#midnight bite canon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rainrot4me · 10 months ago

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Return The Favor

Summary: Stumbling in on your neighbor’s chopped up body, an unlikely friendship forms between you and Toby. Striking a deal, you agree to help the killer and his friends, buying them necessary prescriptions. But when one visit turns to multiple, Toby becomes curious, finding a not so subtle love note hidden away.

Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Mentions of death, explicit description of a dismembered body, decomposition, death, gore, obsession, vomit, throwing up, blood (non-sexual), blood (sexual), vaginal fingering, degradation, biting, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, vaginal, choking, gagging, somnophilia, rough, Toby literally goes insane about you, virginity kink, first time, desperation

Words: 9.4k

A/N: This shit long asl I'm so sorry... Characters in this story are not canonical!

It’s said that when there’s a dead body nearby, your body can sense it before your brain can.

It’s almost like instinct, a survival nature programmed into your brain. It’ll start with goosebumps and chills running all over your body as if you were being watched, this uncomfortable sensation that you just can’t rationalize. Then the anxiety sets in, body aching and sweating for no apparent reason but it just knows there’s something wrong.

Finally, when you’ve finally choked it up to just being your imagination, that’s when you’ll smell it. Throat instantly closing and nostrils flaring at the putrid stench of rot and gore. It’s incomparable, no amount of food poisoning or disease compares to the sickness you feel in your stomach at the smell of a human body decomposing. Every instinct in your body pleading and begging you to get out of there, run as far away until you can’t breathe anymore.

You would know. And it seemed like the boy huddled in front of you did too.

There was no real reason for you to even be in this house in the first place, but your all-too-good heart guilted you into it. You had just come home from work, mind tired and body sleepy as you unlocked your front door, tossing your bag onto the kitchen table inside. It was well past midnight, the diner you worked at closing way later than normal, but at least you made some good tips.

Sliding into your bedroom, you changed into more comfortable clothes, tying your hair back before stepping into your kitchen. You gripped the tiny journal lying on the counter, cracking the worn pages open to where you left off, scribbling your thoughts onto the paper. It was your nightly routine, journaling things you saw or did, a coping mechanism suggested by your therapist. It wasn’t for anything intensive, just minor anxiety and self-image problems, always having negative thoughts about yourself. It helped. Glancing up, you looked through the tiny window above your sink, a clear view of your neighbor’s back porch, Mr. Higgs, an older man who made it very difficult to be friendly. He was a hateful guy, always nitpicking your choice of decorations or specific outfits he didn’t find appropriate. A real sweetheart, obviously.

But compared to his usual eight PM lights out, the living room lamp was still bright, shining directly through his open back porch door. That was odd. As long as you had known this guy, it wasn’t like him to be up this late, let alone be outside. Every instinct told you to just clean up and go to bed, his angry ass probably scooting off a raccoon or something. But you just couldn’t pass up that nagging feeling, your kindheartedness overpowering you. So, sighing, you tossed a hoodie on and slid out your back door, stepping down the porch steps into the cool grass.

You flinched as a flash of brown passed your vision, small and thin against the dark grass. Cooing, you kneeled down, holding your fingers out as Mr. Higg’s old cat, Addy, sniffed the air around you, pressing against your bare legs as she purred. The man was way too protective of his cat. Something was definitely wrong.

Standing again, Addy pranced away, meowing loudly behind you as your bare feet became wet against the midnight dew, grass sticking to your ankles as you walked, arms hugging yourself against the cold. This would probably just end with you getting told to mind your business and stomping back to bed upset, but it was the thought that counted. Gripping onto the porch rail, you stepped up his creaky wooden porch, knocking against the wooden frame of the open door.

“Mr. Higgs? Everything alright?” You called into the room, refusing to go in. There was no response, you knocked again after a couple of seconds. Still nothing. You gulped, rubbing your arms against your sides, nerves wracking you. “Okay. I’m coming in. Don’t get mad 'cause you didn’t answer me.” You called again, pressing past the door and wiping your wet feet on the welcome mat.

The house was quiet, the only light being the lamp sat on a coffee table adjacent to the old couch. All the furniture had an older look like something out of the eighties, it made you cringe. “Mr. Higgs, are you home?” You shouted down the dark hallway, all the doors shut except for one at the end which you assumed to be his room. Hugging yourself, your legs felt anxious, your mind racing with all the reasons you shouldn’t walk down there. There was no reason for it, this was all just probably some old guy who forgot to shut his door, but you just couldn’t shake the feeling.

Taking a step down the hallway, that’s when it started. Those feelings, like your body can feel shouldn’t be there. The air suddenly grew thick, a nauseating feeling setting in against your chest, pressing down like a conscious weight. But you shook it off, telling yourself it was just you scaring yourself with all of those crime shows, but you should’ve known better.

The door was cracked, moonlight from the open shades pressing against the doorframe, your hand flat against the wood as you pushed the door open. Then came the smell. It was stout, a putrid funk that wafted against the walls, souring the room. The room was dark, pupils blown wide as they fought to see, hand sliding against the wall and searching for a light switch. Your body was tense, senses on high alert against the dark, breathing ragged against the awful stench filling your senses. Your eyes were beginning to water, wondering what in the hell could be stinking this terribly, until you felt the switch, flipping it on.

Your first instinct was to throw up, throat constricting and stomach tightening, but you just couldn’t move. You were petrified by the scene in front of you. Mr. Higgs was there, at least, what you could recognize of him. His head had been cleaved from his body, intensive amounts of blood staining his beige bedsheets. His cheeks were bloated, a gnarly purple color as his veins poked against his forehead, skin wrinkled and soaked in blood as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. They were yellow now, dark veins contrasting against the orbs as puss leaked from every hole on his expressionless face. The rest of his body was scattered, chunks of muscle shredded from his arms and hands like they had been cut off, legs more or less the same. His wide stomach was completely visible, his skin swollen and dark, bloated against the same liquids spilling from his pores. The blood was the worst part. It was just everywhere. Splattered on the sheets, the nightstand, even the walls, specks reaching the roof. You were so lost in your racing thoughts, your heart pounding heavily against your chest as you gripped the door tightly, knuckles white on the frame. You could feel the cold sweat drip down your brow, utter fear chilling your body.

You wouldn’t have even noticed the tall boy standing in the corner if he hadn’t flinched, eyes wide and locked on you. He was lanky, easily taller than you and pale. No, not pale, more gray. He had curly brown hair that fell in front of his eyes, his freckled cheeks flushed against the bandages across his jaw. A pair of goggles rested amongst his curls, a dark mask covering his nose and mouth. He wore dark wash jeans loose around his hips and a heavier brown hoodie that was stained with dark blood. Oh God. The boy didn’t look much older than you despite his bruise battered skin. But he wasn’t moving, wasn’t talking, he was just watching.

His hands were behind his back, shoulders scrunched against the corner of the dark walls as you pressed back off the door frame, breathing ragged. “Who the hell are you?” You grimaced, tone coming across a lot more confident than you felt. The boy flinched, not out of fear, more like a bodily reaction. He refused to answer, eyes scanning around quickly until he pressed off the wall, sliding to the shuttered window and pinching the blinds open, scanning the night without explanation. That’s when you heard loud boots stepping up the porch steps, head spinning quickly down the hallway. “Shit.” You heard him, the boy’s voice panicked and rough, his boots stepping quickly across the hardwood and into your vicinity. Panic strained you, head spinning back quickly before your vision was filled with his arms wrapping around you, palm slapping over your mouth as he pressed you to his chest.

You tried to fight back, mumbled pleas against his hand as you shouldered his arms, your back pressed firmly against him. He was dragging you into the room, your feet dragging as you struggled, clawing his arms away but he never budged, practically unaware of the scratches you were leaving on his hands. “F- Fuckin’ quit-” He growled quietly, pressing open the small closet doors and dragging you both in, quickly shutting the door as you heard the boots grow louder down the hallway. A sliver of light shone through the crack in the door, leaving you just enough room to see the gorey scene as you pressed off of him, his muscled arms refusing to let you go.

“Toby?” A scratchy voice called into the room, the figure stepping through the door frame and into your line of sight. At his appearance, you froze completely, your body tense against the boy behind you. His arms gripped tighter, bandaged fingers digging into your cheek as he kept you quiet. He was horrifying.

This man was taller than the one in the closet with you, pasty skin a sharp contrast against his dark messy hair. His eyes were wide, pupils dark against his reddened scleras. He wore a white hoodie, dark jeans covered just the same with Mr. Higg’s blood. But the worst part, the part that made your heart pump in your throat, was his smile. It was etched in, flesh torn upwards into a mocked smile, teeth exposed from the side of his cheek. The area was mangled, seemingly unhealed as blood dried against the cut. He almost made Mr. Higgs seem not that bad.

“Twitch, come on,” He called again, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket as he strolled around the room, kicking Mr. Higg’s severed foot out of the way. “I’m gettin’ tired. This guy had some good beers and I’m tryna get back home and drink ‘em.” He snickered, turning back out of the room and back down the hallway, his loud boots stomping against the old floors. Who you presumed to be Toby didn’t let you go, arms just as tight around you as you gripping his hoodie’s sleeves tight. “Fine then! If you’re gonna play fuckin’ hide and seek then I’m leavin’ your ass here!” He called throughout the house, your body only untensing when you heard the back porch door slam shut, loud boots thunking down the porch and out of earshot.

You both waited a couple of seconds, heart thudding in your ears as arms slowly released you, palm unclasping from your mouth. Panicked, you slammed out of the closet, turning around quickly and facing Toby, back pressed against the nearest wall as you searched for something to defend yourself with. “D- Dumbass.” He grit, pressing out of the cramped closet and facing you, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie. The stench of the room pressed harder than ever, making your head dizzy as you pressed out of the room and down the hallway, Toby quick on your heels. “Whoever the fuck you are, whatever the fuck you want, I’m sure Mr. Higgs didn’t have it. Why in God’s name is he in pieces in his bedroom?” You hissed, gagging as the image replayed in your mind, turning into his kitchen and wracking the cupboards. When you found a small plastic cup, you ran water in through the sink, chugging the stout liquid down as you calmed your breathing. Toby stayed in the doorframe, crossing his arms. You probably shouldn’t have let your guard down, knowing full and well what he had just down to your neighbor, but you figured if he was going to he would have already.

“It’s none of y- your business. I don’t k- kill innocents, so you s- shoulda just stayed home, m- missy.” He growled back, stuttering through the words. You tossed the cup in the sink, the plastic clattering against the metal as you turned to face him, running your hands through your hair. “Hard to when you guys so obviously left his door open. The bastards hounded me for years, you’d think I’d be happy about his death, but not fucking like that.” You hissed, leaning back against the counter and crossing your arms, bare feet cold against the porcelain tiles. “I mean, Jesus. And I mean, thanks and all for the save back there, but how is killing him and saving me any different? It’s just favoring one innocent over another.” Toby shook his head, sliding past you and tugging a drawer open, shovelling through old receipts until he found the stack he was searching for. He passed it to you, paper crinkling as you skimmed through, old pharmacy receipts for prescription medicine.

“H- Had the old bastard bu- buying our meds. Paid h- him off and everything. Un- Until he started g- giving us coun- counterfeits, sellin’ u- us out. He h- had to pay u- up somehow…” He huffed, shoving his mask down off of his nose and under his chin, his thin lips chapped against the bandages hugging his cheeks. And of course, he was cute.

“So he gets shredded?” You had to breathe through that sentence, throat tight with nausea. Toby nodded, a small smirk crooking at the corner of his lips. You grimaced, pressing off of the counter and through to the living room, the old furniture seeming a lot less homey now. You were going home, filing a police report, and praying to God these fuckers didn’t come back to get you instead.

“U- Uh, might wa- wanna clean up, t- too,” Toby chuckled from behind you. You paused, confused as you looked around, stomach twisting as you looked down. Bloody footprints trekked through the kitchen behind you, a trail leading to your bare feet as you lift your knee, gagging at the sight of Mr. Higg’s blood coating your soles. Toby was laughing, the noise muffled against the ringing in your ears as you hunched over, stomach convulsing as you puked on the hardwood floors, your lunch from work coming back up. Head straining, you panted, wiping your lips. “Oh, s- shit, okay.” Toby hissed, sliding to your side and raising you up, hugging you close to his side. He drug you through the door, stomach still churning as you watched your footprints faintly appear beneath you, purposefully dragging them through the grass to get the blood off. You felt disgusting, giving no fight as Toby brought you to your porch steps, helping you up. He was so bipolar, angry and distasteful for one second, then cautious and endearing the next. It really was like you were dealing with a teenager.

Addy circled your ankles, her dense fur tickling your skin and making you jump, Toby gripping your arms tighter. “Oh, hi kitty.” You cooed, breathing deep as you kneeled down, scooping her up into your arms as Toby helped you up the rest of the steps. Without asking, he slid open your screen door, helping you both inside as Addy purred against your chest, Toby wary as he stared at her. You dropped her on the floor gently, Toby sliding the door shut as you hunched over your sink, cleaning your mouth and grabbing a rag for your feet. Toby still eyed Addy, fidgeting his nails as he followed her. “Ever seen a cat before? She was Mr. Higg’s.” You chuckled, cleaning the soles of your feet off and tossing the rag into the sink, still feeling unclean. Toby nodded, rubbing his arms nervously as he looked back at you, smiling awkwardly. “Yeah. Us- Used to have one. T- They kinda sc- scare me now.” Smiling, you scooped Addy up again, petting her soft fur as you brought her close to the boy, his neck twitching nervously.

How could this guy shred a man to pieces, but petting a cat was too frightening for him? You couldn’t understand. Digressing, you gripped his wrist, steadying the twitches as you placed his hand on her back, rubbing gently as Toby flinched, breathing quickly. Addy purred, unbothered by the action as he became more comfortable, fingers playing with her fur before he pulled his hand back, breathing deep.

You were too nice for your own good, too easy at giving the benefit of the doubt. Of course, you would find the redeemable traits in a murderer, heart hurting for this boy who was more or less the same as you. Groaning, you dropped Addy, crossing your arms. “Listen. What you did, it’s… For my own conscience, I can’t let it happen again.” You grit, circling your countertop and sitting on a stool, your journal tucked in front of you as you fidgeted with the pages. “If we can agree, I’ll buy your meds. I have a friend who can write me prescriptions, no questions asked. But I need you to understand, under no circumstances, are you allowed to harm me. I’ll call the cops.” Like the cops could stop these lunatics. But, you needed some type of leverage.

Toby thought quietly, eyes narrowed as he flinched uncomfortably against Addy rubbing on his shins, purring loudly. If you could hold your end, there would be no trouble, but he had to know he could rely on you. “Th- The meds aren’t for m- me. My f- friends, they need ‘em to function, m- mentally… You g- gotta realize this is- is serious.” Even stuttering his voice was stern, arms crossed as he thought, contemplating. You nodded, brushing your hair from your face as you groaned, realizing how desperately you needed to learn to set boundaries. “I can get them. But you have to keep your end, too.” You hissed back, pinching your fingers nervously. Toby smiled, crossing his heart, literally. Rolling your eyes, you nodded, rubbing your face as you groaned. What the fuck were you even doing?

“I’ll have them by the end of the week. Come later at night, cops’ll be swarming for weeks thanks to you.” Toby nodded, sliding over to the counter and gripping your journal, tearing a page out as he wrote the list of prescriptions you would need to get. It was a hefty list, some of that shit intense. “Abou- About that,” He slid his mask up over his nose, sliding the screen door open as he stepped out, chuckling. “Do- Don’t go outside. Gonna ma- make it look like a g- gas leak.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he shut the screen, sliding his hood over his head and peeling down the porch steps. Finally taking a deep breath, you stared at Addy, wondering what in the absolute fuck you were doing. Rest in hell, Mr. Higgs.

He made it look like a gas leak alright. The house was on fire in minutes, the bright orange flames lighting your room as you heard sirens in the distance, your other neighbors gathered outside their houses as you climbed into bed, groaning your displeasure. Cops and firefighters swarmed for days afterwards, investigating the area thoroughly, but never finding any remains of Mr. Higgs, his body buried somewhere far away. They eventually grew restless, the city quickly cleaned up the charred remains of the house and a new plan for construction was set in soon. It went over smoothly, no one even suspecting a thing.

The days passed slowly, nervousness building as the end of the week grew closer, feet shuffling as you stood in line at the pharmacy. You got the doctor’s notes easily, already called in and waiting to be picked up as you were handed a small paper bag, the pharmacist eyeing you closely as you hurried out. Once in your car, you rummaged the sack, eyes wide as you read the dosage instructions on each little pill bottle. You read each bottle carefully, cringing at the names of the contents: Thorazine, Prolixin, Haldol, and even Aripiprazole. They were all high-end antipsychotics, the list of treatments for schizophrenia and mania, along with treatment-resistant depression. The last bottle caught your eye, a quick Google search told you it was for tourette's. So his twitching wasn’t just nervousness, huh. Shoveling the sack into your bag, you sped home, Toby well on his way as the sun set low.

The first week was easy, Toby in and out without so much as a hello, nodding his thanks as he bolted back into the woods, eyes dark and heavy. It was easy for you, moving along with your life despite the one night of the week. You felt easier, the boy quick about his stops with some chat, but never hanging around for too long, eyes always scanning the tree line nervously.

As weeks passed, he grew more comfortable, you learned that he was quick about stopping due to his friends, their curiosity about you making him nervous about losing his ‘dealer.’ You learned to leave his meds on the counter, sometimes not even present when he would sneak in at the late hours of the night, your job taking precedence over your sleep schedule. But with all of this money being spent weekly on medicine, you had to pick up more time at work, everything being paid for out of pocket not to raise suspicion. You were sleeping more, journaling and your hobbies taking less importance until they were practically nonexistent. It was hard, your serving heart refusing to let you rest, making sure Toby got his medication is the most important thing. You were strained, to say the least.

However, surprisingly, after a couple of weeks, Toby wasn’t in a hurry to leave. He had slid in like he always did, you sat at the counter eating your dinner as you scribbled through the pages of your notebook, summing up the previous days. You were exhausted, Toby making you jump slightly as he shut the screen door, rummaging through the paper sack. “G- Got any more?” He grinned shyly, sliding his mask and goggles off and tossing them onto the counter. You nodded to the fridge, an extra container of leftovers from the diner quickly opened in front of him as he shoveled it into his mouth. “It’s better heated up,” You laughed, shutting your journal as you slid off the stool, gripping the to-go container from him and popping it into the microwave. You both sat there awkwardly, Toby kneeling down to rub Addy’s back as she appeared beneath him, soft purrs echoing. He was still nervous, never petting her for too long before standing back up, the microwave beeping. The food came out steaming, sliding open a drawer and handing him a fork, Toby continued to shovel the food into his mouth. You hissed, holding his arm as the steaming food sizzled inside his mouth, it had to be burning him. “Oh. Y- Yeah, I don’t fe- feel pain. Th’s good, tho- though.” He grinned, slurping up more of the food. He acted like he hadn’t had warm food in forever, stuffing his face and barely giving himself time to chew. You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he ate.

The stays became longer after that, his excuse being he was hungry, continuously raiding your fridge until you began to have food ready for him, prepping his meals along with your own. Thirty minutes turned to an hour, to two hours, and then eventually through the night. He would crash on your couch, Addy curled in his lap as the television blared some old movie. That was one of the only times you didn’t see him ticcing, the cat acting as an anchor against his restless body. He looked truly comfortable, using your blankets and pillows to his advantage, beginning to invite himself to stay the night after a while.

You sat at the counter, Toby snoring loudly as he laid face first into the couch pillow, scribbling into your journal. It was the one thing you had time for, having to get up early for work as the soft glow of the kitchen light lit the pages. Toby was practically pushing himself into your life, his lack of manners and curious mannerisms leading him to take initiative. You were grateful for his friendliness, giving great detail of his missions with his friends and explaining that whole situation. Even still, you were wary.

But against your better judgment, your relationship with the killer was becoming less transactional. He brought you things to make for dinner, talked with you through your mutual sleepiness, and even took care of Addy when you were too delusional after work. For lack of a better word, he was becoming a friend, showing up for more than just his medication, even sometimes forgetting the bag and having to chase him down. He was infesting your life, arriving earlier than he should and leaving later than you cared for. The end of the week was becoming optional, the screen of your porch door sliding open nearly every night of the week Toby didn’t have a mission. It was annoying but in a comforting way, like you both were becoming closer naturally despite your differences.

As you heard his snores, you groaned, rubbing your tired eyes as you began to write, letting your pencil guide on the page numbly as you wrote your thoughts. It wasn’t directed at Toby on purpose, but the further you got down the page the further your heart sank, hand fisted in your hair as you rested your elbow on the cold marble counter. “Ah, Jesus…” You grit, scribbling the final few words as you lean back, rubbing your head. The words weren’t lies, more of a hard truth you weren’t willing to accept, chalking it up that you were just tired and desperate. The words could have been about Toby, or they could have been about anyone, you didn’t really care. Sighing, you tore the page out, folding it and shoving it into the back of the book, closing the pages quickly. Sleep sounded much easier as you flipped the kitchen light off, turning the volume of the television down as you trudged upstairs to your room, giving one last glance to the snoring boy and his matching cat.

Toby knew his mishaps with you, his moral compass long forgotten the more time he spent inside your home. He told himself it was just easier, food and shelter at his disposal whenever, but he knew better. It was so much more than just picking up medicine for Tim and Brian now, it was a solid relationship, a bond that was forming in his eyes.

It had been almost four months since the unfortunate death of your neighbor, a smile creeping every time he saw the charred flecks of wood buried in the overgrown grass. You had begun to leave the back door unlocked, reasoning that someone breaking and entering would be less of a hassle than him. That was what Toby really hooked onto the most about you, your humor about everything. Despite your hardships and the emotions you had to overcome, you held a caring heart, compassion always lacing every action. He found it admirable, your humor through your busy life. And, likewise, he did feel bad for making you work so much, tired eyes always hurting his heart whenever you were around. But, it wasn’t like he could get a job, so he helped where he could, cleaning and learning to cook for your sake. He needed this medicine, for his friend’s and his own stability, even at your expense.

You were already nestled at your spot on the counter, writing your thoughts in that damn journal. You barely even looked up as he entered, diving for the fridge as he scooped up Addy with one arm, her purs a nice vibration against his shoulder. Popping the container in the microwave, he leaned in over your shoulder, trying to catch a glance at your scribbling before you shoved him off, closing the book quickly. “Ah, ah, mind yours.” You smiled, forking your own food into your mouth. “O- Oh come on, [Y/N], just a pe- peak.” He smiled back, gathering his food as he began to eat, sliding onto his familiar spot on the couch. It was routine now: where you sat, what he watched, what you both talked about. He explained his latest mission with Masky in more detail than you enjoyed, pushing your food away as you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. You both laughed throughout the night before you whisked your food into the fridge, calling your goodnights before heading upstairs.

Toby continued to watch the television, brushing Addy’s back with his bandaged fingers as he sat his empty container to the side. His curiosity nudging him, he raised up, tossing his trash before he slid to the counter, you all too confidently leaving your journal there. Slipping back onto the couch, he began to flip through the pages, listening closely for your footsteps as he read your entries, smiling as they dated all the way back to your high school years.

It seemed as though everything you thought spilt onto these lines, emotions erratic between every page as he realized just how much of a people pleaser you really were. All through your recent years, it was nothing but service, acting through the goodness of your soul until it felt sickening, fake almost. He cringed, flipping quickly through but finding nothing juicy, no deep dark secrets that he felt were interesting. Sighing, he closed the journal, standing to set it back onto the counter, until a slip of paper fell from between the pages. Smiling, Toby leaned down, arms twitching as he slid the journal back onto the counter, leaning against the marble as he flipped the paper open, reading carefully.

“Sometimes, when I think about it too hard, I get all emotional about myself. I know I put on a front, like everything I do I’m in charge of and can handle, always putting everyone around me first. But what if I wanted to be put first? I do so much for the sake of others but it never seems to be returned, never compensated for the mental strain. Well, maybe I want to. Maybe I want to be loved like I see others, rough and real. I have no clue how I even would, I can barely handle touching myself before I'm overwhelmed. But I just want someone else to take the reins, show me that I don't have to work my brain so hard and can just numb out. That's not too much to ask, right? Just someone who can love me, not some creep or one night thing, someone who cares. If I never ask for anything again, that would be it. Someone who wants me for me.”

He could have died. The brunette’s cheeks dark as he re-read the crumbled page, excitement coursing through him. In his mind, he wanted to storm upstairs and just rattle you then, showing you how good he could treat you. It was like a bomb had gone off, Toby having to pretend like him having a crush on you wasn’t achingly obvious, convincing himself he just didn’t know how to act around women. But now it was clear, his mind racing with a million wants and needs, body spasming under the excitement.

Convincing himself to leave, he slipped the note into his pocket, body buzzing with excitement as he slid out your door. He would be back, like always. But this time, he would show you what you truly needed, what only he could give you.

Like always, Toby left a note for the medication you needed to pick up, it sometimes changing week to week. Everything looked normal, the usual combination of pills reading off. But as you scanned the bottom, you groaned, shoving the paper into your pocket. Trilafon, Saphris, and… Plan B. As if your desperation for some affection couldn’t have gotten much worse, your heart twisted, a lump growing. Whether it be for some girl he was laying or a girlfriend he already had, you didn’t care, all you wanted was to get the medicine and go. Crawling into your bed sounded like a much more exciting activity than dwelling on the brunette, heart saddened in all the way you knew it shouldn’t.

To make your night even better, Toby didn’t show. It wasn’t unusual, for him sometimes not to show up for days due to extensive missions. But a part of you longed to see him, especially after today, just to help your mind with the whole morning-after pill situation. So now, instead of imagining him surrounded by his friends on a mission, you imagined him towering over a girl. Strong arms holding her, body contorting to fit against hers… You could’ve been sick, shaking your head as you ate quickly and pressed upstairs, barely petting Addy before you slinked into bed, hauling the covers over your head.

It was lonely on nights without his presence in your house. But especially tonight, thoughts racing uncontrollably to the point of tears, thick droplets streaking down your face as your chest hurt, longing for a body, any body, to hold close to yours. Maybe you really were just a transactional thing.

Toby smiled as he trekked through the familiar stretch of woods to your house, heart racing in his chest. He had it all planned out, exactly what he wanted to do, his cock already twitching in his jeans.

He hadn’t shown up tonight on purpose, hanging back at the mansion to take the best shower he could, Ben teasing him about how good he smelled as he was leaving. You had to be well in bed by now, body tired after working all day just for him. He would take care of you, showing just how grateful he was for how much you were giving up just for his friends and him. Pressing past the tree line, he smiled, pulling his hood down as all the lights in your home were out, signaling your retirement.

Pressing up the steps, he slid the screen door open quietly, careful not to alert you as he clicked it shut. Stripping his hoodie, he tossed it onto the couch, Addy purring light against the cushions. It was warm in your house, black t-shirt hugging his arms as he untucked it from his jeans, climbing up the steps, his mask and goggles quick to come off next.

He was too excited for his own good, boots stepping quietly against the old hardwood as he slinked to your door, fidgeting with the knob. A rush of your scent blew into his face, your perfume stout in your small bedroom, eyes searching around in the dark space for your bed. It wasn’t hard with your breathing, quiet snores making him smile as he leaned against your mattress, admiring your unawareness. You looked so peaceful, his bandaged fingers tracing your cheeks and brushing your hair from your face, your skin flinching under his touch. “Hi, baby…” He whispered, the pet name sounding right against his tongue as he referred to you, tugging the sheets down.

Toby always knew how nice of a body you had, you sometimes sauntering around the house with shorts and a t-shirt and making his eyes trail just a little longer than normal. But now, under his cold hands, you were even more gorgeous. You were wearing an oversized shirt, a slight tug at the fabric revealing that you only had panties on underneath, you slightly stirring as his nails brushed your skin. The brunette was excitedly jittering, kicking his boots off as he climbed onto the bed, kneeling at your curled body sound asleep. You shifted, rolling onto your back as you breathed deep, stretching your arms before settling back into yourself. Toby could have died, your legs stretching out to rest around him, his cock twitching with interest against your now visible panties. A quiet sigh breathed through your lips.

That was all the invitation he needed. Running his cold hands under your shirt, he felt your warm skin and goosebumps rising as you squirmed under them. Your brows scrunched but Toby pressed further, running his fingers along your waist and up to your tits, palming the mounds gently as he smiled. It was crazy to him just how soft your skin was, not weathered or bruised from missions or nature, perfectly smooth under his axe-calloused hands. Pushing your shirt up to your chest, he gasped at your round tits, the weight so perfect in his hands as he pinched at your nipples, rubbing the nubs gently. Toby was never very sure of anything, always brushing through life at the command of others. But the one thing he was sure about? His love for boobs, especially yours.

Nudging closer between your legs, he rested your knees on his thighs, leaning down to your chest as he popped a nipple into your mouth, sucking gently. The nub was hard against his tongue, slowly circling as he massaged the opposite one in his palm, pinching your nipple gently. That’s when you began to stir, hands sliding against the bed and unconsciously searching for the cause of your sensitivity. Lazy hands pushed against his face, soft groans echoing in the boy’s ears as he popped off your nipple and moved to the next one. Your hands fingered through his hair, tugging lightly until your eyes were beginning to flutter, your mind slowly coming alive. Toby let off your tit, kissing along your chest and licking a stripe between your tits, humming as he watched your eyes slowly blink open, confusion rocking you. He kneaded your tits gently, tugging at your nipples as you realized what was happening, eyes slowly widening as you strained to sit up against him. “Toby? Wha-” Your voice was scratchy, ridden with exhaustion as the brunette kissed up your neck to your cheeks, pushing you back down as he slotted himself flush between your legs. Slowly realizing what was happening, your cheeks flushed dark, hands pressing against his chest as you squirmed, nervously babbling as your body was still half asleep. “Lay b- back, baby… You’re so ti- tired, let me take c- care of you…” Toby sighed, running his hands back down along your skin, relishing in the way your body nervously shook under him.

You physically could not believe what was happening. This had to be a dream, some sick trick your mind was playing as you felt cold fingers hook under your panties, sliding them down. Heavy eyes wide, you grabbed his arms, clenching your thighs together against his waist. “No- No, wait- I don’t even, I mean, I’ve never-” Toby was already shushing you, gripping your wrists together and kissing your palms before pushing them back down to your sides, resuming his tug down your thighs. “I’ve go- got you. Don- Don’t gotta worry about a- a thing…” He smiled, raising your legs up to slide your panties down the rest of the way, hooking them off of your raised ankles before pulling you down closer to him, pushing your shirt over your head. “Read y- your journal, you don- don't gotta act protective, ba- baby. I know this is what y- you want…” If you weren’t already panicking, you definitely were now.

You wanted to hound him for snooping through your journal, mouth opening to tell him off. But as his fingers brushed against the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your folds, you lost all train of thought. He was watching you, eyes excited in the darkness of your room as he swiped his thumb closer again, your thighs flinching shut. “Anyone else e- ever touched here before?” He mumbled, pressing his thumb against your plump lips and tugging them open, getting a nice look at the wetness that was already forming between your folds. Shaking your head, Toby lit up, cock pushing hard against his jeans as he had to adjust his position, using both hands to pull your lips apart, sighing at how pretty your cunt was. Just something about knowing that Toby was claiming his stake on you, imprinting his touch for the first time before anyone else could, made something deep inside of him burn. It wasn’t like the brunette got much play himself, hooking up with a girl here and there, but being your first? That already made this so much better than any other girl could even try.

Sliding his fingers through your wetness, you gasped, hands clutching the pillow behind your head as he groaned, spreading your arousal across your lower abdomen. You whined, thighs begging to clench together as he purposefully slid your juices over your cunt, pressing his thumb down against your swollen clit and jolting your back off the mattress. You had only ever masturbated here and there, your body getting too overwhelmed after one orgasm and forcing you to stop, but would Toby stop? As he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them into his mouth, you doubted his restraint.

“Please be gentle…” You warned, hands planting on the mattress as you sat up, resting on your elbows as you watched Toby bring his digits back down to your cunt. He rolled his eyes playfully, tugging your folds open with his opposite hand as he pressed the tips of his fingers against your entrance, pressing in slowly. “I’ll try…” He laughed, your fingers gripping the sheets tight as you watched his fingers sink in slow, stretching your cunt uncomfortably. His index and middle fingers screwed into your tight walls gently, twisting his wrist to draw a moan from your lips, digits spreading against your gummy walls and making your entrance ache. “Just i- imagine my dick in here…” He cooed, eyes darting between your nervous face and your pretty cunt fluttering around just his fingers, barely even handling them.

Pressing his opposite thumb against your clit, he began to rub in small circles, dragging your hips further and further off of the mattress until you were practically rolling your hips against him. His fingers probed in and out of your cunt at a slow pace, just enough to make you comfortable with the unfamiliar intrusion, but his arms ached to go faster, curl his fingers until you spasmed. “Toby…” You sighed, his hands moving in time with other as he screwed his fingers inside of you, angling them just enough so they pressed against your tight walls. His name sounded like heaven against your aroused tongue, so quiet but so desperate, secretly drawling for more. “Tell me w- what you want, ba- baby…” The pet name made your face hot, your stomach fluttering as you pressed back into the pillows, running your hands down to your thighs and squeezing the flesh. “I want… more…” You sighed through your arousal, cunt clenching desperately around Toby’s cold fingers, sucking them back inside every time he drew them out. The brunette laughed, pushing his feet under him to push his hips up against your ass, your hips raising off the bed as he fingered down into you. You could feel his cock straining behind his jeans below your raised ass, twitching needily with every tug of his fingers and moan that whined from your throat. His size was overwhelming, making your heart pound as Toby began to curl his fingers, making your eyes shut quickly.

His fingers pressed so deep in your cunt, curling against your sensitive walls and making your jaw hang, beginning to press against your walls at a steady rhythm. It was like a new fire had lit under Toby, fingers screwing in at a quicker pace and making your stomach clench, face screwing into an overwhelmed feeling. His fingers pumped in, knuckles sinking in through your wetness and gripped by your gummy walls, curling his fingertips just right as he got deep. It was so intense, so rough, just a mess of slick and your wet cunt sounding through the room with every squelch as he abused your clit, swiping left and right quickly. Your thighs twitched and ached with every curl, trying to close around his hand practically fucking you into sensitivity. Your hands wrapped around his forearm quickly, begging his wrists to stop curling abusively inside of you as you tugged your nails into his skin. Toby wouldn’t, continuing to pump his fingers as he stared at your flushed face, cunt squelching embarrassingly loud. “Just a l- little more… Co- Come on…” He groaned, nudging his hips against your bare ass as his fingers milked moans and whines out of you, his fingers glistening with your arousal every time he tugged them out. He couldn’t feel you clawing at his arms, loud groans begging him to let up as your cunt clenched, molding around his thick fingers.

You could feel your orgasm rolling through you, Toby huffing as the veins in his arms popped, his shoulder muscles straining against his shirt as he watched your face carefully, picking up as your moans became louder. “Gonna come f- for me? Yeah?” He teased, clothed cock twitching against your ass, pushing your cheeks apart as he rutted against you. He curled his fingers quicker, mumbling his arousal as he watched your cunt swell around him, clit throbbing under his thumb. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, stomach tightening and forcing you to sit up, Toby was quick to let off your clit and wrap his arm around your back, holding you up as he pumped your through your cunt squelching, tightening around his digits. Your eyes rolled, teeth grit tight as he palmed your clit, slowing his pace to a slow thrust as you became undone against him. No orgasm of your own had ever compared to that, head light and chest heavy as you breathed quickly, gripping Toby’s shirt tight.

Refusing to let you go, Toby leaned in, pressing kisses against your neck and licking at your sweat, relishing in the warmth around his digits. You whined, cunt sensitive as he tugged his fingers out, his skin raw and pruned against the wetness coating his digits. Your folds were absolutely drenched, Toby spreading his fingers through your lips and pushing his sopping fingers over your warm thighs wrapped around him. “God, y- you’re so wet-” He gasped, pressing his fingertips back against your clit as he laid you back, gripping your tit. Your mind panicked, cunt flashing with sensitivity as he began to rub against your clit, swiping left and right against the rub quickly. “Toby- Stop- Toby, please-” You cried, breath catching in your throat as your stomach clenched, his fingers pressing hard as he pinched your nipples, eyes trained on your wet pussy. “You e- ever squirt before?” He smiled, transitioning fast between digging his fingers into your cunt and pulling them back out to swipe against your clit. It was nauseating, cunt crying desperately for relief as he dug nails into your tits. Gasping loudly, you gripped his arms, knees screwing tight against his sides as you cried out, hips bucking up against his hands.

Every time his fingers slipped into your entrance, they squelched loudly, fluttering around the intrusion before desperately aching as they tugged out and moved onto your clit. “Squirt li- like a whore, m- mkay? Quit fightin’.” He hissed, letting his hand off your tit and scooping under your left knee, pushing it back to open your cunt wider, spreading your legs further apart. Your head was dizzy, heart pounding as you gasped for air, panting at every push of his fingers. You were already quick to cumming, but it felt weird, not that normal clench you felt in your stomach, more of a strain against your cunt itself. You cried out, tears slipping down your cheeks as he forced your pussy against his will, ruining you.

As he swiped his fingertips down hard against your clit, your entrance clenched, mouth opening wide as you cried out, hips bucking up as you felt your cunt squirt, thighs trembling hard. There was literally nothing to compare it to, mind hazy as you sprayed onto his black shirt, his fingers digging into your entrance and pushing more juices out of your swollen folds. Toby was smiling, moaning his approval as he rubbed your clit softly, pushing the last of your orgasm out as you strained against the mattress. “Gunna fu- fuck you dumb, baby…” He growled, tugging the soaked shirt over his head and tossing it as he unzipped his jeans, tugging them down and off his legs as his cock hung heavy against your drenched cunt. You couldn’t even react, head spinning as Toby gripped your hips, pushing you onto your side as he grabbed your ankle, pulling it onto his shoulder and straddling your other.

Neck craning with excitement, he teased the tip of his swollen cock between your folds, slicking himself up with your ruined juices. “This is wh- what you wanted, is- isn’t it?” He smiled wildly, pressing his cock into your ruined cunt, groaning loudly as you swallowed him in, warmth gripping tight as he gripped your leg, other hand stable on your tit. You groaned, face turned into the pillow as he began to thrust deep, giving you no mercy as he tugged at your nipple, biting at your calf as he fucked into you. You felt so full, your body so exhausted already as stretched you further, your entrance burning against the sting of this new girth. You squeezed him so tight, cock forcing itself deeper with every tug of his hips as you began to cry, tears staining your pillowcase.

“Fuckin’ tal- alk to me, baby. Gunna mak- make me cum al- already.” He sighed, teeth chewing against the meat of your calf as he pressed your cunt wider, sweat dripping from his nose as his curls clung to his forehead. He let off your tit, left hand slinking up to grip your jaw and turn your face back to look at him, your eyes heavy as they blurred with tears. Toby looked so good right now, cheeks dark against his freckles as he towered above you, cock pushing against your gummy walls and making your mouth hang. “So pretty…” He smiled, slinking his hand down to your throat and squeezing, cock pulsing as your face tightened, mouth gasping out as he clamped tighter, refusing you air. There was something so orgasmic about cutting your airway, watching your body react as he fucked your virgin cunt, holding your life in his hands. He had to breathe deep to stop himself from cumming, his violent brain spasming out.

He pushed your ankle over his head, pulling out roughly as he rolled you onto your stomach, you gasping from the wave of air hitting your lungs. Pushing himself against your ass, Toby swore, pushing his cock back into your cunt as he pushed your back down, making you arch against him. “Just a l- little more, m’kay?” He growled, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and squeezing hard, pressing your face down into the pillow. With a new pace, he fucked down into you wildly, hand kneading your ass hard as digging his nails into your skin, little welts forming across the soft flesh. Your muffled cries sounded against the pillow, head light and static filled as you gasped for air, Toby’s cock ramming down against your g-spot. “Never s- seen a bitch so willing, so des- desperate for my dick you’d gi- give it up so easily.” He teased, growling as he let off your neck, neck sore as he leaned down, pushing your hair off your neck. Toby hadn’t felt like this before, wanting to mark you, fucking you so desperately he wanted to carve his shape deep inside. He couldn’t let you go without knowing exactly who you craved, corrupting you, ruining you, molding you to fit only him.

He licked against your shoulder, sucking onto the skin before he pressed his teeth, digging both hands into your hips as he sunk them in, groaning at the pop as your blood soaked his teeth. You were crying, screaming into the pillow as your entire body begged for him, craving him, mind going blank as your blood dripped from his chin as he licked at the wound. He pressed on, nibbling into the crook of your neck and sucking revolting hickies into your skin, marking you like an animal. “Wan- Want you to come on m- my cock, baby. I got- gotta fill you full, want y- you ruined for everyone b- but me.” He mumbled quickly, cock begging to spill inside of your warm cunt as you reached around, gripping his hair as he sunk his teeth in again, walls fluttering around him. You pulled his hair, dragging his mouth off of your neck and to your lips, smashing your swollen, tear-stained lips against his as he groaned, kissing you roughly.

You were cumming again, back arching onto Toby’s cock as you moaned into his mouth, walls holding him tight inside. He tried to move, to continue thrusting, but you were so tight all he could do was rutt his hips, begging for friction as his own seed spilt, his brows screwing tight as he came deep inside of you, warm cum seeping deep into your cunt. Your mind was blank, eyes rolled as you cried into his grasp, his nails digging into your hips until you were nearly bleeding. Your cunt squelched, milking his cock as he finally pulled from your lips, letting the last of your orgasms fizzle out before he pushed off of you, slowly tugging himself out as you whined. Looking back, his cock was soaked, glistening with your arousal and streaks of blood, Toby’s eyes wide. “Ah… Yo- You tore…” He hissed, wiping his soft cock with his shirt before pulling his boxers on, quickly trotting out of your room. You dropped your head back onto the pillow, cunt aching and body ruined as you sat in your sweat and each other’s cum, mind tired as you slowly blinked.

Toby was back in seconds, a water bottle, a wet rag, and a small bag all in tow as he climbed back onto the bed, flipping your lazy body onto your back. You smiled, sipping the water bottle slowly as he began to clean you up, gently running the warm rag between your folds and against your thighs until he was satisfied, gently rubbing your skin. Finally, he grabbed the bag, your confusion evident as he tugged out the prescription bag, rummaging for the plan b he made you buy and popping one of the pills out, handing it to you as he smiled. Your chest welled, previous anxiety dissipating until you began to tear up, taking the small pill before reaching to wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down next to you. Toby went easily, body cradling against yours as he kissed against the bruised spots on your neck, rubbing your bite mark gently.

As you began to doze, Toby mumbled something about your note, your mind too dizzy to hear the rest. The last thing you saw was a subtle flash behind your eyelids, sleep overtaking you as Toby held you close.

Morning came quickly, your body stirring, reaching for Toby but finding the bed empty. Confused, you sat up, eyes heavy and head still pounding but you pressed off the bed anyway, searching for the boy. Downstairs, on the countertop, laid his hoodie neatly folded, with a small piece of paper resting on top. Sauntering over, you reached for the top, sliding it over your head, it falling before your hips as you gripped the paper, reading its contents.

On a mission. Be back later tonight. Meanwhile, enjoy ;)

Flipping the paper over, you gasped, slapping your hand over your mouth. A small picture was taped to the back, a polaroid-type photo of the two of you cradled together, your bare body pressed against his, bruises and sweat on full display. Smiling, you tucked it into his pocket, breathing the scent of his hoodie deep as Addy circled your ankles, begging for breakfast.

Staring out your back porch door, you made sure it was unlocked, always open for him. Killer or not, that boy was yours now, accepting his every mishap the same way he did yours. For the first time in a long time, you felt wanted.

Rest in Hell, Mr. Higgs.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

7K notes · View notes

syluss-littlecrow · 4 months ago

Text

night of secrecy

the extension of Nights of Secrecy card by syluss-littlecrow ♥️

warnings: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, steamy fucking, pussy eating, overstimulation, orgasms for sure, Sylus should be a whole ass warning by himself!, extension scenes for LADS card, canon events (TO ME!!!),

a/n: I'm back!!! At least for now... Also happy new year my little crows. I apologise for the extreme inactivity. Life caught me by the throat and flung me unfortunately not into Sylus's arms 😔🙏🏻 nonetheless, I was the happiest person on earth when we finally, FINALLY, got a spicy card for Sylus!! It was... WOO. definitely needed to extend the in-between scenes because thats what I wanted and y'all are suffering with me. Love you all as always and take care ♥️ also! Please give me a while to go through my inbox!! I'll try to answer your messages as much as I can! 🙏🏻

w/c: 2.8K

“Looks like we’re on the same page on not wanting to waste time.”

His voice pulled your attention back to him. You watch the way his eyes are pretty much devouring you whole, and you've suddenly forgotten what he tastes like. And obviously, you’re ready to go in for seconds.

Your mind is slowly clouding from the desire seeping into your veins. The intensity of Sylus’s gaze on you suddenly dawn's onto you and you're briefly distracted by the snow pattering against the windows, your gaze grazing the midnight sky with snow looking like glitter, dousing the whole area outside of the warmth you're enveloped in.

Before you realise it, Sylus snaps your attention back to him.

Your eyes are back on him, and the way he's staring right into you sends you fucking shivers.

“Don't get distracted at a time like this, kitten.”

Your hands wrap around his neck and you yank him closer, not missing the way Sylus’s eyes widen for a split second before he’s tasting you again.

God, you taste so fucking good.

The kisses grow deeper and more desperate, just like the first round on the couch, but this time, Sylus wants to make sure he's the one eating you whole. You let soft moans slip out between exchanging tastes, and you hear Sylus take a deep inhale. He’s got his weight pressed onto you, but he's trying not to crush you, and you feel his thick cock pressing hard against the inner of your thigh.

Who's gonna drive who crazy first?

The silk bedding beneath you only grows warmer, completely taken over the heat both of you are emitting.

“No looking.”

His palm blocks your vision, shutting off your sight, the intensity of your other senses slowly setting ablaze.

His kisses are relentless, sprinkled with soft bites along your bottom lip. His fingers find yours on the bed, tightening your grip, his moans and breathing growing in intensity against your lips. You want to keep this sensation and him in a jar and lock it up forever.

Sylus lifts his palm off your eyes, knowing he's had his fill for now and knowing that he has you soaked and sticky, he watches you catch your breath, your eyes in a daze. The faint smear of your lipstick on his lips from ruining yours catches your attention.

Maybe you should wear red lipstick more often.

His eyes are back on you now, his breathing still heavy. Even though the lights are dim and warm, the way you have his cheeks dusted with red all the way to his ears makes your heartbeat accelerate. You've never come this close to seeing the leader of Onychinus look like this.

Your fingers trace below his left eye, and a rush of possessiveness bleeds through your words, barely a whisper.

“Am I being too greedy…if I want you to keep your eyes only on me?”

A soft chuckle comes out of Sylus. He catches your wrist before it falls and presses his lips gently against your palm before he locks his eyes with you again

“You've always had that right. Which means you could be even greedier.”

And his lips dive for your cheek, and trails down to your jawline, and down to your neck, setting the patches of skin he kisses ablaze. He bites and sucks, making sure he leaves his mark, hiding his satisfaction whenever he hears you whine his name.

You feel the warmth of his palm slide down your thigh, and it gives you goosebumps. You watch the way he kisses the top of your knee as he lets his fingers trail lower down.

“Do you want it, kitten?”

The “yes” that spills out of your lips almost instantaneously draws a smirk from Sylus. He's ready to leave your clothes in pieces. But your palm presses against his bare chest just before he gets a chance to go further, as if stopping him. Sylus pouts slightly, grabbing your thighs once more.

“You haven't changed your mind, have you? You just said yes?”

Only when he catches the playful grin you wear that he realises that you're painfully teasing him. Nonetheless, he plays along with you–spoiling you with kisses as he pulls you by your legs closer to him.

“I'm hoping your answer is still yes…”, he mutters, switching his gaze between you and your supple thighs.

“…because I'm not holding back anymore.”

His fingers hook the waistband of your panties, and he slides it off your legs, his lips curled in a satisfied smile when notices the glistening sheen of your panties.

He thinks you're so fucking pretty when you're unraveled and wet for him.

Sylus has his palms pushing your legs apart, his attention now on your soaked pussy, practically inviting him for a taste.

He presses his lips against your pussy lips, his tongue then gliding up and down, brushing against your clit, over and over. You hate how he's so perfectly precise at finding your weakest spots. But then again, you let him into your territory, and that's your problem to enjoy.

Your breathing gradually staggers, your fingers curling against the soft white locks of his hair. Sylus is forcing your hips to stay onto the bed while he fucks you with his tongue. He hears you whimpering his name every time his tongue flicks against your clit, the pleasure shooting up your spine over and over again.

“S-Sylus..”, you mumble, your pussy pulsating once more when he sucks on your clit. “Gonna cum. Fuck.”

Sylus doesn't directly respond to you, but rather, his fingers that aren't holding your lower body down circles the entrance of your soft pussy, and then he pushes his fingers in.

You gasp, your body jolts slightly from the pressure. Now you're clawing the bedsheets and your moans pour out of you freely, competing with the squelching and wet sounds coming from your cunt.

His muffled moans vibrate against your cunt, as if beckoning you to just let it all out, and it drives you over the edge topped with his fingers fucking your pussy, long enough to hit your most sensitive spots.

“Fuck, fuck! Sylus I'm cumming-”, cutting off when your orgasm hits you fucking hard in waves, the pleasure tingling down your spine, your mind in a beautiful, horny mess, only filled with Sylus.

Only when your body settles down, and your legs snap together by instinct, does Sylus slowly lift his messy lips off you, and his fingers, covered in your cream, staining the red bedding in the process.

He really pulled every single orgasm out of you–you’re left catching your breath, and trying to stop your thighs from shaking.

In a haze, you watch Sylus drop his shirt onto the floor, his fingers unbuttoning his pants impatiently. He slides both apparels off swiftly, letting his thick cock free from the fabric tightness.

You swallow at the size of him, but at the same time, you just really want him to fuck the thoughts out of you so fucking bad.

Sylus combs his hair back, the red flush on his face growing more obvious.

Then he's back to distracting you with his kisses down your thighs, slowly going back up to your lips, not forgetting to give your tits a nice squeeze.

You feel his cock brush against your pussy, drips of his precum mixing into your mess.

Your fingers stroke his hair as he deepens the kiss. You feel the cold metal of his necklace pressing onto you, and it's definitely heating up.

His lips hover near your ear.

“Could I, kitten? Please?” It almost comes off as a beg and it tickles you ears so good.

Honestly you couldn't say no even if you wanted to, you're as hungry for him as he is for you.

You push him away. For a second, Sylus is ready to cease in case you really aren't ready.

Instead, you slowly spread your legs once more in front of him, the initial shyness replaced by boldness.

“It's all for you Sylus. Didn't you say I could be greedier?”

Sylus knows he's the luckiest man in the fucking world.

He bends and pushes your legs, almost folding you into half. His cock is lined right at your pussy hole, almost teasing you. But before any words could come out of your mouth, he pushes in, filling you instantly, stretching your hole open. You take a sharp inhale, grasping Sylus’s outstretched hand, and Sylus pauses, waiting for you to adjust, even though he's only half way in.

“You're so fucking tight for me, kitten. I'm only half way in.”

You squeeze his hand in retaliation, and Sylus is amused by the pout you wear on your face.

“You're too big..” you mutter.

Sylus only chuckles, stroking your thighs in an attempt to comfort you.

He feels you relax, but he watches for your reactions, and when you give him the green light, he stretches you out with the remainder of his length, knocking the wind out of you. He leans in, mostly hovering over you so he doesn't crush you with his weight.

“You gotta let me in, sweetie. You're squeezing me a little too good here”, he teases, his lips trailing down your neck.

You're practically breathless and filled to the brim. It feels like fucking heaven–squeezing against his cock and hearing Sylus gasp when you tighten around him.

You catch his lips with your palm when he's about to bite against the skin there.

“No biting here.”

His hands release your thighs at the same time, instead, taking both your wrists above you and holding them down with one hand.

“First you want it rough, now you want it soft. Aren't you a hard one to please tonight, kitten?”

He opts for kisses instead, and it melts into your skin, once again sending shivers.

“Why won't you be a good girl and tell me what you want you really want kitten?”

The way he's calling you a good girl with a voice velvet and drizzled in honey sends you shivers.

“I'm not falling for your tricks…” you mumble.

Sylus kisses your ear and his low groans whenever he feels you tighten around him.

“Then I'll start moving, kitten.”

You nod. Unfortunately, your hands are still bound above you, so that's the most you could do.

When Sylus begins thrusting slowly in and out of you, your mind slowly goes blank. All that's flooding in is how fucking good he feels in you. Your greed grows into a bottomless hole at an exponential speed. His name spills from your lips like a mantra, and you call him over and over again, sometimes getting cut off with a moan when he hits the perfect spot.

“I love it so much when you call my name, sweetie. It sounds like heaven in my ears.” He's barely able to form his sentence when you squeeze him again, sucking him back into the endless rounds of euphoria.

“Feels good. Sylus, you feel so good,” you whimper, realising you're letting yourself get lost into his heat. You feel him smile against your skin while he presses more kisses all over your face and neck. He pulls out momentarily, leaving you empty and slightly frustrated.

The tension builds, and he releases your hands in the midst of his kisses, letting you switch positions–landing yourself above him.

Your ego swells up slightly when Sylus casts you a suprised expression. But it quickly turns into a smile.

“Ah, so what you wanted was control?”

His cock is just resting right at your ass and you feel the warm, sticky fluids slide right down to your pussy.

You watch him lick his lips.

“Unfortunately, I can't give it to you”, he says. “At least, not yet.”

His hands glide upwards to the round of your ass, pressing his cock right at your pussy hole.

You lift your hips slightly, his cock pushing into you the second time, with much less resistance thanks to how wet the both of you got. It still takes your breath away when he fills you up. You swear he's bulging in you.

Sylus’s warm hands rub circles from your hip to your waist to soothe you, despite the fact that he almost could break just from watch you take his cock right in front of him.

“That’s my good girl. You're taking all of me so well.”

Your mind is threatening to fall apart from the pleasure once more. It's dizzy and thick, building a thick haze in your mind once more.

You lift your hips and he pushes you down, his cock filling you up again.

And soon enough, you're bouncing on his cock.

His grip on your waist is firm yet tender. He guides your hips, and peppers words of encouragement while he fucks you from below.

“That's it, kitten. Like that. Just for me.”

“Feels good hm? Of course it does. Look at your pretty fucked out face.”

“Good girl–hng–! you're such a good fucking girl for me.”

You watch the ways his eyebrows knit in pleasure. At times, he’d barely have his eyes open, from the way he's doing everything in his power not to explode in you. Not yet. He wants to be a little more greedier.

Maybe just a little more. He doesn't want it to end so quickly.

After all, greed can't be satisfied. Only momentarily.

Sylus knows that all too well. And god forbid he'd keep you locked up in here with him as long as he wanted.

Shit. You're taking so much from him and it feels so fucking amazing.

Your thighs are trembling from riding Sylus. It's too much yet not enough at the same time. His thickness presses against your g-spot endlessly, and Sylus swallows hard when you throw your head back, the sweat trickling down your neck, past your tits, all the way down, while your whole body shakes in sheer pleasure, accompanied by the obscene wet noises.

“Look at me, kitten.” His voice lures you back to him, like it always does.

You make eye contact with him, your eyes so pretty and glazed, as if in a spell. Under his spell.

“How are you feeling?” His finger traces down your chin.

“So full. I’m feeling so full of you”, you manage to reply, lifting your hips, letting Sylus see the full view of the wet, creamy, sticky mess you've made on his cock. You still have the rest of him stuffed deep in you, and you're not lasting any longer.

Every thrust he pushes into you drives you closer to the edge a second time.

Sylus groans and bucks his hips when you lower yourself on him once more. At this moment, he realises nothing in this world could be better than this.

“Feels weird, Sylus”, you mutter, pulling your pussy lips to take more of him in. You're grinding slightly more desperately, the tension builds. Fuck, you're gonna cum again.

The sounds of skin slapping only grow wetter, thicker and louder. Sylus bites his lip when he feels you go tight on him, his hands now on your ass, taking a handful and guiding you to fucking him.

“Fuck. Feels so good, kitten. You're gonna cum all over me?”

Too delirious, soaked in complete pleasure and begging to chase the high, you nod.

He listens to you sob and cry when your second orgasm washes over you, fluttering all over his dick. Sylus cups your cheeks and pulls you in for another wet and messy kiss.

“Cumming too, kitten. Be a good girl and take it all.”

Unfortunately he doesn't give you a chance to answer, mostly because you have your tongue out for him to devour and he doesn't hesitate. His low moans flood through your ears, his warm and thick cum filling you up so much that it leaks out of you before he pulls out.

He hears you squeal but the sounds of wet kisses override it, and he still makes you bounce off his cock until he's satisfied with emptying everything in you.

The air is thick and still for a moment when the both of you pull away, pants filling up the room.

The both of you have red flushed on your cheeks. His grip on you loosens. Instead you move in for a kiss on his forehead, which takes him by surprise.

In the second, he realises how much he adores you.

You're his first love, and you'll be his last.

Your phone pings in the middle of the day, just as you reached home after dropping Sylus off from cleaning up his mission.

There are two messages–one from Sylus and one from…Luke and Kieran?

The message preview from Sylus stating to call him when you're home safe. But your curiousity is piqued with Luke’s message. Before you could respond, Kieran’s messages pops into the groupchat with the three of you in. You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion at first, but then you laugh it off.

Luke: Did you know if something happen to boss-man? I've never seen him glow like this before.

Kieran: holy shit he actually smiled and greeted us when he came in 🤔 is the world ending?

#l&ds sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deep space sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #l&ds smut #love and deep space smut #sylus x reader #sylus smut

1K notes · View notes

buckysm · 4 months ago

Text

2:15 am (and i miss you)

ᯓ★part one, part two,

ᯓ★ Bucky Barnes x fem ex hydra AVENGER reader

ᯓ★ part one word count 6k+

ᯓ★a/n: junie’s first post— so please show some love— i hope you like!! my inbox is always open to chat! (minor edits on jan 27) (more edits on mar 11)

ᯓ★ summary: In the quiet hours of the night, you and Bucky find solace in an unexpected friendship built on sleepless conversations and cigarettes. Slowly, walls come down, and a bond forms, kept hidden from the team. But when crisis strikes, the Avengers are shocked to discover just how deep that connection runs—and just how far you’d go for each other. (i wrote this bc of a little fantasy of being in a secret situationship with bucky and the team finding out when bucky goes feral after reader goes missing during a mission)

ᯓ★ warnings/ tags/ tropes for the whole series: canon? what canon?, haters to lovers -- except you never hated him and he just resented you-- midnight rendezvous, friends to lovers, Anxiety, angst and fluff and smut, Bucky Needs a Hug, Protective Bucky Barnes Bucky Barnes issues related to past trauma, not so platonic cuddling, slow burn, jealous Bucky Barnes Miscommunication, Mentions of torture off screen (to be added and expanded as i post part two) NOT BETA READ

These are the hands of fate/ You're my Achilles heel/ This is the golden age of something good and right and real

It started with a cigarette.

It started when he had lent you a lighter. He did not smoke, and you didn’t ask why he had one.

For him, it started months before then.

Bucky was barely coping when you joined the team. His days were muddled by an eternal haze of anger and frustration…His life had been stolen from him, along with his memories from before. He did not feel like he deserved redemption. He had done terrible things, had had horrible things done to him.

He found himself disassociating whenever he wasn’t on a mission. He did not feel real; he couldn’t joke around and feel good without betraying his past. Yet, his past was real; it happened. But Bucky couldn’t just move on, couldn’t just exist without the churning in his gut telling him he was dirty, he was dripping in sin, tarnished by the red in his ledger, filthy to the point of no return.

When he was told about you, his body turned taut with trepidation. Two sides of the same coin. You were injected with serum just like him. Made to do things and had things done to you just like him. And he had heard of you. They had called you serpiente, the serpent, the snake. You were deadly and never made a mistake. No one knew any identifying details about you, not even your gender.

And it was his mistake, thinking you were a man. He yearned to be understood; maybe he would find companionship in you.

But then, you were not a man. The first time he beheld you, he had just finished a mission for Fury. Secret and dirty, he felt right at home doing SHIELD’s grunt work.

You were walking down the compound, side to side with Black Widow. He had assumed you were one of her brethren; maybe you had trained with her, a black widow yourself. Tony Stark pranced a few paces before you.

“Soldier, good you’re here! Come meet our newest recruit!”

Your smile was disarmingly bright. Pretty. Bucky felt himself grow cold with fury. It was a smile that came easily to you. And your eyes, frustratingly soft. You seemed at peace with yourself, and he hated that.

He just stared at you in response. Eyes hard. Waiting for you to react to his lack of reciprocity. You didn’t bite his hook. You just slightly pursed your lips and took his glare in stride.

“Nice to meet you. Stark was telling me about you. All good things, so don’t worry. But I had heard about you from before—you know—we do have in common h-”

“We have nothing in common.” He snarled before walking away, fuming. How dare you? How dare you make chit-chat about the thing that haunted his life. Every waking hour, every nightmare, he was haunted by his past. And you wanted to…what? Talk about it over jokes? No. He decided you had nothing in common.

Maybe your body count was higher than his, and he chose to ignore the elephant in the room. The fact that you were a beautiful woman could be a weapon as much as it could be a vulnerability.

He hated you a bit more each time he saw you get along with the rest of the team. How dare you?

He had thought, had been so sure, that the reason he was disliked was because of his past. But that wasn’t it, was it? Because you and the black widow seemed to do just fine. Maybe he was just broken, and perhaps you had been too, but you had fixed yourself just fine. Parallel wounds, yours had healed, while he had festered like a virus. How dare you?

His despise grew with each smile, each laugh, each time you were slapped on the back.

Everything came to a head when he found you on the balcony. He had thought it was his balcony. His.

It wasn’t a balcony, more of a ledge. A floor that had been destroyed during a hulk mishap had not been fixed and did not look like it would be anytime soon.

The wind was strong. You stood at the edge, facing the precipice. You seemed so peaceful.

He stared at your profile, illuminated by the city lights. Your expression was sad. He had never seen it like that. Your lips were tight, eyes fluttered shut. Were you about to jump?

He walked toward you, deliberately moving his limbs so that you heard his footsteps.

You turned unhurriedly, your eyes opening slowly. There was a small moment where Bucky saw you, your unguarded face. He was too involved in his stupor and had not considered the possibility of it all being a facade. But months had passed, and your mask hadn’t slipped until now.

It was only a fraction of a vulnerable moment before you schooled your features. And it angered him for some reason. Seeing you so easily slip into the practiced mask. It made him like the rest, taking you at face value, not digging deeper past your pretty face, sparkling eyes, and gleaming smile. But then he was angry at himself for not looking past and you for pretending.

Before he could stop himself, before he could think, words were coming out of his mouth faster than he processed them.

“Do not do that, don’t do that.”

You sighed, your mask falling to one of disdain. You looked disappointed in Bucky, exasperated. It was a look of derision; he felt scorned, yet it was better than the fake platitudes.

“Do what? Now, what am I doing that deserves your anger?”

“Pretending,” Bucky grunted.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “So what am I supposed to do according to you, huh?” You walked away from the ledge toward him. He towered over you, head lowered to meet your defiant gaze. “Am I supposed to growl, frown, and hate myself for things I can’t control? Well, guess what? I've been there and done that! And, hey—guess again what happened. I hated it. So what if I am faking it? Maybe if I fake it hard enough, it’ll come true.”

“What’ll come true?” Bucky asked beside himself, snarling.

“Wanting to live, not letting them win. Because if I hate myself, then they win.” Your angry gaze wavered, turning sad. You looked away from him towards the city skyline. “I’ll go now, leave you alone to your self-hatred and whatever….” You started making your way to the battered elevator doors.

Bucky sighed, exasperated. “No, stay. I’m sorry.”

You had stopped walking away, your footsteps silent, but some sixth sense told him you had, in fact, paused.

He turned toward you. “I’m sorry.” He echoed.

You nodded, moving towards the ledge and sitting on it.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“Careful there, doll face.” His voice was gruff. “Don’t want you to fall off.”

You stiffened slightly, taken off guard, not for the first time tonight. The sweet nickname, coupled with his harsh voice, made heat rise to your cheeks. You decided to appear as if you took it in stride. Not wanting him to know just how much his words meant to you. Wanting to hear him call you that forever.

Because as much as you told yourself otherwise, it hurt when he brushed you off. You had looked up to him.

You didn’t have any memories of your past before the experiments or the training, so maybe it was different for him. He had a life that was taken away from him — and you were just now learning to have one.

You heard about him, heard him even. Heard his screams sometimes. Your handlers wanted to teach you what would happen when you didn’t behave.

It was clear he did not remember you. Why would he? He didn't know who you were when you passed each other in the hydra bases; that was part of your deal. No one expected a pretty girl to have a body count as high as yours.

Bucky had killed about 20-something people, important ones. You knew that Natasha had a count of about six hundred and had shared the fact with you. Bucky had been Hydra’s tool and was used only in important missions. While you…were a gun for hire, basically. A knife for hire. You used your charms on men and women alike to disarm them enough. Your kills were always up close and personal. Sometimes, you have to put yourself in compromising positions to do so. Bucky never had to.

You knew that he had to be put under a lot, had to have his brainwashed again and again, and conditioned an inhumane amount of times. His brain rebelled, and he had a life. Somewhere, deep in his subconscious, he had memories or faint encodings of a life outside.

But you were awake all of the time. You did things because there was no other option. You had to survive. You didn’t know otherwise.

You pondered in silence. And when it became too much for you, you fumbled into one of the multiple pockets on your jacket for your cigarettes. You stiffened when you remembered you had left the lighter on your bedside counter. “Damn it.”

“What’s wrong, doll.” His voice was curious, less rough. He was standing somewhere behind you. You could feel the weight of his stare.

You wanted to comment on the pet names but didn’t want him to stop, so you swallowed a snarky remark. “I forgot my lighter.”

He made his way toward you, movements swift as he sat next to you, feet dangling on the edge. You understood him now. You didn’t want him to fall.

He slid his hand onto the pockets of his cargo pants and came out with a lighter.

You smiled at him. His eyes never strayed from yours as he placed the lighter in your hand.

His eyes were beautiful, darker than usual under the low light.

You tore away from his gaze. Placing a cigarette between your lips, you cupped the lighter and flicked it on.

You took a drag of the cigarette, enjoying the burn. Enjoying the strong scent, stronger than other cigarettes. It made your head light.

Banner had made them for you after you expressed sadness about not being able to enjoy any substances.

You heard a sniff. He had noticed it, too.

You waited a second, leaving the smoke in your lungs, before exhaling. “It’s enhanced with something, Banner made it for me.”

He hummed.

“You want one?” You looked at him from the corner of your eyes, not wanting to turn your face entirely.

“Thanks for offering, doll, but I don’t smoke.”

You hummed, taking another drag. “Not even before?” your question was tentative. You wanted to see if he would open up to you.

He hummed softly. “I did, yes, once or twice. But Steve couldn’t handle the secondhand smoke, so I stopped. Little asthmatic punk…”

Silence stretched out as you enjoyed the lightheaded sensation. Your limbs loosened, and you felt free.

“D’ya miss him?” You turned fully toward him.

His eyes never strayed from the skyline as he answered, “I do. It’s different. We’ve both changed a lot. You know how it is, losing the past.”

“I don’t know, not really…” your voice was soft and resigned.

His eyes flashed to yours. You didn’t know what to do with the full weight of his stare. “What do you mean by that doll?” His brows were furrowed.

You sighed, not wanting to get into it. “It’s late…” You took out your AVENGER-sanctioned phone to check the time, 2:15 A.M.

“I’m going to sleep.” You lied. And you couldn’t stop more words from tumbling out of your mouth. Clumsy and rushed. “Same time tomorrow?”

A ghost of a smile pulled slightly at the corner of his lips. “See you doll face. Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams, Jamie.”

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Jamie. Jamie. Jamie. Jamie….

He had been too quick to judge, and now he couldn’t get you out of his thoughts. His sleep was fitful, but he was granted a reprieve from his nightmares. Dreaming instead of the multitudes in your eyes.

It was a slow day in the compound. He had a routine during slow days; he would go to his favorite training room and lose himself. The training room itself didn’t lack anything, but he had marked his territory with his glares at anyone who entered. He had achieved an unspoken ownership of that particular room.

After having you torment his dreams, however, he had to see you in person. He tried to contain himself and started his routine in the training room.

It lasted 42 minutes.

No amount of dagger throws could get him to calm down.

He found you on the tower’s common floor.

You hunched over a table, Banner at your side. Coming down was worth it.

“Well, good morning there, Sarge. It's nice of you to come out of your room and join the land of the living.”

And he immediately regretted it.

“Stark!” Two voices proclaimed in tandem. You and Steve jumped to defend him, Steve’s voice was sharp, and yours was a playful whine.

“What? I’m just saying, he’s acting like a teenager!” Stark’s voice was a defensive grumble. He tinkered with the toaster in the kitchen area.

“Oh, as opposed to you, who behaves so maturely?” The tone of your voice was playful but had a hidden bite to it. Bucky couldn’t help but appreciate it.

You turned to smile at him, and Steve turned to bicker with Tony. Bucky rolled his lips and moved to grab a mug. He poured himself a cup before walking away.

He barely heard Stark’s remark on his parting, mentally berating himself for caring about the hurt look that soured your face when he did not return your smile. He shouldn’t care; caring was dangerous. It made him vulnerable and put him in a position where he could be easily hurt again.

He had to be careful; he did not want to break down the walls he had put up protecting himself and others from himself.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You almost didn’t show up. Hurt but not surprised by his attitude.

You paced the room you had on Natasha’s floor. She was not home, leaving you to pace away your conflicting thoughts.

Your heart had skipped a beat when he showed up. He never showed up; he was a ghostly presence in the compound. Part of the team, but never there for ‘team building exercises’…

It was 2:14 when you rushed to the elevator, a pounding of indecision in your chest. You told yourself it was curiosity. You needed to know more about him, needed to figure him out - maybe then you would be able to understand why he made you want…-

The silent elevator ride left you time to think.

He is hurt, just projecting/ This could end badly/ This could end with a friendship/ He was an asshole/ He just needs a friend/ At the cost of your sanity?/

Two inner voices argued with each other in the back of your mind. You let them.

The elevator stopped, the doors slid open, and there he was. The voices went quiet as soon as your eyes fell on him.

He leaned against a thick construction support post, overlooking the city skyline, his back to you.

“Nice of you to join me, doll.”

DOLL?! Asshole, he dared to call you doll- yet acted coldly toward you in public?! You grunted angrily, mimicking his usual blasé attitude and walking to stand beside him, not looking at him.

As you stared at the beautiful Manhattan skyline, a storm of anger raged inside you.

“Is everything alright, doll?” His voice was softer, and you weren’t as angry anymore.

Yes, he hadn’t smiled at you, but what exactly made you expect that from him? Yes, he called you doll, but he was from the forties. Plus, he hadn’t smiled at you before. And-what? You had one conversation, and suddenly, you expected him to smile at you? You were delusional! This man was set in his ways and maybe bored, but it meant nothing. He was bored and lonely, and you were overthinking everything. You were new at this, at socialization. Genuine socializing. You socialized a lot for your HYDRA days, but this was new. You were used to having the upper hand and being in control.

You sighed out your exasperation, letting your tense shoulders loosen.

“Mhm…” your eyes never strayed from the city.

You stood in comfortable silence. You were an expert at working yourself into a stupor. But honestly, you were about… twenty twenty-one (you lost time during HYDRA). Yet you felt emotionally stunted- of course, you did. You never had the chance to actually develop skills people your age did.

“This feels like a dream. Like I am hallucinating being free, and I will wake up from passing out due to torture and be back in my cell…” Words tumbled out of your mouth. You were also bored and lonely. Faking your way with the others made you exhausted.

He made no response, but you could tell he understood. And that was enough. You fumbled for your cigarettes. He slid a lighter from his pocket, handing it to you wordlessly.

You took it from his hand, inhaling to light your smoke.

“You know? It’s dumb… but I sometimes feel like screaming at them… like something deep inside me yearns to scream, kick, and throw whatever is around- to get out all my pent-up energy; maybe then I can pass out from exhaustion and sleep. And yea- the novelty of being free, and being in the fucking Avengers is slowly wearing off, and I just-” you sighed, you were talking, and maybe he wasn’t even interested in hearing you whine. “And whatever, I should be grateful… it’s dumb…” You stopped yourself. Letting the chilly New York air into your lungs.

“No, doll, it’s not dumb.” He turned to look at you, forcing you to face the full weight of his gaze. He was devastatingly beautiful. Your inhale was sharp. “Don’t feel bad about being angry. It’s valid to feel this way.”

You smiled then, “Look at you, giving emotional advice. Who knew you were a big softy underneath that grouchy, grumbling exterior.”

He scoffed, but you could tell there was no real meaning behind it. Your smile grew.

His eyes lowered to your lips for a charged moment before looking back to the city. “Those who can’t do, teach-” His lips tugged slightly upwards, a glimpse of a smile.

You took a drag of your cigarette, staring unashamedly at his profile. “What do you do when you are not brooding? Like, what does one do for fun around here?”

“At two am in the morning, doll, those who aren’t sleeping…” he trailed off, a soft pink brightening his cheeks.

“Are what?” your grin was teasing.

“Are you on a mission or something?” His voice came out slightly strangled.

“Or something…” you murmured, a yawn escaping you.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“So, you really liked big band music? Kind of… classy for a guy who threw himself off buildings.”

“Hey, a man can appreciate good music and bad decisions.”

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“Stark’s fine, sometimes… but his ego’s bigger than his bank account.”

“If I had his money, I’d buy a planet and avoid people altogether.” You sighed,

“Doll, you’d get bored in two days.”

“True. I’d need at least one grump to frown at me.”

He couldn’t hide his soft grin.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“Paris. You think it’s as romantic as everyone says?”

“Probably less if I was there...”

“You’re right. You’d make it a lot more broody.”

“And you’d make it a lot more… sneaky. You’d blend into the shadows and pickpocket tourists.”

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“I could live off this forever.” You spoke around a mouthful of pizza

Bucky grimaced. “Takeout pizza? You call that food?”

“Says the man who probably ate spam for dinner in the ’40s.”

“Now, doll, it was a delicacy back then.”

“Spam’s not a delicacy in any era, Barnes.”

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“You ever thought about getting a pet? Like a dog or something?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Me, with a dog? Not sure I’d be a good influence.”

“Nah, they’d see through you.”

“I’m more of a cat person.”

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“I like the quiet moments just before dawn. No one’s around to bother you.”

“Night’s better. Everyone’s already asleep. Feels like you’re the only one left.”

“Until you realize someone like me is lurking in the dark.”

“Yeah, lucky me.”

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“So, any weird phobias? Mine’s spiders. Too many legs.”

Bucky shrugged. “Needles. After Hydra? No thanks.”

You nodded. “Yeah, makes sense. But hey, at least you could crush a spider for me. And I can catch all your bulk when you pass out at the sight of a needle.”

“Ha, ha.”

Someday, you’d get a real laugh out of him.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“If you weren’t a super soldier, what would you do?”

“Maybe a mechanic. Fixing cars, quiet life. You?”

“Bartender. People tell you their secrets. It’s like espionage, but with cocktails.”

“Sounds dangerous, doll. What’s in the drink?”

You grinned. “Depends on who’s asking.”

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“I keep getting these flashes… Steve dragged me to Coney Island, insisting I’d love it. Turns out, I hate roller coasters.”

You rolled your lips, deciding on what to say. “I don’t have any memories of before Hydra, but I dream about falling. Maybe I would love roller coasters.”

“I’ll take your word for it, doll. I prefer solid ground now.”

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“You ever feel like the idea of ‘freedom’ is just another way to trap us? Like, what do we even do with it?”

“I dunno. Still figuring that out. But it beats following orders like a puppet.”

“Yeah. I just wish freedom came with an instruction manual.”

“If it did, doll, I’d probably ignore it. I don’t need another piece of paper dictating my life..”

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You were late, and Bucky was ready to leave when he heard the elevator doors open. You held a full white plastic bag.

“Honey, I’m home, and I brought dinner!” you had a slight spring in your step; he turned toward you, and a smile of pleasure and relief made its way into his expression without his consent. Your steps faltered slightly, your brows furrowing for a moment before a beaming smile took over, your eyes twinkling. It was real, not a sarcastic grin, a smile! Your response only made his smile more pronounced -slightly, but still-.

“It’s good that you don’t smile; if you did, people would pass out on the spot.”

He couldn’t stop the small laugh coming out of his mouth. “Not you?”

“Not me, I’m made of stronger stuff.” You sat beside him, a bit farther from the ledge than usual.

He followed suit, crouching in front of you. He noted the way you eyed his legs, your inhale, and the way you had to force yourself to look away.

“I wonder what would make you pass out.” His mouth ran away from his brain.

“Maybe take me to a fancy restaurant, and then you can try to find out.”

The thought made his heart race, and he stopped thinking about it. You were joking, it was friendly— you weren’t serious.

“I could, we could go on a few dates, and you would end it when you realize I’m too old and bitter for you, doll. Maybe it’s best we stay here at 2:15 A.M., where I can lend you a light.”

Your face soured to a pout. “Well I like my men a little bit older. But if you are telling me I’m not your type, and you like old ladies, well then I can handle rejection, not the worst thing I’ve lived through.” Your smile was sarcastic, yet he could tell there was hurt behind your eyes.

“No, doll, I don’t think anyone could reject you even if they tried.”

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Your heart raced at his words, caught off guard by their raw sincerity. You weren’t used to hearing compliments, not ones that felt real. A flippant remark was on the tip of your tongue, ready to deflect the tension, but it got stuck.

“You ever think about it? You know… dating?”

He snorted softly, “Who would date me? I’ve got more shit to deal with than anyone would want to deal with.”

You grinned. “Hey, at least you’re mysterious. I’m more… ‘potential assassin.’”

“Ah, the classic ‘will she kill me on the first date’ dilemma. I can hide the metal arm, but you can’t hide the serial killer smile.”

You laughed loudly, shoving him playfully.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

It was a few weeks after the initial meeting, and meeting had become a habit, a tradition of sorts.

You gave him a shy smile when others were present, and he reciprocated with a soft look in his eyes.

He knew he was being obvious with his staring, but he couldn’t help himself from looking at you.

He leaned on the counter, eyes flicking to and from you. He beheld as you smiled and laughed with the rest. He was jealous that you weren’t bestowing a smile upon him, but he held none of the contempt from before.

He sensed an annoying presence beside him.

“Hey, creep, why don’t you join us for drinks tonight? As luck would have it, even your star-spangled ass is joining us.”

Said star-spangled ass turned to glare at Tony, his expression turning into a smile as his eyes shifted toward Bucky.

“Yeah, come with us, you’ll have fun, we promise.”

A myriad of yeahs chorused from the rest of the team, including you. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he looked at the ceiling. “Whatever.” He muttered.

“Well, that wasn’t a no!” you grinned, acknowledging him.” Your smile was so bright he couldn’t take it.

He sighed and grumbled incoherently before turning to hide his blush and walking away.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You smiled to yourself as he retreaded.

Natasha bumped your shoulders together. “He stares at you so much, I have no clue if he hates you or wants you. Maybe both!”

“Nat, don’t be rude; it’s probably because I’m new.”

She smirked, “Sure.” You hadn’t been new for a while.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

He was anxious. It took him forty minutes to place where the tight feeling in his chest was coming from. But it came down to you. It always came down to you as of late.

Steve had an arm around his shoulders and was babbling on about how much fun these rare night outs were, where everyone was present.

He didn’t know what he expected, but you weren’t talking to some guy. Enthusiastic hand gestures and a dazzling smile on your face as some random guy looked at you with an entranced smile.

He felt bile rising in his throat.

He wanted to turn around and walk away, but that would have been too obvious. So he walked in with his stomach dropping with anguish.

He was out of it, sipping a drink that Steve had handed him. His taste buds not even processing the taste of his drink.

“Yo! Joe Goldberg, knock it out with the serial killer stare.”

He felt a smack on his shoulder. He reluctantly tore his eyes away from you.

“What are you talking about?” he grumbled. Smooth. Real smooth.

Even though she was shorter than him, Natasha towered over Bucky. “I don’t know your problem, but you have to check it. It’s getting really weird.”

He felt a hand fist in his heart, tight. He downed the drink and sighed. Think Bucky. Think. “It’s not like that.” He was quiet for a few moments, formulating a response.

“Well, then explain why you keep staring at her like you want to strangle her.”

“I don’t want to— fuck.” He placed the empty glass on the table. “She’s also from Hydra.” He stated.

“Yeah, duh.” Natasha looked at him with contempt.

He needed to fix the fact that she thought he was some sort of obsessed weirdo…. He wasn’t!

“She’s so normal, happy. And she…” he trailed off.

Natasha’s expression shifted to one of understanding. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” He looked to Steve, who tried to make it seem like he wasn’t listening to the conversation.

“Bucky, you’re-” Natasha placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.

“I’m going to get another drink.”

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You could tell something was wrong when you stepped out of the elevator. He was quiet, not the usual kind, brooding. You acted like you always did, but you could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

“Bucky, is everything alright?” your voice was soft.

His reply was an irritated huff. You waited for a few moments, letting him have his space.

The night was cold, and you had worn thick cotton clothing. He wore a hoodie and pants; they looked comfortable, but the man in them did not.

You hummed and moved closer toward him. He leaned on a pillar,

“Big mission tomorrow, huh?” You shifted tactics. It wasn’t odd for him to have a quiet night, where you just sat in companionable silence. This was different, though… he was angry about something. Some insecure part of you told you he was mad at you. But there wasn’t any foundation to that, was there?

He grunted in response. He was making you anxious. You sighed loudly, deciding to smoke or go to bed. The stilted silence made you anxious, a pressure hard on your chest. You tried to exhale it out, but it wouldn’t budge.

You let him wallow next to you for a few minutes before giving up and turning to face him. You placed a soft hand on his forearm, about to say goodnight. He flinched harshly, and your heart twisted. He grimaced, eyes shifting to you before flitting away.

“Bucky, if you need, I-” Your voice had a nervous tinge, and you hated it. You were glad when he interrupted you.

“Go to sleep, doll.” His voice was sad, his face resigned.

You furrowed your brows, studying his expression. You had the urge to kiss him on the cheek for good luck but knew that you would break if he flinched away.

“Goodnight Jamie…”

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You walked away, turning your head twice to smile at him sadly. He held your gaze as the elevator doors closed, removing you from his field of vision. Taking you away from him.

“Fuck.” His voice was soft and defeated. He looked at the city skyline. His eyes glossed over. He wanted to get the self-hatred out, to hit the wall, break his knuckles, and kick at the litter on the floor. But he let it sit, let it fester in his chest. A leech that grew bigger as it fed on the churning, loathsome thoughts overwhelming his brain.

He crumpled with the ease of a paper, falling to the ground.

His limbs splayed as he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t take it. Any of it. He always told himself he was strong. He was The Winter Soldier, for fuck’s sake! And here he was, crying over a girl. But that wasn’t it. Or it wasn’t just that. It was the fact that he was too soft for all of it. And he was still somewhat human at the end of the day. He still had emotions, and he was starved for comfort. He lacked connection. And he was okay without it. Having gone so long without it, he had grown used to the lack. But then you had come into his sanctuary and ruined everything, and he let you. He felt a kinship with you. You had gone through hell and back, had walked the same road as him, and you smiled so big, your eyes twinkled so bright. He couldn’t help but fall into your orbit. Admiring you from afar.

Maybe it was better when he hated you; it was something he was used to and comfortable. He did not know what to do with all these feelings; he hadn’t felt them before, not even in the 40s. He was happy then; it was normal for him to smile. He didn’t know how to appreciate it. Yes, there was war, but there was hope, and Captain America was there to save him, but then Steve wasn’t there anymore. And any sliver of hope was quickly crushed under gleaming leather Hydra boots. He would die someday on a Hydra mission; he had made peace with that. But Steve did save him, a little too late. He wasn’t Bucky anymore and did not feel like he had any right to the mantle of Captain America’s best friend. Some parts of him still wanted that, but all of him yearned to be your Jamie.

And now bitter and traumatized, he held a flower in his calloused hands, and he didn’t know if he was worthy of it. He couldn’t breathe.

He was going to die here, and he couldn’t go in peace because he wanted to see you one more time. He couldn’t stand up, he couldn’t move; he keened in pain like a puppy.

Pathetic, get up. Voices from Hydra spewed venom, wracking through his psyche. He clenched his jaw and groaned from deep in his throat.

Broken…unworthy…killer…tainted…

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The mission was successful. The team had divided in two, his group had finished earlier.

He felt better, exhausted. It had been a long mission. He was covered in grime and blood.

It was rare for him to get to the point of exhaustion, but he had dived head-first into hand-to-hand combat, not letting up, ignoring the black widow’s knowing looks.

Freshly showered and changed into sweats, Bucky let himself fall face-first into his too-soft bed. Days of restless sleep and today’s exertion weighed his body down and pulled his mind into sweet oblivion.

He awoke with a start, looked at the clock, and sat up. 3:22 A.M.

He had stood you up. He rushed to the elevator and up to the floor. His thoughts raced with self-criticism and hatred. He breathed out a frustrated sigh, you weren’t there.

Of course, you weren’t there – he had been over an hour late.

He grumbled to himself all the way down to the common floor. His footsteps skidded to a stop when he found all the lights on and a flurry of activity.

Hawkeye typed furiously into a computer; Black Widow paced the floor, her hands fiddling with tech stuff. Steve was curled over a tablet, his hands clenched around the edge of a countertop.

Bucky stopped. The other team hadn’t come back.

“What’s wrong… where is she?” His chest felt tight.

Steve motioned at him to come near while the other two ignored him.

“Look, Bucky, I know you have some fondness for her, but I need you to calm down. She’s — uh— she’s missing…”

His ears started ringing; he didn’t hear anything after that. He took deep breaths, running his hands through his hair. It was longer, and he needed a haircut. Maybe you could cut his hair. Yeah, that sounded nice.

He stilled. Breathing in deep, “Give me the details. I’ll have her back with me within the hour.”

He didn’t recognize his voice. Black Widow and Hawkeye had turned to stare at him with wide eyes.

“Bucky, calm down, she’s alive from what we can tell, we can’t deal with y- we have to focus on finding her right now.”

“I am focused. I will find her.” His voice was gruff, and the language wasn’t English. He was reverting back…

Iron Man decided it was the best moment to walk in.

Bucky, The Winter Soldier, turned around with intent. He had some inkling of what he must have looked like, a menace— because Iron Man was opening his mouth to make some snarky remark, his jaw clenching shut, hands rising in surrender.

“Где она, где моя кукла?” Where is she? Where is my doll?.

His voice had a deadly cadence. He spoke and meant death.

“She’s okay, Wanda has her.” Black Widow had placed the radio on a table. She walked toward The Soldier slowly.

Wanda, the deadly witch, saved from Sokovia. He remembered her. She was strong. Not strong enough.

He leveled his eyes on her. “скажи мне где, или ты умрешь.” Tell me where, or die.

Her eyes grew hard. “Calm down, soldier. There is no need to threaten anyone.”

The tension was palpable then, rising… rising-

The Doors opened to you limping… being supported by the witch and the doctor.

His shoulders slumped. He shifted toward you, but something blocked his path. He looked down to see Steve’s arm pushing against his chest. The enemy’s stance was on the offense, about to attack, to keep her from him. He was about to threaten his best friend, The Captain, to move when-

“Jamie…”

His gaze flashed toward you. You pushed away from them, limping— stumbling toward him.

He met no resistance this time as he rushed softly toward you.

Your knees buckled as he wrapped his arms around you. You collapsed against him.

You sobbed softly- and he broke. His arms were strong and soft as he held you close.

He didn’t care about anything. He didn’t care how the scene looked. He didn’t care that they all knew for certain now. He loved you.

He just needed to know you were okay.

He held you as you shook, “I thought, I was back there Jamie, I- thought I wasn’t going to to see you again. I thought he would get lonely, and- and- I was going to miss you- they- they- I didn’t care about any of it. I just thought about you….” You sobbed, trying to get words out. “I got out. I killed them all, I couldn’t face it, couldn’t face not- I killed…” For you.

“Kukla…” Doll. “you’re here, you’re okay, let’s get you to the infirmary. You are hurt and bleeding…”

His voice was so, so soft —dense with remnants of Russian. His arms holding you together.

He ignored it all, ignored the dropped jaws and furrowed brows. You came first. He had shown you his vulnerability, but he first had to be sure his Achilles heel would be okay.

Please remember to leave your kind thoughts in the comments, and if you enjoyed support with reblogs, ok thanks for reading be back with part two soon!!!!

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po1sonous-l0ve · 29 days ago

Text

More! Jurdan! Headcanons!

Because they are my babiesss

-Jude always exclusively wears Cardan's shirts to bed. Specifically the silky one.

-Cardan keeps trying to convince her to sleep naked, like him. (Also have we collectively forgotten that he canonically does that)

-Jude is an early riser and a morning person.

-Cardan refuses to get up until midnight. (Remember that the fae are nocturnal.)

-Jude has to genuinely drag him out of bed whenever something important happens.

-Whereas Cardan always tries to keep her in bed with him (he usually succeeds)

-Jude takes up baking in her spare time because Cardan made her get a hobby that doesn't involve stabbing people.

-They like to have little playfights.

-E.g Cardan will pin her down to do her makeup.

-Or Jude will come up behind him and put him in a headlock.

-Cardan never sneaks up behind her though.

-He also knows where she keeps all of her weapons on her person.

-If he needs a weapon and he didn't bring one he just casually grabs one from like her pockets or the folds of her dress or something like that.

-Cardan is a biter. And I don't just mean in bed.

-Just like in general. He nibbles her ears or just like casually bites her shoulder.

-They go riding together through the milkwood.

-And take long walks through the gardens together.

-Jude teases Cardan about all the things he did to her at school.

-"Hey, remember that one time you tried to drown me?"

-He feels incredibly bad.

#tfota #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #jurdan #jude x cardan #jude headcanons #cardan headcanons #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing

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yuansie · 11 days ago

Text

(2) even when there was rain, sunshine came

pairing. caleb x fem! childhood friend! non mc! reader (x childhood bsf! zayne)

synopsis. caleb planted a seed in your heart when you were both young, nurturing it without meaning to until it sprouted and blossomed. it shouldn't have grown this much, not when you knew you could never have him.

genres/aus. angst, fluff, f2l, unrequited love, childhood f2l

warnings. slight ooc caleb (i have not read homecoming or wtv that chapter is called BC my laptop died on me. but maybe ill get to it today since i got it on my bros pc HELP), NOT canon compliant oops (no higher being placing a curse on zayne, no experimentation done on mc and caleb bc josephine is a good person this time BYEEEE), mentions/descriptions of crying, a kiss YUCK, caleb himself is a warning tbh. if there's anything i'm missing, please let me know!

rating. sfw but make it lowk very angsty but fluffy ish at the same time.

wc. 4 k

a/n. not proof read, we die like redacted i mean what who said that. posts this rn bc i dont want to wait till midnight to post haha #lolsies also, i feel like the mood just progressively gets worse for yn 😭 like i give yn brief happiness and then BAM im like her opp, someone needs to take me out bc why am i doing this to her 💔 sorry yn i swear i love you 💔 happy early update bc im going to be busy w hw this weekend ❤️‍🔥

winter blues seep into your skin when you’re thirteen and alone during your winter break.

mc, caleb, and granny josephine went on a vacation outside linkon city, your mom has been working night shifts at the hospital as of late, your dad is in skyhaven, and zayne won’t be coming back this break.

in fact, he hasn’t once visited during his breaks from school since he started college.

you sit at the living room’s window, watching outside the glass as white specks fall from the sky.

snow.

despite being inside the comfort of your home, shielded from the biting cold of winter, you feel like your whole body is frozen over.

it’s so cold.

and caleb isn’t there to keep you warm.

a soft chime comes from your phone that sits on the empty space of the large couch you’re on. the phone was a gift from your dad after you told him that you’d like to talk to him and zayne more often. the screen turns on, and you stare at the notification.

zayne li: Hello.

the screen dims for a second before brightening again.

zayne li: I would like to say something.

there’s a knock on the door.

you reach out, your fingers wrapping around the device. you’re getting ready to type a response when another knock is heard, then another one.

and another one.

with a sigh, you place it back down and head towards the front door. you don't even bother to check through the peephole beforehand and just open it.

“you’re here.” you gape at the older boy standing on your porch. zayne is taller now, his hair the slightest bit longer, his features a little sharper, but his hazel gaze is still warm and gentle. he stands in front of you, a suitcase to his left, and he wears a scarf around his neck along with a black trench coat.

the corners of his lips are curved upwards into a small smile. “i’m here.”

you want to hug him, but instead you open the door wider. he walks in and his body acts like clockwork whenever he’s over: he takes off his shoes and places them neatly next to yours, he hangs his coat if he has one with him at the moment, he takes a step forwards and turns around, always looking back at you to follow.

you fling yourself at him, and he catches you with ease. the tension you held melts away with his touch. your feet are in the air as he holds you tightly, and it makes you laugh. he was always taller than you, but not this tall. zayne’s cheek is next to yours, and you’re suddenly aware that despite standing outside in the biting cold, he’s actually quite…

“you’re—”

“warm.” you mumble, nuzzling closer to his neck.

zayne hums. “so are you.” you feel his smile.

like always—before he left—you take him to your room where you both end up talking and talking until the sky is dark, both of you on your bed.

“zayne, you still haven't made any friends?”

zayne looks away from you. “have you made any friends?”

you stay silent, and he continues with a quick glance at you. “he’s still distant?”

“yes…”

caleb’s been distant ever since the start of eighth grade.

you no longer study for tests with him because she needs help, and it's not like you need to study anyways because you’re so smart. while there is truth in his words, you always study with him because you like being with him.

you’re alone at lunch because he wants to keep her company—not that she needs it since she already has a group of friends.

honestly, you saw this coming from a mile away. the perfect excuse came in the shape and form of mc. you knew he regretted it, knew that he would act like nothing happened while slowly distancing himself from you.

it was the only solution he had after what happened that night.

in the beginning of june, you come to realize that there’s been a weird tension since you gifted each other the necklace. you don't know how you didn’t notice it sooner: the way he hovers closer to you, how his hands ghost your skin when he brushes against you, how his eyes linger on you for a beat longer than usual.

he titters over the fine line that is your friendship, crossing it for a second before retreating back.

you tried, you really did try, but he makes it so easy; it’s so easy to love him.

“what’s the occasion?”

you glance to the side and find caleb peering over your shoulder with ease, the silver chain of his necklace glimmering as it dangles against your shoulder, his eyes staring at the steam wafting into the air from the apple pie, his gaze flickering over to you. his lips curl upwards, his boyish smile making you tense slightly before relaxing. you focus on the pie. “just wanted to bake one.”

“*just ‘*cause you wanted to?” his tone has a teasing lilt, but you know that underneath it lies curiosity and skepticism. he doesn’t believe you. there must be a reason because why else would you bake a pie so late? why would you invite him over in the evening and ask him to stay?

so you tell him half the truth. “i haven’t baked one in a while,” you mummer, “and…”

“and?”

you love him. you love his stupid smile and the stupid freckles on his skin.

you take a quick look at him. the yellow light above the stove casts shadows over his face from his hair as he looks down at you. he’s grown too tall and now you stand right at his shoulders, his shoulders have gotten wider. his features from his childhood are starting to grow sharper. he’s no longer the eight-year-old boy with big, round eyes; he’s a soon to be fourteen-year-old with a sharp gaze.

dang it.

you love caleb. you love caleb’s stupid laugh and his stupid personality.

you slowly breathe in. “i’m leaving tomorrow noon, so… i wanted to be the first.”

he hums. “the first to what?”

“to wish you a happy birthday.”

at this, he snorts. “my birthday is tomorrow.”

“actually,” you point at the digital clock of the stove, the green numbers reading midnight. “it’s right now.”

he remains silent as you open a drawer, fishing out a lone candle and a lighter. carefully placing the candle onto the pie, you light it and turn around, forcing caleb to take a few steps back. he blinks once and then twice, staring a the burning candle. his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks, barely noticeable to the naked eye had you not been so close to him. and his eyes, a light shade of amethyst, have golden specks in them that flicker.

“happy birthday to you.” you quietly sing, a smile present on your lips. you watch as his gaze snaps to you, how he stares intently at you. “happy birthday, dear cal, happy birthday to you…” you pause before quietly adding, “make a wish.”

caleb doesn’t say anything. he looks at you for a beat longer before lowering his head and closing his eyes, pursing his lips and then blowing out the candle. he stays like that, with his eyes closed, for a few seconds. then, his eyes slowly flutter open, staring at you immediately. heat blossoms on your neck and crawls up to your cheeks. you abruptly turn and place the pie down on the counter, fumbling around in search of a knife.

“what did you wish for?” you laugh nervously, your heart skipping a beat because you can still feel his gaze on you.

he doesn’t say anything.

“cal?” you turn around, your breath hitching in your throat, eyes widening at the sudden proximity. your heart hammers inside your chest. no, it isn’t from the close proximity, it’s from his eyes. they stare at you with an intensity you have never seen directed at you.

only at her.

his pupils are dilated, his amethyst gaze flickering down before going back to your eyes. “i wished for something only you,” he pauses, licking his lips, “can grant.”

“and what would that be?” your voice is barely above that of a whisper. you tremble as he gets closer, and your back meets the rough edges of the counter. your hands grab onto it to steady yourself, and his hands rest on your hips, strong and calm.

caleb crosses the line.

he leans in closer and closer until your noses are touching, your lips almost connecting. his eyes don’t stray again and remain on yours. “do you trust me?”

“of course, i do.” you breathe out. “more than anyone.”

“then… please grant me my wish.”

and he closes his eyes, the sliver of space separating each other no longer doing so. his lips are on yours, and your eyes are shut tight. it’s brief, the kiss, and caleb pulls back. his breathing comes out heavy and unsteady before he’s diving back in, the next kiss now intense and burning.

he hums. “you’re shivering… am i making you nervous?”

of course he is.

you love him.

the words are right at the tip of your tongue.

“…screw you.” you huff, feeling embarrassed.

you love him.

caleb pulls away just the slightest bit, the corner of his lip lifting into a lazy grin. “maybe in the future, yeah.”

maybe…

“caleb xia!” you hiss, releasing a hand from its tight grip on the counter to smack his arm. “what is wrong with you?”

“a lot of things,” he sighs, resting his forehead on your own. “but you know how to deal with that.”

maybe he loves you, too. maybe he loved you all along.

“shut up.”

his grin is now soft against your lips. “whatever you say, pipsqueak.”

you freeze.

pipsqueak.

and just like that his touch is gone and he’s already a good distance away from you, almost as if you burnt him. tears prickle at your eyes, and they want to fall down your cheek. you will yourself to not cry, to not let him ever have the right to see you cry. he only stares at you with horror swimming in his purple irises.

caleb fucking xia was thinking about her while kissing you.

pipsqueak.

her.

HER.

it's always her.

never you.

the warmth he showed you was never truly for you. was he projecting his desires on you all this time? in his mind, was he seeing her in you?

dang it.

how could you do this to yourself? how could you forget?

he will never be yours.

“i—”

“this never happened,” you say, harshly wiping away the stray tear that managed to fall. your voice is wobbly, but you try to remain calm as you twist around and stare down at the stupid apple pie.

“y/n—”

you hate him.

you hate yourself.

“it’s late,” you mumble. “i have to wake up early for my trip to verona… you should go now.”

you know that caleb has been distant since then, feigning that everything is alright in front of mc when you returned a week before the start of the new school year.

now look at where you are.

the necklace that hangs around your neck is heavy and cold to the touch.

“what’s that?”

“hm?” you look down at what he’s eyeing. “oh. cal gave this to me.” you lift it with a finger.

“…caleb gave that to you?” he asks.

“uh-huh.”

he pinches his brows together. “you wear that despite how he’s acting towards you?”

you shrug, though you don't look at him. “he still—”

cares? he still what? what are you trying to say? who are you even trying to fool: zayne or yourself?

zayne says your name, his voice low. “you put far more effort into this friendship than he does. it should be the same.”

you tense up. zayne is right; you put too much effort into a friendship that won't last much longer, the fire that once burned so brightly in the beginning now dying. it’s only a matter of time before embers are all that is left.

but caleb is the sun to you, and you’re like the moon. so close yet so far, forced to only see and feel it for a brief amount of time. has your time run out with the sun? are you going back to the shadow of the earth?

and to caleb, she is like the sun. he is mercury, the closest planet to it. a planet that yearns to get closer to her even when he is right there, willing to be consumed by the sun’s fire.

“have you thought about what the principal said?”

before the winter break started, the principal of your school asked you if you’d like to skip grades. much like zayne, you were far smarter than the kids in school. according to the principal, you could graduate early like your best friend.

the front door bell rings, echoing in the silent house. you get off the bed, mumbling, “i’ll be right back.”

you head down the stairs and open the door, blinking in surprise at the girl.

“we’re back!” she grins, and holds a bag in her hands up to her eyes. “i come bearing gifts!"

“you must be freezing,” you step to the side and let her in as she laughs.

“i am! it’s pretty cold outside.” the girl slips a glove off one of her hands, pressing it against your cheek. she giggles when you flinch at her cold skin.

weird. zayne was so warm even after standing outside for who knows how long before you let him in.

she takes a step inside and slightly bounces on her feet. “i won’t take long! gran is almost done with dinner.” she quickly takes off her other glove.

“did you just come back?” you ask, closing the door.

“an hour ago!” the girl says. “i wanted to play in the park first since it's snowing, you know! caleb got too tired afterwards so he went back inside to take a nap.”

“oh.”

she doesn't seem to notice the disappointment in your voice, instead opening the bag. she takes out a box, a snow globe inside. the crystal ball holds a close replica to the night sky, and when you shake it, white specks fly. “i had it custom made! i remember that you said you liked winter and the sky when it’s nighttime because the deepspace tunnel isn't noticeable.”

“you remember?”

“of course, i do! you know, i asked caleb for advice on what to get you. he said something small would be fine, but i wanted to make it really special for you. for you two being best friends and all, he has terrible memory when it comes to what you like!” she huffs through her nose, shaking her head. “he was so surprised when i decided on a snow globe and told the old man how i’d like it to look.”

he forgot about what you like while you remember every single little detail about him. of course, he doesn't remember.

you aren't her.

“there’s a little switch at the bottom that lights the bottom up. i asked the old man if he could make the base like one of those nightlights that cast different shapes on the walls, and…” with a pause, she grabs your hands and continues, “i really hope you like it.”

you put the snow globe gently down on the nearest surface, and take hold of the girl’s hands, squeezing them. “i love it. thank you so much, mc.”

she lets out a sigh of relief, squeezing your hands back. “i’m so glad! really, i’m so happy you like it. i wanted to show you my gratitude for not treating me differently since the incident.”

“anyone could tell that you didn't like being treated like you were a frail flower.”

“caleb didn’t.”

you’re about to say something when a glint catches your eye. you look down and see a silver chain around her neck. “what’s that?” you ask.

the girl beams and takes out a necklace that was neatly tucked inside her shirt.

your heart sinks to the floor and shatters.

“isn’t it cute?” she holds the chain out, a small, silver sun hanging from it. the purple gem in the middle glimmers in the lighting of the living room. “i found this hidden in caleb’s things and he gave it to me, said he was planning on giving it to me because he said i’m like the sun.”

you’re a blind fool.

you were so blind to that fact that you’re a moth and caleb’s a flame. you got too close to the fire and now you’re left in pain.

the worse part is that you knew—you knew, and yet you still decided to get close, to delude yourself into believing that there was more to what meets the eye.

you actually accept the truth you didn’t want to: caleb can never and will never be yours.

it’s time for the sun to set in your sky.

you never imagined to experience your first and last winter break of high school when you’re fourteen. you always imagined that you’d be eighteen alongside caleb, that you’d graduate together after four years of rivalry for the valedictorian spot of your graduating class. you thought that you’d get to see him tryout for the basketball team and watch him make it, that you’d cheer him on during his games and even go to the ones at different schools. maybe you’d find a sport that you liked and try out for the team, and caleb would be there every step of the way because you know he’d say something stupid along the lines of him claiming to be your hype man. on exam weeks, you imagined that he’d somehow find a way for you to help him study and then you’d barely review a single thing because caleb would drag you to the park to hangout instead. you thought that you’d see each other apply to the academy and watch each other getting in.

your first and last year of high school couldn’t have been more different.

your goals are to reach the sky, to move to skyhaven and attend the aerospace academy, to get into the DAA afterwards and work alongside your dad in his fleet. you and caleb used to walk on the same path, yet now you walk it alone. you study alone, you work alone, you persevere alone.

caleb doesn't.

he studies with friends because she tells you about it whenever she texts you, or sometimes you happen to pass by the library and see him inside with a group of people. he works with friends, and you see it firsthand when you hurry past the gym and happen to catch a glimpse of him and group of people together. he perseveres with friends because she tells you about how caleb is always doing a group project with his classmates.

he isn’t alone.

even now during winter, you see him head out almost everyday. she tells you that sometimes it's because he’s hanging out with friends, other times he tells her it's a secret. if it's a secret, then he's probably planning a surprise for her.

and you’re proven right when you decide to scroll down the moments page, your finger hovering over a picture she had uploaded. it’s slightly blurry, but you can tell that she holds a necklace to the camera with a bright grin, caleb’s lips matching hers from behind. the caption read: caleb got me a necklace for my birthday! and it’s a pretty thing—the chain is a vibrant gold, a beautiful charm in the form of a sun hanging from it with a pink gem at the venter. it is pretty, unlike the necklace he had gifted you. the silver chain has lost its color, now sporting random splotches of bronze, and the beads have scratches on them, the color chipping off little by little.

it is a replacement; or rather, it is meant to finally get rid of the one you gifted him that he gave to her. maybe he thought it was a bothersome stain that he desperately wanted to get rid of, to finally be free of his last attachment to you.

you click on caleb’s profile and block him.

you need to uproot the already grown plant in your heart, you need to yank it and toss it out.

“earth to little star~”

little star, a nickname your dad gave you shortly after you were born. you asked him why he calls you that one time, and he told you that it’s because you likes to think you’re one of the stars he sees in the sky when he’s far from home.

you look up to find your dad standing over you, smiling.

“you were so focused you didn’t even hear me knock on your door,” he says, sitting down next to you on your bed. “what's troubling you?” his lips curl upwards into a mischievous smile. “are you sulking because zayne hasn't texted you yet?”

and just like that, caleb no longer haunts your mind—the sadness, however, clings to you. that won't leave.

you purse your lips and huff. “i do not sulk while i wait for him to respond to my texts.”

you want to tell your dad that you sulk because you prefer talking to zayne in person. you miss seeing him in front of you. but you won't tell him; you know that he’ll tease you and then tell your mom and then she’ll tell zayne’s mom and then zayne will know.

your dad cocks an eyebrow at you. “are you sure about that?”

“yes.”

“uh-huh,” he slowly says, “whatever you say then.”

you fall backwards onto your bed and squint your eyes at the older man. your dad doesn’t have his uniform on; instead, he wears his pjs. it makes you realize that you almost never see him this… free. he doesn’t wear what ties him down to the fleet. and yet… something is plaguing his mind, weighing down on his shoulders so that it slumps.

“something on your mind?” you ask.

he slowly smiles, his middle and index finger pinching your nose softly. “what would you say if i decided to retire from the fleet?”

you shoot up, eyes wide. “what?”

your dad sighs, his smile still there. “well, i’ve been thinking a lot. my little star is fourteen and she’s set to graduate this may. you’re growing up so fast, and i haven’t been there. shouldn’t it be time that i stay home to watch you keep growing?”

“…is that what you want?” you finally say. you tilt your head to the side and eye your dad, gauging his expression.

he looks content.

“yeah,” he breathes out, slow and steady. “that’s what i want.”

your dad’s shoulders are relaxed, and you think that like him, you’d like to watch him grow older with your mom.

it’s a shame that doesn't happen.

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mcumorningstar · 10 months ago

Text

Prove It, Cowboy

pairing: dodge mason x reader

summary: after the player's ball, you find yourself without a bed for the night until dodge offers for you to stay at his, but when his mom and sister catch you sneaking in they get the wrong impression.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, dry humping, protected sex (p in v), dodge’s mom and sister being kinda invasive about his sex life (?)

a/n: dodge and his mom being so open about her sex life was so funny to me. this is kinda the reverse of a canon conversation... kinda! also i had a dream i went to one of dodge’s rodeos but he was flirting with all the girls so he was my enemy for a few days <3

A midnight sky hung over Carp, Texas when you arrived at Dodge’s house. Dodge put a finger to his lips fruitlessly as the front gate creaked loudly. The curtains of the front room twitched.

A female voice came from inside the house, “Dodge’s brought a girl home!”

Shit.

“That’s Dana,” Dodge sighed, fiddling with his keys and rubbing his forehead with a tight smile. Before he turned the keys in the lock, he turned to you, “Sorry, in advance.”

Your brows screwed together as he guided you inside.

After the player’s ball, Heather disappeared and so you were left without a bed for the night. God forbid you sneak into your own house and face the wrath of your parents.

Dodge came to the rescue.

A sigh fell from his lips at the sight of his mom and sister waiting in the living room doorway with excited smiles and hooded eyes. They behaved more like sisters than mother and daughter. It was sweet.

A dim lamp on the entrance table and the bright colours of the TV cast shadows across the room.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” You smiled politely despite two pairs of unfamiliar eyes trained on you.

God they must think you’re here to sleep with him or something.

“Hi, sweetheart. I’m Jessica. You want something to drink?” Dodge’s mom raised her glass of red wine, “We’re watching Jeopardy.“

She was a very beautiful woman, cherub cheeks and bright green eyes. Dodge was all hard angles, he must take after his dad.

Dodge ducked into the sea-foam coloured kitchen to grab two waters from the refrigerator.

“I’m Dana!” His sister beamed. She shared an unspoken look with Dodge, who rolled his eyes. Before you could thank her, Dodge rejoined your side.

“She’s locked out and just wants somewhere to sleep,” He quelled their unspoken barrage of questions.

His mom nodded along, as if he was lying, “Okay well there’s spare blankets in the laundry room, condoms in the bathroom...”

“Oh my god,” Dodge cursed under his breath, “We’re going now.”

Jessica and Dana giggled behind their glasses of wine, the right side of drunk, “The book, Dodge.”

She winked with exaggeration, her filter totally gone with the amount she’d drank but she was clearly having a fun night in.

Dodge shook his head with a flustered laugh.

With a hand on your back, Dodge guided you to his bedroom. Your face flushed at the unexpected attention and the suggestive situation.

The two laughed rather loudly, saying how pretty you are and how Dodge will fair with a girl spending the night, for the first time you assumed.

The sound of the women stifling laughter echoed around the house. Dodge closed his bedroom door with a sheepish and apologetic smile.

His room was pretty plain; grey bedsheets, grey walls, rodeo trophies and medals, a bookshelf with framed photos on. It smelt like laundry soap and his cologne.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” He offered, tossing his backpack onto the carpet.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t bite,” You teased, as you looked at his collection of trophies and books, “Plus they already think we’re fucking.”

Dodge gave a quick laugh, watching you read the spines on the shelf.

“What book was your mom talking about?” You turned to him and his face flushed.

“You heard that, huh?” He mumbled, “It was a joke really. She thinks she’s funny.”

Even more intrigued by his avoidance, you sized him up with squinted eyes.

Dodge cleared his throat, tidying away a pile of laundry sitting on his bed, “They uh… god this is… They used to worry about me with- with girls. They thought I was a virgin because I never brought girls home to meet them or anything… and so for Secret Santa one year I got a book about… women… My mom insists it wasn’t her and that whoever it was was trying to be funny…”

There was a long pause. Dodge shied away from your eyes, his body turned away from you, despite the little air of embarrassed laughter.

Dodge cleared his throat again, “Super weird, I know. She had kids super young and didn’t want us to make the same mistake. Not that me and Dana are mistakes but it was hard for her. She’s cool about that sorta thing though. Dana’s ex-boyfriend used to stay over all the time and she didn’t care. So if you’re worried, she won’t say anything about you being here or anything.”

Another bout of silence fell between you as Dodge assessed your features, his lips pursed and shoulders tight.

“I think that’s the most you’ve ever said to me,” You laughed and Dodge visibly relaxed.

“No, it’s cool. Not cool but, you know, I wish my family were cooler about sex. My dad saw your name in my phone and reached for his shotgun,” You laughed, “Anyway, a book is probably better than drunk hook ups at the lake.”

“Yeah probably,” Dodge nodded, leaning against the bookshelf, and there was a lull in the conversation.

“Oh… did you read it?” You giggled, a flush of red creeping up his neck and ears, “You did!”

“You can’t prove anything,” Dodge shook his head with a half-cocked smile.

“But you could,” You raised your eyebrows and he furrowed his. It was a joke, he knew that, but Dodge steeled his expression and licked his lips.

“Yeah?”

You kept your eyes on his for a long moment before smiling, “Yeah. Prove it.”

You reached out and rested a hand on his stomach. His abs were tight and lean under his button-up shirt.

One by one, you unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, running your hands along the sturdy plane of his stomach and chest.

Conflicting thoughts ran through your head. Heather was like your sister and Natalie had been planning to win Panic for years.

Would fucking Dodge Mason, their competition, be a good idea?

Your judgement was clouded by the heat radiating from his skin and the smattering of hair on his chest. His dual coloured eyes watched your face as you stood before him, admiring him.

“I saw you like this at the jump but not up close,” You rested your hands on his shoulders, biting your lip, “Thank you, saddle bronc.”

Dodge couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his cheeks, as a sputtered laugh escaped his lips.

In one movement, Dodge threw you over his shoulder and deposited you on his bed, kneeling over you.

A soft line of kisses traced along your arm to your shoulder. With every press of his lips, you itched to feel them against yours, whining at the wait.

Pink and plump, his lips pressed to the corner of your mouth before he pulled back to look down at you, stilling hovering over you.

Taking his head in your hands, you craned your neck to kiss him. Each press of his lips had you sighing contently and the swipe of his tongue had you moaning.

Dodge licked into your mouth with fervour, tongue and lips colliding with no precision, only desire.

You hooked your leg over his hips and rolled him onto his back beneath you, straddling his hips.

Dodge instinctively gripped your hips and watched with kiss-bitten lips and doe eyes as you discarded your dress onto his bedroom floor.

“You gonna give me some tips, cowboy?”

Dodge groaned, your hands pressing against his chest, as he slowly guided the rocking of your hips against his.

With every roll of your hips, your tits bounced in the lacy cups of your bra. His eyes flickered between your chest and your pink panties, rubbing against his bulge.

Dodge groaned, tightening his grip on your hips, “Lean forward.”

Following his instructions, a loud moan escaped you at the change in pressure against your clit.

“Good girl, you’re doing so good,” He rumbled, rutting his hips against yours in a perfect rhythm. Warmth bloomed in your chest at his praise.

Thank you, saddle bronc.

His muscles rippled and bulged underneath your hands as the slick between your legs dampened the skin of your inner thighs.

Cupping a hand at the nape of your neck, Dodge guided your mouth to his, kissing you with pinched brows and deep groans. Pulling away from the heated make out and pressing a deep kiss to his lips, you sat up and unbuttoned his jeans.

Dodge lay back, stroking your thighs and watching you with bated breath. Pulling him from his trance, you hooked a finger into the elastic waistband of his boxers, twanging the material against his alabaster skin.

A smile twitched at his lips as he slowly sat up and kissed you softly, rolling you onto your back. Dodge pushed his jeans off and lay between your legs, the hard length of his cock pressing into your inner thigh.

Settling your hands on each other's heated skin, Dodge kissed you deeply and nipped at your bottom lip playfully. His strong arms wrapped around you, his hand palming at the globe of your ass.

Warm and plump lips mouthed at your neck, teeth tugging the strap of your bra from your shoulder and kissing at the newly bare skin. He unhooked your bra, tossing it onto the floor and laving his tongue at your pebbled nipples.

"Please, need you," You whined, clawing at his shoulders. Dodge pressed a final kiss to your chest before sitting on his haunches and pulling your panties down your legs.

With firm hands on your inner thighs, Dodge parted your legs and bit his lip, staring at your dripping sex. You squirmed under his undivided attention, hooking your calf around his waist and pulling him on top of you.

Kissing him deeply, you pushed his boxer briefs down his hips, dragging your nails across his back once his erection sprung free. The wet tip smacked against your heated skin.

Dodge kicked his boxers off and reached into his nightstand, tearing the foil of a condom wrapper with his teeth and rolling the rubber onto his cock.

Caressing his biceps, you watched as he hovered over you and lined himself against your entrance. You hooked a leg around his hip, gasping into his open mouth as he slowly thrust into you.

Dodge's eyes fluttered shut as his hips pressed flush against yours. A ragged breath escaped his lips, tickling the skin of your neck. Dropping his head to your shoulder, Dodge sighed shakily.

"C'mon cowboy," You rolled your hips, "Buck."

Dodge let out a mix of a soft groan and a laugh into your neck, "You feel really good."

A small giggle fell from you, scratching your fingers through his hair. You bucked your hips again and Dodge clamped a hand on your hip, pulling back and rolling his hips against you.

Picking up the pace, Dodge fucked his thick cock against the sensitive spot deep within your cunt. Sloppy wet sounds echoed around the room with each buck of his hips.

Sweat beaded on your skin as the coil within the pit of your stomach tightened. Your nails clawed at the rippling muscles of Dodge's back, his skin slapping against yours.

Groans tumbled from his lips, pressing heated kisses to your skin, silencing your loud moans with his tongue in your mouth.

Digging your heels into his ass, you tightened your legs around his hips, letting him push one against your chest and his cock sinked deeper into you.

A broken gasp escaped you before his hand clamped over your mouth and his hips stopped, pressing his weight onto you.

The sound of footsteps outside his door and the subsequent flicking of light switches and closing doors alerted Dodge to the presence of his mom going to bed.

Dodge met your eyes, willing you to be quiet, as he continued to fuck you. Your brows pinched together as your interrupted pleasure began to build again, noises muffled by his strong hand.

Pressing his forehead to yours, Dodge slowed his pace and you took the opportunity to turn him onto his back, keeping his cock nestled in your cunt.

A surprised grunt tumbled from his chest and his hands groped at your body, holding you against him. You wasted no time before raising your hips and bouncing on his cock.

Dodge moaned and his eyes rolled back, covering his own mouth. A sheen of sweat on his skin glistened in the limited light. Leaning forward, your clit caught against his pubes, igniting a hotter flame within you.

"Good," Dodge praised, brushing your hair out of your face and watching your tits bounce in his face, "Such a good cowgirl."

He tipped his head back further into his plush pillow and his knees bent off the bed, fucking into you, his body pulling taut at the impending release.

"Gonna cum," Dodge rasped, panting and licking his dry lips.

You couldn't form words, only nodding, meeting his eyes and rocking your hips with the uncoordinated buck of his. The band within you was one thread away from snapping before Dodge gripped your jaw and pulled you into a heated kiss.

White hot bliss coursed through your body as you moaned into his mouth. Dodge mouthed at your unresponsive mouth, too preoccupied with moans of pleasure to reciprocate his kisses.

Dodge pulled back to watch your orgasm wash over you before he hit his peak, white ropes of cum filling the condom as he groaned deeply.

Sinking into the mattress, you lay on his sweaty chest, both trying to catch your breath. Dodge discarded the condom in the trash by his bed and pulled you into his side.

His cheeks and neck were rosy with exertion and he ran a hand up and down your back, "You should try saddle bronc."

Fucked out, you laughed into his sweaty chest, "You should keep that book."

Slowly you drifted into a blissful sleep, bodies entwined and satiated.

#dodge mason #mike faist x reader #dodge mason x reader #panic (2021)#art donaldson

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averagewriter-inthedark · 3 months ago

Text

The Widow's Bite of Love🕷️ | Johnny Storm Imagine

Link to my Marvel masterlist | part 2 here

Characters & Pairings: JosephQuinn!JohnnyStorm x black widow!reader (romantic), the Fantastic Four (platonic).

Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, flirtatious banter, mentions of canon violence, canon divergence | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 2.7k

Requested 📨 yes/no

Premise: Having returned from an intense mission with the Fantastic Four, Johnny Storm receives a welcome home from his girlfriend that's both a reminder to always remember making his presence known, and that behind her rough exterior there's a softness reserved only for him.

note: yeah, Joseph's Johnny Storm already has me in a chokehold and the movie isn't even out yet. I'm having to improvise of course since we don't know much but I'm having fun creating AUs in the meantime. Enjoy 💌

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Johnny knew better than to not announce himself when he entered the apartment past midnight after returning home from a week's long mission. It’d take him a second to shout, “Honey, I’m home!” but all the energy in him was exhausted. The mission took longer than planned. He was bruised and covered in dried blood from superficial cuts to his face and shoulders. Staining the crisp blue and white suit he wore. All he wanted was to get out of the suit, spend an hour in the shower, and bury himself under the covers to sleep until the end of time.

However, that would have to wait.

As Johnny practically dragged his feet across the floor in the direction of his bedroom, forgetting to turn on the main light in the living room, he was knocked off his feet with a knee to his stomach. “Ummph!!”

His attacker pushed him into a wall, his body ricocheting off and dodging the next kick which would’ve hit his side. Their arms wrapped around him, maneuvering him with brute force to put him on his back and Johnny groaned at the pain that shot up his spine. He may not have broken any bones but that didn’t mean he was in great condition.

Using what little strength he had, Johnny put his whole body in pushing the figure off him. They let out a grunt and Johnny froze. It was hard to see, but there was something familiar about the moves his attacker was throwing at him and the familiar grunt that echoed in his ears. Then he caught a glimpse of their side profile thanks to the moonlight flickering in from the living room blinds.

‘Oh fuck…’

Johnny scrambled up and he heard her do the same. But whereas he raced to the light switch, she went to the coffee table and Johnny felt his blood drain. Thankfully he reached the switch first, flicking it on right as a dreading *click* filled the space.

“Baby!” his hands waved frantically, matching the tremor in his tone. “It’s me, baby! It’s Johnny!” The gun trained on him hesitated, and Johnny let out a breath of relief when he saw the instant recognition in her face. The relief only lasted a second though, because then he winced as it was replaced by fury.

“Jesus Christ, Johnny!! I could’ve killed you!!” Her scream echoed off the walls and matched her eyes full of wrath. “What the fuck did I tell you about sneaking up on me like that?!”

“I know! I know--I’m sorry!” his hands stayed up, threatening to fall down but he didn’t want to use any sudden movements knowing she was pumped full of adrenaline. Judging by the sweats and tank top she wore plus the wildness of her hair, she had to have been asleep and heard him come in. Sending her into agent mode. “I--I was distracted and I forgot to shout. I didn’t know if you were--I don’t…I don’t…” the words struggled to fall. His mind, fogged with fatigue, was racing with thoughts making it difficult for Johnny to get a grasp on them.

Plus, his heart was pumping from nearly being shot by his girlfriend.

Y/n, taking in his appearance fully for the first time since their unorthodox reunion, frowned and clicked the safety on the gun, tossing it on the coffee table where it’s usually hidden. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come at you like that without confirming--.” Johnny gently cut her off.

“No, you have nothing to apologize for.” His arms fell to his side as he moved to ease his body on the armchair closest to him. Every muscle in him screamed, and while the fire that consumed his veins helped, it wasn’t enough. “It’s one in the morning. You were probably asleep and I knew better than to just walk in and expect you to know immediately that it was me. After all,” he grunted with a wince, watching as she moved to the kitchen to flick on the kettle before approaching him. “We were supposed to be back two days ago.”

“Yeah I figured something went wrong when Sue refused to answer my calls,” her body crouched down so she was level with his knees. “I was tempted to come after you guys.”

“Why didn’t you?” he leaned forward with a wince, smiling sheepishly at her look at disapproval. He obviously wasn’t great at hiding his pain from her.

“Because you always have everything under control. You’d pull through,” she assessed his features, glowering at the cuts that marked his skin painted with dried blood. The splotches on his suit and slight tears in the fabric. “Looks like this time you had a little more cut out for ya.”

Johnny chuckled, “you could say that.” The whistle of the kettle sounded, and Y/n got up to begin making Johnny a cup of herbal tea. Handing him the steaming mug before squatting once more. The heat of the cup was comforting, and thanks to his powers Johnny didn’t have to worry about burning his tongue when he took the first sip. “Thank you, darling.”

Her hand came to his cheek, making him lean into her touch as she pressed a kiss to his temple that was free of blood. His bottom lip was bruised with a small abrasion, so she refrained from kissing his mouth and instead left one on the corner. Laughing when he tried to catch her lips, but she pulled away causing him to groan.

“Wait here and drink your tea while I go run you a bath,” she squeezed his knee as she started to stand.

“Wait, no, no, no, baby--I don’t need a bath.” His hand snatched hers before she could walk away. Y/n let him hold her in place, but her brow raised with a knowing look. Johnny gave her his best puppy dog eyes, “The shower is perfectly fine and you have training in the morning. You go back to bed--I’ll be fine.”

Y/n scoffed lightly, “Bold of you to assume I’m not taking the day off, Johnny Storm. You just got back and I’m not letting you out of my sight for at least three days.” His face flushed red, causing a smirk to appear on her. “Plus, as if I need training. You and I both know it’s really for my sparring partners. Not me.”

“Which is why--,” he pulled her forward, letting his chin rest on her stomach as he tilted his head up. Sighing when her hands cupped his cheeks. “They are counting on you. You’re the best person for the job, Widow.”

“I’m off the clock,” Y/n smirked at the name, fingers going up to his hair to smooth it out. “That name only works on me when I’m on. Now stop trying to switch the subject.” She scolded, stepping away despite his refusal. “You’re going to drink this tea, get out of this suit and have a nice hot bath. Then you’re going to bed and sleep the rest of the day. Got it?” She left no room for argument, and Johnny wasn’t going to attempt, nodding with a tired yawn.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” she leaned down to kiss his temple one last time. “Don’t move till I tell you to.” The response she got was a lazy two finger salute, and Y/n retreated to their bathroom. As the water filled the tub, she went to Johnny’s drawers to remove a t-shirt, sweatpants, and boxers, placing the clothes on the countertop before grabbing a packet of Epsom salt, bottle of bubble bath, lavender oil, a fluffy towel, a face towel and some candles from the cabinet. She also made sure to grab the first aid kit hidden beneath the sink.

She poured the bubble bath liquid once the water reached about ⅓ of the tub. Then lit the candles and placed them on the stained-glass windowsill. Shutting the water off when it got just below the brim of the tub, Y/n poured a cup of the Epsom salt and let it sit for a minute before returning to the living room.

“Alright, pretty boy, let’s get you cleaned up.” The smile on Johnny’s face was enough to light up a galaxy. If someone would’ve told him when he first gained powers rivaling the sun that his heart would be captured by a woman with deadly skills like the spider she’s named after, he’d say they had lost their mind. But the universe had a funny way of proving him wrong.

Carrying the brute of his weight, Y/n’s left arm went over his shoulders while the other wrapped over the front of his waist. Encouraging him to lean on her as she helped him off the chair and to the bathroom, “Baby, we’ve been over this before, you’re not going to hurt me,” she grumbled when he tried to keep himself steady.

Eventually they made it to the bathroom, perching Johnny on the edge of the tub where Y/n unzipped his suit and got it down to his torso before turning to allow him some privacy while he removed the rest and eased into the water.

“All good?” she asked, opening the first aid kit to retrieve bandages and alcohol pads.

“Yeah,” he moaned, welcoming the hot water as it hugged him. Instantly soothing the strained muscles that were already relaxing. Yeah the shower would’ve been a bad idea. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do for putting you down when you were already,” Y/n’s tone was apologetic, and Johnny gave her a look. Silently telling her to stop being sorry for the incident ten minutes prior. Y/n dismissed his look, bringing the wipes and bandages over as she took a seat on the stool beside the tub. “Also, how many times have you done this for me?” Now it was Johnny’s turn to smirk.

“A few, give or take.” More like a dozen. Y/n’s returned back from missions covered in blood and bruises so much that Johnny’s already got the bath set when her jet lands.

“Exactly,” she says with a hum, bringing his face toward with one hand while the other gathers water on the face cloth. “Now let me take care of you.”

For the next 40 minutes, Johnny soaked in the bath as Y/n wiped the blood off him and tended to his wounds. She washed his hair while he relayed the details of the mission. Telling her how he came to be all battered and bruised thanks to an explosion he didn’t anticipate, too close to the line of fire. With the lavender oil Y/n massaged his shoulders and back, paying careful attention to the bruising so as to not hurt him any further.

When she was all done, Y/n pressed soft kisses all over his face. The contours of his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, the space between his brows. His temple, his jaw, the corner of his lips. By the end of it Johnny was begging for her mouth on his. He craved it. Going as far as to murmur, “Please, baby,” when she pecked his chin. Eventually Y/n caved in. Meeting his plush lips for a shot, but sweet, tender kiss. There was a bit of pain on Johnny’s end due to the cut, but he didn’t care. He needed this.

The water remained warm due to his elevated body temperature, but once satisfied Johnny got out of the tub and dressed while Y/n put everything back in its place. The two then left the bathroom, Y/n flicking the lights off on their way out and led Johnny to the bed. “Oh,” he moaned just like the bath, relishing the feeling of the plush mattress gave him. It felt like laying on a cloud. “That’s so nice.”

Y/n laughed, urging him further into the bed so she could pull the comforter over his torso. Practically tucking him in before moving around to her side, joining him under the covers. Instantly Johnny pushes himself onto his side to curl up against Y/n, who laid on her back and welcomed him with opened arms. As he tucked his face in the area by her shoulder and neck, one hand went to her stomach to sneak his hand beneath her tank top and rest it on her waist.

“You know tonight reminded me of the first time we met.” He spoke after a minute, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of her fingers move to card through his blonde hair. The action made him shudder, pressing himself further into her side.

Her chuckle made his body move slightly, a teasing tone in her reply, “You mean when I tried to kill you?” He could hear the smile in her voice, and it caused his own to appear.

Johnny remembered it like it was yesterday. He and the Fantastic Four were on a mission to locate a highly dangerous radioactive substance that could level an entire country. Recovering it was crucial God forbid it landed in the wrong hands. So they should’ve expected they weren’t the only ones after it.

Something they found out the hard way.

During the extraction, Johnny found himself face to face with the barrel of the gun in the hands of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Dressed in a black tactical suit with too many weapons for him to count and a stare enough to send him to the grave. Johnny felt a bunch of emotions at once. From fear at having a gun on him, to confusion at the red hourglass on her belt.

The encounter ended with Johnny getting a taste of what he would come to know as the widow’s bite. An electroshock weapon via gauntlets on her arms. Strong enough to put Johnny on his ass allowing her to escape with the package. The next day during the Four’s debrief, they discovered her identity.

Her name was Y/n L/n. A highly trained and enhanced assassin of the now disbanded and classified program, the Red Room. Called the Black Widow, Y/n was an expert marksman, master of weaponry, professional in hand-to-hand combat and possessed equipment the Fantastic Four had never seen. The files indicated she’d been a key part in the dismantling of several European governments and linked to a dozen political assassinations. The records alone were enough to make their skin crawl. And frankly the Four were confused as it was common knowledge that when the Red Room disbanded, they killed all the Black Widows under their command to prevent their secrets from getting out.

Turns out, they missed one. Who happened to be their best asset ever produced.

Why was she after a radioactive substance? They didn’t know. But whatever it was they needed to find out fast and locate her before whoever she was working for got it.

Their answer took weeks to uncover. And when they did the events following resulted in Y/n turning on the man she initially stole the package for and aligning with the Fantastic Four to bring him down. Initially they were suspicious, naturally so. Y/n was a spy, breaded and forged to become the best Black Widow the Red Room had ever produced. She was formidable, highly intelligent. A weapon in her own right.

But she was their best chance at beating the guy. She knew his weaknesses. Knew his plans. It was an unlikely alliance, but the odds were against them.

That was years ago. Now after saving the world too many times to count and nearly losing their lives, the assassin turned agent laid in Johnny’s bed in their shared apartment of Baxter’s Building. Holding him in her arms with a softness that took his breath away. The complete opposite of the threatening aura she possessed in the field.

“I love you, Y/n,” He breathed into the night as sleep overtook him. Succumbing to the exhaustion as his heart fluttered at the feeling of her lips attached one last time to his forehead.

“And I love you, my darling Johnny Storm.”

#johnny storm x reader #johnny storm x you #johnny storm imagine #mcu johnny storm #johnny storm fluff #johnny storm x female!reader #black widow!reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #mcu imagine #mcu fluff #fantastic four imagine #fantastic four fanfiction #fantastic four fanfic #joseph quinn imagine

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redpulsive · 13 days ago

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Sylus Affinity 145 Secret Times: Midnight Feast

18+ Minors DNI | SPOILERS ↑ ↑ ↑

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

Writing my thoughts about it while listening to it again for the THIRD TIME! (Insane)

OH BOY this has to be one of the most interesting Secret Times audios for Sylus and I NEED to talk about it. Once again, this includes spoilers so don’t read if you want wait to get it yourself!

I’ll include time stamps for each portion I’m talking about, and if you want to listen to it yourself here’s a YouTube link to an upload of it :•) have fun!

0:54-2:17

I love how right off the bat we get Sylus being his usual loverboy self, literally saying he wants to hear his wifey say she was waiting for him. Even cuter knowing that he finds out MC was, at the very least, thinking about him! Even if she jokingly denies that she had ordered food via room service for the both of them. But oh my god, the line “you better be as bold as you are insatiable today” after all of that is CRAAAZZYYY! The word Insatiable was an immediate clue to where the climax of this Secret Times was going, as it can mean both appetite and desire.

2:21-3:32

MC CANONICALLY WEARING SYLUS’ CLOTHES?? HIS CHUCKLE WHILE SAYING “I’m not trying to mock you” ??? THE WAY HE TEASES HER BY SAYING “do I look like I’m… anticipating something?” AFTER ASKING WHAT HES SUPPOSED TO WEAR BC SHES IN HIS PAJAMAS???? Something is in the goddamn air!!!

4:00-4:09

MC calling Sylus a bad boy and him repeating it questioningly is all I ever needed to hear. His voice actor’s delivery on “You’re calling me a ‘bad boy’ again?” is SO velvety.

4:38-6:20 atp I’m just summarizing what’s happening and throwing my thoughts in there

Sylus literally putting his hand SOMEWHERE on MC’s body under the pajamas (people seem to think it was in her pants) and saying “This here... it’s very warm… oh? This isn’t the fabric? Then what is it? Tell me.” AND SHE FUCKING BITES HIM FOR BEING A TEASE BC HIS HANDS WERE COLD?? I really love how Sylus says “don’t bite” like he’s scolding an animal, it’s so funny how much he’s influenced her because when has she EVER attempted to bite him in the current timeline???? HE’S the biter. And then of course she tries to get back at him and he USES THE PAJAMA SLEEVES TO TIE HER UP!??!?! Then after he says “won’t you be a good little hand warmer now, kitten?” (crazy) she seemingly rips the pajamas by trying to break free? At first I thought he was taking off a ring and putting it down so he could use his fingers on her, but after listening closely it sounds like a button snaps off of the pajamas and lands on a table. This is also supported by Sylus talking about how she’s very strong and the pajamas are too flimsy. He also removes her pants and underwear at some point during this section bc the next part…

6:21-8:30 I GOTTA MOVE ON TO THE FEAST

The way he says he’s hungry and you immediately hear him pulling over a chair/stool?? Or maybe he’s pushing away furniture so he can get into a comfortable position before you hear him START TO INDULGE IN HER KITTY!!!! Just kissing sounds and open mouth noises but COME ON! You know what he’s up to. BUT THEN THEY GET INTERRUPTED BY FOOD SERVICE </3 it’s silly that MC got up to get it and Sylus was like “do you actually plan on opening the door like that?” bc she’s literally in torn pajamas while her pussy is facing the world. He tells her that he’ll get it and to wait for her late night snack, but once she’s done eating it’s his turn to munch. Oh my god. Actually fucking insane. Bro doesn’t even care about the food, he just wants to eat HER SO BAD!!!!!

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

#an INSANE innuendo we’ve got here this time #Sylus practically canonically being an eater #we saw that coming!#thank you infold #sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus lads #lads #love and deepspace #lads mc #sylusmc #secret times

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lulunothulu · 8 months ago

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“Yes, sir.”

Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: Bob is known to be the sweet and shy one of the Dagger Squat. Little do they know, as soon as he comes home to you, he sheds that persona—but only for you.

Content: 18+ smut, some fluff, a hungry Bob 😏

I feel like it’s canon that Bob fucks so let’s let him fuck us…for science 💗😇 Enjoy!!

Robert Floyd was many things. Shy? Yes. Quiet? Sure. But he was not one to leave his girl longing for anything. That’s why when you’d texted him, asking him to come home straight after work, he didn’t hesitate to make sure he did as soon as he was dismissed for the day.

“Baby on board!” Hangman calls out in the locker room. “Where are you going in a hurry?”

“Um, home?” He responds.

“I thought you were coming to Hard Deck with us,” Bradley says, poking his head from behind a locker door.

Fuck he said that didn’t he?

“Sorry,” he smiles. “Can we rain check?”

Hangman smiles, a knowing look practically shooting out of his eyes. “It’s your girl isn’t it?”

Bob only blushes, stammering, “Wh-why, well, umm…”

“Don’t worry,” Hangman smiles and winks at him. “My Darlin’ is the same way. You go get to her.”

Bob almost choked on his saliva, Bradley does it for him and causes Jake to turn around in surprise.

“What?!” Bradley asks when he’s calmed down.

“‘What’ what?” Jake asks back. “You didn’t know baby on board had a girl?”

“Nat told me about her but I thought she was pulling my leg,” Bradley responds.

Bob can hear Jake tell him something but that’s when he steps out of the locker room and heads toward the parking lot. Reaching his truck, Bob pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before starting his drive home.

———

Pulling into the driveway of y'all's small home, Bob was anxious to get inside. From the text you'd send him about an hour ago, it sounded like you urgently needed him home after work.

Bounding for the front door, Bob swings it open expecting to see you in tears. However, he finds you seated on the kitchen island in nothing but a white lacy set of lingerie and matching stockings. On your feet are the heels you reserve when you're feeling extra fun.

Racking his brain, Bob tries to remember if there was something important happening today.

His birthday isn't for another few months, yours already passed...an anniversary?

You chuckle, watching your boyfriend try to think of what could've prompted this look.

"Are you gonna mull over what why I'm dressed like this, or are you gonna come over here and kiss me?" you ask, a smirk on your lips.

Bob nods, dropping his bag at the entryway before closing and locking the front door and practically running to kiss you.

"Hi, baby," he murmurs against your lips.

"Hi, Bobby," you respond, smiling into the kiss he presses to your lips.

He pulls away to take you in, admiring the way the flimsy fabric sits on your body.

Bob's navy eyes darken, turning almost midnight blue with lust and desire. "You did this for me?"

You nod, biting your lip and smiling.

Bob's eyes practically undress you as they roam down your body. He licks his thin lips before smiling and taking his glasses off, hooking them on the neckline of his shirt. You watch as he drops to his knee before you, a smirk appearing and face transforming to the alter ego Bob takes on when he fucks you.

"Are my dinner tonight?" he asks, voice deep and gravely. When you nod, he clicks his tongue. "You know I like when you use your words, Princess."

You hold in your smile before finally speaking. "Yes, I'm dinner for tonight. Unless you want something, then I can—”

Bob stops you, kissing the top of your thighs before opening them and kissing from the inside of your knee toward your pulsing core.

"What was that?" he asks between kisses.

"Nothing," you sigh, watching as his eyes slowly raise to meet your own.

He pulls you closer to him, smiling when you yelp at the motion. He resumes kissing up your other thigh until he reaches the thin fabric of your lacy thong.

The sensation of his breathing on top of your pulsing clit makes you whimper, causing Bob to chuckle against you. A chill runs down your spine when he kisses you over the fabric.

"Lift your hips," Bob orders.

When you do, he pulls the thong down, bringing the stockings down with before slowly pulling your heels off and peeling the rest of the thong and stockings off. He throws them to the side, smiling down at your cunt before squinting and pulling his glasses on.

"Keep them on," you tell him.

"They look dorky," he laughs.

"And I like how dorky you look in them," you smile.

Bob's eyes darken behind those circular lenses before he lowers himself back to your core and kisses your clit.

Warmth and electricity ignite from that spot, up your stomach, and then back down your legs. When he licks you from the bottom of your entrance to the tip of your clit, you moan his name.

“Fuck, Bobby,” you say, back arching a bit off the counter.

Bob chuckles, sending vibrations to your clit where his mouth is lightly sucking.

Another thing about Bob…he was a ravenous pussy eater. Once he starts, he won’t stop until you’re a shaking mess under him.

Moving his mouth, Bob laps your entrance, fucking you with his tongue and moaning at the taste of you. His nose continues where his tongue once was, nudging and flicking your clit as he eats you out.

Your hands fly to his hair, pulling lightly and gently moving his face back and forth, hips grinding into him.

You were so close, you could feel the wave or orgasms crashing into the lower part of your belly and you were desperate to let it go.

“Bobby!” You exclaim. “I’m so fucking close! Oh my god!”

Bob continues his licking, the tip of his dick pressing into his pants at the sounds of your unraveling. He smiles into your pussy when you finally come, sweet and tang coating his lips and tongue.

He only stops when you pull his head away from you.

Standing, Bob grabs the back of your neck before kissing you deeply. The taste of you still on his tongue making you smile and immediately feel that pulsing between your legs again.

“Stand up, baby,” he says, voice gruff and sending shivers down your body.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” you smile.

Bob’s hand slapping your ass as he turns you around makes you giggle in delight. You knew exactly what you were doing. You only call him Lieutenant when you were feeling extra and right now…you were feeling it.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” He growls against your ear.

“Yes, sir,” you mutter.

He slaps your ass again, a yelp of delight coming from your lips.

“Louder,” he orders.

“Yes, sir!” You cry out.

Bob squats down, spreading your ass before licking your cunt and up your ass.

“Oh fuck!” You cry out.

Bob kisses up your back, one hand on your waist and the other undoing his pants. He lets you go to pull his pants clean down and stepping out of the pile.

His erect dick presses into your bum, making you moan and grind against it. Stopping you, Bob grabs your neck, kissing harshly.

“Do you feel what you do to me?” He moans in your ear. “That outfit gets me so fucking hard.”

“I feel it, sir,” you tell him.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Princess?” He asks, nibbling on the sensitive spot on your neck.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir!”

Bob lines himself to your entrance, careful to angle himself to a position that’s comfortable for you before starting to thrust into you.

You’re tight. Almost too tight, Bob has to think of something else to keep from coming inside you at that second.

As he thrusts, you clench around him, walls wet and soft around him—making him speed his pace and mutter a fuck.

He can feel just how deep he is, and he can’t help but pound into you harder. The thought of being able to get himself completely in your cunt makes his head swim in lustful damnation.

He pulls out, spinning you around before lifting you in his arms.

“What’re you do—”

You don’t have time to finish what you were going to say because Bob is sinking you down onto his cock, gliding you up and down as he bucks up into you.

“Oh my god,” you moan, squeezing your eyes shut.

“No,” he growls. “Open your eyes when I fuck you.”

You obey, eyes locking on his navy ones and mouth forming an ‘o’.

He smiles at you before moaning. “You look so pretty taking my cock in the air.”

You moan in response, unable to form words. He walks you to a wall, pressing your back into it and speeding his pace again.

“Fuck baby,” he mutters, eyes still on you. “I’m so fucking close.”

“Come on my face,” you tell him.

“Come on my face, sir.” He corrects.

You smile. “Come on my face, daddy.”

Holy shit. Bob was gonna combust right inside you if you keep looking at him like that.

Pulling himself out of you and setting you in the floor gently, Bob watches as you get you to knees, mouth open and eyes still on his.

Pumping the last bit of orgasm to the tip, he spills all over your face with a groan.

He watches as you use your fingers to push his come into your mouth, making a show to swallow before opening your mouth.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he tells you, grabbing your hair and kissing you deeply.

“I love you,” you tell him when he pulls away.

“I love you more, Princess.” He tells you, helping you to your feet before sweeping his arms under your legs and carrying you to y’all’s room. “Now, let’s shower so we can go for a round two.”

Wheeeew…something’s crying between my legs. What..?

Tag: @sweetwhispersofchaos @ginghampearlsnsweettea @caystar13star @shinycupcakebaker @sunsetsimpsblog

#lewis pullman #i need him biblically #fanfic #bob floyd headcanon #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #top gun bob #i love him #top gun maverick

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scarfacemarston · 9 months ago

Note

Could you please write some hc’s of how Kurt would physically feel? Like, how would his fur feel, his hair, his tail, his teeth when kissing, and how it would feel to hold hands (since his hand only has 3 fingers). Also, could you include a NSFW portion (if you want) of how his genitalia would feel, both with the reader feeing it with their hands, and how it would feel inside the reader. That would be great!

SFW: Kurt’s fur canonically feels like velvet. His fur is not at all the same as Beast’s. It’s very short and appears to be more like skin than actual fur. It is not all over every part of his body either. His body is more like fuzz than actual fur. He can overheat in the summer, but you would never hear him complain about the heat. However, you or his friends would have to keep an eye on him so he doesn’t catch heat stroke. He HATES feeling sweaty, though. It makes his fur stand in annoying directions. His entire tail is also like velvet, especially the spade tip.

His palms and bottom of his feet do not have fur or fuzz on them. He’s fine with swimming if he chooses to, but it’s not something he does often. He’s fine with the rain, but he would prefer to wear a trench coat or something else sleek to protect himself. He’s fine with his hair getting wet, but the rest of his body sometimes annoys him.

His hair is like the finest silk, and you love running your fingers through his soft midnight blue tresses. He loves it just as much - more than you know. He has to keep himself quiet so you don’t tease him. His hands are strong, with many callouses from training on and with bars and poles so often. You wouldn’t expect them to be so strong, just by looking at them! Like the rest of him, his hands are very soft. His hands are also very large, but not enough to be disproportionate to the rest of him. Needless to say, you feel secure holding his hands -even if it took a few tries to find what was comfortable for both of you. From that point forward, he loves holding hands and will randomly gently squeeze your hand or give reassurance that way. Him giving you back massages also feels very unique because of how strong his hands are, but don’t worry, he’s always gentle.

As for his teeth- he’s very careful not to bite you while kissing. He knows what he’s doing and is a talented kisser. He’ll give little nibbles to your lips in between kisses, with a soft swipe of his tongue following as an “apology”. His kisses on your neck or the rest of your body feel divine. He will never bite hard - he’s not an animal and doesn’t like being reminded of how different he is - but he will definitely nip playfully. You don’t know how he doesn't manage to leave bruises - but he likes to joke that’s one of his mutant powers.

Spicy content below:

For his tail: Kurt will use it in foreplay if requested, but it’s not always his first inclination. He’d like to at first please you in the “normal” ways before involving his tail. There’s a fine line between enjoying it and fetishizing him. If he feels like you’re fetishizing him, he will leave.

His pubic hair is actually less than you’d think. As for his dick, he's gifted. Prep and foreplay is an absolute must with Kurt and he’s all to happy to provide. However, he knows he's sizable but he is also terrified of hurting you. Expect a lot of “Are you alright, Liebling?” or “Is this okay, Mein Schatz?”

He’s thick and lengthy with a curved head and a few prominent veins, giving slight ridges like any veiny dick. It’s heavy in your hands and very responsive. There is a definite stretch when he enters you, hence the need for foreplay. However, both of you love the fullness and the closeness it brings the two of you.

#kurt wagner #nightcrawler #nightcrawler x reader #kurt wagner x reader #xmen imagine #x men #x men comics

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maeedrg · 5 months ago

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Happy birthday, Satoru

Birthday Boy Gojo x Reader

ᯓ★

Synopsis : in which you surprise Satoru for his birthday, and he realizes how this day is not as bad as he thought, and how much you mean to him.

Words count : 3k

Warnings : tooth rooting fluff, friends to lovers, slight angst, it takes place before the canon events of the manga but years after Suguru deflected.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : I just had to write a fic for his birthday… At first I had no idea what to do, but yesterday it suddenly came to my mind ! Enjoy babes <3

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December 7. It was Gojo’s Birthday, and you were the only one to remember it right now. Maybe through the day people would indeed remember, obviously, after all. But you wanted to be the first. You took pride in it. Midnight, and barely one minute passed. You knew that Satoru was still in his office downstairs, working on files that the stupid higher ups gave him. Again. An amount of endless paperwork, actually. For once, Satoru still being busy with work at such an unholy hour was perfect for your plan.

You take your phone, dial his number, and call him, excited. Yet you try to keep it hidden, to not be betrayed by your tone of voice. You couldn’t get caught. After some seconds, he answers and you sigh with relief.

“Y/n ? Calling me so late, do you need anything ? Got into trouble ?” teases Satoru, tired way of speaking, and you can hear the shuffle of paper behind him at the same time.

“Hmm, yes. It’s very very important. Can you come on the rooftop of the school ? Like… now,” you fake a worried and slightly panicked voice. Well, you were indeed worried just by knowing Satoru must be beyond exhausted at this hour of the night, or day. Even though he would never admit it. He was like that.

“Wow, wait- It’s that important ? Is it a curse ? I don’t feel anything off, though,” he raises his head, keeping his phone against his ear and looking around, squinting his eyes to see anything with his cursed technique. Yeah, nothing.

“No, not a curse. But it’s urgent, come,” you try to hurry him, biting your lower lip as you pace around the ground of the rooftop, wind making you shiver in this cold weather.

“Here I’m thinking that you are about to confess to me,” Satoru jokes, and you were sure a stupid smirk was on his lips. You roll your eyes, unable to stop smiling at his teasing.

“Satoru, I’m being serious here,” you huff, squeezing your phone tighter against your cheek as you stare at what you prepared, getting impatient. You didn’t deny him, though. That’s what he was thinking, and that makes him grin.

“Me too. I wouldn’t mind some gut wrenching love confession. But alright. I needed a break from all these stupid papers, anyway. I’ll be here soon,” he chuckles, before clearing his throat. You say bye, and turn off your phone. Nervosity directly makes your heart hammer in your chest, growing even more agitated. You just couldn’t wait.

You stand, in front of your little surprise, taking it in your hands and looking up at the starry sky. You take a deep breath, and then Satoru teleports in front of you. The moment you see him popping -long used to his random way of appearing out of nowhere- you extend a big strawberry cake with dozens of candles in front of you.

“Happy birthday !” you exclaim, huge fat smile on your face, eyes half lidded of joy, the flames of the candles slowly moving in the cool air of the night.

Satoru freezes in front of you, partying his lips and being left speechless. Completely and utterly speechless. With one hand, he pulls down his blindfold, revealing his eyes wide open. You could see the chock in his blue orbs, he clearly didn’t expect that. He lets out a somewhat nervous laugh, eying down the cake, and then you. A smile stretches his lips.

“Y/n, what-... what is that ? MY birthday ?” he asks, stepping closer, and licks his lips staring down at the tasty looking cake, then at your pretty face. He couldn’t believe his own eyes, and his heart swells at the thought of you doing this for him. How sweet.

“Don’t tell me you forgot your own birthday. We’re past midnight, so it’s officially your day ! December 7, Sir,” you chuckle, a bit exasperated at the idea that he could fail to remember his own anniversary. Even though it wouldn’t surprise you. Satoru bites his lower lip, and passes his hand over his clearly beyond exhausted face.

“Shit, I did. I was so caught up with work these days, I barely noticed we already were in December,” he starts to explain himself, nervously laughing at how stupid he felt. He raises back his head, and meets your gentle stare. You extend the cake again.

“It’s alright, Satoru. I didn’t forget. So blow your candles,” you insist in a softer voice, and Satoru felt like he died a little at the ‘I didn’t forget’ that you said. He stays silent for some seconds, which was very long coming from someone like him that always was yapping every moment of the day. He takes a deep breath, inhales it, and then steps closer.

“Make a wish first”, you whisper, and he locks his orbs with yours, smiling, before closing his eyes. He looked so pretty, you thought, the orange lights of the flames dancing on his pale skin. When he opens them back, you wonder what he wished for deep in his heart, and he blows his candles. The flames disappear into the night, the smoke lingering in the air.

“What was your wish ?” you can’t stop but ask. He grins, patting your head as he tilt his faces to the side.

“Uh-uh, can’t tell you, or else it won’t come true,” he refuses, winking at you. You grew even more curious, but didn’t insist. Satoru really wanted his wish to come true, after all. A wish that meant a lot to him.

“That’s right. Now let’s get you a slice, birthday boy !” you exclaim happily, maybe even more excited than he was himself.

You turn around, in front of the table that you managed to bring on the rooftop, which was a hassle, and all the other stuff that you needed. Leds illuminate the table, and you take a knife and hum as you cut the cake. Satoru stays speechless again, and he notices small gifts at the feet of the table. No way. His smiles get even more softer, and his eyes stare right back at your form.

“Here you go ! I went to buy it at your favorite bakestry earlier during the day. I swear, I was eying it down all afternoon and evening… It looks so tasty,” you explain, and he takes the little plate and spoon you gave him as you turn around to prepare your own slice.

“Thanks, y/n,” he says, a bit more seriously than usual. But as you turn again towards him, he harbors back his usual goofy smile as if nothing happened.

“You’re welcome.”

You both take a bite, and sigh at how tasty it was. The cake was definitely worth the wait, and Satoru beams of happiness as he nods and hums.

“I just ascended to heaven,” he jokes cheerfully, munching and almost devouring the whole slice. You laugh slightly, and he looks back at you with a smirk.

“You can have more. The cake is all yours, actually,” you muse.

“Well, I’m sharing it with you, so it’s not all mine…” he corrects, showing with his chin the slice you are eating. You huff, rolling your eyes.

“Obviously, I bought it !”

“Nah, it’s just me being generous right now,” he retorts jokingly, and you finish your slice as you shake your head. You both put back the plates on the table, and Gojo walks towards it, looking around with curiosity.

“You really did all this, for me ? I mean, I know I’m amazing, and that you just love me so much, I’m Gojo Satoru after all,” he starts in a fake overly prideful way that makes you squint your eyes, leaning against the railing of the rooftop, “but I didn’t expect all… the effort,” he finishes more calmly, looking back at you as you smile tenderly.

“Of course. You told me that your birthday was just another regular day for you, another year older. You never made a big deal out of it. So, I decided it wouldn’t ! It’s a special day, and it’s yours. It’s a reminder that I’m grateful that you were born, and that I was able to meet you and become your friend. I’m happy that you’re here, on earth, with me. I’m happy to celebrate this day. I’m happy to have you in my life, and I’m happy to see you grow older a little more,” you explain, looking at the buildings of the school under you, and further away, the lights of the city of Tokyo deep in the darkness of the night.

You didn’t know Satoru for that long, actually. Barely more than a year, meeting him last september. You studied in another city during your teenage years, and became a sorcerer for another part of your life somewhere else. You moved not so long ago to Tokyo, meeting the Great Gojo Satoru that quickly became more than a coworker. Way more than you both originally thought.

He didn’t talk much about his past, everytime it was vaguely, but he always showed how he felt disconnected to his birthday. For him, it was the day he came to earth, how the second he was born the burden of the world was already on his shoulders. The boring day people of other clans would wish him a happy birthday, without actually caring about him, and instead directly remind him of his position. The day he couldn’t even celebrate with his own parents, from which he got separated early in youth. The day he wished never happened. The day he felt so lonely, more than he let people think. The day he once liked to celebrate in the past, when it was with Geto Suguru, but it was long forgotten. The day he now was too busy to even think about. The day he even forgot himself, because who cares, anyway, if not even his own person.

In the quietness of his non answer, you decide to continue, feeling like the mood shifted.

“I even prepared you gifts ! It actually took me time to pick them, since you kinda already own everything you want…” you spat, turning and squatting down to grab one of the gifts. You chuckle to yourself and stand back up, only to be met with Satoru looking right back at you, with an expression you never saw him have before.

Tears. Tears were at the corner of his beautiful eyes that were wide open in shock at your earlier words. He was unmoving, wind making his hair swing left and right gently. You gasp, not expecting that at all. Because it was the first time you saw Gojo Satoru cry.

“Satoru ? Are you okay-” you start to say concerned, but then he turns off his infinity, and suddenly grabs you, making the gift fall at your feet. Thankfully, it didn’t break. But you have no time to think about such things, that his strong arms wrap around your body and cradles you close against his warm chest. His face is deep buried in your neck, and you swear you just heard him sniff.

“That means so much to me, y/n. I didn’t even know it would mean anything, actually,” his voice is almost struggling to sort out the words of his throat, strained. He tightens his grip around you as if he was afraid to let go, and you can’t help but hug him back as strongly as you can.

“I’m glad, Satoru,” you whisper softly, and he kisses your neck affectionately. You shiver at the touch. Or maybe it's because his lips are warm, in duality with the coldness of outside.

“I don’t know if it’s better than the love confession I imagined,” he tries to joke to lighten the mood, voice muffled in your shoulder. You let out a laugh, nudging him.

“Well, birthday boy, anything you want for your day. But first, take your gifts,” you look up at him, and he lifts his head from your shoulder to stare at your eyes for a few seconds, not answering. You both stay like that in a short lingering moment, eyes staring back at each other.

“Ah yes, the gifts. I’m excited,” a big smile forms on his lips. You step back, and take on the floor the first gift. You give it to him, and he almost squeals at how overly delighted he was. He was a grown ass adult, but looked like a little boy right now. It made your heart melt just by doing this comparison in your mind.

“What can it be, what can it be…” he chants, looking at the box and then back at you as he slowly unwrapped it. Then, once he is finished, he is met with a limited edition figurine of a character of Digimon that you managed to find after some research, someone selling it back on a website. His eyes open wide, gleaming with surprise and adoration.

“No fucking way ! Are you serious right now ?! No way ! What ?!” he exclaims loudly, as if all energy got summoned back into his body and he opens his mouth wide, turning the box around to look at the figurine.

“Like it ?” you laugh, crossing your arms behind your back and looking at him lifting the gift towards the sky. He looks back at you.

“If I love it ? Y/n, if I could, I would be marrying you on the damn spot right now,” he says half seriously, half joking, or maybe he wasn’t joking at all. He kisses the box, and then he snakes his arm around your waist to bring you closer to him, and he kisses your cheek loudly in a big exaggerated smooch. You laugh, happy of his reaction and feeling relieved that he liked it that much.

“It’s my dear baby now,” he sighs as he looks at it, then back at you, smirking.

“Take good care of it,” you nod, and he hums as he puts the box on the table, “oh yes I will,” he adds.

“I have another gift,” you cheer, squatting back down to grab the second object.

“You are spoiling me, I feel like your sugar baby,” Satory says, and you raise an eyebrow at his joke.

“You are the rich one here. That would be more financially accurate if you were the sugar daddy in this relationship,” you correct, and he rolls his eyes, pouting childishly.

“I’m your sugar baby in spirit, then,” he corrects as you extend the smaller box.

“Yeah, that would be. But this one is not a big deal, it’s more like a little bonus,” you explain, and then he smiles as he takes it in his hands. He slowly unwraps it, more carefully, and he discovers a cd with on the transparent box some sweet words with a doddle that you wrote and drew on it.

“You always say how you like my music tastes, and insist on listening to songs with me, so I made a playlist especially on a cd just for you. Most of the songs remind me of you, actually. Listen when you have time,” you describe, and he holds it in his hands as a soft smile forms on his face.

“How can you be so sweet ? Seriously…,” he sighs, laughing nervously as he rubs his face and looks back at you. “Thank you, Y/n. Really, I mean it. Thank you,” he oh so gently says. He puts back down on the table the cd, and you stand again in front of the railing, looking at the city farther away.

“You’re welcome. But it’s only normal, Satoru,” you give him a smile as you answer, and he leans against the railing too, but instead it’s his back against it. He stares at the moon.

“You make it special. I’m not used to what you call normal”, he lets out a somewhat nervous chuckle, some uneasiness in his voice.

“But, birthdays should be like that,” you whisper, looking at him from the corner of your eye.

“I don’t know. I went to more funerals than anniversaries. And celebrating my birthday is not really… a thing. I don’t have the time to care about it,” Satoru shrugs, nonchalantly, as if it really didn’t matter the slightest and that his indifference wasn’t a big deal.

“I do care,” this time you turn your head to look at him. He stares back at you, and then smiles as he slides his arm before you on the railing, and then brings you closer.

“I know,” he murmurs gently, kissing your hair, “you made me care about it, right now,” he continues, and you lift your face to be at the same eye level as him.

“Mission accomplished successfully, then.” You wink at Satoru, and he nods, letting out a laugh at the same time as you.

“Very successful, actually.”

He looks at your eyes, and you notice how his twinkle from the light of the stars up your head. He brings his hand on your cheek, and softly caresses your cold skin, thumb gently rubbing your lower lip.

“I was serious when I said that it meant so much to me, you know ? You really made me feel vulnerable here,” he whispers, and you feel your heart flutter. You melt a little at his touch.

“Did I ?” you know you did, after all you saw the tears on his eyes, even though Satoru normally never cries. But you didn’t mention it.

“Hmm hmm,” he hums, the corner of his mouth lifting up. He leans slightly towards you, only a breath away.

“You said anything I want for my day ?” he continues, tilting his face slightly, his voice just a murmur and vibrating against your skin. His lips brushes for a second against yours.

“Anything,” you confirm. He narrows his eyes happily, and you knew what he meant.

You softly lift yourself on your tiptoes, slide your arms around his neck and then under the starry sky and magnificent moon, you gently press your lips against his in a tender kiss. They mold on yours, and Satoru lets out a breath of relief when he finally, finally feels your mouth against his. It’s like an apocalypse, heart beating fast in unison and feelings overwhelming. His hands cradle you closer, one around your waist squeezing you tighter. Satoru thought that your kiss was the best gift he could have, to be honest. It was so much sweeter than the strawberry cake, and he already craved more.

Then, as you part slightly away, breath mingled and lips still brushing together, you whisper :

“Happy Birthday, Satoru.”

THE END

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