited for you to say something.

But, you had a better idea to truly show him your love.

Grabbing his hand, you pulled him from the dance floor and towards the exit, turning back to find him grinning knowingly. The flicker of desire you ignited that night when you caught him with your panties matured into something deeper. Something more carnal.

He took the lead, knowing this building like the back of his hand. There was a hidden room on the second floor where lecturers kept their projectors, and he dragged you right into the dark spot, pushing the door open, and then pushing you against it.

Caleb’s violet eyes shone brighter than jewels as he leaned in closer, lips millimeters from yours.

“I want you…”

Intoxicated by his scent, his presence, his everything, you leaned in, too, eyes drooping close, your voice soft and hypnotizing as you whispered:

“Then, take me.”

Caleb couldn’t waste another moment anymore. His lips slammed into yours with a bruising force and he kissed you like a starved man denied the taste of honey for thousands of years. The sweetness of you coated his palette, saturating his tongue till he felt like he could drown in your flavor. You kissed him back just as ardently, desperate to feel him closer.

The inexplicable heat of your bodies pressed against each other began to fog up the windows of this tiny room, your mouths meeting in between stirring gasps and ragged moans.

His lips charted a path from your jaw to your throat, down to the dip of your collarbone. The feel of him tonguing the rise of your breasts past the edge of your dress made a spark of electricity run up your spine. They said that the most sensitive parts of a human’s body were the fingertips and tongue with 100 pressure receptors in one cubic centimeter.

You were starting to realize how correct the fact was. The smoothness of his skin under your fingertips, the texture of his tongue curling around yours, seemed to be magnified by tenfold, your entire body aroused beyond reason.

“You taste divine…”

His whisper in your ear made the hairs on the back of your neck tingle. You moaned when he backed you up against the wall, hooking your thighs around his waist.

You chuckled at his impatience, your hip bumping into an old projector.

“S-slow down,” you teased in a shaky voice, digging your heels into his lower back. “I’m not leaving.”

He grunted, using one hand to unbutton the front of his pants. “Can’t take the risk.”

The sight of him, bulging behind his gray boxers, solidified to you how real this felt. How you were about to get fucked by your oldest childhood friend in what was the DAA’s broom closet.

Despite the less than romantic setting, the sparks flying between your bodies was hard to deny. The mounting heat left you susceptible to exhaling soft moans whenever his lips smeared hasty kisses on your throat and jaw. His teeth preyed on the sensitive strip of your neck, leaving behind careless love bites, his devouring mouth bringing the blood to your skin and gifting you marks in the shape of his mouth.

It was too dark to make out much of the sight of his cock, but in the sparse scattering of light shining through the grimy windows, you could make out at least 6 inches of flaccidity which was growing into a monster waiting to impale you.

Heart in your throat and a pulse in your pussy, you eagerly lifted your hips, waiting for him to give you what you want.

“Impatient, aren’t we, Pipsqueak?” He teased, though the ragged quality of his voice belied his true need. It felt hot and stuffy inside this little room, but you didn’t mind the mugginess.

Rivulets of sweat dripped down your back and neck, beads of sweat collecting on his brow. Caleb was fighting his inner demons to just grab and ravish you without a care for anything else in this goddamn world. It wasn’t exactly the ‘roses-on-bed-scented-candles-all-night-loving’ he envisioned for his first time, but he still had to be gentle.

He was determined to not hurt you.

Using his raw strength to lift you with one arm, Caleb discreetly snuck a stroke, making sure he was ready to claim you.

Your eyes shone demurely with mushy desire, glowing softly in the lack of light. Caleb was mesmerized when he slowly unzipped your dress. Your tits were right in his face, held captive by the loving lacy grip of your bra, and he didn’t spare another second to drag them down, letting your pillowy softness overspill right into his waiting mouth.

Caleb took one hard nipple in his mouth, rolling the sensitive peak with his tongue. Your soft gasps and hitched whines were making him leak all over the dusty floors, and he growled, grazing his teeth on the stiff bud.

He loved how your hips clipped against his and groaned under his breath when you buried your fingers in his hair, tugging on the roots.

“You’re gonna pluck some strands out if you keep this up,” he grumbled when you pulled harder. The ghost of your laughter brushed the delicate shell of his ear, and Caleb felt your warm tongue trace the ridges.

Closer to you now, he could plainly hear your quiet whines. Taking his time to prep you, Caleb ignored the strain of lifting you up, enjoying the weight of your body in his grasp as he quickly stuffed his index and middle finger down his mouth.

Lubricating it well with his spit, he used the two soaked digits to pry the seat of your panties aside, before gently easing them right into your fluttering hole.

Your gasp reverberated across the room and he shushed you, planting his mouth on yours to quell your whimpers and moans.

“C-Caleb—”

Shit. You’re so tight. He murmured right into the crook of your throat, flicking his tongue out to taste your skin.

Beautiful girl, he whispered. You love this, don’t you?

The stretch of his fingers felt immaculate, pushing past the tight ring of muscle, slowly feeding you inch after inch. Caleb knew he didn’t exactly have the smallest hands, and that was partly what made this so fun.

If you struggled to take his fingers, imagine how tight you would be wrapped around his cock.

The blood rushed straight to his head, leaving him dizzy. He licked his lips, settling knuckle-deep into the depths of your cunt.

The violet-haired man groaned the same moment you mewled out his name.

Caleb… shit… you’re so deep…

He chuckled throatily. I can go deeper, baby.

Scissoring his fingers, Caleb established a rhythm which had your entire body shaking.

His mouth stays latched around your nipple, plumping it up with arousal from tender suction and licks.

Your breathy whimpers and heady sighs went straight to his neglected cock. But, Caleb didn’t care. He wanted to fully focus on you.

You like that, baby?

Devotion flooded his instincts, loving how you held onto him tighter as if he was both your anchor and the storm wrecking you apart.

You gurgled a cross between a whimper and a sigh, nodding. “It feels good, Caleb.”

You weren’t lying. The way you were squeezing down on him made Caleb feel like he was in a dream.

Yeah? He huffed, licking a strip from your jaw to your lower lip. Loving your mewled and arched your back.

Once your sweet pussy began to flutter uncontrollably, Caleb knew it was time to really claim you once and for all.

The thrill of fucking you with your clothes still on was part of the entire charm of why Caleb had fallen in love with you. Daring, bold, kind—you were the physical embodiment of all his dreams coming true.

And he never stopped reminding you of how lucky he was to have you.

“You’re so gorgeous, darling,” he cooed. The feeling of his cock sinking deep inside of you couldn't compare to his fingers.

For one, he was girthier than you expected; stretching you further than what you could handle. Caleb had to clamp a hand over your mouth to staunch your sweet moans.

Ssh. You don’t want them to find us out, don’t you?

Sweet and obedient, you hummed, shaking your head. The honeyed tenderness in his violet eyes never disappeared, the affection in them shining through with unconcealed devotion.

Your dulcet mewl of, “Caleb, please,” went straight to his dick like a lightning strike, and the last strands of his patience snapped.

Caleb wanted to take it nice and slow, but the building heat between the both of you that has been stoking for years and years on his end, displaced his common sense.

He needed to have you; he needed to claim you.

In one swift motion, Caleb lifted you by the hips, hissing in pleasure when you hastily tugged your panties down, allowing him to nudge the tip of his cock past the snug fit of your drooling pussy.

He grunted the second your sweet heat and vulnerable walls closed on him, encapsulating him in your intoxicating warmth.

Caleb felt your forehead press to his, the closeness of you spiking his heart rate. Despite the position and location he had you in, the air was clouded with intimacy.

Your soft sighs, your yielding kisses, the subdued moans you bit back so as not to give any nosy eavesdroppers an idea of how good he was indulging you, made his head spin with love and his cock twitch with lust.

You’re so big, you whispered and he almost came into your tight heat.

Caleb grunted, sweat stinging his eyes and dripping down his cheeks. “You’ll be the death of me, darling,” he murmured, losing himself in your gooey, wide doe eyes. “You feel amazing.”

Grunts, moans and puffs of heat touching each other’s lips filled the space. Your body was making him so high; no amount of stimulants or adrenaline could make his heart pound this fast.

When you pressed your lips to his, Caleb just about had a stroke of Nirvana, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, voice low and deep as he murmured, “I’m close.”

He’d been with girls before, but none of them were you. Experience couldn’t trump the novelty of tasting the first girl he had ever been in love with.

Tears pricked in your eyes, the pleasure overwhelming.

Caleb… oh… oh… shit.

He felt you tighten on him, the soft plop plop plop of your bodies meeting each other in a sloppy, heavenly embrace loud through the rush of blood flowing in his ears.

Caleb pushed his tongue right into your mouth, at the same moment you cried out his name, muffling your cries.

You were being so unbelievably good for him, not a hint of restraint, and he kept on going. Caleb dug his heels into the ground, propelling his hips in powerful surges, the fucking grip of your pussy on him so warm, wet and tight.

He has no desire of stopping, intent on pushing you over the edge. To get your body to recognize his undeniable claim on it.

You’re being so good for me, princess, he breathed hotly into your ear. I can feel you clamping down—fuck. Don’t stop.

Your nails stabbed into his shoulders, dragging down his back.

His precum mixed with your juices, dripping to the floor, your body shaking like an earthquake was ripping through it.

Please—you panted. Don’t stop.

Caleb didn’t want to. He wanted nothing more than to stuff you full of his seed, and to finally see his claim dripping white hot and thick down your thighs.

He has been dreaming of this day since he figured out how to jack himself off—the star of his filthiest fantasies finally in his arms.

Caleb dug his fingers into the plush fat of your thighs, using it as leverage to jerk you up and down his slick cock. He can tell you’re approaching your high from the scrunch in your brow, the way your lips are slack and parted.

“Caleb…”

He encouraged your release with a hearty squeeze, the feeling of his cock rutting deeper into you making your toes curl behind his back.

You tossed your head back, letting a shameless moan escape. Fingers tangling his hair, his mouth pressed to yours, you squeaked, your climax hanging on a tenacious thread.

He broke it with his lips pressed to your ear, growling at you—cum for me, princess. Give me all of your sweet cum.

Your heels stabbed into his lower back almost painfully, the sting enough to push him over the edge together with you. Caleb pumped you full of his cum, relentless in his need to conquer you.

His seed painted your walls, your breaths plucking into a whiny, high-pitched moan. If he hadn’t just blown the biggest load in his life, Caleb was sure he would’ve combust into flames when you sucked on his bottom lip needily, murmuring about how much you loved his cum inside of you.

Caleb brushed a soft kiss to your forehead, setting you back down to your feet. You wobbled and stumbled, needing to hold onto the thick trunk of his bicep to steady yourself.

The flush on your cheeks and the glassy look in your eyes was a complete telltale to what you both had done in this closet, and yet, he wanted to see you squirm even more.

Deftly, without you noticing, Caleb used his Evol to flick your skirt up, smoothly removing your panties and stuffing it into his pocket. He grinned at your aghast expression, words saccharine sweet and dubiously innocent.

“What? That’s my souvenir for the night.”

You had no energy to fight him off, not when he was helping you adjust your dress and hair. Once you were decently dressed and he made sure his pants had no wrinkles, Caleb steps out of the closet, glancing left to right before tightening his grip on your hand and leading you out.

Your earth shattering release still humming in your bones, you almost felt shy to meet his eyes under the flickering, warm lights.

But, Caleb didn’t let you marinate in your shyness for too long, squeezing your hand and shooting you a bright, reassuring grin.

“Come on, princess. Let’s get you home.”

Not Pipsqueak. Not Y/N.

But, princess.

Caleb’s princess.

You squirmed under his gaze, but not for the reasons he thought. Caleb glanced at you, curiosity shining in his eyes when you whispered softly: “Can I have my panties back?”

He grinned, cocking a brow. “And why should I do that, princess?”

You plastered on a scowl, narrowing your eyes. “Because,” you huffed, “Your stupid cum is leaking down my thighs.”

Against your wishes, you felt the faint stirrings of his Evol brushing your legs, though to someone not accustomed to it, the pressure probably felt like the slightest hint of a breeze. Using his Evol, Caleb slid it between your folds, finding your puffy pussy and to your mortification, the pressure solidified.

Safely stuffing you full of his cum.

You opened your mouth, about to comment on his audacity when you were accosted by Ethan, who’s self-assured smirk faltered the moment he saw Caleb’s hand in yours.

“Yo… isn’t she your sister?”

Caleb’s eyes darkened, and he straightened at the intrusive question, his usual jovial, light tone now deeper and authoritative.

“Do you always make it a habit to make such intrusive comments on your captain’s relationships, Lieutenant Cole?”

The second Caleb uttered his rank, Ethan sobered up and clicked his heels together, arms folded behind his back as he looked past his superior’s shoulder.

“No, sir,” Ethan said clearly, shaking his head. “Of course, not, sir.”

Caleb nodded, apparently satisfied, and tightened his grip on your hand. “Come on, princess. Let’s go home before Gran gets worried.”

The older man knew the second his back was turned, Ethan would run off and gossip with the rest of his cohort, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Let the rumor mill churn. As long as Caleb has you by his side, he wouldn’t pay a single shred of attention to the whispers.

You were noticeably shaken by the encounter with Ethan and Caleb squeezed your hand, bringing you back from your thoughts.

“Hey. You okay, Pipsqueak?”

A deep breath. “Are you sure you… want this?” Are you sure you want me?

The silent question was unspoken, yet he heard it all the same.

“Of course, I do,” he said and proving without a shadow of doubt at how serious he was for you, Caleb drew you closer, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I want this. I want you. And nothing is ever going to change my mind on this.”

Relieved and a little touched by his insistence, Caleb saw the trust spreading across your face; your belief in him strengthening.

“Come on, princess,” he murmured, voice warm as he tugged you towards his motorcycle. “Let’s head home—I’m not done with you yet.”

Clutching his hand tighter, you flashed him a carefree grin and nodded.

Home with Caleb. Home and Caleb.

Both felt incredibly right.

a/n: i need a cold shower and caleb to come home stat .... reblogs and feedback are so beloved <3

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