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Don’t You Want Me (Baby?) Pt 3
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Steve and Eddie are either hooking up or dating - and are about as bad at keeping a secret as they are dealing with their feelings. (Dustin POV)
1 / 2 / 3
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“I’ll be there in thirty!” Dustin said. He slammed the phone down and dashed to his room to round up his notes.
“Bye mom love you gotta go!” He shouted as he hustled out the door and jumped on his bike. Dustin had just made it out of the suburbs and into town when he spotted a familiar Maroon Beemer in the lot by the Quickie Mart.
Steve was standing beside his car in a fluorescent windbreaker, leaning on the open driver’s side door. He was staring at the bouquet of flowers in his hands like his nose was about to start bleeding.
Dustin slowed.
….He could probably spare a few minutes to see what the hell that was about.
Really, it’s been a while since Dustin made peace with the fact his curiosity would almost invariably get the best of him.
“Hey Steve!” Dustin hollared, dinging his bike bell a few times.
Steve startled, comically jerking to attention. As a thoroughbred jock, Steve could be ever so slightly air-headed at times. But that usually didn’t extend to a total lack of situational awareness.
Steve waved at Dustin as he approached.
“Why are you angry at those flowers?”
“What? I’m not - “ Steve cut himself off with a sigh. He shot the flowers another grimace. “I’m just trying to decide if I’m being a total idiot right now…”
Ah, Dustin realized. Must have pissed off Robin.
“What happened?”
“I fucked up, I think. And flowers, that’s my go-to right? That’s the move. But…” he tapped above his temple with the side of his fist - as if to dislodge the stupid. He rested it there for a second. “I can’t help but think I’m becoming totally neurotic.” He said, vaguely concerned.
“Girls like flowers.” Dustin offered a simple shrug.
“Yeah, girls do.” Steve agreed. Then sighed again, shaking his head.
Jesus, he must be gone bad.
And Dustin likes Robin. More importantly, he liked her for Steve, they were a perfect match. But most importantly of all - if Steve fucks this up, Dustin spends the next who knows how long listening to him complain about his endless strings of unfulfilling dates.
“And red roses? Can’t get more romantic than that, right?” He said, trying to sound encouraging.
“You don’t think they’re… I don’t know. Lame? Christ, what the hell am I even - I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing here.” Steve said, sounding totally defeated. He dragged a hand through his hair, displacing his artfully styled do. And too distracted to even notice? Dustin was very nearly starting to get worried. “Never mind forget it. Just, forget I said anything…”
“Who even is this guy? Your Steve.” Dustin scoffed. “Legendary lady killer of Hawkins High. Remember? You’re great at this.”
““Yeah, that’s different though. I guess... I don’t know.”
“Different how?” Dustin demanded.
“How about because this is important. That’s how!” He said.
“Ok? That’s a good thing, Steve.” Dustin said, which even to his own ears sounded just a little bit demeaning. Maybe he did need to work on his tone…
“Is it? The last time I really thought there might be something there, it was Nancy. So of course, I manage to fuck the whole thing up. Because that’s my thing I guess.” He deflated. Then quietly, as though speaking to himself, he said. “Things were going so good too… I just had to start a stupid - “
He finally looked back up at Dustin. He closed his mouth and the far away look cleared. He shook his head, like was done thinking about it right now. Or at least done talking about it because he said,
“Henderson, what are you doing running around this early anyways?”
“Pft, what are you doing running around this early? You and Eddie. I’m surprised you’re not sleeping off your… illicit activities.”
Steve made a face. “No. Don’t call it that. I - we… called it an early night last night.”
“Figures. I’m headed to Eddie’s right now.”
“Ah...” He muttered to himself. He looked down at the flowers again and his shoulders wilted. Then he chucked them into the the passenger seat.
“Woah, man, careful with those.” Dustin scolded him.
“No, it’s fine. Look, I gotta go pick up Robin soon. We have a shift together later. See you around, man.”
Dustin frowned. Why were adults so goddamn weird? Is Dustin gonna start acting like this in a few years.
“Good luck.” Dustin offered, tilting his head optimistically. Steve just waved him off, still very obviously distracted.
“Yeah, I’ll figure something out.”
Dustin watched him climb into his car. Steve would figure it out. Dustin had faith in that, at least. He could have a thick skull, but give him enough time and eventually he got it together.
Steve drove off and Dustin started pedaling again, in the opposite direction, towards the Forest Hills trailer park.
Dustin was at the trailer almost till dinner time, fine tuning what will soon be the very first one shot, nay the very first D&D session Dustin will ever orchestrate. He can’t help violently oscillating between excited and nauseous, but Eddie’s advice genuinely did provide a solid foundation to work with.
Eddie even assured Dustin he’d act just as shocked as the rest of the party, gasping during the big moments. Stuff like that - even though he knew pretty much every story beat he had planned just from helping Dustin sort it all together.
They were just packing up to leave when the phone rang.
“Shit. Give me a sec. That’s probably Wayne.”
“He’s not at work?”
“A buddie’s house. He got the weekend off.” Eddie said, picking up the receiver.
“Munson’s Mortuary Services. You got the purse, we got the hearse. Are we picking up or dropping off, cause - ” Eddie cut out mid bit. He grimaced, looking back at Dustin. “I - uh, hey. Look this really isn’t a good - “
Dustin was only really half ease dropping as he tried to order his session notes correctly. Eddie was talking quietly for the first time in his life, holding the receiving close to his mouth, which was making it kind of difficult.
“No, it’s fine… I’m serious, it’s fine. Yeah, I’m sorry too…. Well, I was being an asshole. Look this really isn’t a good time…” Eddie glanced back over his shoulder at Dustin. Dustin tried to look busy. “Just, don’t worry about it, seriously…. Yeah. Sure, talk to you later, ok?” Eddie started to move the phone away before bringing it back to his ear.
“This week? I’m not sure… Maybe. I’ve just - I got a lot of stuff going on… I’ll call you… Yeah, bye.”
Eddie hung up, hand lingering on the phone for a long moment.
“Who was that?” Dustin asked, so casually it was probably immediately suspicious.
“Funny how you think I won’t make you walk home.” Eddie said, a bone dry threat. That roughly translated to, it was definitely totally my secret girlfriend. “Pack your shit, dude. I’m calling Wayne so you better be ready to go by the time I’m done.”
It seemed like Eddie took it to heart what Dustin said about them never hanging out anymore. That week, Eddie really seemed to be making an effort to start making time for him again.
And the rest of the party of course.
On Monday, Eddie suggested Hellfire (plus Max!) hit the arcade after school. He didn’t give them any quarters, but that was fine, they had enough loose change to have a good time. They’d just need to plan ahead and bring Steve next time.
After school on Tuesday, Dustin called to see if Eddie wanted to keep working on the one shot. Which he couldn’t cause Corroded Coffin had band practice.
So instead, he invited Dustin tag along. It came with the strict stipulation he kept his mouth shut, his ass glued to the couch, and he not try to touch anything, on pain of a swift and merciless death. But Dustin’s come to understand Eddie’s threats have a lot more to do with his penchant for dramatics than any honest hostility.
Eddie was just heading out the door when Dustin called so he said he’d come grab him from his place on the way to Jeff’s.
Dustin thought for a moment about changing out of his pun-derful shirt but ended up scrapping the idea for time.
He kind of regretted it when Eddie rolled up. Music loud and looking, as always, too cool for school. Summer was still fading, so he was wearing a loose, faded Cult shirt with the sleeves cut off. He had more tattoos than Dustin realized (all of them ugly.). There was a red flannel tied round his waist and he was wearing a thin leather bracelet.
Dustin couldn’t pull off a leather bracelet in a million billion years probably.
“Little mans sitting in on practice tonight.” Eddie announced as they walked into Jared’s garage. He got a scatter of hey’s and what’s up’s.
Dutifully, Dustin belined it for the couch. He sat next to the plastic Halloween skeleton that was already sitting there posed to watch (Dustin was introduced to him as Manny).
Eddie seemed to switch into DM mode, someone had to keep the boys focused and on track.
Dustin sat still and didn’t touch anything, which was easy enough.
But come on, their music was way too awesome for a passive listening experience.
Gareth, Jared, and Jeff seemed to appreciate his enthusiasm. Still, Dustin made sure to keep distractions to a minimum. A reasonable minimum, at least.
“God, you guys are just so - “ Dustin rambled. It had gotten dark outside and they were started to pack up their gear.
“Metal?” Eddie said, winding up his guitar chord with a smile.
“Metal as hell.” Dustin agreed, standing and walking over.
“We’ll make a public menace outta you yet.” Eddie said proudly.
“You can always bring the kid around more during practice.” Jeff said to Eddie. The rest of the band nodded around and shrugged.
“Actually having a live audience every once in a while couldn’t hurt.” Gareth said, nodding his head at Manny. Him and Jeff were dragging his drum kit back into the corner of the room.
“Yeah?” Dustin asked, grinning.
“Maybe you’ll pick up a thing or two.” Eddie grinned back, shoving at him a bit and fucking up Dustin’s hair.
“You’d teach me?” Dustin asked, swatting him away. Eddie shrugged easily.
“Oh man. That’d be so cool!” He said. “Maybe next time I could bring some of the other guys? Oh, and Steve could come too!”
Jared practically choked on his instant laughter.
“The King?” He said sarcastically. “Yeah, sure - you wanna bring King Steve here, to sit on the ratty couch in my garage and listen to us thrash around and scream for a few hours?”
“I dunno, could be pretty entertaining.” Gareth elbowed Jeff, nodding down towards Eddie. He was on his knees, focusing intently on tucking his Warlock away in its hardcase. Gareth leaned in closer and whispered. “He’s getting a little too cocky with those guitar solos, don’t you think? Could use a chance to play under pressure.”
“Oh, that does sound entertaining.” Jeff snickered, just as amused by the prospect.
“Can it.” Eddie said, without looking up.
“Eddie?” Dustin insisted, looking to his DM for backup. They were talking like Steve was gonna march in here and just start heckling. Or throwing tomatoes at them or something.
“Sorry kid, they’re right. He’d probably hate it.” Eddie shrugged.
“Come on, it’ll be cool! I could at least ask? You don’t know he’ll hate it.”
“Yeah, I’m sure Steve Harrington would think our heavy metal band is so totally cool.” Jared said flatly, as he leaned over to grab the handle on his bass amp.
“Hey. I saw a Metallica tape in his car the other day!” Dustin said to Jared. Jared’s eyebrows climbed, surprised. Maybe even a little impressed, though clearly too stubborn to admit it.
Dustin turned back to Eddie. He was still expecting him to come to Steve’s defense. But he stayed quiet, barely a part of the conversation. “Come on, I thought you two were friends now.” He accused.
“Sure, Harrington’s fine.” Eddie shrugged.
“Yeah he is.” Jeff muttered under his breath. Gareth puffed up with a badly contained laugh.
Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Right, you blow us all off to go to go smoke weed with him at the drive through, but he’s just fine.”
Jared, who had been bending over to put his amp against the wall, froze in place.
“No fucking way.” Gareth’s head shot up, his eyes blown wide. But it didn’t sound like he was pissed at Eddie for crossing party lines. Not with the massive, disbelieving grin on his face. “You and Harrington? You fucking took him to a drive through?”
“What movie was it?” Jeff shot out, equally delighted.
“Was it a scary movie?” Gareth said. They both scrambled out from behind the drum set, their task wholly forgotten.
“Guys.” Eddie huffed. “Fine. Yeah, ok, we went to go see a movie - So what?”
“And you just, what!? Forgot to mention it?”
“Sure!” Eddie grimaced. He shrugged defensively. “We just - caught a movie. It’s not a big deal.”
Gareth barked out a laugh. Like that, that right there, is the funniest thing Eddie’s ever said.
“Guys.” Jared looked at Jeff and Gareth pointedly, before glancing at Dustin.
“Sorry it’s just…” Jeff paused with his mouth open, incredulous. “Didn’t know you guys hang out now.” He finished. “Ya know, outside the whole - coparenting.”
“We don’t.” Eddie said, tensely.
Dustin frowned as he watched the guys continue to stow their shit. Gareth and Jeff went back to sorting out the drums. “Not a big - “ Gareth scoffed under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.
The rest of the boys were struggling to contain shiteating grins and Eddie was just pretending not to notice.
Dustin had never known these guys to be such… jerks. Why would it be such a big deal if Eddie and Steve were friends?
Could it really be all because they’re just so - different? The idea of hard rocker Eddie kicking back with a jock even once was just patently absurd? Ridiculous enough they jump straight to teasing him for it?
Dustin’s frown deepened. For a bunch of freaks, that all seemed pretty judgmental.
These guys would come around on Steve. Seems like Dustin would just have to make sure of it.
On Thursday Eddie agreed to pick him up from school.
He was late of course, so Will, Mike, Lucas, and Max had all started towards home by then.
When he did roll into the parking lot, it was in a sweeping wave of orchestral heavy metal.
“Pick it up.” He said impatiently, as Dustin opened the door. Eddie evil eyed the school building while he turned down the music. “Don’t like being here any longer than I need to be outside D&D hours.”
Dustin hopped in. He had a VHS copy of Jaws in his hands. He had left it behind at Lucas’ like two weeks ago and promptly forgot about it. A week later Lucas brought it to school and Dustin had only just re-unearthed it from his locker today. It was daunting just thinking of the fees that were sure to be stacking up by now.
His only salvation was Steve. Who’s thankfully working today.
“I need to drop this off at the movie store and before you say no - “
“Sure.” Eddie said, already starting the van.
“I - that was easy.” Dustin sat back and relaxed against the seat.
Eddie kept his eyes on the road and shrugged.
“I was thinking about renting something anyways.”
They drove straight to Family Video. The door dinged as they walked in.
Robin was sitting behind the counter. Still focused on her crossword she said, “Hi, welcome to Family Video, can I help you find - Oh, hey guys.”
“Hi Robin!” Dustin said, walking up to the counter.
Eddie lingered by the displays. He traced a finger over one of the tapes on the shelf. “Harrington, here?” Eddie asked, inspecting the cover.
Robin rolled her eyes but she was smiling. “You just missed him. It was seriously slow today and he won rock/paper/scissors so - he clocked out early for the day.” Eddie hummed and put his hands in his jean pockets.
Dustin handed Robin his VHS tape.
“This is eight days late.” She frowned at the computer.
“So - “ Dustin said, thinking fast to distract her from errant thoughts of late fees. “how’d you like the flowers?”
“Flowers?” Robin scrunched up her nose at him.
“The flowers Steve got you?” Dustin blurted out before he clamped his mouth shut again. She squinted at him. Suspicious.
“What are you on about?”
Shit. Steve hadn’t got those for Robin had he?
“Nevermind.” Mayday-mayday. Pull up!
Hopefully Steve wasn’t too pissed at Dustin for letting that little detail slip. And Dustin could barely feel bad for blowing Steve’s cover because, what the hell Steve?
Robin’s lip twisted. She looked down her nose at him, regarding him uncharitably. He forced a smile as she stared him down for a moment longer. Then her face cleared. Raising her eyebrows innocently she turned back to the monitor.
“So about that fee. That’ll be five fourty-“
“Ok! I - “ Dustin hesitated. Sorry Steve - that was five dollars he really did not have. “I don’t know. I ran into him a few days ago. And he’d just bought a big thing of roses.” Dustin caved, shrugging and holding his palms up defensively.
“Ooooh.” Robin’s eyes crinkled with a warm smile and her gaze slid somewhere behind Dustin shoulder. Then quickly snapped back into place.
“Oh.” Robin said again. She looked baffled, like the implications of that just hit her and clearly didn’t sit with her right.
“Maybe they were for his mom? His parents are in town aren’t they.” Dustin offered.
“You know what? Yeah, that’s probably it.” Robin nodded vigorously. The poor, love struck girl just immediately latching onto the explanation.
“Nah.” Dustin turned around to look at Eddie. He was still feigning intense interest in that copy of An American Werewolf in London. “His mom is allergic to roses.”
“That doesn’t mean he - ” Robin scrambled. “Maybe he just… forgot, or something. I mean, you know Steve. Total ditz.”
He shrugged. “That’s fine isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I mean, yeah.” Robin said cautiously. She seemed confused more than anything.
Eddie said cooly, hands still in his pockets. A perfectly neutral smile on his face. “Steve’s a free agent, right? He’s free to play the field.”
Jeez, did Eddie have to be so blunt? What ever happened to letting a girl down easy?
“Uh…” Robin said, looking between the two of them uncomfortably. Like maybe she didn’t quite know the answer to that anymore but it was also something she really didn’t want to sort out in public.
Dustin honestly felt a little bit bad for her. Sure they both always say they’re not dating, but clearly she seemed none too thrilled at the idea of Steve going around giving another girl flowers.
Dustin had hoped with the way Steve was talking the other day, he had finally got his head out of his ass and was ready to go public and make them official.
“Hey, man, I’ll meet you in the car, yeah?”
“Sure.” Dustin said.
“Eddie - “ Robin said. Eddie looked over his shoulder, lingering half way out the door. Robin glanced at Dustin. “Uh. Bye.” She finished lamely.
He smiled at her. She didn’t smile back.
Robin went back to the computer. She worked in complete silence. Suddenly the thick clack of the keyboard and the low murmur of the movie on the screen in the corner were way louder. Her brow was set like it gets when she’s stuck on a troublesome crossword.
“Sorry.” Dustin said, his face twisting up with guilt.
Robin glanced side long at him.
“I can talk to him you know.” He said.
“Huh?”
“I can talk to Steve. He shouldn’t do that to you.”
“Jesus, for the last time. We - are not - dating.” Robin said through gritted teeth. She made a frustrated noise. “Do you have to be so… ergh, meddlesome.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” He lied, taking a step back.
“You need to stay out of your friends love lives.”
Yeah well, how about Dustin stops meddling when his friends stop being so dumb about everything. Till then they’ll just have Dustin to thank for sorting out their messes.
Tag List : @reading-archieves @homoerotictangerine @bingbongsupremacy @aroseandherthorns-blog1 @wheneverfeasible @travelingtwentysomething @ineffable-monster-romancer @laughingphantoms @gregre369 @rawrx3ky-txt @thespaceantwhowrites @blcksh33p1987
@the-legal-shipper @maverickricky @i-amthepizzaman @pretend-theres-a-name-here @steddiefication @that-one-gay-crow @gleek4twd
@theintrovertedintrovert @tinyplanet95 @queercrisis2003 @awkwardgravity1 @stripey82
@sofadofax @midnightskeeper
@blurryjoji @estrellami-1 @caraspud @little-trash-ghost @finalmoondragon
@samsoble @depressed-freak13
#steddie#Steve Harrington#Eddie Munson#steddie ficlet#stranger things#dustin henderson#god I love Dustin. what a troublesome bastard#just bamboozled it all up huh?#also just like for clarity. No i Do Not think Steve is dumb#unfortunately Dustin’s fatal flaw he much learn to overcome in this story is#much like Odysseus before him#hubris. so he thinks literally everyone is a little bit dumb it’s called characterization look it up sweaty#also pls accept my humble offering of Personal Corroded Coffin Group Dynamic Headcanon#because I’m friend w a bunch of boys Eddie’s age and whenever I read stories w/ CC they’re not loud enough#and like. of course. of course their gonna tease Eddie about his dumb hate crush on Steve he’s had since literally forever#my headcanon is Steve was regularly brought up by the CC boys because it was the ONE THINGs#like since waaay before Eddie started hanging around the party#and it’s only gotten 10000009% worse since him and Steve started coparenting#god they’re so annoying#and I love them so much 😭
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Celoso // Damian Priest x Reader
Author’s Note -> Hellooo everyone, I had planned to put this out earlier in the day but something happened and it threw me pretty bad, but I still wanted to deliver. As always, happy readinggg!
Plot -> He doesn't want to see you with anyone else but him...
Pairings -> Damian Priest x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings -> Friends to Lovers, Cursing, Jealous!Damian (Dom Mention lol), Choking, Spanking, Hickies, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F! Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI
Word Count -> 3.0k
“Hey, Y/N, I gotta talk with production real quick… you alright to wait here for a second?” Damian had brought you backstage for an episode of Raw in Brooklyn, which mostly meant you were following him around all night, but it was so cool to be in his world for the night and see your childhood best friend live his dream, becoming one of the biggest stars on the brand in the process.
“Of course, Dames, I’ll be here!” He flashed you a smile and walked off with someone, leaving you to fend for yourself for the time being. You pulled out your phone and scrolled through socials, making sure to respond to some messages from family and friends. X always provided you with some entertainment, especially on the wrestling side of the app, so you scrolled through some of the Damian fan accounts, liking some tweets here and there.
“Y/N! Is that you?” You snap your head up to find Dominik Mysterio, who was making his way over to you. Now, you weren’t gonna lie, after you met him last year when Damian was still in The Judgement Day you had developed a little bit of a crush on him. He was for sure attractive, but he was so laid back as well and you loved that. You didn’t dare tell Damian though, he’s been weird with crushes you had since you were kids, and after all you just thought Dom was cute- it’s not like it’d ever go anywhere.
“Dom, hey! How have you been,” you extended your arms out and wrapped them around his waist for a hug, staying there for a few moments before backing away.
“I’m good, I’m good! I didn’t know you were in town tonight, it’s great to see you!”
“Dom… I live here, of course I’m in town,” you chuckled as he blushed, forgetting you were a Brooklyn native.
“Oh, yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “well hey! I’m staying here an extra day, I’ve got some press stuff to do but afterwards I was thinking we could go get some drinks? It’d be nice to spend some time with you, catch up for a bit…” he trailed off, giving you his trademark smirk letting you know he’s (most likely) up to no good. It was your turn to blush now, looking up at him as he scanned you from head to toe.
“Um… yeah, I think I’m free tomorrow. I’ll just give you my number so you can text me when you’re done with your interviews and such. There’s this place I know near my apartment, they’ve got really good drinks and some decent food in case we get hungry. I’ll send it to you,” you smiled, taking his phone from his hand and inputting your number before handing it back to him, your hands brushing as you exchanged the phone. That simple touch sent a shock through your body as you looked up at him, sensing he felt the same thing.
“Sounds good, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he walked backwards, still looking at you and whispered, “te ves bien esta noche, ángel1.” You blushed again at his words while he winked at you and walked off. You leaned back against the wall, sighing contently at the exchange, and noticed Damian standing to the side looking… upset? Sensing his foul mood, you made your way over to him.
“Hey, there you are! Everything okay? Did the meeting go well?” He nodded, still staring off into the distance as you waved your hand in his face. “Earth to Damian, you sure you’re good?”
“Yeah. m’fine, What’d he want?” He signaled to Dom, who was walking down the hallway.
“Oh, nothing super important, he just asked if I was free tomorrow to get drinks so I gave him my number so we could meet up. Haven’t seen him in like a year, so it’ll be fun to catch up,” The smile on your face dwindled as you noticed Damian seemed to be getting more and more irritated the more you brought Dom up.
“Sucio…”
“Huh?” You thought you heard him mutter something under his breath.
“Nothing, let’s get outta here. You ready?” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you both out of the arena and to his car to head to your place, watching him closely as he drove. The arena wasn’t too far from your apartment, so you and Damian were able to get there and get settled in pretty quickly. The two of you were seated on your couch, beers in hand as you two talked about the night.
“Amor, don’t get me wrong, Dom’s my brother… but he’s a player. Seriously, that whole ‘Dirty Dom’ thing you see is real. I just don’t want you to get hurt, ‘cuz then I’d have to kick his ass forreal.”
“Dames, c’mon, it’s not even like that. We’re just catching up, that’s it.”
“You sure about that? Y/N, please don’t be stupid, he was basically fucking you with his eyes…” you smacked his arm gently, cutting him off.
“Hey! Chill, he wasn't, he's just… friendlier than most, I guess. And besides, is it really a bad thing if it is a date?” Damian’s entire demeanor shifted. “I mean, I haven’t gone out with a guy in over a year… maybe it’s time to do something about that? I’ve been pretty lonely, Damian, I don’t exactly have you around all the time…”
“What, and you think Dom can help you with that?”
“Well, I-” he cuts you off, his deep voice getting more and more intense with every second.
“You think Dom can keep you company better than I could? Treat you better than I could? Love you better than I could?” You furrow your brows at him, confused as to why he’s making this all such a big deal.
“Jesus, Dame, you act like you’d be losing me if I were with Dom. Newsflash, you wouldn’t, so why the fuck are you freaking out on me right now?” Damian sighed, setting his beer down and rubbing his temples in frustration.
“Y/N, you just don’t get it…”
“Well then make me understand, Damian. You’re sitting here mad at me because Dom asked me to go get drinks and I just don’t get it. You’re supposed to be happy for me, I’m finally putting myself out there again and as my best frie-”
“It’s just that, Y/N, I don’t want to be your friend anymore, okay? He estado enamorado de ti desde que éramos niños.2 All these years, I’ve waited and waited but I’m tired of waiting, Y/N, I want you. More than anything in this world,” he paused to watch your reaction, as you sat shocked. All this time, he’s been in love with me?
“The thought of you going out with Dom, being with him, letting him touch you? It makes me sick, mi amor, because it should be me. It should be me touching you…” he pushes a stray hair behind your ear, “loving you…” his fingers dance along your jaw and cup your cheek, “tell me you feel it too, please, I know you do.”
“D-Dames, I-,” you stutter out, still trying to wrap your head around the whole thing. Damian sighs, removing his hand from your face and distancing himself, placing his hands on his knees before standing himself up.
“It’s okay, Y/N, I understand…” he trailed off. “I think it might be best if I head home, give us both some time to think about things. I’ll see you later.” Damian heads towards the door, head down as he drags himself to leave. You realize you’re about to let the best thing to ever happen to you walk out, so you stand up and run over to him, wrapping your fingers around his wrist to turn him around. Your hands grab his face and pull him down to meet your lips, his hands wrapping around your waist instinctively. You pull away from him, hands still on his face and looking into his eyes. “Dames, I’ve always loved you, I just never thought you did too.” You confessed, blushing as you did so, “but I promised Dom I’d go out for drinks with him. I can’t just cancel on him, we’re fr-”
“Still thinking about Dom…” Damian closes the distance between you too, bodies dangerously close, “Baby, you won’t be able to remember his name after I’m done with you… only name that’s gonna be coming from those pretty little lips of yours,” his lips hovered over your own as he growled, “is mine.” He crashes his lips into yours, snaking his hands up your torso and removing your shirt before removing his own. The kiss was intoxicating, your mind feeling fuzzy as you wrapped your arms around his neck and walking the two of you backwards. Your back hits the wall with a soft thud, making you gasp which allows Damian’s tongue to slip inside and assert its power over you. His fingers trailed along your sides and wove themselves into the waistline of your pants, tugging on the clothing to undo the button. You reached your hands down between you, allowing him to step back as you removed your bottoms and tossed them to the side.
“Fuck, Y/N, tu cuerpo es una obra de arte. C’mere.” Damian pulls you to him and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you effortlessly to your bedroom. You giggled, playfully kicking your feet and trying to ‘get away’ but Damian’s grip on you remained firm as he placed a smack to your ass making you bury your head in his shoulder as he rubbed the smooth skin and walked you to the foot of your bed. He laid you down before taking his jeans off and climbing on the bed with you, pulling you on top of him and pulling you back in for another kiss. You were straddling him, your hips grinding against him. He hissed against your lips, feeling your wet pussy soak through your panties and onto his growing bulge. The movement of your hips was driving him wild, but more wild were his imaginations of you sinking down on his cock and moving your hips like that while he was buried inside you. He would hold onto that thought, flipping you two over and targeting the sensitive skin on your neck. He bit and sucked the flesh hard, drawing bruises to the surface without a doubt. The intensity in which he worked on you had you spiraling- your mind was hazy and the soft moans being elicited from your mouth were beginning to grow louder. He continued his descent downwards, being sure to kiss, bruise, and nip at your breasts and sternum as he traveled downward. His face was finally level with where you craved him most, and luckily for you he was in no mood for games. He took the delicate material of your panties in his hands and ripped them, the cloth now coming off with ease as your pussy clenched at the sight. He chuckled, admiring your pussy and watching it pulse in ways he knew only he could make it do.
“Oh, baby, she’s so ready for me already,” he brings his right hand to your folds and collects your juices on his fingers, placing them in his mouth and moaning at your taste. “So fuckin’ sweet for me too. Pretty pussy knows who her Papi is, doesn’t she?” You moan at his words, whining as he teases you with his fingers. “Whose pussy is this, nena?”
“Y-yours, it’s yours…” you moaned but Damian, not satisfied, delivers a gentle smack to the front of your pussy, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure, rubbing you to ease the sting from his hand. “You must’ve misunderstood.. I said… whose pussy is this, baby?” He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs circles, your back arching at his motions. “Mmm, fuck, it-it’s yours, Papi. All yours. Please…” you whimper. “So much better, baby,” he groans and lowers his head, allowing your thighs to wrap around it as his tongue and fingers conduct you to your orgasm like a symphony. The torturous pace of his tongue compared to the pace of his fingers was sending you completely over the edge, your body shaking as he coaxed you to cumming on his fingers. He cleaned you with his mouth, savoring your taste on his tongue as he brought himself back to your level. You kissed him passionately, tasting yourself on his lips and moaning into his mouth. You flipped the two of you over to straddle him again as you kissed down his chest, desperately wanting to return the favor. You bring yourself level to the bulge aching in his boxers that desperately wants release and lace your fingers in the waistband, pulling them down. His cock springs free and rests against his lower stomach, bigger than anyone else you’ve been with. You gasp at the sight. “Y-you’re s-so big..” you mumble, keeping your eyes glued to his length. He chuckled, cupping your face and bringing you to look up at him.
“You like what you see? Hmm?” You nod, biting your bottom lip and taking him in your hand. You pump him slowly, spitting on his dick and teasing the tip with light sucks. He grips your hair and pulls down while you look up at him, lifting your chin and letting your mouth fall open. “Papi don’t like you teasin’ me like this, pretty girl,” he groaned at the sight of you before him, so desperate for him. “M’gonna have to fuck that outta you, you understand?”
“Y-yes, Papi,” you whispered. He winks at you as he slides his cock into your open mouth, your lips tightening around him as he thrusts himself into your throat. He sits up, getting leverage before tightening the grip on your hair and fucking your throat with no mercy. He moans your name loudly, eyes glazed over watching as a trail of saliva dribbles down your chin as your eyes water from his work on your throat. He slows down, pulling out of your mouth as his hand grips his length.
“Mmm, come sit on this dick, princesa.” You crawl up to him and swing your leg over to straddle him, wrapping your fingers around him and rubbing his tip along your entrance. Damian’s hands settle at your waist as you rub yourself on him, before sinking down on his cock. You both throw your heads back in pleasure and moan as he slowly bottoms out inside you. You grind your hips on him, your clit brushing on his pelvic bone, and you whimper his name. Your slow grinds pick up as you lose yourself in the feeling of Damian filling you that you grab hold of the headboard and fuck yourself on his dick. Sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs fill the room as you chase your orgasm, as Damian pulls you down to him and wraps his arms around you while thrusting into you from below you. Your moans turn to screams as you bite down on his shoulder, trying hard not to completely fall apart on him.
“F-fuckkk, Dames. M’so close.. I’m gonna-” Before you finish your thought he throws you off of him, pulling you to your hands and knees before roughly slamming into you from behind. He delivers harsh slaps to your ass as he fucks you mercilessly.
“You think Dom can make you feel this good?” He grabs a fistful of your hair as you moan for him, arching your back and allowing him to go deeper. “You think he can touch you like I can? Dime, cariño, could Dom fuck you this good?” He grabs you by the neck now, lightly squeezing as he pulls you flush against his chest and continues to pound into you from behind. “Answer Papi like a good girl,” he growled in your ear.
“Oh fuckkk, no no no. Only you, Papi. I’m all yours, Dames. Only you can make me- oh my god, I’m so close… please, Papi, please let me cum…” you begged for him, pleading for your release as Damian continued to drill into you.
“Shiiiiit, fuck Y/N- go ahead, baby. Cum all over Papi’s dick.” And with his words your orgasm comes crashing down on you, you shake in his arms as you release all over his cock, moaning Damian’s name over and over as you come down. Damian follows suit, pumping his cum deep inside your pussy and moaning your name into your neck, planting kisses along your neck and shoulder. He pulls out of you, collapsing next to you and opening his arms for you to rest your head on his chest.
Damian was woken up by the sound of a phone ringing. He blinked his eyes open, seeing you were in a deep and peaceful sleep. You were not waking up. He realizes it’s your phone so he picks it up to turn it off, but sees the caller ID and stops. Dom.
He slides his thumb across to answer the call. “Hey, Y/N! I wanted to let you know I’m done wi-”
“Oye, Y/N’s not going out tonight, está ocupada conmigo… oh, and Dom,” he paused, glancing over at you and watching you sleep soundly beside him, “borra su número antes de que tengamos un problema.” Damian hangs up before Dom can speak, setting your phone to the side and cuddling into you once more before falling back asleep himself.
#damian priest#wwe#wwe fanfiction#wwe imagine#wwe x reader#damian priest x reader#smut#damian priest smut
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I’m about halfway through season three, and I’d just like to take a moment and look at how losing Rose has changed the Doctor.
First the obvious things: he’s more serious. During his time with Rose, he was mostly cheerful, funny, and generally quite positive. There were a few darker moments, but for the most part he had a pretty sunny personality, especially when he was with Rose. In season three, while he still tries to maintain his happy personality, he occasionally slips into melancholy and his cheerfulness often feels like a bit of a facade. This isn’t to say that there aren’t moments when he’s genuinely happy, but they seem to be far less frequent than the durst two seasons. He smiles less. He doesn’t have as many quips. He’s barely laughed at all. But that’s to be expected. He just lost someone he loved; it makes sense for him to be more withdrawn and sad.
The thing that struck me the most was how reckless he’s become. He’s always been a bit reckless, but he’s also tried to avoid things that will most likely kill him. He might be constantly getting himself into very dangerous situations, but he (almost) always thinks of some way to not die. (I think it’s because he knows that if he dies the Time Lords die with him, but that’s a different post.) In season three, he’s practically suicidal. So far, he’s allowed himself to come dangerously close to death at least five times, some seemingly without expecting to survive.
First was in episode one, when he let the Plasmavore drink his blood so she wouldn’t register as human on the scanner. He had no companion at the time, so he couldn’t have expected anyone to come for him. Even if someone had found him, they would have needed to do a blood transfusion, and since he’s not human it’s unlikely that human blood would save him. (I’m actually not sure how he survived that. Martha gave him CPR, but that didn’t fix the blood loss issue.) Even knowing all of that, he still allowed the Plasmavore to drain his blood without hesitation. He technically could have regenerated, but that didn’t seem to be part of his plan. I’m still not quite sure how regeneration works, but I’m pretty sure he has to be conscious for it to happen, and he was definitely unconscious when Martha found him.
The second time was when the Carrionite did he voodoo doll thing. This is admittedly a weaker example, since he does have two hearts, but I’m not entirely convince that he knew he’s be able to restart his other heart. He can clearly survive with just one heart (at least for a little bit,) but it significantly weakened him and it’s unclear how long he would have survived it. Had he been unable to get both hearts working, he probably would have died later when his remaining heart gave out under the strain, or been finished off later by the Carrionites and unable to defend himself. And yet he seems remarkably unconcerned, even when he realizes what she going to do. This isn’t to say that he wasn’t worried, but maybe not as worried as he should have been.
Third is when he willingly offers himself up to the Daleks, fully expecting them to kill him. This is one of the best examples, because he is 100% convinced that they are going to kill him. He’s so convinced that it actually comes as a shock when they decide not to kill him on the spot. Sacrificing himself makes sense in this situation, but it was a bit shocking how fast he agreed. I had expected to frantically try to come up with a plan, or at least to try fighting, before he decided to sacrifice himself. I certainly hadn’t expected him to straight up tell them to kill him.
Fourth was when he put himself in the direct path of a lightning strike/gamma ray burst on the off chance that some of his DNA would get transferred. Again this is an excellent example because not only did he put himself in its path, he actually held onto a lightning rod and wouldn’t let go for the duration of the gamma ray burst. There’s also the small fact that said lightning rod was on the top of the Empire State Building, and if the lighting and radiation hadn’t killed him a fall probably could’ve. That is literally the definition of suicidal.
The fifth and (so far) final time was when he, once again, sacrificed himself to the Daleks and demanded they kill him. Yes he knew that the Dalek-humans had some Time Lord DNA in them, but he still couldn’t be sure it would be enough. If you still don’t believe that he’s suicidal, I think seeing him stand in a room full of people with lasers/guns and telling them all to kill him should convince you. If even that doesn’t work, then you should consider the fact that the last three all happen in the same episode.
Let it never be said that losing Rose didn’t affect the Doctor.
#doctor who#rose tyler#martha jones#dr who#the tenth doctor#tenrose#timepetals#doctorrose#dr who season three#10th doctor#the doctor#doctor who s3#daleks in manhattan
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Hiii !! i just wanted to say that you daughter!reader stories are just the cutest ever 💖 Can i request one emily x daughter where her little girl is in her super clingy behaviour phase and just wants to be with emily 24/7?
Velcro-Baby
Emily Prentiss x Daughter!Reader
Summary: You were going through an extra clingy phase, not wanting to part from Emily at all.
———
Emily had her first day off in a while, finally getting to spend her whole day with you, her clingy little toddler daughter who never wanted to let go of her mama for only a second. One day of not hearing your heartbreaking cries every time she tried to leave for work.
You were sitting on Emily’s lap while the both of you ate breakfast, you were shovelling some yoghurt in your mouth with your pink plastic spoon. You suddenly started singing your words, very cheerful since Emily wasn’t leaving. “Mama! Mama! Mama!”
Emily let out a little amused laugh, putting some of her own breakfast in her mouth. “Hello, hello, I’m right here! I’m not leaving today.”
You just giggled and turned around to look at Emily, giving her a sloppy-toddler-like kiss on her cheek with your yoghurt-covered mouth. You obviously didn’t care about the yoghurt you were leaving on your mother's cheek, you just wanted to shower her with all the love in your little heart.
Emily scrunched her face slightly at the feeling of yoghurt and baby drool on her cheek, but she knew you meant well. She returned the gesture with a peck on your tiny cheek. “I love you too! I love you and your yoghurt kisses.”
Eventually, breakfast was over and Emily set you down on the floor gently, grabbing both now-dirtied bowls to take them to the sink. Though she only got a few steps before you started to bawl your eyes out.
You immediately pulled yourself up by a nearby chair and toddled as quickly as your tiny legs could take you over to Emily, gripping her legs tightly as you cried. “Mama! Up! Mama!”
Emily let out a small sigh, picking you up and setting you on her hip. “Sweetheart, Mama’s trying to do the dishes. I can not hold you for one second, my love.”
You had immediately quietened down when Emily picked you back up, watching her now attempt to wash a bowl one-handed. “Mama.”
This had gone on for most of the day, you would not let Emily put you down, not even to go to the bathroom. Every time she tried you’d just cry your head off. Now Emily was trying to put you in your car seat so she could quickly go pick up a case file at the office, though you were not cooperating.
You were squirming in the rear-facing seat, your tiny hands gripping the sides of the padded car seat as your little legs prevented Emily from laying you down. You let out a loud cry and tried to push yourself out of the seat. “Mama! Mama! Mama! Wan’ Mama!”
Emily let out a frustrated sigh, holding you down and trying to do up your buckle with one hand. “Y/N, it’s okay, I’m right here. I’m right here, baby. We just have to go to Quantico, we can see Uncle Hotch, Aunty JJ, we can see everyone! You gotta let go of Mama for a second, then you’ll be right back in my arms.”
By some miracle, Emily got you buckled in your car seat and on the road in under 20 minutes. Though she did have to listen to your heartbreaking cries the whole way. She knew that since your car seat was rear-facing you couldn’t see her and that only made you more upset. She was talking with you the whole drive, a reassurance that she was still there and she wasn’t going to leave you.
The two of you finally arrived at the FBI building in Quantico, Emily parking the car and getting you out of your car seat. The second you were back in your mama’s arms, you let out the most cutest relieved sigh, hugging her tightly with your tiny arms. “Mama.”
Emily chuckled softly, gently stroking your hair as she rested your little head on her shoulder. “See? You’re back with Mama. Mama is right here, she’s giving you a big cuddle and everything is okay.”
Emily suddenly heard a familiar voice from behind her. “Hey, Em! What are you doing here?”
Emily turned around with a smile, recognising the voice of her very best friend, JJ. She was still soothingly rubbing your back, gently swaying you side to side. “Hey! Yeah… just here to pick up a case file. You’re leaving early?”
JJ nodded, running her hand through your soft hair. “Got to pick Henry up from daycare, poor thing fell off the swings.” She laughed softly as she saw your eyes closed, hugging Emily tightly and soaking up all the comfort of the cuddle. “She’s clingy today!”
Emily just rolled her eyes in mock annoyance, a smile on her face. “She won’t even let me put her down for a second, won’t let me pee, won’t let me have a shower, spent 20 minutes putting her in the car seat.”
JJ just smirked in amusement, giving you a tiny kiss on the cheek. “Ah, velcro-baby phase, Henry had it too. It’s irritating but it’s really sweet that all they want is you. She’ll grow out of it… though I do sort of miss it, as irritating as it is.”
Emily smiled, giving you a gentle squeeze. “I secretly love it, though I’d also love to pee in peace.”
JJ just smiled and gave your back a gentle rub. “Bye-bye, Y/N. See you on Saturday, huh? Henry’s already got all his toys out for you guys to play with!”
You gave JJ a small smile, unwrapping one of your tiny arms to give her a small wave goodbye. “Bye-bye.”
The three of you parted ways and Emily got her case file, driving back home. She had spent the rest of the day with you, giving you all the cuddles you had ever asked for, keeping you close. Despite the annoyance of not being able to put you down or leave you alone, she knew you weren’t going to be a baby forever and soon you wouldn’t want to be by her side every minute. For now, she’d just soak up all she could.
#daughter!reader#emily prentiss x daughter!reader#toddler!reader#emily prentiss x toddler!reader#criminal minds emily prentiss#emily prentiss#criminal minds#criminal minds fluff#emily prentiss criminal minds
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Ghost aftercare, König cuteness, TW: BDSM elements, TW: Collaring, TW: Dominant Behavior, TW: Groping (M/M), Sexual themes
Ghost is daddy. That is all lol
Reader POV:
Ghost’s aftercare had been a bit more thorough than you’d initially expected. As the heat of activity had slowly ebbed from your bodies, it wasn’t long before the tile felt unbearably cold against your skin. But Ghost had jumped into action and relocated you to one of the shower benches. He quickly grabbed your shower supplies before coming to sit beside you and letting you lean against him for much needed support. The hot water felt delicious as it rained down over you both, washing every ounce of soreness from your body. Your eyes fell closed as he gently ran your soapy loofa over your skin. All you heard was the sound of the shower and Ghost whispering soothing words of affection in your ear. Those two things were what your mind clung to as you faded in and out of slumber.
At one point, you remember feeling his nails pleasantly massaging your scalp as he washed your hair. There were only a few moments where the coiled texture caught around his fingers, trapping them for a second or two. But he was a quick learner and seemed to adapt to your hair’s character soon afterwards.
Ghost chuckled at the soft whine you made when he stopped the shower’s flow. But it wasn’t long before a soft, fluffy towel enveloped your body in warmth once again. He patted your hair as dry as he could before scooping you up bridal style and carrying you to your room. You peered up at him as you went, giving him a shy and tired smile. And even though you’d just had the most intimate experience with him, his eyes flitting down towards you still made you blush.
“Look at you, snug as a bug,” he murmured. “Wore you out, huh?”
“A bit. But I don’t mind.”
There was an unmistakable spark of pride in his eyes. But he kept things calm and opened the door to your room.
“Let’s get you to bed, princess.”
Ghost tugged your blankets back before gently lowering you onto your bed. Though you were tired, your arms lingered around his shoulders and weakly tugged at him.
“Stay?” you begged, stifling a yawn.
“Don’t you turn those puppy eyes on me like that,” he sighed, lowering your arms to the bed and tucking you in. “I can’t. Not right now. But get some sleep. I’ll see you tonight.”
You nodded, letting your eyelids fall closed. “Thank you, Ghost.”
“No,” he ran his thumb across your cheek. “Thank you.”
--------------------
Sometime later, you awoke to a series of knocks on your door and then a familiar face peeking into the room.
“Aw, you look so comfortable,” König cooed, gently shutting the door behind him. “Mind if I join you?”
“Come on over,” you yawned and patted the mattress beside you. “I just needed a little nap.”
König kicked off his boots and crawled onto your bed, curling up beside you. The blankets were drawn up to your chin, enveloping you like a baby wrapped in a blanket. All he could see of you was the top of your head down to your nose. But he could tell by the way your eyes crinkled that you had a sleepy smile on your face.
He tucked your head under his arm, drawing you against his chest. “So, how did it go? Is he a good dominant?”
You nodded, peeking up at him. “Oh, he’s a dom alright. I think he’s gonna be perfect. How about you?”
“I wouldn’t know yet,” he laughed. “I haven’t been as intimate with him as you have yet. But I trust your judgment. I’m excited to see what he’s like firsthand!”
König toyed with your hair, absentmindedly patting your head as you continued to wake up.
“Are you excited to go to the club tonight? All the guys are really looking forward to a good time.”
“I can’t wait! Since all three of us will be there, it’ll be a great time to hang out as a group a bit, too. See how things feel with all of us together, you know?”
"Of course! I'm excited too," he said, leaning his head on top of yours. "I'm so lucky to have you, Maus. I love you so much. Thank you for allowing this."
You gave him a sleepy smile, rubbing the slumber from your eyes. "I love you too, babe."
A loud buzzing sound reverberated from König’s pocket, sending a gentle vibration through the bed. Your phone went off too, but you were happy to ignore it in favor of prolonged snuggles. He always felt so warm! But König pulled out his phone to take a look.
“Oh. Ghost just texted me. He texted both of us.”
You perked up a bit, immediately curious. “Really? What did he say?”
König turned the screen towards you so that you could read it yourself.
Ghost: I’ll be back at the barracks in half an hour. When I get there, I want both of you in my room. I want to talk.
“Ooooo. So mysterious!” You stretched and sat up in bed. “I wonder what he wants to talk about.”
König’s eyes also held a spark of anticipation as he grinned beneath his hood. “Me too.”
---------------------
A few minutes before he arrived, Ghost had issued additional instructions for both of you. He didn’t want you just milling around in his room unattended. So now, he'd added the condition that both of you sit on the floor before his desk chair until he showed up. König happily flopped down on the floor in a cross-legged pose, but you had a suspicion Ghost had quite a different posture in mind.
“I think he wants us to kneel,” you said, lowering onto your knees beside him. “I don’t know, it just feels like his thing.”
“Oh.” König giggled, repositioning to imitate your posture. “Like this?”
“Mmhmm! If you want, you can kinda bend your toes under you for support. But having the tops of your feet resting on the floor is fine too. I like having my knees together, but you can spread them too if it feels better.”
He cocked his head to the side in thought before adjusting a bit. After an experimental wiggle, he nodded with approval. “Okay, that feels nice. Thanks, Maus.”
“Of course!”
Just then, the door finally opened and all conversation ground to a halt ceased. You instinctively lowered your eyes to the floor and, when he saw you do so, König quickly followed suit. It was kinda cute that he looked to you for guidance. As a brand new sub, he had much to learn that you were excited to teach. But you were sure Ghost had plenty of ways planned to train him up, too.
Ghost’s footsteps thudded across the room towards the desk. The heavy silence hung in the air like fog as he settled into his chair, sizing up his captive audience. Though he reclined against the backrest, he still managed to make an otherwise lazy pose seem domineering and commanding. He towered over you, his shadow stretching out as if to swallow you whole. The toe of his combat boot tapped a steady rhythm against the floor as he plotted how he would proceed with his two new playthings. The movement filled your vision, mesmerizing you like a pendulum. Neither of you dared look any higher than his thighs, which were spread wide on the edge of the seat. The entire picture was reminiscent of a wolf baring its teeth and preparing to lunge. It was a threat display of sorts. And it was effective.
“First order of business,” Ghost's voice was low and blunt. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do this right. So, if there’s anything you don’t want me to do, now’s the time to speak up.”
After a pause, König tentatively raised his hand. And after receiving a nod from Ghost, he spoke in a small voice.
“I am willing to do this. And I can handle teasing. But please… do not make fun of my height. Or my shyness. That is all.”
Ghost grunted in acknowledgement. “Noted. Princess?”
You met his eyes, peeking up at him through your lashes. Seeing him staring down at you like that made you feel so small in all the best ways.
“Well, I’m open to a lot of things. But while I like the implications of stuff like knife play, I don’t actually want to be cut. So no permanent scars or marks, please?”
Ghost nodded. “Of course. I may be forceful or rough with you two. But my mission isn’t to harm you. It's to make you feel good in my own special way. Remember that. Anything else?”
When he was met with a prolonged stretch of uninterrupted silence, he was happy to take the floor himself.
“Good. I have a few ground rules myself. König, your girl already knows a bit about how I do things,” Ghost addressed König first, an audible smirk in his voice. “But just in case you get any ideas, let’s get you briefed too.
“When I ask you a question, you will answer me appropriately and with respect. Understood?” His torso shifted as he turned towards you. “Princess?”
“Yes, sir,” you said, voice barely a whisper.
“...Yes, sir,” König echoed, already beginning to blush furiously.
“Good. The only term I want to hear out of your mouths in reference to me is ‘sir’. ‘Master’ or ‘daddy’ are also acceptable, if they are more to your liking.” Ghost turned towards König with the last title he listed, taking note of the tiny whimper he’d made upon hearing it. “ ‘Ghost’ or ‘Simon’ are above your pay grade and will land you in trouble if you let them slip. Got it?”
You replied with your habitual answer. But before König could do the same, Ghost prodded him with a pointed taunt.
“Answer me, boy. Let daddy hear you.”
König visibly shivered at his words, responding in a breathy gasp. “Y-yes,... daddy.”
“Good boy,” Ghost purred, confirming his suspicion before continuing.
“Lastly. When you're with me like this, you are not in control. I am. You do not make demands and you do not give me orders. If there is something you desire, then you will ask. But you belong to me. Both of you. Every inch of your body, every corner of your soul? Mine to use as I see fit. With that said, you only touch yourself if I say you can. You only touch each other if I permit it. And no one gets off until I say so. Are we clear?”
Both of you replied in your appropriately chosen ways, fully submitted and surrendered. For a moment, Ghost just sat there reveling in the power he held over you. But shortly afterwards, he reached into the desk drawer and produced a small wooden box.
“Now that we all know our places, I have a little reminder for you. No matter the occasion or the context, you will not remove these without my direct permission.”
With a crook of his finger, he beckoned you over first. You inched forward on your knees, keeping your eyes on the floor. A firm hand landed on your shoulder to stop you once you knelt between his legs. When he grabbed your chin to slowly lift your gaze, he produced a small object from the box. It was a collar. It was minimalist and simple, easily passable as a mere fashion choice. Just a thin strip of thick, black leather. Each end bore a small golden loop. And dangling from one of them was a small, heart-shaped lock.
"I'm giving you this token of my own free will. And with it, I promise to care for, protect, and love you. I will do everything in my power to make you feel supported, nurtured, and owned. And by receiving it, you're promising me your love, obedience, and submission. Princess," Ghost hummed, momentarily breaking character to cup your cheek in his hand. "Do you willingly accept this collar and all that it represents?"
"Yes, sir," you whispered.
Ghost held your gaze, his eyes a mixture of possessiveness and adoration. This moment, this bond. It was everything to him. And looking into his eyes, you could see his steadfast commitment stronger than words could describe. Your breath quickened as he drew the strip of leather around your neck. The metal loops felt cold as he tugged it snug against your skin. He then produced a small key and fastened the two ends into place within the lock with a faint click. Just the sight of him shoving the key into his pocket afterwards made your stomach flutter with anticipation. You were his now. It was official.
In one fluid motion, Ghost lifted the bottom of his mask and pulled you into a searing kiss. He tugged you against him, his hand gripping the back of your neck as he claimed your lips with heated passion. And with what felt like great effort, he pulled away and left you a swirling flurry of emotions. When you snapped out of your daze, you saw that Ghost was silently pointing back across the room. And after you obediently retreated and resumed your submissive pose, it was König’s turn to approach.
He crept forward hesitantly, being careful not to put even one foot out of place under Ghost’s watchful eye. Seeing such a large man practically cowering before another was a rare sight. But König kept his head bowed, patiently awaiting Ghost’s permission to move any further.
Ghost tilted his chin upward and presented him with a collar of his own. His was markedly different from yours though. It was also black. But instead of leather, it was a thick, metal chain.
"I'm giving you this token of my own free will. With it, I promise to care for, protect, and love you. I will do everything in my power to make you feel supported, nurtured, and owned. And by receiving it, you're also promising me your love, obedience, and submission." Ghost toyed with the hem of his sniper's veil, letting his fingers brush against the bare skin beneath it. "You have much to learn, but I will enjoy training you. König? Do you willingly accept this collar and all that it represents?"
König bit his lip, nodding eagerly. "Yes, sir. I do."
He lifted the hem of his hood, giving Ghost full access to his neck. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed in anticipation. There was a brief flash of hunger in Ghost's eyes as he slipped the metal chain around his throat. The ends of his collar connected at the nape of his neck with a plain, silver loop. And it was much more prominent than your own, but still small enough to evade suspicion. The glossy links of the chain looked durable and strong. Resilient enough to handle a firm yank if required.
As if reading your mind, Ghost slipped his fingers beneath the corded chain and pulled experimentally. König jolted, whimpering loudly as the tension yanked him up onto his knees and tugged his face closer to Ghost’s.
Ghost’s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a low growl. “Don’t think I’ll be going easy on you because we're mates either. You gonna be a good boy for me?”
“Yes, daddy,” König was panting, his voice strained under the constriction of the collar.
“Who do you belong to? I want to hear you say it loud and clear.”
“I’m yours,” König gasped, moaning needily at his own admission. “I’m yours.”
Satisfied with the response, Ghost smirked. "Would you like a kiss too? Use your words."
"Yes, sir," he whimpered. "I would like that very much."
Ghost wasted no time giving his collar another tug and bringing his lips against his own. Their mouths clashed, tongues quickly dancing in a ravenous fight for dominance. But it was clear Ghost was winning. His hand dropped to König's hip, tugging him against his body before wandering to the crotch of his pants. Once there, he palmed König's groin, giving his growing excitement a gentle squeeze. The action earned a muffled moan of pleasure from König as he lost himself in the sensations. He hissed as Ghost grabbed his lower lip between his teeth, gently tugging at it before finally letting him go. König squirmed, desperate for the contact to continue.
“So excited for me already? Such a good boy," Ghost chuckled, licking his lips and eyeing König with increased interest. "I'll take care of that for you later tonight. But for now, back to your spot.”
König quickly shrank back, flushed and breathless as he knelt beside you again. You weren’t any better yourself. The brazen display was intensely erotic. You didn’t know how you would feel seeing König manhandled right before your eyes. But God, seeing Ghost make him whimper like that was an addiction you could see yourself getting used to very quickly.
“Now that everything is settled, you’re free to go,” Ghost said, standing and heading for the door. “I’ve taken the liberties of selecting your outfits for tonight's outing. You’ll find everything you require laid out on your beds. You will wear what you find there, nothing more and nothing less. As for how you will conduct yourselves, you may call me 'Ghost' tonight. But don’t take this as an opportunity to misbehave either. I’ll be watching you both. Step out of line and I’ll punish you accordingly the minute we're alone.”
After a synchronized response from the two of you, he walked across the room. As he went, you ventured a peek at him. His eyes slowly raked up and down your body before giving König the same heated attention. Evident hunger simmered beneath his gaze. A burning desire stoked hotter by the second. But he continued past you to the door.
"Oh," Ghost added, grabbing the knob. "And when we return, you're to meet me back here. I'm not done with either of you yet."
#konig call of duty#konig x reader#simon riley x konig x reader#simon riley x reader#call of duty smut#call of duty x reader#cod smut#ghost x reader#yhsiw#simon ghost riley x reader
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how I watch matches back when I’m recording for gifs
#ashleys talking again#‘NICE TITS’ is my favorite one sjdkfk#also the no context just ‘yummy’ 🤣🤣🤣#I just keep all notes in one doc on my phone and as I watch I roughly time stamp everything#so afterwards I know which moments to go back and select for gifs#most of the time I’m off by a few seconds since I have to look away to type but it helps me narrow it down after
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oh my god this pillow….
Edit: “it can’t be that bad” behold my horrors boy
Ancient pillow as fragile as mummified linen
#ra speaos#personal#listen I grew up Poor and Autistic so as you can imagine I got this pillow second hand as a kid and I’ve had it ever since#I only got a brand new pillow for the first time ever when I was like 18#but w aforementioned autism I couldn’t let go of my old pillow so I’ve kept it#today I took off its inner cover for the first time in years#(I KNOW ur supposed to wash it like every few months or whatever but like I’ve been using it as a leg support pillow#so it’s not like I have my face on it or anything)#anyways. point is this pillow is DISINTEGRATING#inside the inner cover it has another cover w a zipper and then the pillow itself. both are literally so thin poking it too hard breaks it#the cheap stuffing is all condensed together so at the very least it isn’t messy but like#guys it looks so sad and worn and I refuse to throw it out bc it’ll make me sad :(#besides the inner cover I’m washing now is fine and it’s one of those anti allergen ones so like. it’s fine. it’s fine guys.#aorjrbwhehsjwgshahda the most threadbare and worn pillow you’ve ever seen in your life: put me out of my misery#me. putting the cover back on: shushhhh I’ll reconsider in another 20 years
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Their Habits —♡ LADS Scenarios
—♡Summary: Everyone has habits, but not everyone enjoys having you point them out... —♡Tags: gender-neutral, pure fluff —♡A/N: Silly thing I whipped up after being told I bounce my leg too much lolll —♡ masterlist
—♡ Zayne
Zayne squints so much without his glasses. He insists he only needs them when his eyes get tired—but clearly—that wasn’t the case. “Zayne, look!” You eagerly pointed out a flyer posted on the door of his favorite boba spot. They were hosting an event next weekend, it read, and encouraged customers not to miss out on the opportunity. You watched his hazel eyes sharpen into a squint.
“Event…?” He still had trouble reading it, though, and absently tugged your clasped hands forward as he leaned in for a better look. After a few seconds, his eyebrows relaxed, and he hummed appreciatively, “They’re introducing new flavors. Perhaps we should…what?”
You failed to conceal an amused smile. “You need your glasses, old man.” The nickname was not received well, by any means.
“The text is small.” He answered coolly, “The average person would also have difficulty reading it.” Then he slipped his hand around your waist, eyes narrowing, “And I’m not old.”
You couldn’t help yourself, you laughed, “Have you considered contacts?” The look he gave you was deeply unamused, “No, no, you’re right. You look cuter in glasses, anyway.” Zayne's ears tinted pink under your playful stare.
“...Let’s go inside before they close.” You pinched his flustered cheeks.
“Are you sure? The menu is so tiny. What if you can’t read it and order the wrong thing?” Your mouth promptly shut after his grip on you tightened in a warning. Zayne remembered to bring his glasses on your next outing (and the one after that).
—♡ Sylus
Sylus hums nonsense when it’s too quiet. It’s like he constantly needs to fill silences with some kind of noise. Even his humming is off-key…
“What song is that?”
Sylus barely spared you a glance, “What song?” His fingers worked a microfiber cloth into the metal of his pistol.
“The one you were just humming.”
He huffed, “Didn’t realize I was humming, sweetie.” Then he removed the cloth to admire his handiwork, “Don’t you recognize it?”
You almost felt bad for saying this but, “...No?” Sylus finally glanced up from his work to shoot you a look. A concerning one.
“Really? You had it on repeat all day, yesterday.” Horror dawned on you at the realization, “The chorus has been stuck in my head since morning…” And then a laugh sputtered from your lips.
“Oh my god, that sounded nothing like it.” Sylus glared and returned his focus to his pistol with what you could only describe as a pout.
“What a picky kitten.” You bit your lip to stop the smile threatening to break loose. He was a god awful singer, but the room felt emptier without his noise. Gently, you padded over to where he sat, and invited yourself onto his lap. Despite his mood, a hand wrapped around your waist without hesitation.
“Sing it again.” Sylus’ hold on you tightened, “I think I like your version better.” A soft chuckle left him, and quietly, he hummed once more.
—♡ Rafayel
Rafayel taps. All. The. Time. Taps his legs, hands, pens, pencils, anything and everything within reach. And he’ll deny the hell out of it when you ask him to stop. “I wasn’t doing anything,” The candies on his phone screen lit up and exploded with color as he scored another combo. Too engrossed in his phone to realize the arm slung around your shoulders was still tapping you. You leaned into him with a huff.
“You’re doing it now.”
Rafayel gave you a sidelong glance, frowning, “I dunno what you’re talking about, cutie.” You suddenly captured his hand to still it, and Rafayel gave you the most scandalized look, “If you wanna hold it that badly, I’m not stopping you.”
“You’re not even aware you’re doing it,” You blinked incredulously, “Are you?”
Rafayel threw his head back and groaned dramatically, “Doing whaaat?” Then he lifted his head to press his forehead against yours and huffed, “Is this your way of telling me to get off my phone?”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “You look like a fish up close like this.” Rafayel pulled away to roll his eyes and clicked his phone off.
“Alright, fine, you have my attention.” Then he began tapping his foot, “You know, that’s a little offensive to say to a Lemurian. You could get cancelled for that.”
Your hand drifted to his bouncing knee, and you watched as both your hand and his leg now jumped up and down. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?!”
—♡ Xavier
Xavier is always chewing on something, and it is almost always never gum. It’ll be something random, like a straw from a drink he’d long since finished. The strings of his hoodie, a toothpick. Once, it was a plastic tie. He reminded you of a teething puppy; he’d probably chew on wires if you left him alone long enough. Today, though, his chew toy of choice looked a lot like…
“Xavier, is that my pen?”
He blinked, eyes floating from his comic book to your frown, “Yours…?” His jaw froze mid-chew.
“Yeah,” You scooted closer on the couch, “the one from my desk at work.”
A blush crept along his cheekbones, but he didn’t drop the pen like you expected him to, “...Are you sure?”
Your eyes fell to the pen trapped in the corner of his mouth, “The one with little stars on it? Yeah, that’s mine. I thought I lost it at work, why do you have it?”
The comic book shifted in his hands, “I found it, that’s why.” This explanation would be more convincing if he hadn’t shifted his gaze sideways. His blunt fingernails picked nervously at the corner of his book, curling the edges.
“Xavier,”
“Okay, I borrowed it.” You bit back a chuckle, and he guiltily removed the pen from his mouth. It shined with his spit, and the cap bore teeth marks, “You can have it back.”
You couldn’t hide your grimace fast enough, “...Actually, you can keep it.” Xavier merely blinked before bringing the tip back to his mouth. Then a smile curved the corner of his lips.
“My pen now, hm?”
#love and deepspace#lads#lnds#zayne x reader#sylus x reader#xavier x reader#rafayel x reader#sylus x you#zayne x you#xavier x you#rafayel x you#lads rafayel#lads sylus#lads zayne#lads xavier#lnds rafayel#lnds sylus#lnds xavier#lnds zayne#love and deepspace rafayel#love and deepspace xavier#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace zayne#rafayel love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#xavier lads#sylus lads#zayne lads
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⟢ LET THIS BE A REMINDER
presenting kinktober day 5 ➔︎ ghostface!rafe x final girl!reader
warnings: DUBCON !! primal play (predator/prey), knife play + carving/branding, blood + blood play, unprotected sex, creampie, spitting, choking, pussy slapping, spanking, degrading, praise, brief orgasm denial, threatening/blackmail 18+ mdni word count: 3.2k
A/N: i just want to say thank you to everyone who took the time to read my silly, slutty little fics. i came into kinktober highly nervous because this year is my first time doing it, but y'all have truly made this experience the absolute best !! i love you all so so sooo much, MWAH !!!
kinktober m.list ⟡ rafe m.list
you jerk awake, sitting up with your chest heaving frantically as you flip the switch of the lamp on your bedside table. the small white light illuminates the room, and you turn your head to look at the corner of your bedroom, only to find nothing. a sigh of relief leaves you, and your body starts to relax, knowing there is nothing in the room but you, “it was just another nightmare. you’re fine. he’s long gone; he can’t get you,” you tell yourself.
you pinch the bridge of your nose; there is no way you could fall back asleep now. you reached for your phone, swung your legs off the bed, and planted your feet onto the carpeted floor. you lazily strolled down the stairs to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. you leaned against the counter, lost in your thoughts, as you stared at the bottle in front of you, debating if you should take the medication you were prescribed last year to help you sleep.
you grabbed the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and took two into your mouth before swallowing them. the loud ringing of your phone startled you, and you reminded yourself that you were safe. it’s probably nothing you tell yourself when you see ‘No Caller ID’ displayed on the screen.
“hello?” you answer, holding the phone close to your ear when all you can hear is the sound of heavy breathing, “hello? i think you have the wrong number,” you huff, growing agitated. who would call you this late at night?
“you and your little friends got the wrong guy,” the distorted voice echoed in your ear. ”what are you talking about?” you stood up, straightening your posture, “don’t play dumb; you know what I‘m talking about.”.
“the man they arrested last year, topper thornton. he isn’t the killer. he never was,” the voice snickers, “he isn’t necessarily the most innocent man, but it’s not him.”.
“there was enough evidence against topper; everything pointed to him being the killer. i don’t know who this is, but how are you sure it’s not him?”. there was nothing but an eerie silence for a second until the voice spoke again, “because I’m the killer.”.
“really funny, asshole. if you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working. don’t you think I’m used to receiving countless prank calls? do me a favor and don’t call me again,” you snort.
a chill ran up your spine at their chuckle, “oh, my sweet little bunny…a prank call? is that what you think this is? this is far from a prank call,” they paused, “y’know, you look good in white, it makes you look so sweet and innocent.”.
your hands trembled, pulling the phone away from your ear to end the call. you let out a shaky breath, ‘it’s just some asshole trying to scare you,’ you repeat to yourself, pushing the thought to the back of your mind as you head back upstairs to your room.
you push your door open, your eyebrows knitting in confusion when you notice the light from your lamp is off. you turn the bedroom light switch on, and a blood-curdling scream erupts from within you at the sight in front of you.
there, on your mirror, was a message written in blood, ‘i’m coming for you next.’.
you’ve been on edge since the incident occurred a few days ago, especially after sheriff shoupe informed you that not only weren’t there any indications of a break-in, but they never found the threatening message you received. it had been wiped clean, almost as if the ghostface killer was taunting you; it was his way of telling you he was still in your home when you had made the call, painting it to look like you had gone insane.
when you brought it up to the pogues, they tried to give a reasonable explanation, “there was blood on the mirror! i’m not making any of this up,” you argued, noticing the pitiful looks on your friends’ faces. “don’t look at me like that, okay? i know what I saw,” you scoffed.
“we’re not saying we don’t believe you, but it doesn’t make sense. i mean, think about it. it’s been a year since the murders,” john b pointed out.
the pogues nodded in agreement, “john b is right, if it wasn’t topper, then why did the murders stop when he got arrested? if the killer is still out there, why wait a year to attack and terrorize again? i think it was just another brainless kook trying to scare you,” pope theorized.
“you need a distraction, and the situation is bothering you. so, i say we go to the fair,” jj grinned, his smile dropping when the entire group groaned, “come on, it’s halloween! besides, it’s not like any of you have plans.”.
the fair was filled with laughter as most people, along with you and the pogues, waited in line for one of the rides. you were pushed up against random people, easily overwhelmed by such a large crowd, and wanting nothing more than space.
you slip out of line, catching your friends’ attention, “where are you going?”.
“this line is insane, and it’s too overwhelming. i’m just going to walk around a bit,” you informed, only for pope to ask if you wanted one of them to come with you. “no, it’s okay. i have my phone on me, so one of you can call me whenever you’re off the ride,” you waved your phone in front of the group.
you continued wandering away from the group and stopped in your tracks when you came across the closed-off entrance to the haunted corn maze, which piqued your interest.
figuring it would be the best place to clear your head, you looked around, noting that no one was watching as you ducked under the rope to enter the maze. your shoes scruff against the dirt, the few dried stalks of corn crunching under your feet the further you made your way into the maze, the only source of light coming from the soft, yellow glow of the moon.
you tap on your phone's screen, grumbling to yourself when you realize the pogues won’t be able to reach you due to no longer having any signal.
you continue walking, wrapping your arms around your waist, stopping at the feeling of being watched. “you’re just being paranoid,” you mumble as you come across the path that now forked into two.
the hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the sound of rustling from behind, and you whip around, your eyes darting back and forth, frowning when you find nothing. you turn back around, your eyes widening, and a scream escapes from your throat at the sight of ghostface standing before you, tilting his head as he stares at you.
“told you i was comin’ for you,” his altered voice rang through your ears before he lunged towards you. you duck, barely escaping from his grasp, before running down the left path of the maze, “go on and run bunny! i like the chase!” he chuckles.
you could feel your heart pounding against your ribcage, knowing he was hot on your tail, your feet carrying you as fast as they could. turn after turn, you look behind you, “you can run all you want, but there’s nowhere to hide!”.
your lungs were on fire the faster you ran, your head turning to look in front of you, panic starting to kick in when you’re met with a dead end.
“dead end? gotta say it must be my lucky night,” he taunts, taking in your trembling form, “aw, you poor thing. are you scared? you should be, but that’s okay, i like ‘em scared.”.
all you could do was back away the closer he stepped forward until your back was flush against the corn stalks.
“i’m a bit disappointed. i like a challenge, and you made the chase far too easy,” he ridiculed, “i’ll tell you what, let’s make it interesting and play a little game. the rules are simple. if you manage to find your way out of this maze before i catch you, i’ll let you go…but if you don’t, let’s just say I finally get to have my way with you.”.
you can’t help but press your thighs together, craning your neck to the side, turning away from him, ashamed at the fact his words turned you on. “don’t you dare look away from me,” he sneered, his knife glinting in the moonlight as he gently traced it along your cheek to your chin, turning your head to face him again.
“answer me,” he commanded, the blood draining from your face when he moved the knife down your neck, nicking the flesh enough to break through the skin as he removed his mask, revealing himself.
“surprised, bunny?” rafe smirks, enjoying the stunned look on your face, his eyes fixating on the small drop of blood coming from the cut on your neck that he caused. rafe dips his head down, letting out a throaty chuckle as he licks at the blood. his tongue sweeps along your neck and up to your ear, biting at the lobe, “what do you say? do you wanna play a game?”.
you nod when he pulls away, not trusting your voice, “good girl, i’ll give you a head start…starting now,” he whispers, stepping aside.
it was almost embarrassing, yet sick, how turned on you were, your panties sticking to you as you took off running. you run, turning right, then taking a left turn, letting out a shriek as you trip over your feet when rafe’s arms wrap around your waist, causing you to stumble onto the ground.
“gotcha,” he grins, turning you on your back as he pins your wrists above your head with one hand. “you gonna be a good girl f’me?” he asks, running the blade of the knife down your chest as you gazed up at him, nodding, “yes.”.
he hums, slipping the knife underneath the fabric and using it to pull your shirt up to reveal your bare tits, “no bra, hm? dirty girl,” he tsks. he lightly presses the flat of the knife against your nipples, watching as they harden from the coolness of the steel. he releases your wrists, his hand traveling down to your hips, reaching for the hem of your skirt, pushing it till it bunches around your waist. you winced as he nicked your sensitive, soft skin, blood slowly trickling from the cut he made when he dragged the blade between the valley of your breasts.
“hmm, even with blood staining your skin, you still look fuckin’ pretty,” rafe purred, lowering his head. his tongue reaches out, flattening against your sternum to chase after the trail of blood. a small yelp leaves your lips when his teeth sink into your nipple, sucking the hardened bud into his mouth. he presses his knee to your clothed cunt, grinning against your nipple as he feels your hips subconsciously rut against him before pulling away, sitting back on the heels of his feet, and tauntingly dragging the knife lower and lower.
you squirm under him as the tip of the knife reaches the waistband of your panties, his eyes catching sight of the wetness seeping through them, “huh, would you look that? soaking right through your panties…you like this, don’t you? like the fact that the big scary killer is takin’ what he wants?”.
“y-yes,” you breathed, feeling him hook the blade under the waistband of your panties, “mm, that’s what I thought.”.
“could’ve done this a whole lot sooner if i had known a filthy little pogue like you would be into this shit,” he teased, the edge of the knife slicing through the flimsy material. he pulls the now-torn panties off your hips, tossing them aside, your thighs parting when he silently tells you to spread them, tapping the handle of his knife to your inner thighs.
he licks his lips, “gonna show you who owns this messy cunt by carving my name into your pretty skin.”.
a yelp travels up your throat, eyes welling with tears and screwing shut when the tip of his knife carved an ‘r’ and ‘c’ into the flesh of your hip. “there you go. all done and branded as mine,” rafe coos, leaning back to admire his work that was now permanently etched into your skin.
he brings the blade to your mouth, “taste yourself, bunny,” he orders, carefully pressing the knife onto your tongue when you open your mouth. he groans to himself, watching the blood from the knife coat your tongue. he cups your jaw, fingers pressing into your cheeks and spitting into your mouth, “atta girl,” he praises as you swallow.
rafe turns the blade of the knife towards him, running the handle up your inner thighs to your soaked cunt, and you suck in a breath when he teases your clit with it before bringing it back down to your slick folds. a gasp spilled from your mouth when he slips the handle deep into your cunt, your hips bucking as he slowly fucks you with it, pushing it in and out of your sopping cunt.
”oh–” you moan as he continues fucking you with the handle, moving it faster. his cock throbs, watching with a smirk as your head lolls back, “this needy little pussy will take anything I give it, huh?”.
you roll your hips in time with each thrust of the handle. “i asked a question,” rafe gritted his teeth, earning a squeal from you when he gives a harsh slap to your cunt, his ring catching against your clit.
“yes!” you cry out, your legs starting to shake, and you clench around the handle. rafe lands another slap on your cunt, abruptly halting the movements of the handle and pulling it from your cunt, knowing you were on the verge of your orgasm. “n-no, why’d you stop?” you whined, jutting your bottom lip out to pout up at him, making him suck his teeth and shake his head, “should’ve been a good girl and answered me the second i asked a question.”.
your lips quiver, tears filling your eyes in frustration, “p-please, rafe. i’ll listen and be a good girl, i promise.”.
“p-please, rafe,” he mimicked, “you want it that bad? beg for it, then…beg for it, and i’ll make you scream so loud that the entire fuckin’ fair can hear me ruining this needy pussy.”.
“please, rafe. I need you…please fuck me,” you pleaded, looking at him with glassy eyes. “now that wasn’t so hard, was it, bunny?” rafe rasps, tossing his knife a few feet away onto the dirt. your eyes flicker to his hands working his belt, watching him shrug his pants and boxers down his thighs. his hard, thick cock sprung free, slapping against his stomach, and his hands settled on your waist, pulling you with him as he lays flat on his back onto the ground of the corn maze.
“go on. take what you want and fuck yourself dumb on my cock,” he grins, gripping the base of his cock, teasingly running the thick head along your slick folds, enjoying the way you writhed above him. his hands grab your hips, your pussy stretching around his cock as he pulls you onto his length. your palms lay flat on his chest, steadying yourself as you move your hips, moaning softly as he palms your tits, rolling and pinching your hardened nipples between his fingers.
the air is filled with the noises of your ass smacking against his thighs as you bounce yourself up and down his cock, “yeah…just like that,” rafe groans. his hand reaches up, grabbing your throat to pull you down, capturing your lips in a sloppy, wet kiss. you squealed when he rolled the two of you over, pulling out before flipping you onto your stomach.
your back arches as he shoves your face down onto the ground, giving him a perfect view of your glossy cunt. his fingers intertwined with your locks of hair, pushing on the side of your head, making your cheek press further into the dirt.
his large hands glide up the curve of your ass, “such a sweet little ass,” he hummed in approval. your body jolts forward when his palm comes in contact with the fatty flesh, “but it’s not as sweet as your perfect little cunt.”.
“rafe, stop teasing–” you whine out, a sharp gasp cutting you off when his cock slams into you in one harsh thrust. he grips your hips to keep you still, snapping his hips into yours, “so fuckin’ tight.”.
his lips part, watching the way your pussy swallows around him, sucking him in deeper. you squirm under him, your nails clawing into the dirt beneath you as he pounds into you, “this little cunt is nothin’ but a hole for me to use, isn’t that right?”.
“please use me–” you hiccup, pushing yourself back against his dick, “y’know I can’t say no when you’re acting like a little cock-hungry whore,” he chuckles, his grip on your hair tightening, tugging at the roots. you feel the thick band of his belt wraps around the front of your throat, gasping when your head is pulled back harshly, “knew you’d fuckin’ like this…could feel you dripping down my balls,” rafe chuckles.
your pussy squelches around his cock as he relentlessly pounds into your drooling cunt, the pleasure overpowering the pain of the leather of his belt digging into your neck. he yanks your head back even further, his belt tightening around your throat, your back flush to his chest, “look at you…you’re either sick in the head for letting a murderer fuck you, or your pussy is so fuckin’ desperate for some dick.”.
he slips his hand around your waist to your stomach and feels his cock bulging in your lower abdomen, “feel that? feel how deep i’m in your guts?”.
you thrash in his hold as his palm presses down against the bulge in your belly, his cock rubbing against your walls with each harsh thrust. your brain goes blank, your head spinning, and nothing but incoherent words fall from your lips as his tip repeatedly hits your cervix, “what was that, bunny? oh, right…that little brain of yours can’t form a single thought as I’m fuckin’ you dumb, huh?”.
“s’okay, i know what you need,” he purred, “c’mon, be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”.
your walls flutter and squeeze around him, eyes rolling into the back of your skull, your legs trembling and ready to give out. your hands grasp his arm around your waist, crying out his name as you come all over his cock.
rafe holds you steady as your body goes limp, his cock pounding into your abused cunt, “gonna stuff this pussy full of my cum, and you’re gonna take every single drop.”.
rafe’s thrusts become sloppy, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck as his cock twitches. his hips falter, giving you one more thrust; he pushes himself deep inside you, groaning in your ear as his thick ropes of cum spill into you.
your chest heaves, panting for air when he releases his belt from around your neck. his thumb caresses the initials of his name that he had carved into your flesh, “let this be a reminder that i own you. if you try to tell the cops that you know who the real killer is, i won’t be as nice next time”.
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no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.
simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.
that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?
he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.
it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.
he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.
the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.
your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.
he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.
‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’
the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.
“promise me something?”
“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”
“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”
he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.
“yes.”
“promise.” you urged. “please.”
he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”
you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”
“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”
he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.
fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.
his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.
“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.
he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.
he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.
he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.
he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.
“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”
“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.
“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”
“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”
“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”
“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.
“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.
“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.
simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simons a loverboy at heart#simon is not ghost
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What if...?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight dom! Bucky. A little angst.
Summary: Bucky navigates his insecurities and guilt from his past as he grows closer to his new neighbor, a nurse.
Word Count: About 8.4k.
She knew exactly who he was the first time they bumped into each other when she ran toward the stairs of her apartment building, and he suddenly emerged from them, lost in thought. He wasn’t wearing his gloves, and the glint of metal was pretty noticeable when he reached out to grab her elbow to prevent her from falling backward. The touch was brief, since he retired his hand promptly when he was sure she would not fall, his blue eyes revealing something akin to regret.
“I… I’m sorry,” he stammered, his voice low and gravelly as he retracted his hand, tucking it into his jacket.
“Oh, don’t be,” she responded, the corners of her lips lifting just slightly as she waved her hand dismissively. “I should’ve been more careful. The elevator’s out, and I was in such a hurry… ugh. We always tell the kids not to run in hallways and stairs because accidents can happen, and here I am-" She cut herself off, realizing she was rambling, and gave an embarrassed smile. “Anyway… hi. I’m Y/n, I just moved in yesterday.” She extended her hand.
He reached out, his grip firm but gentle. “James Barnes, but most people call me Bucky.”
Her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, and as she straightened her nurse uniform, she bit her lip. Handsome. The cute wrinkles that creased the corners of his striking blue eyes, were the kind that hinted at a man who had both smiled and seen more than his fair share of hardship, and it was hard not to notice. His body, the epitome of perfection. She mentally slapped herself for staring. “Well, Bucky, I’m running late for work, so I need to go, but I’ll see you around. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
He nodded, watching as she hurried down the stairs, her uniform swaying slightly with her steps. He stood there, rooted to the spot for a moment longer than he should have, replaying the soft smile on her lips.
The days after that encounter passed in a blur of awkward run-ins. Each time, she greeted him with the same soft smile, and each time, Bucky found himself lost in thoughts he hadn’t allowed himself in years.
It started with a polite nod, maybe a smile here and there, but soon, their brief encounters turned into casual conversations. Small talk about their days, the weather, even little jokes about the state of their shared building. He found himself looking forward to those moments, however fleeting they were, because it felt so easy to exchange a few words with her, how her laughter always seemed to come just when he needed to hear it. He’d often catch her gaze lingering on him a second too long before she looked away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks and it was enough to make him wonder if maybe, just maybe, she felt the same pull that he did.
Then, one evening, as they both stood waiting for the elevator, she quirked a brow at him. "You know, Bucky," she started, her voice light, "if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were following me."
He blinked, caught off guard, but the playful glint in her eyes made him relax. He let out a small chuckle. "Well… I could say the same about you." She laughed, and once again, the sound made him feel almost normal.
His therapist had been telling him for months that he was isolated, and that he needed to socialize, form connections. She had even suggested dating, but every time he tried, it hadn’t gone well. The interactions felt awkward, forced, and he often found an excuse to leave early, or worse, sometimes he didn’t even bother with an excuse, just walking out of there without a word.
There was something about Y/n that set her apart, mostly the ease with which their conversations flowed. He wasn’t the type to talk much, often keeping things curt and to the point, but she had this way of making the silence between them feel comfortable, never pushing him to share more than he wanted. He didn’t have to try so hard to keep up with standard appearances. But the pull toward her wasn’t just about feeling comfortable, he wanted her. He caught himself watching her more often than he’d like to admit, she was exactly his type, soft and curvy in all the right places. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to touch her, to run his hands over her body, feel her warmth beneath his fingertips. But every time he got close to asking her out, fear crept in, locking the words in his throat. Fear of rejection, of being too damaged, of her seeing the parts of him he was ashamed of. It always stopped him.
Tonight felt different, though. There was something in her playful approach that made the fear feel less suffocating, less overwhelming. The elevator doors opened, and as they stepped inside, Bucky turned to her, his heart hammering in his chest. He could barely believe he was about to do this.
"Y/n?" he asked, his voice lower than usual.
She glanced at him, her eyes curious. "Yeah?"
He swallowed hard, feeling the moment's weight as he stood before her, and almost panicked. This wasn’t something he was used to. He could fight in gruesome battles, survive impossible odds, flip a fucking armored truck with a tug of his arm… but asking someone out? That felt like a whole different battlefield. It was terrifying in a way those other things weren’t.
For a moment, he almost backpedaled. His mind scrambled, desperately searching for something else to say, some way to deflect his intentions and change the subject. But nothing came. He was stuck. He’d already opened his mouth, and there was no way to retreat now without looking like a fool.
Taking a deep breath, he jumped.
“Would you like to grab dinner with me sometime?” The words came out gruff but honest. For a second, doubt crept in, making him wonder if he’d just made a mistake.
Her eyes widened in surprise before lighting up, a smile spreading across her face that eased the knot on his stomach. “Oh, I’d love to. It’d be fun to do something outside the building for a change. We run into each other so much, that I actually thought about asking you to hang out, but you always seemed rushed, like you couldn’t wait to leave. I’m glad that’s not the case.” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “You know, we can be neighbors and friends. There’s nothing in the building rules against it.”
Bucky blinked, his heart sinking at the word friends. He forced one of the practiced, uncomfortable smiles his therapist suggested. Friendzoned -a term he’d only recently discovered- wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but he hadn’t spelled it out, either. Of course she thought he was just trying to be friendly, he hadn’t given her a fucking hint of his real intentions. He hadn’t flirted, hadn’t made even the slightest move to swoon her.
The old him would’ve had no trouble conveying his interest. He would’ve been smooth and confident, knowing exactly how to charm her and make his intentions clear. But he wasn’t that guy anymore. He hadn’t done this in decades, and the rules seemed to have shifted in ways he didn’t fully understand. Hell, he had shifted. He sighed.
"Uh, Y/n?" he started, his tone careful and tentative. She looked back at him, her eyes curious. "I just want to be clear," he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, "I meant it... as a date. Not just neighbors or friends grabbing a bite."
For a moment, she didn’t respond, still processing what he had just said. His words hung in the air, heavy with significance. And then, something clicked. A blush crept up her neck as her smile turned more thoughtful. He wanted to spend time with her not because they lived in the same building or happened to bump into each other, but because he was interested.
"Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realize… I mean…” she stumbled with her words, “I didn’t know you meant it like that." She has had her fair share of men in her life but being honest with herself, in a million years, she wouldn’t have guessed someone like him would be asking her out. Not Bucky, the quiet, handsome, brooding neighbor with the sharp jawline and the weight of a thousand untold stories in his eyes. For months, she had brushed off the little moments between them as neighborly interactions, nothing more. It had been easier that way. Safer, maybe. But now, standing here, the truth of his intentions was undeniable.
He waited, his expression still calm, but the vulnerability in his eyes was unmistakable. She almost laughed at herself, the absurdity of it all. Of course, she had noticed him. How could she not?
Her smile softened, "I’m glad you clarified." she finally said, her voice quieter now. "And yeah, Bucky. I’d like that, a lot."
Bucky gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, as if he’d been holding his breath and had just now allowed himself to exhale. A faint smile crept onto his lips, one that actually reached his eyes, softening the hardened edges he usually carried.
"Great," he murmured, his voice low but warm. "I’ll, uh, figure something out."
They shared one last look before the elevator doors opened, and as they stepped out, Bucky’s heart was still racing, but this time, it wasn’t from fear.
The first date had been simple, almost quiet in its ease. He brought her flowers, a small, hesitant gesture that made her eyes light up. They went to a bistro and talked about life, interests, and the kind of things you only share when you feel a certain sense of safety with someone. Bucky never said more than necessary, but she learned to read the way his eyes softened when he listened, the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when she said something that caught him off guard. It was easy and comfortable as their previous interactions, and yet, in the back of his mind, there was always the whisper: do you even deserve this?
The second date was at the small café on the corner of their building. There had been more laughter this time, the conversation flowing easily. As they sat across from each other, their knees brushed under the table. It was subtle, almost unintentional, but the warmth of the touch lingered. It happened again, and neither of them moved away.
They walked back in silence, a comfortable quiet settling between them, though there was an undeniable charge in the air. As they reached her door, she turned to face him, and for a moment, the space between them felt heavier, thick with the weight of everything unsaid.
His hand hovered just near her lower back, not quite touching, but close enough that she felt the warmth of his body through the fabric of her dress. For a brief second, she thought he might pull her closer to break that last sliver of space between them, but he didn’t. His hand lingered for just a moment longer before falling away, his expression betraying a flicker of hesitation.
Bucky’s gaze dropped briefly to her lips, his brows furrowing slightly, before he looked away, almost as if chastising himself. His old-fashioned upbringing, perhaps, held him back and kept him from making the move she half-expected, the one she wanted.
“Goodnight, Y/n,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than usual. His tired eyes lingered on hers just a little too long, as if he were still debating, still fighting the pull to act on the desire he was clearly feeling.
She nodded, trying to ignore the flutter on her chest and to respect his boundaries, even though her hands itched to reach for him, to pull him closer and start what he wouldn’t. “Goodnight, Bucky,” she said softly, her own voice betraying the emotions swirling beneath the surface.
They stood there for a heartbeat longer, the short distance between their doors now feeling like miles. He gave her a small, almost hesitant smile, then turned toward his own apartment, the quiet between them somehow louder now.
By the time the third date approached, Bucky’s nerves were starting to get the better of him. He didn’t want to ruin this. The cocky Sergeant Barnes -the man who hadn’t yet turned into a walking nightmare- would’ve laughed at him. That version of himself had been bold, self-assured, the type of man who could sweep a woman off her feet without a second thought. He’d have taken the lead with ease, knowing exactly how to handle the situation. But that man was long gone, buried beneath the weight of all he had done, all he had become.
Before leaving for the date, he poured himself an imperial pint of asgardian ale. Just enough to give him a buzz, to take the edge off. Standing there, glass in hand, he caught his reflection in the window and sighed. Could she see it? The darkness? The scars left behind from being Hydra’s puppet? And even if she didn’t... how long until she did? You don’t deserve this, the voice whispered again, unrelenting.
That night, after dinner, they found themselves in her living room, two untouched coffee cups growing cold on the table beside them. The dim light softened the space around them, creating an intimate cocoon that made their conversation flow effortlessly. Yet, beneath the easy chatter, Bucky’s doubts lingered. He couldn’t shake the feeling that any move forward could shatter the delicate balance between them.
He’d been raised with a sense of propriety, a rhythm to follow when it came to courting. There was a dance to it, an unspoken set of rules about when to advance and when to hold back. The trouble now was figuring out how much to let himself move forward, how far to let this go before the weight of his past dragged him under again.
As their conversation naturally ebbed into silence, he noticed her gaze flicker to his lips, lingering just a bit longer than usual. His pulse quickened. She was giving him a sign, even if she hadn’t meant to. For a brief moment, he hesitated, but the look in her eyes, the quiet anticipation, and the ale still running through his system urged him forward.
He leaned in slightly, their knees brushing, the warmth of her body drawing him closer. His hand hovered near her arm, and she responded getting closer, her lips parting ever so slightly as if inviting him in without saying a word.
Slowly, deliberately, he closed the distance between them, his heart pounding in his chest. The kiss was meant to be soft and chaste, but all restraint flew out the window the second their lips touched.
His hand slipped to the small of her back, pulling her closer, the kiss growing hungrier, more urgent, as if months of longing were unraveling in that single moment. With a gentle, almost teasing flick of his tongue against her lower lip, he urged her to open her mouth. She complied, her lips parting as she allowed him in, and things turned molten. His tongue slid against hers, and the heat between them spiraled when she let out a quiet, breathless moan. The sound sent a jolt of desire pushing him further. His metal hand remained firm on her back, pulling her as close as possible, while the other slipped into her hair. She responded eagerly, her fingers gliding up his chest and tangling in his now messy bun, tugging him closer as if she couldn’t get enough. The kiss was all-consuming, urgent and messy, as months of tension finally broke free. Eventually, they slowly pulled apart, heavy breaths mingling in the charged air between them. His gaze dropped to her lips, now swollen and flushed from their activities, and he felt the undeniable pull to dive back in.
Then he noticed it. His vibranium hand had slid down to her waist and was gripping harder than he intended. Much harder. He swallowed and looked at it, the realization sinking in. His hand, still gripping tightly, could harm her. He sighed, frustration and self-reproach tugging at him, unable to find a balance between his longing and his fear of hurting her.
She caught the sigh, her eyes following his downward gaze until they landed on his hand, still gripping her waist. And then it clicked, she understood. It wasn’t just the pressure of his hand; it was everything behind it. The strength he was constantly aware of, the control he had to maintain, the fear of hurting someone he cared about without meaning to. It wasn’t just about this moment, it was about everything he carried with him.
Instead of pulling away, she did the opposite. She shifted slightly, pressing closer into his hand, her body language reassuring him. With that small gesture, she was telling him she trusted him, she wasn’t fragile, and she wasn’t going to break. He didn’t need to hold back with her.
He exhaled softly, and a question bubbled up, one that had been lingering in his mind for far too long. “Have you ever thought how things would have been if we had met under different circumstances?” His voice was quiet, almost tentative, the weight of the topic heavy in the intimate space between them.
Her brow furrowed slightly, curiosity piqued. “Different how?” she asked, leaning in a little, her eyes searching his.
Bucky took a breath, his gaze drifting again as if he were caught somewhere between the past and the present. “I mean… if I hadn’t been…” He trailed off for a second, a shadow crossing his expression. “If I didn’t become what I am. If I’d been just… me.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as though speaking the words out loud might break something fragile between them.
She stayed quiet, giving him the space he needed, her hand gently resting on his arm, a subtle reassurance.
“I think about it sometimes,” he admitted, his eyes still distant, fixed on a point somewhere beyond her. “If we’d met before all the... before everything.” His lips pressed into a thin line, guilt flickering behind his blue eyes. “Maybe in another time, I could’ve been just a guy. Someone who didn’t have…” He paused, his metal hand still against her back. “Someone that wouldn’t have been so messed up. Someone normal and approachable.”
Her heart clenched at the weight of his words. “Bucky…” she started, her voice soft, but he shook his head slightly as if to wave off her sympathy.
“I don’t know,” he continued, quieter now. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve…” He cut himself off, jaw tightening.
Without hesitation, she entwined their fingers, squeezing gently. “You do deserve this,” she said firmly, her voice unwavering as she met his gaze. She wasn’t going to let him retreat into the dark place where his self-deprecation lived. “You deserve to be happy, Buck. You’re a good man.” She sighed and shifted beside him, her head resting back against the couch as she considered his previous words and then an idea popped up.
“Let’s see… if I had been born before 1920, I’d probably still be a nurse.” Her lips curved into a small smile as she looked at him sideways, eyes gleaming in the dim light. She watched him closely, seeing how he would react, her heart thumping just a little faster as she waited. “I’d have enlisted to work in a field hospital. And… who knows, maybe we could have met there when you were serving.” She let the thought linger in the air, light and playful, hoping it would lift the heaviness that had settled between them.
Bucky’s brows lifted slightly, and he tilted his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He shifted closer to her without even realizing, his hand still resting lightly on her waist. “You would’ve been responsible for making sure I was fit for duty,” he mused, his tone a little lighter now as if the idea of an alternate history didn’t seem so bad. “Keeping an eye on me, seeing my injuries, maybe even patching me up yourself.” He added with a playful edge, allowing himself to immerse in the scenario.
She grinned, shaking her head, eyes twinkling as she imagined the scene. “Oh, from what I heard about you, I doubt you would have visited the hospital very often, Sarge,” she teased, nudging his knee with hers playfully, a grin tugging at her lips.
Bucky chuckled, the sound low and genuine, as his thumb began tracing slow, soothing circles on her back, a gesture she was growing fond of. “Probably not,” he agreed, leaning in slightly, his voice dipping into something softer. “But I would’ve noticed you from afar. Even if I had no reason to be there, you would’ve stood out.”
“Oh? Why’s that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. Her fingers absentmindedly brushed the back of his hand, a smile playing on her lips as she waited for his answer.
Bucky glanced down at their intertwined hands, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against her softer ones. He looked back up at her, his voice steady, but with a hint of something deeper. “Because you’re beautiful,” he said simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
She blinked, caught off guard by the casual sincerity in his tone. “Beautiful, me? Pfft!” She laughed softly, with a playful spark in her eyes. “But... now that I think about it, pin-up girls were a thing when you were serving, weren’t they?”
Bucky leaned back into the couch, pulling her with him, his arm wrapping firmer around her waist, a slow grin forming at her words. “Yeah, well, nurses were definitely included in the ‘interesting’ category too,” he teased. His eyes flicked down, tracing the curves of her body as his hand tightened slightly around her waist, making her feel self-conscious. “Especially ones with curves like yours.”
She let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head, but before she could say anything, Bucky continued, his voice lower now, a bit more serious. “You’d have been popular among the guys in camp, you know. They’d have been lining up, falling over themselves to get your attention.” He paused, his gaze flicking back to hers. “But trust me, I would’ve noticed you first. And I wouldn’t have let anyone else have a shot.”
Her cheeks flushed as she tucked her legs beneath her, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh, so you would’ve asked me out?” she teased, her curiosity bubbling to the surface as she edged closer to him, her eyes locked on his.
Bucky turned slightly toward her, the hand resting on her arm sliding down slowly, his fingers brushing her skin in soft, teasing strokes. “Oh, I wouldn’t have just asked,” he said with a smirk. “I’d have made sure you had no reason to say no.”
She felt her heart quicken at the subtle heat in his voice, the playful edge giving way to something more intense. Her breath hitched slightly, and she bit her lip as she gazed up at him. “Is that so?” she murmured, her voice soft, a bit more serious now. “And how would you have done that?” She leaned in a little, her shoulder brushing against his, her warmth radiating into the small space between them. “How was the game back then? Brought flowers? Invited me to dance?”
“Both, probably,” he murmured, his hand now resting on her thigh, his thumb grazing the fabric of her dress in slow, deliberate motions. “Flowers, because they’re classic... and dancing, because it’s intimate.”
“Well,” she whispered, her voice softer now as she leaned her head toward him, lips just inches from his ear, “I guess I would’ve let you court me, Sarge. Tell me about a date with you.”
Bucky’s hand tightened slightly on her thigh, the pressure just enough to make her heart race. His stubbled cheek brushed against hers as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin. “Saturday night,” he whispered, his lips barely grazing the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, “dinner at the Officers’ Club, followed by a slow dance... and then back to my quarters for a proper goodnight kiss.”
Her breath hitched, her pulse quickening as the warmth of his breath and the weight of his words settled between them. She could feel the tension thickening in the air, her voice trembling slightly as she teased, “Only a kiss?”
Bucky smirked against her skin, his lips hovering near her ear. “Maybe more than just a kiss,” he rasped, his voice low and full of promise, “but only if you wanted it too.”
She arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Hmm, I dunno, Sergeant Barnes... things were done more properly back then, right? No sex before marriage, and all that stuff?”
He let out a low chuckle, his hand already inching higher up her thigh, the heat of his touch sending shivers up her spine. “You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, his voice taking on a teasing edge. “I would've waited until our wedding night…” His hand slid beneath the fabric of her dress, fingers grazing the soft skin of her thigh. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have thought about it. Every. Single. Day.” He leaned in again as he whispered. “How you’d look... how you’d feel... imagining all the ways I’d finally get to touch you.” His breath was warm against her skin, the words heavy with tension.
“Is that so?” she murmured, her fingers sliding up his chest, gripping his collar just enough to keep him close. “You think you could’ve waited?”
His hand tightened again on her thigh. “I would’ve tried... but I don’t think you would’ve made it easy.” Bucky’s playful tone faded into something more serious, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “Would you have let me… let me have you like that?” His words carried a weight that made her heart race.
She swallowed, her fingers gripping his shirt tighter as she looked up into his eyes, feeling the pull of him in a way that left her defenseless. “I-” her voice faltered, her pulse racing, but she managed to find her words. “Yeah, Bucky... I would’ve.”
Bucky’s metal hand, firm but tender, climbed from her waist tracing a slow, deliberate path up her spine. He then reached for the little buttons at the neckline of her dress, his touch both careful and bold as he unfastened them, one by one. Each undone button revealed more of her skin to his darkened gaze, and the way he looked at her made her feel exposed in a way that went beyond the physical. “I would’ve taken care of you,” he murmured, his lips brushing her collarbone. “Made sure no one else got close to you.”
Her body leaned instinctively toward him, craving the closeness as her free hand ran up his arm, her fingers tracing the firm muscles beneath his shirt. “No one else would’ve mattered,” she whispered.
With a swift, deliberate motion, the hand on her neckline slid down and snaked behind her, grasping her ass and pulling her fully into his lap. She gasped as her hips pressed against his, feeling exactly how much he wanted her. “Every night,” he growled, his voice rough with need, “I would’ve made sure you were mine.” His eyes were ablaze with raw desire as his grip tightened, holding her firmly against him.
Her pulse raced, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and his mouth crashed into hers in a searing kiss. His other hand slid higher up her thigh, teasing the edge of her underwear, fingers brushing the soft skin. A soft moan escaped her lips, muffled by the kiss, and when he broke it, his lips found the curve of her neck.
“So only one kiss, huh?” she chuckled in a breathed tone, her voice trembling with anticipation as her hips instinctively rocked against him.
Bucky inhaled deeply against her skin, trailing hot kisses down toward her chest. “Well, I would've kissed you every chance I got but believe me, that wouldn’t have been enough...” His words were thick with promise, his breath hot against her skin. He pressed his arousal harder against her, his hand slipping between them, fingers tracing her slick heat over her underwear. The breathless gasp that escaped her was all the encouragement he needed. “… that wouldn’t have been fucking enough.” he whispered against her skin, his voice low and filled with hunger, as his fingers moved with purpose, leaving no doubt about what he wanted.
She bit her lip, her voice soft but laced with playful intent as she fed into the fantasy they were weaving. “Well, if we had ourselves a little house with a white fence, I’d have waited for you to come home every day in a frilly apron,” her eyes locked onto his, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as she added, “with nothing underneath.”
The image she painted made Bucky’s breath hitch, his grip tightening around her ass. His eyes nearly rolled back, his imagination spiraling into wild possibilities. “Damn.” His voice was laced with lust. “If I could’ve had you waiting for me like that,” he murmured, his hand gripping her tighter, fingers digging into her skin as his restraint began to falter “I’d have come home early every damn day just to take advantage of you.” His lips brushed the swell of her breasts, the heat between them spiraling as his imagination ran wild, and he pulled her impossibly closer while teasing over her soaked panties.
Her gaze flicked from his lips back to his darkened eyes. “Oh yeah?” she challenged, her voice a sultry whisper. “Right there on the kitchen table?”
Bucky’s smirk deepened, the raw desire in his eyes nearly swallowing her whole. “Hell yes, right there on the kitchen table,” he growled, his vibranium hand gripping her ass harder, possessively. “I’d bend you over it, flip up that little apron, and bury myself inside you until you screamed my name for the whole damn neighborhood to hear.” He confessed without a hint of remorse or shame.
Her body reacted instantly, hips pressing hard against the teasing hand hovering over her clothed pussy. A soft whimper escaped her, the sound almost desperate. His hand answered her need by slipping her panties aside, his fingers slowly sinking into her heat, stretching her with deliberate, agonizing precision. The sensation sent a shudder through her, her body arching into his touch.
She let out a shaky breath, her playful tone faltering as her body betrayed her. “How kinky,” she managed to tease, biting her lip as she met his gaze, her voice barely steady under the growing pressure inside her.
Bucky inhaled sharply, savoring the way she responded, his hand moving with more purpose now. “Kinky enough to have you blushing for days,” he growled, his teeth grazing up to her jawline before dragging his lips slowly up to brush against hers. His fingers kept sliding deeper inside her with slow, deliberate strokes. “And when the milkman came the next morning…” The hand on her ass squeezed the supple skin harder, pulling her even close against him, while the other continued its relentless torment between her legs. “...you’d be so sore from the night before, you wouldn’t even be able to stand straight. Couldn’t look anyone in the eye without blushing, remembering just how loud you screamed.”
She blushed at his statement, totally immersed in the fantasy. “That sounds… so good, Buck.” She managed to say, her voice trembling with want. She bit her lip again, locking eyes with him and starting to ground herself shamelessly against his fingers, the pressure building quickly inside her. “But... would you only fuck me at the kitchen table when coming back? What about… other creative places? Like the back porch, under the shade of the bindweed?...”
Bucky's eyes closed as her suggestion sparked a flood of heated thoughts. “Hell, yes," he growled, his voice deep and gravelly, thick with desire. He pushed his fingers deeper inside her, his thumb circling her swollen clit, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. “I’d lift that sexy little apron right up, spread your legs wide open, and fuck you right there under the bindweeds," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear, each word laced with promise. "And you'd moan my name, scream it, while everyone else thinks we’re just having a quiet afternoon tea."
The combination of his filthy words and the relentless pressure of his fingers sent her body trembling with anticipation, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. "Bucky…" she moaned softly, her hands tightening their grip on him, desperate for everything he was giving her. Her hips bucked uncontrollably against his hand, her breath hitching as his fingers curled inside her, hitting just the right spot and sending waves of pleasure radiating through her body. The pleasure built inside her, tightening, coiling until every nerve in her body felt alive.
Bucky felt the signals and growled, his fingers moving faster now, each stroke deliberate and calculated as his forehead pressed against hers, his breath coming out in ragged bursts. “I’d had make sure no one could ever touch you the way I did,” he muttered, his voice low and possessive. "Every inch of you, mine." He punctuated the last words with hard, rhythmic rubs at one side of her clit and that was all she needed for the climax to hit her, a wave of intense pleasure crashing through her. Her moans turned into soft cries as she buried her face on his neck, her body trembling violently as his hand continued to work her through it, prolonging her ecstasy.
When her body came down from her high, still trembling from the intensity, Bucky slowly withdrew his fingers. Panting, she looked at his gaze and saw the raw, unbridled desire burning in his cobalt eyes. Without hesitation, she leaned in, her lips finding his stubbled jaw, trailing soft, hungry kisses down his neck, nipping and sucking against his skin while her hand wandered lower and lower on his abdomen, finally unbuttoning his pants with deliberate slowness, venturing inside his underwear.
The moment her fingers brushed against his cock, he tensed and groaned. “W-wait,” he rasped, his voice thick with need and restraint. His hand held hers firmly, keeping her from going further.
Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, her lips still hovering near his neck. “Why?” she murmured, her voice low but steady. “I want to make you feel good too. You deserve it, Bucky,” she whispered, her words full of tenderness and desire. Her fingers twitched beneath his grip, her intention clear.
Bucky let out a low, shaky breath with a hint of frustration. He knew he had to come clean. “I want it too, trust me,” he muttered, his voice low, strained. “But it’s been so long... too long. If you touch me now…” He trailed off, swallowing hard, the unspoken words hanging in the air. “Let me lead,” he whispered, his voice thick with promise. He leaned in to kiss her, deep and slow, pouring all the pent-up desire into the kiss.
She sighed softly, pulling back just enough to reach for the hem of her dress, slipping it over her head in one fluid motion. The fabric lifted away from her body, leaving her sitting in only her bra and panties as the dress was tossed to the side of the couch.
Bucky’s gaze darkened as he took her in, his hands instinctively roaming over her bare skin. But then he groaned again softly, almost painfully, his fingers pausing as his grip tightened around her waist. “What happened to let me lead?” he rasped; his voice thick with restraint.
Her breath hitched at his words, her lips parting as if to respond with a half-hearted apology, but before she could, his hands were already sliding down her body, reclaiming control. His fingers traced her bra straps, slipping them off her shoulders with excruciating slowness. “I need to do it my way,” he murmured, his voice a low growl as he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “If you don’t behave... this ends before we even begin.”
The meaning of his earlier words hit her then, her body stiffening as realization dawned. He wasn’t just leading to take his time with her; he was fighting to keep from losing control, from coming right there in his pants. Her teasing grin faltered, replaced with a softer expression. “Oh,” she whispered, her voice quieter now, laced with understanding. “I didn’t realize…” Her fingers gently grazed his cheek, guilt creeping into her tone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.”
Bucky tensed slightly at her touch, inwardly cursing himself for letting his vulnerability slip. His masculine pride stung. Great job, Barnes. Way to cool the mood. He forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers in an attempt to brush off the tension. “It’s alright,” he muttered, but the strain in his voice betrayed him. His fingers dug into her hips just a little, grounding himself. “I just... got worked up faster than I expected.” He exhaled shakily, trying to ease the tension. Then he started to move.
As his fingers worked at the clasp of her bra, his touch slow and deliberate, he broke the silence with a low murmur, his voice thick with desire, yet laced with a hint of vulnerability. “You know… I liked you from the moment we bumped into each other on the stairs,” he said, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. “I still remember the way you looked at me, even after I knocked you off balance and grabbed your arm. No gloves, metal hand out in the open… but you didn’t flinch.”
She smiled softly at the memory, her breath hitching slightly as the tension between them simmered. When her bra fell away, his gaze dropped to her exposed breasts, and a low groan rumbled in his chest. His flesh hand cupped her gently, his thumb brushing over her nipple in a slow, teasing motion.
“I loved how your uniform looked on you then,” he continued, his voice growing huskier as his metal hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer. “I still do. Every time I see you in it, it makes it hard to focus on anything else.”
His thumb continued its slow teasing, but then his expression shifted, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. His voice dropped, a hint of regret slipping into his words. “I wish I’d asked you out sooner. The old me… he would've handled this better. Would’ve known exactly how to...”
She cut him off before he could finish, her eyes fierce, her fingers threading through his hair as she pulled him closer. “Stop,” she said firmly, her voice soft but unwavering. “The moment of ‘what if’ has passed. I don't want the man you used to be.” Her lips brushed against his jaw, her breath hot against his skin. “I want you. Not someone I never knew.”
He closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them fixing his gaze on hers. She wasn’t looking for the version of him with the effortless charm and swagger. She never did. She wanted him, baggage, scars, and everything else.
A slow, shaky breath escaped him, his grip on her tightening as a flicker of vulnerability passed through his eyes. “You don’t know how much that means,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, his lips brushing against her jaw, then down to her neck. His movements were soft at first, but as her hands gripped his shoulders, urging him on, the hesitation melted away.
His mouth found hers again, kissing her hard, his hands moving with more confidence again. “I’ve wanted this... you,” he rasped, his breath hot against her skin. “For so damn long.” She responded with a moan, her body arching into him as he took full control.
Bucky groaned, unable to hold back any longer as the tension between them reached its peak. He gently shifted her off his lap, laying her down on the couch, his hands lingering on her hips for a moment before he stood. His breath was heavy, and though his chest tightened with familiar insecurities, especially about his arm, he pushed forward.
His fingers moved to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. As the fabric fell to the floor, his eyes darted to her face, half-expecting some flicker of hesitation or doubt. Instead, her gaze roamed over him, dark with desire as her eyes took in the hard lines of his chest. “Damn... you’re perfect.” Her voice came out breath and soft. Swallowing hard, Bucky quickly slid his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, kicking them aside. Now fully bare before her, he stood there, his chest rising and falling as her gaze lingered on him. He could see her eyes focused on his size, her lips parted as she let out a soft, breathless sound. The way she looked at him -no hesitation, only hunger- made his insecurities, the doubts about his scars, his arm, everything, to retract to a far corner of his mind.
Without a word, he climbed on top of her, positioning himself between her legs, their bodies pressed together, heat and tension coiling between them. His hands trailed down her sides, gripping her hips firmly as he pulled her closer. Slowly, he guided his cock to her slick entrance, teasing her folds as he coated his shaft with her wetness. A low, rumbling groan escaped his lips as he playfully rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit, the pressure sending jolts of pleasure through her.
Her body reacted instantly, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she writhed beneath him. “Bucky…” she moaned softly, her hips tilting up toward him, her body aching for more.
He moved slowly, sliding inside her inch by inch, and paused as soon as he was fully sheathed, giving her a moment to adjust. Her body clenched tightly around him, a gasp escaping her lips as her nails dug into his shoulders. Her breath came in shallow, uneven bursts, the sensation of him filling her completely overwhelming her. The tight heat of her body had him teetering on the edge, but he held back, determined to give her time.
He pulled back slightly, then pushed forward again, slowly and deliberately, testing her response. Her breath hitched, her thighs trembling around his hips with each thrust. She bit her lip, her eyes fluttering shut as she struggled to find her breath.
“Fuck, Bucky,” she whispered breathlessly, her voice barely audible but heavy with surprise and awe. “You’re… big. I’ve never... God!”
Her words sparked something deep within him, the mixture of vulnerability and pleasure igniting a fire he could barely contain. A low growl rumbled in his throat as his control began to slip. His hands moved to the back of her thighs, gripping them firmly just beneath her knees, then in one swift motion, he lifted her legs, spreading her wider as he started to thrust deeper, hitting spots that made her eyes fly open, a strangled moan escaping her lips. “Bucky… oh my God,” she gasped, her voice trembling as she struggled to take all of him.
Encouraged by her reaction, Bucky picked up the pace, his thrusts growing harder and faster, losing himself in the haze of lust that overtook him. He pulled her thighs higher, spreading her wider, driving into her with relentless force. Each thrust was deeper and rougher, and her moans quickly turned into desperate, breathless cries of pleasure.
The sound of her moans, the way she cried out his name, only fueled him further. “You like that?” he growled, his voice low and ragged as he thrust into her again, deeper, harder. Her slick heat gripped him tighter with every movement, making his pulse race. “Look at me, Doll. You like it rough?”
Her body arched beneath him, her hands scrambling for something to hold onto as the intensity of his thrusts tore through her. “Yes! Bucky… fuck! Don’t stop,” she moaned, her voice breaking as he kept his relentless, punishing pace.
“Oh, I won’t stop,” he growled, pulling out of her with a slick sound, only to flip her over onto her stomach in one swift motion. His hands gripped her hips roughly, pulling her ass up and positioning her on all fours before she had time to catch her breath.
Before she could process the shift, Bucky slammed back into her, filling her completely. She gasped, her fingers clutching at the couch cushions as he drove into her from behind, his pace unrelenting. “Is this what you wanted?” he rasped, his flesh hand sliding up her back before grabbing a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back slightly as his hips pistoned against her, thrusting deep and hard.
She let out a scream of pleasure, her body trembling as he pounded into her. “Yes! Oh God, yes,” she cried, her voice hoarse, her body helpless under his rough control.
Bucky grunted with each powerful thrust, his grip on her hair tightening, his metal hand digging into her hip, guiding her back onto him. The angle allowed him to go even deeper, kissing her cervix with every push of his hips. Her moans only spurred him on, the rhythm of their bodies frantic and primal, skin slapping against skin.
He released her hair and grabbed both her hips, yanking her back onto his cock with force, losing himself in the haze of lust. “Come for me,” he growled, his hand coming down on her ass with a sharp smack, making her gasp.
Before she could recover, his hand slid between her legs, his fingers finding her clit. He circled it with firm, deliberate pressure, his voice rough as he leaned over her, thrusting deeper still. “I want you to come all over me, Doll.” The moment his fingers found her swollen nub, her body responded, hips bucking involuntarily as her breath hitched. The pressure building inside her hit its peak, and with a loud, desperate moan, she shattered beneath him, her body trembling violently as she came hard.
The feel of her tight, wet heat spasming around him was too much for Bucky to handle. He let out a guttural moan, his hips slamming into her as his own release took hold. “Fuck,” he growled, his voice ragged as his body tensed, and he came hard, spilling thick, hot spurts into her. His hips jerked involuntarily with each wave of pleasure, the intensity of his orgasm hitting him harder than he’d expected. He gasped, his forehead falling to her back as he rode out the aftershocks, his cock pulsing inside her, still surrounded by the tight, wet heat of her body.
The sound of their heavy breathing filled the room, the intensity of their release leaving them trembling, their bodies slick with sweat. Bucky stayed inside her for a moment longer, his fingers lazily circling her clit, drawing out her pleasure as her body continued to spasm beneath him. But as the haze of bliss began to fade, his mind started to catch up with his body, and a flicker of doubt crept in. Had he been… too much?
Slowly, he withdrew from her, the cool air a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies. His hand slid up to her shoulder, gentle, almost tentative. “Are you okay?” His voice was low, uncertainty laced in every word.
She turned her head slightly, her cheek pressing into the cushion as her hooded eyes found his. “I’m better than okay,” she murmured. “That was... perfect, Buck.”
He exhaled, feeling the tension in his body ease, but his mind refused to quiet. What if she was trying to play it cool after being on the receiving end of nearly 80 years of pent-up frustration?
Sensing his unease, she shifted, sitting up on the couch. Her hands cradled his face, her thumbs gently brushing against his skin. He looked almost miserable for someone who had, minutes ago, been nothing short of a god of intercourse.
“You didn’t hurt me, Bucky,” she said, her voice firm yet warm. “I meant it when I said it was perfect. Stop overthinking. It was the best I’ve ever had.” Her cheeks flushed as she realized the weight of her words, but she didn’t back down. “I mean it,” she added, her voice softening as her gaze dropped for a moment, the blush deepening. “It really was the best I’ve ever had.”
The tension in his body slowly began to melt away as he absorbed her words, a flicker of relief washing over him. His breathing steadied, and the storm of doubts in his mind started to quiet. He looked down, feeling a pang of guilt for letting his insecurities creep in. Running a hand through his messy hair, he shook his head.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice low and sincere. “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment. I just... I get in my head sometimes.”
She gave him a gentle smile, her fingers brushing his scruffy cheek again. “You didn’t ruin anything, Bucky, not even close. If anything, the only thing you’ll have to atone for... is setting the bar pretty high.”
Bucky’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile as her words sank in. He exhaled deeply, feeling the weight on his chest finally lift. Without saying anything, he reached up, his hand gently cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing softly over her skin in a silent gesture of gratitude.
They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. The silence between them wasn’t empty; it was full of understanding, unspoken promises, and the certainty that, somehow, they were exactly where they were meant to be.
Dividers by: @strangergraphics
#bucky barnes x curvy!reader#bucky x curvy!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky smut#bucky barnes fic#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#fatws bucky#bucky barnes fanfic#the winter soldier x reader#winter soldier x female reader#winter soldier fanfiction
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Doctor Reid
PART 2 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST
Established Relationship Your boyfriend finally agrees to indulge in your fantasy by playing a very different kind of doctor, but on his own terms.
Content: (18+) 4k, roleplay, lingerie, finger sucking, nipple play, fingering, female oral, edging, soft!dom as per usual and him being what you guys like to call ‘a little shit’ a/n: season 12 Spencer can stay between my thighs all day every day. also, i have no knowledge on any medical terms this is just ✨vibes✨
10:34 AM
The box was heavier than you’d expected. It had been weeks since you’d ordered it—weeks of wondering if this would even get here without some awkward explanation. You’d agonized over every little detail, scrolling through pages of different costumes, wondering which stethoscope looked the most real.
And now it was finally here.
You didn’t waste a second. Your fingers worked quickly, ripping through the tape and cardboard until the contents spilled out. A crisp, folded white coat with perfectly pressed lapels and a stethoscope. And it was a real one, with cool metal tubing that felt heavy and authentic in your hand. Everything looked even better than you’d imagined.
You barely took the time to fold back the box flaps before hurrying to the next room, where your boyfriend sat comfortably on the couch, idly thumbing through a book.
“Spencer!” Your voice practically sang in excitement. “It’s here!”
He glanced up and lowered his book. "What's here?"
You grinned, bouncing on your toes as you closed the distance between you. "The doctor is officially in," you declared, holding up the white coat like a trophy, the stethoscope dangling from your other hand.
You watched as realization dawned across his face as he blinked a few times, processing the items in your hands, before letting out a soft, amused huff.
"Wow," he said slowly. "You really went all out."
"Of course I did,” you affirmed, grinning from ear to ear as you held the coat up to his chest, sizing him up as though he were already playing the part. “And it’s perfect.”
He leaned back into the couch, trying to put some distance between him and your infectious enthusiasm. “You know I’m not much of an actor.”
“Baby,” you drawled out, emphasizing the pet name with that affectionate tone you knew worked like a charm on him. It was the same sweet voice you used when you wanted something, the kind that could coax just about anything from him. “You’re not trying to win the Oscars, it’s sex. I promise you’ll like it.”
He shook his head like he was the most put-upon boyfriend in the world, letting out a mock sigh of exasperation, though the faint smile playing at the corners of his lips betrayed him. He closed his book and set it aside.
“Fine, I’ll do it,” he said at last, dragging the word out as though it physically pained him to say it. “If we do this on my own terms.”
“Your own terms? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ll see. And,” he reached out, pinching the collar of the coat between his fingers. “I’m not wearing that.”
You pouted. “What, you don’t want to look like a real doctor?”
“I think I can pull it off without the costume.” He flashed you a smile. “I’m technically still a doctor.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Your multiple doctorates don’t exactly qualify you for this, Doctor Reid.”
“I thought having six degrees would be enough for anything.”
“Too bad none of them is needed now,” you shot back, poking a finger at his chest playfully. “The role I’m thinking of requires a different kind of expertise. More…” You paused, pretending to mull it over, “Hands-on. Less theoretical.”
The laugh he let out was short and incredulous, his eyebrows raising as if he couldn’t believe your persistence. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”
You sighed dramatically. “Babyyyy.”
“You know, one of these days that tone isn’t going to work on me.”
“Oh, please, you love it,” you taunted, leaning in closer. “And don’t act like you’re not curious about this.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head, weighing the pros and cons, debating just how far he’d let you push him. And then there it was, that spark in his eyes. Faint but undeniable—the one that told you he was already half convinced, even if he pretended otherwise.
“Alright, fine,” he finally conceded. “I’ll play along.”
The grin you wore was at least a mile wide as you shoved the stethoscope into his hand.
1:52 PM
“Okay. I’m ready.”
Spencer looked up from his stack of papers, and as soon as he saw you standing there, dressed in nothing but lacy lingerie that clung to every curve, his mouth fell open. He blinked, trying to process the sight. Because yes, while you looked incredibly sexy, he was still baffled.
“Since when does a patient wear... that?"
You stepped closer, letting his eyes follow your every move as you shrugged with a hint of feigned innocence in your smile. "Well, I thought I'd save you some time, you know? Make it easier for your examination."
"Mm-hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, tapping a finger against his desk. "I'm not so sure this is standard procedure. I think you might be bending the rules here."
"Maybe. But I'm sure Doctor Reid can make a special exception, right?“
You shifted slightly, arching your back just enough to draw his attention. His eyes dropped to your chest, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat as he noticed the way your nipples strained against the sheer, barely-there fabric of your lingerie. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile, but it broke through anyway. A slow, knowing grin spread across his face.
“Of course,” he finally replied. “I think I can be persuaded.”
With that, he leaned forward, sweeping his documents to the side in one smooth motion, before patting the now-cleared space on the desk in front of him.
“Take a seat, Miss,” he said, his voice turning low and authoritative that lit a spark of excitement inside you. “Let’s get started.”
You bit your bottom lip, fighting back a grin as the cool wood of the desk pressed against the backs of your thighs. You watched Spencer stand up and slip between your legs, his hands finding your knees and spreading them just enough to close the distance until the heat of his body was flushed against yours.
“So, tell me,” he started, his voice lowering as he fell into the role. “What seems to be the problem today?”
A flutter of nerves danced in your stomach, and suddenly you were very aware of what was happening. You’d initiated this—had begged for it, even—but it was something entirely different now that Spencer was towering over you. The confidence you’d felt earlier wavered for just a moment as his palms ran slowly up your thighs.
“I, uh,” your voice faltering slightly as his hands continued their slow journey. “I… I haven’t been feeling well.”
His fingers brushed lightly against the frills of your lingerie, teasing the lace between his fingers as he maintained eye contact. “Any symptoms I should know about? Dizziness? Shortness of breath?”
You nodded, heart pounding in your chest as his thumb traced small circles over the fabric. “All of the above.”
“I see.” His eyes flickered down to your lips. “Can you open your mouth for me?”
Slowly, you parted your lips, and the moment you did, Spencer’s hand came up to your chin. He tilted your head back gently, exposing the graceful line of your throat.
“I’m going to run a few tests now.” He paused, his thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip. “It might feel intense, but I need you to stay relaxed and follow my instructions. Can you do that, Miss?”
You nodded as best as you could, mouth still open, and he gave you a small, approving smile.
“Stick your tongue out for me, just a little bit.”
You followed his instructions, extending your tongue just far enough to meet his touch. His eyes gleamed with focus as he brought his thumb to your mouth, pressing it lightly against your tongue.
“Hm,” he hummed, his eyes still fixed on your mouth like he was about to make a serious diagnosis. “I think I might be starting to see the problem here. But I need to check one more thing. Can you close your mouth around my finger?”
You complied, your lips wrapping around his thumb, feeling the rough pad of it pressing down on your tongue.
“Good,” he sighed, the approval in his voice like a reward in itself. “Now try giving it a gentle suck.”
You could feel the tension rising in you. Your cheeks hollowed as you did what he asked, and you couldn’t help but think back to the hesitation in his voice earlier, the way he’d claimed he wasn’t sure about this, that he wasn’t good at playing roles. You would’ve laughed if your mouth wasn’t occupied.
But you were an obedient patient, after all. You started sucking lightly, feeling the weight of his thumb resting against your tongue. There was something undeniably arousing about how he watched you, eyes heavy with focus, and that steady weight of his finger as he pretended to assess your reaction.
The first rush of arousal made itself known between your legs. You gradually increased the pressure, and before you knew it, you were bobbing your head. But just as you fell into a steady rhythm, his hand tightened on your chin to stop you.
“Just as I suspected,” he murmured after a moment, pulling his thumb away slightly to speak. “You’re suffering from an acute sensitivity.”
You swallowed, eyes wide as you played along, trying to keep your composure despite the heat pooling low in your stomach. “Is… is that serious?”
“I’ll need to do a further examination to understand the extent of your condition,” he mused, his eyes flickering between your face and your body as if assessing you before he straightened up slightly. “Let’s check your vitals now.”
He reached behind you, fingers brushing your lower back as he grabbed the stethoscope that had been sitting on the desk all day, the one you’d practically begged him to use. His expression turned serious, as though he were truly diagnosing you, and he leaned in close, pressing the flat side of the stethoscope against the pulse point on your neck.
“Deep breaths,” he instructed softly. You inhaled sharply, feeling the tension coil tighter in your chest as the cool metal made contact with your skin. “Your heart rate is definitely elevated.”
He moved the stethoscope lower, brushing it along your collarbone, before pressing it just above your heart. You felt the thump, thump, thump of your pulse echo through the metal.
“Definitely fast,” he noted. “We might need to find out what’s causing such a reaction.”
And before you could respond, without warning, he moved the stethoscope lower, pressing the cold metal against your nipple. You let out a soft, involuntary moan as the sensation caught you off guard.
“Ah,” he muttered, tilting his head as if he were genuinely analyzing your response, his thumb grazing the lace-covered peak around the stethoscope. “I think we’ve found one of the pressure points.”
You watched as his fingers trailed up to the edge of your lingerie, dragging his knuckles along the lace before he tugged the fabric down, letting your breast spill free. Without a word, he pressed the stethoscope directly against your bare nipple. The sudden contact made you jolt, your back arching as a quiet whimper slipped from your lips, and your nipple hardened instantly under the cold metal.
“Heightened sensitivity to stimuli.” He moved the stethoscope in small circles. “Very, very responsive.”
His eyes flickered down as he used his free hand to tug down the other side of your lingerie, exposing your other breast. You tried to keep your cool, tried to pretend like his touch wasn’t turning you inside out, but it was getting harder by the second. And God, he knew it. The way he played with your other nipple, rolling it slowly between his thumb and forefinger like he had all the time in the world, was enough to make your thoughts scatter.
You tried so hard to keep your composure, but then he gently pinched and tugged on your sensitive nub, and a soft, breathy whine escaped your lips before you could stop it. With a satisfied grin, he pulled away.
You blinked, momentarily dazed. “What—?” you breathed out. “Why did you stop?”
“Medical procedure,” he said simply, his tone so casual it almost made you forget the heat of his touch moments earlier. “It’s important to give the patient time to stabilize.”
You shot him a bewildered, almost exasperated look that said are you serious right now? But he just smiled that slow, self-assured smile of his. He was clearly enjoying this far too much.
“We’re doing this my way, remember?”
You huffed in mock annoyance. “Really? That’s how we’re playing this?”
He brushed his lips on your shoulder. “That’s how we’re playing."
5:22 PM
“Doctor Reid?”
Spencer glanced up from where he was pouring himself a cup of coffee. He raised an eyebrow, casually stirring a hefty amount of sugar, the spoon clinking softly against the mug. “Hmm?”
The coolness of the counter pressed against your back as you watched him. “I think it’s getting worse.”
He didn’t say anything right away, just let his gaze rake over you, taking note of the way the thin fabric of your lingerie clung to your skin.
“Worse, how?” he finally asked, setting his mug down.
“It’s… spreading.”
“Spreading?” He mused. “Where, exactly?”
“Everywhere.” Your fingers nervously toyed with the hem of your lingerie, lifting it just enough to show a glimpse of bare skin beneath. “I really need your help, Doctor.”
His eyes immediately zeroed in on the sliver of skin you revealed. You watched as the realization flashed across his face. The corner of his mouth twitched as though he was fighting back a satisfied smirk, and you knew then that he’d taken the bait—he had to confirm just how bare you really were.
“Come here,” he ordered softly. He stepped back from the counter just enough to make space. “If it’s spreading, I have to conduct a full-body assessment.”
You slowly made your way to him with shaky legs.
“Up,” he instructed, giving the counter a gentle pat before letting his hands settle on your hips. “Sit.”
The cool marble touched the backs of your thighs as you hoisted yourself up. Then, without warning, Spencer’s hands were on your legs. He grabbed your calves, and before you could even catch your breath, he maneuvered your knees apart, placing the palms of your feet flat onto the countertop.
His eyes dropped between your legs, and the sight of you completely bare, your pussy lips glistening under the dim light, confirmed what he’d suspected. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as he took in every detail, the way you were flushed, open, and dripping.
“Is there a reason,” he began slowly, his voice dropping to that dangerously soft, detached tone. “Why you’re not wearing anything underneath?”
“I… I thought it might make the examination easier.”
He smiled. “How considerate.”
Then with painstaking slowness, Spencer used both thumbs to part your folds, spreading you open completely to his gaze. It was almost clinical, the way he did it, as if he were studying you like some fascinating experiment. And it was working. You could feel the heat of embarrassment rushing in your veins. God, he had you spread open like this in your kitchen counter, and all you could think was how absolutely shameless this was.
He took his time, of course. Because why wouldn’t he? Spencer Reid didn’t rush experiments. No, he would spend all the time in the world analyzing, learning, committing every detail to memory. And right now, that focus was on you. He dragged his fingertips through your arousal, spreading it leisurely over your folds like he was testing its consistency, as if that slick heat was something he could measure and quantify.
And all you could do was hold your breath.
“I have to say,” he started again, his voice low and taunting as his fingers slid back and forth slowly, grazing just over your entrance without actually dipping inside. “You’re overly lubricated. Are you always like this?”
You exhaled a long breath, trying to steady the rapid rhythm of your heart. “Y-Yes.”
Spencer's smile deepened, his gaze never leaving your face as he pressed just a bit harder, testing your reaction. “Interesting. Do you get this wet from just a little touch, or does it have to be… more?”
“J-Just a little,” you admitted, hips instinctively shifting toward his fingers.
“Mmm,” he hummed approvingly, and finally—finally—he let his finger slide just inside your entrance, only to stop right there, buried to the first knuckle. He didn’t move any further. “Is that all it takes? Or do you need more to truly feel the effects?”
“I...” You let out a whimper when his finger twitched inside you. "M-More."
“And how much more, exactly? One finger? Two?”
“Two,” you gasped, every coherent thought slipping away under his touch. “Two… Doctor.”
A satisfied smile tugged at his lips, and without another word, he obliged, slipping a second finger inside you. The stretch made you bite back a moan as you felt every inch of him dragging against your inner walls. You couldn’t help the way your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, pulling him deeper as your slick arousal coated every thrust.
“You’re even more responsive than I thought,” he noted, adjusting his angle to brush against that sensitive spot inside you. “Your partner must enjoy this… a lot.”
He was playing his role all too well. Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter as his speed picked up. "He... He does," you breathed out. "He—he loves it."
Spencer hummed thoughtfully. "Good," he said softly, almost as if to himself. "Because this is a very special condition that requires a great deal of attention. And I'm sure that you need all the attention you can get, don't you?"
“Yes,” you sighed, nodding frantically as the pleasure built in steady waves. “I… I need it.”
"I thought so. Patients with your symptoms typically respond very well to intensive treatment."
With that, his fingers began to thrust deeper, faster, harder. The sensation of his long fingers stretching you had you moaning as you felt every drag, every inch while he continued to work you open. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more intense, he pressed a thumb firmly against your clit.
“Oh, fuck.”
He circled your swollen nub in slow, delicious patterns, and your body clenched around his fingers. This was it. You could feel it. The way your pulse pounded in your ears, the heat pooling deep in your core, every sensation building higher and higher. You could feel that sweet, sweet edge approaching, so close you could practically taste it—
And then he stopped.
Everything. Stopped.
“Spencer!”
He didn’t flinch, didn’t rush to soothe the ache in your body. He simply slid his fingers out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing.
“Open your mouth.”
You parted your lips, and he slipped his fingers inside, letting you taste yourself. The mix of your own slick and the heat of his skin made you moan softly, your tongue swirling around his fingers
“You see, you can be very responsive,” he commented in a low, measured tone. “But I think we should take a break, rushing the treatment would only compromise the results.”
He said it like it was the most reasonable thing in the world, like he wasn’t purposefully doing this to drive you insane. You wanted to laugh, and you did. But it was a defeated, breathless sort of laugh around his fingers, because you knew the man settled between your thighs still held all the power over you.
08:56 PM
“Babe?”
He laughed softly, not even glancing up from the book he was reading. “No more Doctor?”
You ignored the amusement in his voice as you walked up to the bed where he lay sprawled out, so casually composed, flipping another page like he hadn’t spent the entire day driving you mad. You reached the edge of the mattress, shadow casting over him, and his eyes finally flicked up to meet yours.
“I wanna cum.”
Spencer’s smile widened, the kind that made your stomach flip with both excitement and irritation, and he placed the book down beside him. His hand reached out lazily to brush your thigh.
“Yeah?” he drawled, tilting his head to the side. “Does my sweet girl want to be taken care of?”
You nodded eagerly. “Please.”
“Well, I do like it when you ask nicely,” he muttered, one hand sliding up to grip your waist. “And you’ve been very patient all day.”
“I have.”
“I think you deserve it.”
“I do.”
He let out an amused laugh. “Alright, lay down on the bed.”
You didn’t hesitate. You quickly shifted, lying back against the pillows. Spencer’s hands were on you immediately, gripping your thighs and dragging you toward the edge of the mattress. The room spun for a moment when he settled onto his knees. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, his fingers squeezing your calf as he pressed a soft, teasing kiss against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
“Comfortable?”
You nodded, and just as the breath left your lungs, his fingers brushed against the slick, wet folds of your pussy. He traced the outline of your lips gently, gathering the moisture that had been building all day.
“Poor baby,” he cooed sympathetically, his breath ghosting over your wetness. And just when you thought you couldn’t take another moment of teasing, he pressed his tongue flat against you and licked a long strip from your entrance to your clit.
A desperate whine escaped your lips. “Please…”
Spencer didn’t miss a beat. He licked another long, languid strip to your clit, swirling his tongue around it before flattening it again, dragging slowly just to savor the way you trembled beneath him. One of his hands gripped your thigh firmly, keeping your leg steady over his shoulder, while the other slid underneath, lifting your hips closer to his mouth.
And when he finally wrapped his lips around your clit again, pulling it into his mouth with a gentle suck, a choked moan tore from your throat.
“Spencer,” you whimpered. “Oh god…”
The vibration of his low groan reverberated through you. His fingers gripped your thighs tightly, holding you open and pinned beneath him. You weren’t sure what was more overwhelming. The sensation of his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit or the wet, obscene sounds of him slurping against your soaked folds. Either way, it was driving you wild, pushing you closer and closer to that edge where everything blurred and all you could do was feel.
And then his tongue shifted, dipping lower to probe your entrance. He pushed inside, exploring, seeking, like he was determined to reach every possible inch of you. And damn it, it felt like he could. Each thrust and twist of his tongue sent a surge of delicious heat through your body, and you couldn’t help the way your thighs trembled against his shoulders, squeezing him tighter.
You could barely breathe as the tension coiled tighter, so fucking tight you thought you might snap. And he knew it—he could feel it, the way your walls clenched around his tongue, the way your thighs trembled against his shoulders. And still, he didn’t let up, thrusting his tongue into you deeper, faster, while his nose rubbed insistently against your clit.
He kept going, over and over, tasting you like you were the only thing that could satisfy his hunger. It was too much and yet not enough, and soon you couldn’t stop the desperate chant of his name spilling from your lips. You weren’t even sure what you were pleading for anymore—more? mercy?—all you knew was that you on the brink of falling apart.
One last stroke was enough to shatter you completely.
It was almost embarrassing how quickly you came, but with the way he was working you over, you didn’t stand a chance. The moment you felt yourself tip over, everything broke—your body tensed, your back arched sharply off the bed, and a loud moan tore from your lips. It was like your body had a mind of its own, hips grinding desperately against his mouth as if seeking every last bit of friction you could steal.
And when you finally came down, you were a breathless, panting mess. Spencer gave your clit one final, teasing suck, before he pulled back. He crawled up your body, hands sliding up your sides to push your lingerie higher. Gentle, warm kisses tickled your stomach as he threw you a smug look that only he could pull off.
“How was that,” he murmured, pausing to kiss just beneath your ribs. “For your little fantasy?”
Mind-blowing. Intense. Better than I imagined.
“Well,” you managed to say, fingers tangling into his hair. “If that’s how you plan on treating me, Doctor, I might just have to get sick more often.”
Spencer’s lips curved into a knowing smirk against your skin, and he nipped gently at your side.
“I think it’s best for you to do a regular check-up, then,” he teased, letting his lips ghost over your skin as he crawled further up, settling his body over yours. “Doctor’s orders.”
You couldn’t stop the soft, breathless laugh that escaped your lips as you pulled him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his mouth.
You’d be more than happy to comply.
#kinktober 2024#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid fanfiction
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Shipping (Charles Xavier x Reader)
Summary: You're a teacher at Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters and you're quite close to Charles -- so close that a few of the students have started speculating whether or not you two are actually a couple. (Female Reader) Word Count: 3,646 Warnings: Very Minor Suggestive Themes. Light Angst. No Y/N. Reader has a last name that goes with her powers but it's only mentioned once or twice. A/N: As mentioned, the reader has a last name that correlates with her powers/mutation. Her name is Brandt (inspired by the German word Brand for fire) since she has pyrokinetic powers. But it's only mentioned once or twice by the students.
“You two are being ridiculous.”
“We’re not being ridiculous!” Jubilee defended herself, leaning over the back of the couch to throw Jean a joking glare. “Look at how cute they’re being!”
Jean gave Jubilee one more annoyed look before turning to where the other girl was pointing, her eyes falling on you and Charles at the other side of the large sitting room. She took the two of you in for a second; how Charles was looking back at you periodically with a bright smile on his face and how you were leaning over the back of his chair, a hand firmly planted on his shoulder as you looked at the files he was currently going over. She turned turned back to Jubilee and Ororo.
“See?” Ororo grinned a little and leaned back in the armchair. “Miss Brandt and the Professor are totally banging.”
“Ororo!” Jubilee exclaimed in disgust. “I wanted to prove to Jean that Miss Brandt and Professor Xavier are in love, not that they are sleeping with each other. As a matter of fact, I don’t want to hear anything about that!”
That’s when Scott piped up, raising an eyebrow at Jubilee. “To be fair, if they were dating, don’t you think they’d be sleeping with each other?”
“You two don’t have to make this gross.”
Jean quickly nodded at that. “I agree with Jubilee.”
“Really?”
“Not about the dating, but about Scott and Ororo being gross.” Jean leaned back on the couch, closing her book in her lap. “Just because they’re friendly doesn’t mean they’re dating, Jubilee. They’re probably just good friends.”
That’s when Kurt spoke up, a smile on his lips. “I think the idea of them being a couple is sweet. They seem like they would make a nice couple.”
“You too, Kurt?”
“I’m not entirely sure, though!” He quickly defended himself. “I just said it would be cute if they were together.”
Scott nodded. “I agree with that. They’d be a good couple but I agree with Jean on this one, I think. Just because they’re nice to each other, doesn’t mean they’re a couple.”
Jean nodded quickly and picked her book back up. “Now can you let me do my reading for Miss Brandt’s class? I don’t want to mess up on the test.”
“What test?”
“The test we’re traking next week about the Napoleonic Wars.” Jean explained off-handedly. “I’m currently reading the chapter in my History book and I would love for all of you to let me study.”
Kurt nodded at that. “I read the chapter yesterday and trust me, you should all start soon, as well. It’s a pretty long chapter. I could help you study if you want me to.”
“Thanks. I can’t really start now because lunch break is almost over, but I’ll take you up on that offer another time.” Scott said to Kurt before rising to his feet. “What class do we have now? Literature or Physics?”
“Literature.” Jubilee commented and grabbed her bag from the couch. “With none other than Miss Brandt, so maybe we can get some clues on her relationship with the Professor now!”
“You just want to find it out to prove you’re right, don’t you?”
“Exactly!”
All of them stopped when the clock struck two and everyone started to slowly leave the sitting room to get to class. Jubilee grinned a little as she watched Charles turn to you with a soft smile before placing his hand on top of yours for a few seconds. He gave it a short squeeze before he wheeled himself out from behind the desk and toward the door. Most days, the desks were used by students but Hank had asked Charles to review a file he had typed up and the telepath had asked you to look over it with him during lunch break.
You gave him one last smile before slinging your bag over your shoulder and grabbing the two boxes of books you were going to use for your class. Jean watched from the doors, waiting for her friends to get her belongings, as you struggled to carry both of the boxes. But before she could offer her help Charles called out your name, making you look up from the boxes to face him. He was looking back at you with his arms outstretched, smiling softly.
“Let me help you, Darling.”
“Thank you.” You smiled and handed one of the boxes to him, watching as he placed it on his lap before he made his way to the door. “We’re starting with a new book today.”
“I can see that.” Charles laughed and leaned his head back to look at you. “Didn’t you once mention that you loved Mary Shelley’s writing? What a lovely concidence that one of her books is on the curriculum, isn’t it?”
A smile appeared on your face as you stopped in your tracks. “Did you put it on there? You get to decide between three books for each new chapter of the curriculum, don’t you? I think you’ve mentioned that once.”
“I might have.”
“You’re the sweetest, Charles.”
“For you, always.”
Not wanting to intrude, Jean quickly followed her friends out the sitting room and to her class, though now she was actually contemplating on how much truth there was to Jubilee’s suspiciouns about your relationship with Charles.
---
As the days passed, Jean started to believe in Jubilee’s suspicions more and more as she watched how you and Charles interacted. She had never really paid much attention to it but now she was questioning how she’d never before noticed your gentle smiles, sweet nicknames, casual touches and quiet conversations. But what really got Jean hooked on the idea of finding out about whether or not the rumours were true, was what happened one rainy Friday evening.
It was late and some of the younger students were already asleep while Jean was studying with Jubilee and Ororo. There was a slight drizzle going outside as they hunched over their History books and notes from class. They were pretty engulfed in their studying when the earthquake started, making everything in the room rattle and shake. Jubilee nearly fell off the bed but Jean caught her and Ororo clung to the headboard.
But fortunately, the earthquake quickly stopped and the three of them got off the bed to venture to the hallway to see what had happened -- though Jean was pretty sure it was the new student with geokenesis that must have accidentally started the erathquake. Just as they stepped into the hallway, along with a few others students, you and Charles did the same. And the three girls froze when they realised that both of you had come from his room.
Jubilee turned to give Jean a grin but she wasn’t even looking at her, too caught up in watching you hurry after Charles, smoothing out your hair while you made your way to the young boy’s room. Before you could even knock he opened the door and upon seeing Charles, grabbed onto the armrests of his chair, beginning to apologise profusely. Charles reacted in his usual gentle and comforting manner, calming the boy down and checking whether or not he was injured.
It took a few minutes to calm him down but eventually Charles had convinced him that everyone was fine and there was no need for him to feel guilty. And after a few checkups on the other students, Charles proclaimed that they should all get back to their rooms. Jean ushered Ororo and Jubilee back into her room. But once inside Ororo stopped her from closing the door, pointing at you and Charles in the hallway. Jubilee and Jean looked at each other for a second before leaning over to see what their friend was talking about.
“Are you alright?” Charles asked once the last door had closed, giving you a worried once over and reaching out to take your hand into his. “I saw you hit your head on the nigthstand when you fell off my bed. Are you hurt, Darling?”
“I’m fine.” You gave him a reassuring smile before gently cradling his hand in both of yours. “Shall we get back to your room?”
Charles shook his head, bringing his other hand up to cup yours. “May I check? I promise you I will only check if you’re alright. I wouldn’t want to overlook a possible concussion. You did hit the nightstand pretty hard.”
With a relenting smile you nodded and gave his hand a small squeeze. “If it makes you feel better you can.”
While Charles placed his fingers on his temple and you held his hand tightly, Jubilee gave Jean one more triumpanth smirk. Ororo was still staring at you and Charles, completely amazed by the fact that her and Jubilee had apparently been right. And Jean crossed her arms over her chest, still not fully convinced.
“I mean, I worry about my friends, too.” The rehead reasoned softly. “That time you got hurt during dodgeball, I checked you for a concussion, too.”
“They’re literally holding hands.”
Ororo turned and placed a finger over her lips as you and Charles began to move down the hallway back to his room, now that he had confirmed you were uninjured. The three girls watched as you two arrived at Charles’ door and you glanced down the hallway once more, checking if everyone was in their rooms. Then Charles used the controls of his wheelchair to back into his room while grabbing your hand and pulling you along. You gave a surprised laugh at that and Charles smirked charmingly. And then the two of you were gone and the door to his room once more closed.
“How is that not obviously them going to do something nasty now? He literally pulled her into his room.”
“You really overuse that word.”
“What word?”
“’Literally’.” Jean answered. “Maybe they’re going over something from class.”
“You just don’t want to be in the wrong.” Ororo laughed quietly as she looked up at Jean. “They both came from the Professor’s room, looking disheveled and in their nightwear. Just now he said she’d been on his bed with him when the quake started. And she went back to his room.”
“You’re right. That kind of proves you two right.”
“Kind of?”
---
Now that Jean agreed with Ororo and Jubilee, the girls had made it their mission to find out whether or not they were right. Scott was still not convinced and Kurt kept telling them that while you and Charles would make a sweet couple it was invasive to talk about their teachers like that. His complaints did not stop his friends.
As the next few days days went on, they kept looking for clues. Jubilee kept going on about how much you and Charles were casually touching while Ororo’s main focus was the fact that he kept calling you petnames to which Scott shut her down by telling her that their professor called everyone petnames – they had to agree with him on that one.
Then Thanksgiving break rolled along and most of the students left to visit home. That year Jean, Jubilee, Ororo, Kurt and Scott had all decided to stay behind at the mansion along with a handful of other students. And due to this decreased amount of students at the school, most teachers were leaving over the holidays, as well – safe for Hank, Charles and you. It was really the perfect time for the friends to find out if they were right with their suspicions.
It was on a cold autumn day that Ororo had decided they needed to keep an eye on you and Charles, mostly because she had noticed that you were most definitely wearing one of his favourite cardigans to ward off the chill. That gave them enough incentive to use the rest of the day to try to decide which of them was right once and for all. Eventually, evening rolled along and you and Charles hadn’t acted any different around each other than usual, so the friends gave up and headed back to their rooms. That was until a storm rolled in only an hour later, bringing with it cold winds and chilly rain, prompting the friends to go to the sitting room and warm up by the fire.
“I can’t believe you still don’t believe us.” Jean commented as she walked down the hallway toward the stairs so they could go down to the sitting area. “And would you hurry up so we can warm up by the fire? It’s so cold today.”
Scott shrugged at that. “I can’t believe they managed to convince you.”
“You didn’t see the way they interacted after the earthquake.” Ororo scoffed as she hurried after them. “She was literally coming out of his room, looking dishevelled and he talked about how she’d been in his bed. And then he kept calling her ‘darling’ and fussing over her before literally pulling her back into his room.”
“You use the word ‘literally’ too much.”
Jean chuckled at Scott’s comment. “I told her that, too.”
Jubilee shrugged a little. “That doesn’t mean she’s not right. She’s been wearing his cardian all day.”
“It’s cold.”
Kurt perked up at that. “Actually, I’m pretty sure Miss Brandt has been wearing the Professor’s cardigans for the whole week now.”
“You too, Kurt?”
“As I said, I think they might make a sweet couple.” Kurt commented before frowning a little. “But should we really be this invasive?”
“We should if it proves us right.” Ororo smirked.
“I just worry that this much snooping around will make them angry at us.” Kurt mumbled before looking at his telekenetic friend. “Also, Jean, why are we going to the sitting room? I’m pretty sure the fire went out hours ago.”
“I can fire it back up.”
Scott was the first to start and decent the stairs. But as soon as he got halfay down – and with that in eyesight of the sitting room – he stopped dead in his tracks, making Ororo collide with his back. She reared up to confront him about stopping but Scott put a finger to his lips and pointed at the open doors. Kurt leaned past Scott and quieted down immediately while Jubilee smacked her hand in front of her mouth to keep from making any sounds. Jean leaned forward and her mouth fell open.
At the end of the sitting room, by the fireplace sat none other than you and Charles, cuddled up on the sofa under a blanket. And the two of you were kissing. He was cupping your face, his fingers gently and lovingly stroking your face while yours were buried in his hair, tenderly raking over his scalp. Ororo turned to Scott and pointed a victorious finger at him but he was too busy watching as you leaned back against the arm of the sofa and Charles followed quickly to deepen the kiss, not wanting to part from it just yet.
Eventually, the two of you parted and Charles leaned his forehead against yours, earning himself a small smile and a chaste peck on his lips as you looked back at him. Your hands wandered down to the side of his face where you began to stroke his skin, making a smile appear on his face. He leaned into your touch, turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand.
“Feeling a bit warmer now, my love?” Charles said softly, a bright smile appearing on his lips as you nodded in agreement. “I did promise to warm you up.”
“And you did a wonderful job at that, sweetheart.” You said in amusement, hand sliding down his neck to rest on his shoulder. “I feel very warm and very loved thanks to you.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Charles whispered, his smile faltering a little. “I do hate to see you cold and anxious about your memories, my darling. I know you’ve told me about your past many times but the thought of you being left out in the snow in an attempt to cure your pyrokinesis still upsets me terribly and makes me angry.”
“Don’t be, please.” You replied, leaning your forhead against his. “I’m here now and I’m safe. You make me feel safe, Sweetheart. Safe and warm.”
“That’s good.”
“You’re not cold either, are you?” You inquired in concern. “I know that you get cold easily and I also want to help you stay warm, especially since I pretty much stole all your cardigans.”
Charles laughed softly, obviously touched by your concern before pressing another quick kiss to your lips. “I’m fine, my love. It’s very warm in here and besides, I have you next to me to warm me up.”
“We could go upstairs and I could properly warm you up.”
“Later.” Charles promised before sitting back and stretching out his arm in invitation. “Stay by the fire with me a little longer, would you?”
“I’d love nothing more than that.”
With that, you leaned up to capture his lips in a kiss again but this time Charles didn’t reciprocate, instead pulling back and furrowing his brows. That got you to look up at him in concern, the hand you had placed on his shoulder tightening as you frowned.
“What’s wrong, Charles? Did I do something wrong?”
“You did nothing wrong, love.” Charles said softly before his voice took on an amused tone. “But we’re not alone anymore.”
With that, he turned toward the door and subsequently the staircase, making you follow his gaze. The students froze where they were standing. While Kurt worried about you two being angry, Jean flushed at being spotted and Ororo gave a small wave. Scott looked away awkwardly and a wide grin spread across Jubilee’s face. But regardless of their reactions, all of them slowly made their way into the sitting room. By the time they were close by, you and Charles were sitting up straight again, turned so you could properly face the students. Charles looked pretty amused and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at the situation.
“Now, my dears, how long have you been watching us?”
“We haven’t been watching you!” Kurt defended himself but quickly faltered as he realised that that wasn’t entirely true. “I mean, we sort of did but only for a few minutes.”
“We wanted to come into the sitting room to warm up and you two were sort of smooching on the sofa.” Ororo explained, waving at you and Charles on the couch.
“Smooching.” Scott snorted before shaking his head. “But they’re right. We’ve only been standing there for a minute or two.”
You shook your head in amusement, unable to keep a small laugh from escaping you as she watched their concerned faces. “Don’t worry now. You’re not in any trouble if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“That’s a relief.” Jean said with a small smile. “We worried about that.”
“You two are such a sweet couple, Miss Brandt!” Jubilee suddenly exclaimed, smiling brightly at you and Charles. “And you look really happy together. It’s so good you’re finally together.”
“We are happy.” Charles confirmed, reaching out to take your hand into his. “But we have been in a relationship for a long time. Honestly, I was under the impression that it was fairly obvious.”
“At least we haven’t been keeping it a secret.” You threw in before shrugging. “But then again, we aren’t overly affectionate in the presence of our students. That would hardly be professional.”
“So you’ve been dating for a while now?”
“Yes, we’ve kept it professional but we haven’t been trying to keep it a secret.” Charles explained before nodding toward the fire. “Now, if you still want to warm up, you can find yourself a place to sit. The fire is shrinking now but I’m sure my lovely darling can stoke the flames a bit.”
At his words, you stood from the couch before walking over to the huge fireplace and using your powers to stoke the flames. Then you returned to your place next to Charles and leaned back against his side.
“So tell me, what have you kids been up to all day? I barely saw any students out and about today.” You mused as you looked around. “Where you in town or in your rooms?”
“We were in our rooms.” Scott explained, pulling his legs up onto the armchair. “We thought of going into town but--”
“But we got distracted arguing about whether or not you two were dating.” Jubilee joked, looking up at you from her spot on the carpet. “We were about to start a betting pool at this point.”
“A betting pool?” Charles laughed and shook his head. “Were you really that interested in whether or not we were a couple?”
“A lot of the other students were speculating, too.” Jean defended herself but relaxed when she saw you and Charles laughing at the situation. “The pool was Jubilee’s idea.”
Jubilee nodded in agreement before her eyes widened and she laughed. “You’re like the school’s parents now. X-Mom and X-Dad.”
“Interesting superhero names, for sure.” You chuckled and looked at Charles. “You can bet I will call you X-Dad from now on whenever you act parental.”
“Thank you for that, Jubilee.” Charles said in amusement, his arm pulling you closer as he looked back at you. “But while I don’t think you were being too invasive, I’d like to ask you all to respect our privacy. We want to keep everything professional.”
“Of course.” Jean nodded. “I’m sorry that we were so nosy and invasive.”
“There is no harm done, Jean. Everything’s alright.”
“I can’t believe you were right.” Scott joked. “I guess I was just oblivious.”
Ororo nodded and looked at Jean. “And you called us ridiculous.”
“I guess I got proven wrong.”
#fanfiction#textpost#writing#marvel#xmen#x men#xmen apocalypse#x men apocalypse#charles xavier#charles xavier x reader#charles xavier imagine#xmen x reader#x men x reader#xmen imagine#x men imagine#no y/n#my writing
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ఌ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
꧁ 𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂
w.c. › 4.9k
Plot › if you had told yourself six weeks ago, that you would meet the camboy you’ve been faping for a year, you’d laugh. But meeting Gojo was a curse from God. Part 2 of this post!
Warnings › same as before. Gojo is a little shit and very annoying. A bit of dubious consent at first since reader doesn’t say “yes”. Nothing extreme. How yall not notice the porn I linked in p.1 though? Smh
Kinks › size kink, praise, rough sex, lite dry humping, creampie, manhandling, possessive Gojo, groping, brat behavior from reader, lite dom/sub,
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
“Today’s my lucky day, huh?”
Oh, fuck.
You kinda just… stood there for a few seconds, staring at Gojo in shock. Before you screamed out in fear and ran into the back room.
So humiliating.
“Hahaha!!! Put your glass back on, your blue eyes scared (Name)!” Nobara laughed, walking to join you in the back room. Megumi only rolled his eyes.
Nobara found you in a fetal position on the ground, rocking back and forth as she stared at you in shock.
“Okay, I know his eyes are freaky but it couldn’t have been that bad,” she said, kneeling down to get on your level. She ‘comfortably’ patted your hair, twirling a few strands around her index finger.
It took a few minutes before you could really open your mouth.
“I…know…him…”
“How? This is his first time here.”
You sat upright, staring Nobara right in the eyes.
“Camboy.”
Nobara was quiet, her eyes slowly widening as she took in the new information. Her mouth opened as a shriek left her mouth.
“No fucking way?! Him?! You’ve seen his dick?!”
“Nobara!!!”
She lowered her voice. “Him? Really? The one I called a 4 inch? He’s…. The one you had the call with? Holy shit! Do you think he remembers you?”
“Hopefully… not.. but he said it’s his lucky day.. do you think…?”
“Maybe he’s still mad over the four inch comment.”
“Uhm.”
“Or maybe he’s upset that you were a guy.”
“I dunno…”
“Oh! Maybe he wants to fuck you.”
“Oh c’mon. Now you’re just saying shit.” You stood up with a grunt. “If I’m lucky, he was just saying something about getting a discount. Can you do the cake for him? I really don’t wanna talk to him.”
Nobara frowned but didn’t say anything else. She walked away to go do Gojo’s order. It was silent for the most part, the slight muffled voices of Gojo and Nobara talking. Though it seemed Nobara was talking shit about him.
Hopefully, Gojo wouldn’t come here again due to Megumi’s insistence.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
“So, can you take my order this time?”
You blinked, staring right at Gojo as he leaned on the counter, grinning at you. It was in the evening and the cafe was mostly empty. So you didn’t feel bad about shaking your head. You had hoped this blue eyed freak would leave you alone but he seemed set on bothering you.
He’d even come on days Megumi wasn’t there yet or was off that day!
You didn’t speak to him directly. Too embarrassed. All you could remember was your desperate moans to know his name. Yup, no way in hell were you going to speak to him.
Nobara came over to the cashier and took over—you didn’t even have to ask. This had been happening for weeks now. Just a simple look was all she needed. Even Inumaki and Megumi knew what to do. Though the two didn’t know why you seemed so adverse to speaking to Gojo.
Megumi believed you hated him for being annoying. He could relate to that.
Inumaki believed Gojo must’ve did something because you hardly hated people.
So he did from time to time purposely put salt in Gojo’s coffee.
And would sometimes put jalapeño seeds into his food.
What could he say? A true friend.
Nobara was the only one to know the truth. And while she did think you were overreacting a bit—she knew how embarrassing your actions were. If you didn’t want to speak to Gojo, so be it. She’s not one to force it.
You were in the back room when Nobara came back, sighing to herself. She plopped down on the chair beside you, staring down at the table before looking over to you.
“That blue eyed slut keeps asking for you it’s annoying.”
“Slut?”
“Affectionately.” She said. “‘Why does he keep ignoring me?’ ‘Why isn’t he speaking to me?’ ‘Let me talk to him.’ ‘Aren’t you his friend?’ Blah blah blaaaah!” She cried, her voice rising in pitch out of frustration as her hands dug into her scalp, moving her hair around.
“What would he even want to talk about?” You whispered to yourself.
“Maybe he’s scared you’re going to tell Megumi.”
“What would I gain from that? The only thing I’ll tell Megumi is to ban him from the cafe.”
Nobara let out a soft huff. “Really though… if he’s making you that uncomfortable, tell Megumi.” She said, her voice suddenly serious. She reached out and rested her hand against yours, squeezing it gently. “You don’t even have to tell Megumi the true reason… he won’t judge. If it comes down to it, we’ll tell Boss.”
She pulled away. Your eyes met hers, a bit shocked at how.. caring she was about the situation. You knew you were overreacting a bit and a normal person would’ve just told Gojo straight up to leave them alone. And you knew she was right.
Megumi wouldn’t judge. He would tell Gojo to stop coming.
But…
It was like you didn’t want him to go for some reason.
In the back of your mind, you truly wanted to know why he kept bothering you.
Was he angry?
Scared you’d tell people?
Well… it couldn’t be good either way.
You just hoped he’d get tired of you soon.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
The sound of loud music was beating with your heart as you leaned against the wall. You, Nobara, and a begrudged Megumi were at a newly opened gay club in Shibuya. It was cool for like the first two hours but now your social battery was practically dead.
Megumi was somewhere… you remembered him saying he needed some fresh air.
Nobara was having the time of her life with some girls on the dance floor. Good for her.
You were dressed way more conservatively than most of the people at the club. Just a t-shirt and pants. You weren’t someone to dress up like that. As you drowned your drink and placed it on the bar counter, you asked for some water.
No one was approaching you which was great. You didn’t know if you could handle talking to someone right now.
But that soon changed when someone was suddenly right beside you.
A taller guy, black hair and brown eyes. He seemed to be looking for one thing. You didn’t look his way at first, believing he was just getting a drink until a shot glass was slid over to you.
“What’s a pretty boy like you doing here all alone?”
Typical…
You forced a slight smile. “I’m here with friends. No thanks.” You said, sliding the shot back over to him. He shrugged and took it himself, downing in seconds.
It was quiet for a moment, even though the music still roared in the background. “Would your friends mind if I steal you for a little bit?” He suddenly asked, his lips right near your ears. You flinched but couldn’t help but grin in response.
“Why? Where are you going to take me?”
“Wherever you’d like, baby.” His hand slowly trailed down your shoulders to your hips, lightly squeezing before his finger teased the slight opening in your pants. Since you were so touch starved and the last time a man ever touched you was a hundred years ago, you didn’t push him away at first.
So what? You were desperate at this point.
Dildos get lonely…
“Mhm, I don’t—”
You didn’t get to finish your sentence because suddenly the man was… gone? You blinked rapidly before looking around in confusion. Huh?! As you reeled in shock at how fast a man could just disappear, you felt a tug at the belt loop of your pants before the hand grasped it entirely and pulled you out of the club.
“Who?! Dude, you’re going to rip my fucking pants off! Get—”
The fresh air slapped you in the face before you were harshly pushed against the wall of the alleyway. Your eyes saw dark spots before you could fully open them, ready to scream bloody murder before you saw who attacked you.
Fucking Gojo!
You groaned, rolling your eyes as you looked away. No way he found you here! Did Megumi tell him? Nobara? No, they’d never do that to you. Oh… he was a fucking stalker!
But you didn’t get to accuse him as he grabbed your face and forcefully turned it so you would look him in the eye. No, your cock didn’t twitch. You’re just horny.
You didn’t speak. More so just because you knew it pissed him off that you weren’t. So you only gave him your meanest glare and closed your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t pry them open. Only to be wrong because apparently Gojo has no sense of boundaries.
He did force open one of your eyes and you quickly slapped his hand away. Fuck that felt weird. You looked at him shock, the fuck was his problem?
But you weren’t going to speak first! No way. You were going to be petty until the day you died.
Gojo was silent for a moment before groaning, deciding he had to be the one doing the talking.
“What’s your problem?”
“My—?!” You clamped your lips shut. He almost got you there. You reached up and began pushing at his chest but you didn’t even make him budge. Gojo rolled his eyes and grabbed your wrists, with one hand, and pushed them against the wall, right above your head.
“You avoid me like I killed your entire family. What the hell did I do?”
You pursed your lips and shook your head. For the next few minutes, it was Gojo spouting questions and you acting like a child being asked if they were the one who drew on the wall. It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so stupid.
It took a moment before Gojo was finally giving up. He sighed as his hand released his grip on your wrists. You watched as he pulled away and suddenly, you didn’t want him to do that.
So without thinking, you grabbed the belt loops of his pants and pulled him close. Gojo’s eyes widened, his hands quickly moving to rest on either side of you so he didn’t crush into you. You didn’t like the sad look on his face.
But you were about to regret it as his signature smirk appeared. He leaned in close, his mouth pressing against your ear. His light chuckle sent a shiver down your spine, making you unintentionally arch your back.
“I see how it is… you’re into being a brat, huh?”
You shook your head violently, biting your lip. Okay, you were certainly playing into it. But it was the reason your ex broke up with you so you didn’t exactly like the word used in regards to you.
Something something ex boyfriends suck
You gasped as his leg was shoved between yours, rubbing right against your crotch. It happened so fast you couldn’t even think straight.
“I asked you question. Answer.” He said, pulling away so you could see his face. His blue eyes stared straight into yours, making you squirm in embarrassment. You kept remembering the incident. Cumming just from seeing his face.
Gosh, who can say they’ve done that?!
The only sense of light in the alleyway was the moonlight and the blinking neon sign of the club. It would occasionally light up Gojo’s face and you felt your cock twitch when you got a clear view. His eyes staring you down. Jaw tight. His lips no longer in a smirk. You didn’t know he could look so serious.
His eyebrow raised a bit when you didn’t answer. You wanted to see what he’d do and he was quick to show you. His leg began to rub your crotch but it was slow—way too slow for you to get anything from it. It felt like a taste to what you could truly get if you acted like a good boy.
As your cock began to twitch, straining against your pants, he stopped. You whimpered, staring up at him with pity as he tilted his head.
You knew what you had to do to get what you wanted.
“N…no…” You whispered, shaking your head. He let out a sigh, a hand moving away from the wall as it harshly gripped your face, forcing you to look him in the eye.
“I don’t like liars. Tell me the truth. What happened to the good boy on the call, huh? The one who listened and put on a nice show for me.”
You bit your lip and closed your eyes, not wanting to look him in the eyes. When you felt his hand squeeze your cheeks, you slowly opened them only to see him looking at you with worry.
“Do you want to stop?” He asked.
Did you?
Did you want to stop?
You reached up and placed your hands on his shoulder, leaning up on your toes to press a soft kiss on his lips. It was soft, way too soft compared to the debauchery you two were just participating in.
Gojo eagerly kissed you back, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer. He kissed you as if he was hungry. Like if you were to pull away, he’d miss his chance. You moaned into the kiss as he grasped your ass, gripping it tightly before moving downward to grab your legs and hoist you up.
He slammed you against the wall, never pulling away from the kiss as you gripped his hair for some sort of purchase. The innocent kiss you had given him was leaning to pure lust.
His teeth biting your lips, earning little gasps from you. You’d never kissed a man like this before. But even though it was pure lust, you somehow felt loved.
“Ahem..”
You both froze. Gojo was still biting at your lip as you both glanced to your right to see a pissed off Megumi.
“I called you to take me home, not fuck my friend.”
Gojo pulled away, though his hand still held you up, “Megumi~~ sorry! I just got caught—”
“—fucking my friend? C’mon, I found Nobara.” Megumi stormed away while you felt like jumping off the nearest bridge.
Jesus Christ!! You might as well replace your middle name with “Embarrassment!”
Gojo only chuckled slightly as he pulled out his car keys and placed it in your hand. He gently placed you back on your feet. “Go to the car, I’ll join you guys in a minute.”
“What are you doing?”
He simply smirked. “Taking out some trash.”
He was so weird…
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Nobara was conked out in the spare bedroom while Megumi slept on a futon in the same room. Gojo had driven you three to his apartment. It was actually quite nice. You wondered what his actual job was because you knew being a cam boy couldn’t actually pay that well.
While Gojo was looking for some spare clothes for you, you decided to take a look around. You found his office and instantly knew this was where he did his cams. It was surreal seeing it in person.
As you closed the door, you shrieked when you came face to face with Gojo. He was smirking, handing you a pair of pajamas he found that could possibly found you.
“How was it?”
“How was what?”
He rolled his eyes. “The room. Better in person?”
You simply let out a huff. “Where’s the bathroom? I’ll change in there.”
“No need—change in my room. You’ll be sleeping there anyway.”
And then he just walked to his room. You stood there for a moment, mouth agape. Sleep? Sleeping? In there? His room?!
If there wasn’t two people already sleeping you would’ve screamed.
You slowly followed behind him, unable to stop the steady rise of your heartbeat. Your stomach felt weird, slightly churning as you thought about what could happen. But it didn’t feel like anxiety, more so like excitement. Though you couldn’t fight back the slight feeling of nausea.
You haven’t slept with someone in over a year.
And Gojo was so experienced.
Would he compare you to others?
Would you disappoint him?
You suck at giving blowjobs, haven’t gotten out of the habit of not using teeth. Your ex complained about that all the time.
Has he even fucked a guy before?
All these thoughts rushed in your head before you bumped right into something. You glanced up, grinning shyly as Gojo raised an eyebrow. His hands gripped your shoulder as he leaned down a bit to look you right in the eye.
“What’s wrong? Nervous?”
You couldn’t find it in yourself to lie. So you mutely nodded.
Gojo chuckled slightly, his hand moving up to lightly caress your cheek. “Don’t be. I’ll lead.”
His hand slowly slid down, his thumb lightly teasing your lips. It pulled down at your bottom lip before he switched to his index and middle finger. They pushed your lips apart before inching their way inside your mouth. It took a moment for you to not push them out—getting used to the odd feeling of them.
Slowly, you lightly suckled on them, closing your eyes to try and keep calm. More than likely, he was going to finger you open. And you felt your cock twitch at the thought.
You almost completely lost yourself, not even noticing the stuttered breath Gojo let out. Your eyes opened slightly, looking up at him hooded eyelids. He almost looked possessed. His throat bobbed as his lips pulled into a slight snarl.
You pulled away, taking his fingers out of your mouth. “What’s wrong…?”
“I wish it didn’t take me so long to fuck you.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
“Jeez, you’re tight, (Name), you don’t stretch yourself often?”
The sound of your muffled whimpers was filling the room, moonlight seeping through the curtains as you tried to keep still. You were sitting on Gojo’s lap, your legs spread open as he fingered you. His fingers stretched you deeper than you thought was possible.
Your back pressed against his chest as you had your hand clamped around your mouth. You only imagined his hands inside you. Especially during his streams. It was almost like a fantasy that it was happening right now.
That he actively sought after you.
“If they weren’t here,” he muttered, most likely referring to Megumi and Nobara, “I wouldn’t have allowed you to hide those pretty little sounds.”
You felt yourself blush.
He finds your moans pretty?
If you weren’t too busy moaning, you would’ve been giggling.
His fingers stretched you slowly and methodically, rubbing against your wet walls as if searching for something. You wondered if he was having trouble reaching your prostate. So you shuffled a bit, thinking maybe it was the angle you were sitting in that was giving him trouble.
“Uncomfortable?” He suddenly asked, his fingers stopping.
“Oh.. no… thought you… were having trouble reaching my.. uhm, prostate.”
“I wasn’t. I know where it is.” You felt his finger brush against it, causing you to whimper. “I’m avoiding it on purpose.”
“W..why..?”
A light chuckle left him as he rested his chin on your shoulder, looking down at your nude lower half. He hummed slightly, his free hand trailing downward to tease your leaking cock. It was still taking you some getting used to being fully nude while he was still dressed.
“Because of this.”
Suddenly, his fingers began to harshly target your prostate. Rubbing and teasing it relentlessly. Your body arched against him, toes curling as you screamed out. It was inhumane at how he was able to keep the fast pace with just his fingers.
No wonder those girls in the video practically screamed when he fingered them.
His free hand grasped your cock, thumb lightly teasing your sensitive tip. The constant between the harsh thrusts and slow, sensual movements on your cock was something you never felt before. Your hands gripped at everything beneath you—bedsheets, your leg, but soon found purchase gripping his thigh.
Wow, how often does he work out?
You couldn’t dwell too much on it as you began to feel the familiar sensation in your body. Your cock leaking pre-cum all over your tummy. But just as you almost reached your peak, it was over.
His fingers pulled out.
“Wha…?” You muttered, chest heaving as you glanced over at him.
Gojo only patted your thighs before motioning for you get off. You hesitantly stood up, legs feeling entirely like jelly as you watched him pull down his pants, his cock sprinting out.
It was huge.
That seven inch dildo certainly came in handy…
His cock was possibly close to eight. Seeing it in person was different from any video or live stream. The veins and just how much thicker it was.
“Condom.” He whispered, pointing at the nightstand beside the bed. He began to lightly stroke his cock, spreading the pre-cum leaking from his tip.
You didn’t move to get the condom. He didn’t use condoms when fucking those girls. Why did he need to use one with you?
There was some weird surge of jealousy within you. And it wasn’t because he fucked other people.
It was because he wasn’t going to cum inside you.
Well, what if you wanted that?
“Mhm, no.” You replied, pushing his hand away from his cock.
Gojo raised an eyebrow at this, watching as you moved to sit down on his lap. You grasped his cock and placed it right between your ass, lightly teasing your puckered hole. Your free hand gripping tightly at his shoulder, balancing yourself a bit.
“You cum in all those girls.” You whispered, smirking slightly as you leaned in. “What if I want it too?”
A laugh left Gojo as his hands reached over and grasped your waist, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. You were sure this was going to leave a mark. Any sort of control you just tried to hold was pushed away by Gojo.
“Aw~ it’s okay, baby. You’ll be replacing those girls, no need to think about ‘em anymore.”
“Wh—?”
You screamed out as he pulled you down onto his cock. Your face squinted in pain as you whimpered and squirmed, trying to get used to his cock. It was different seeing it than feeling it stretch you whole. No wonder he spent a good amount of time stretching you out.
Gojo kept his grip on you tight as he bounced you up and down on his cock. You didn’t get no say in how he got to use you. Your voice filled the room, you forgot all about keeping quiet by this point.
“Ngh, sorry, hate this position.”
You didn’t even get to answer him back when you were suddenly picked up from off his cock and dropped onto the bed. You were now on your knees as he got behind you. His cock teased your hole for just a moment before he slammed right back inside.
Your face squished against the bed as his hands moved downward, gripping your ass tightly as he began massaging it. His cock stretched you fool, easily rubbing against your prostate with each thrust.
It was better than any dildo.
“You don’t even know… how much I masturbated to your moans,” he suddenly said.
You almost didn’t hear him at first. “H..hng..?”
“I recorded the sound of your moans during the call. How could I not when it made me cum so fast,” he reached down, pressing his chest against your back. He angled his hips against your ass and began thrusting again, his cock continuously rubbing right against your prostate.
You tried to say something but the only sound that left you was cries of pleasure. The sounds of skin slapping and your whimpers filled the room.
It was weird, totally. But…
You’d look past it.
Dick too good, y’know?
“Then you came from just seeing my face.” He chuckled slightly. “Knew I couldn’t let you get away but you blocked me everywhere.”
He pulled away slightly, his thrusting coming to a pause. You whimpered in disappointment, glancing back at him. Gojo grinned slightly as he grabbed your arms, pulling them back a bit before sliding down to grasp your hands.
The position wasn’t comfortable at all, having your hands behind your back. You couldn’t hold up your face anymore, being forced to just let it lay on the sheets.
“Imagine my luck when I saw you again. You’re prettier in person.” His hips slammed against your ass, earning a scream from you. But he didn’t move again, leaving you to calm down from the harsh thrust.
“But then you ignore me.” He muttered. “Thought I was going to have to give up on you… but today was my lucky day. Just had to throw that guy away and you were mine.”
You felt your cock twitch.
His?
You were his.
He released his grip on your hands and pulled out again. You didn’t even get to whine this time as you were flipped onto your back, staring at him now. He crawled over you, his cock easily sliding back inside. You wrapped your legs around his waist to hold him close.
“Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours…” You whispered, “won’t… run away anymore… promise.”
Gojo grinned slightly as he leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead. His hand patted your head, his finger twirling a strand of your hair. Seeing him like this, so soft compared to his camboy persona was out of a dream.
“I’ll be nice—since it’s our first.” He sat back, his hands reaching down to rest on the curve of your hips.
As he began to slowly thrust inside of you, you couldn’t help but sigh. It felt nice. The soft rhythm of his cock going in and out. But it soon started to pick up, his grip tightening on your hips. You whimpered, gripping at his chest as you wondered how this was going to go.
“G-Gojo?!”
“Hm?”
“H…how is this nice..?!” You managed to moan out.
His hips slammed against your ass, the sound of skin slapping together returning in harmony with your moans.
“This is my nice.” He grinned.
Fucking asshole!
His hand moved up and gripped one of yours, tangling it into a handhold. Your hand was practically engulfed by his. Crap, he was making you feel crazy.
“You know my name now, so scream it.”
You gasped in shock, suddenly remembering when you had whined in the call about not having a name to moan. Your back arched as his pace somehow picked up even more, his hips slamming into you with a force you questioned was human.
If this was his nice… you didn’t want to know what his mean was.
Okay—that was a lie, you definitely wanted to know.
You started to moaning his name which soon turned into screams. Your cock spurted pathetically on your stomach, coating it with your cum. But he didn’t stop. He kept his rough pace as he used you for his own release.
His last thrusts practically took your breath away as he pushed deep inside of you. The only sound left was your gasps as he cummed, coating your insides.
Your hand was still entangled with his and he didn’t seem to want to let go. As he pulled out, cum slowly leaked out of you, coating the bedsheets beneath you. He laid down beside you, wrapping his free arm around your waist as he tugged you closer.
It was silent for a moment, only your heavy breathing as you tried to calm down. Gojo buried his face in your neck, humming slightly. The moonlight shined down on you both through the windows, illuminating his white hair beautifully.
As your eyes felt heavy, you cuddled closer to him and fell asleep with a smile.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
“I can’t believe you.”
You and Gojo sat kneeling on the floor in front of a disappointed Nobara and Megumi.
“I can believe Gojo… but (Name)…” Megumi whispered, shaking his head as he looked at you.
Nobara sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I thought he was killing you at first. Can you imagine the horror of hearing you scream in the middle of the night?!”
You froze, glancing up at Nobara. “Did you…?”
“Head back down!” She yelled, you quickly obeyed. “And yes, I did see Gojo fucking you! So traumatizing.” She whined, wiping at her imaginary tears.
“I wish I didn’t hear it.” Megumi muttered.
“So, were you guys role playing or something?! Why did you act like you hated him for almost two months straight?!” Nobara asked, staring right at you.
You pursed your lips, keeping your head down. “Uhm… I dunno… I just…”
Gojo grinned. “It was a brat tamer role play!”
“I didn’t need to know that!” Nobara screamed, covering her ears as she began to sing to herself as she ran away to the kitchen. Megumi only gave you another disappointed look, one that reminded you of a mother, before glaring daggers at Gojo.
“You still can’t bother me at work.” He said before walking away.
Gojo simply laughed, standing up. He stretched as he held out a hand to help you up. “Don’t mind Megumi, he’ll get over it.”
You nodded with a pout, hoping he was right. As you moved to go join Megumi and Nobara in the kitchen, Gojo suddenly grabbed your hand. He pulled you close, pressing his lips against your ear.
“I wasn’t lying about you replacing the girls, I wanna show you off.” He whispered before releasing you. He gave you his signature cocky smirk before walking away to go bother Megumi some more.
You stood there for a moment, reeling in shock.
Show… you… off…?
Did he mean…?
Holy fuck.
He wanted to make videos with you!
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
No part 3, stop bugging me
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𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐞
*Pics not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Lando Norris x Female!Reader.
• Requested: no.
• Summary: Lando and his obsession with TikTok trends almost got him in trouble.
• Warnings: none, just few curse words I think lol.
• Word count: 776.
• A/N: I know, I know I’m just posting fics based on trends but this is the last one I promise 😭
“Got it babe? On the count of three make an ugly face.” Lando stated after setting up his phone and press record. He was standing behind you, his girlfriend, his hands resting on your shoulders as you sat while putting on your makeup.
You looked at him skeptically through the phone’s camera, with a confused look on your face. He was trying to hold back his laughter, already imagining your reaction.
“Why?”
“It’s just a game,” he replied, leaving a kiss above your hair. “Okay on my three. One, two… Baby! I said on my three!”
You frowned, continuing to look at your boyfriend through the phone and he suppressed another laugh, knowing by your face you were already getting upset even though you hadn’t said a word about it yet.
“Babe come on you can do it. Again. One… Oh c’mon why do you keep doing it before my three?!” he exclaimed and you didn’t answer again but he immediately noticed how your expression shifted from confusion to sadness, your lips slightly curved downwards.
“What?” you sadly whispered as you turned your head towards him. “What do you mean? Am I ugly?”
Lando felt his heart break at the sight of your tear-filled eyes as you looked at him with that broken expression, almost making him kneel on the floor. “Oh no, no, no, no, my love, oh my god,” he babbled, immediately hugging you from behind and leaving numerous kisses at the top of your head.
He pulled away after a while and turned the chair so that you were face to face with him. He knelt down and cupped your face with his hands as his thumbs caressed your cheeks. “I’m so sorry baby, please forgive me. I just wanted to make a stupid trend, please don’t cry. You’re not ugly, you’re the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on, you’re beautiful beyond belief please… I’m so sorry.”
He kissed your forehead, then your cheeks, your lips. “Please forgive me, oh baby I love you so much. I hate seeing you like this, I hate doing this to you. I swear to god I will never follow any stupid trends again… Fucking TikTok.”
“Can you cook my favorite dish tonight please?” you asked in a low voice.
“Of course baby, yes, whatever you want, I would buy you the moon if it made you happy. Please don’t cry, I’m so sorry.”
A bright smile appeared on your lips and you kissed him. “Thank you darling, I love you so much too.”
Lando let out a sigh relieved, even though you were just making fun of him. “You little… I thought I made you cry. Don’t ever do this to me again please, I though I was having a heart attack.”
You giggled and threw your arms around his neck, holding him tightly as he hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your hair. “I’m sorry love, but you deserved it.”
He kissed your neck. “Yeah I do… God I’m never watching TikTok again in my life.”
You laughed and he pulled away from you, cupping your face with his hands again. “You sure you’re okay? You know it was just for a video right? You’re… To say you’re breathtakingly beautiful is an understatement and I’m not even kidding. There’s no word I could use that would even begin to describe how gorgeous I think you are. You’re so fucking perfect baby and I don’t want you to doubt that for even a second.”
“Hey, hey it’s okay love,” you stroked his hair, brushing it off his forehead and smiling gently. “I was just messing with you, I know it’s just a trend since I’ve seen it a million times. I’m on social media too you know.”
He nodded. “Yeah I know, I know, I just didn’t consider the fact I could hurt your feelings and seeing you with that sad expression broke my heart, even if it was just a joke, I want to make sure you know I’m totally crazy about you and you’re perfect, okay?”
You laughed again and nodded before kissing him. “I’m really okay, I promise baby.”
“Seriously, I worship the ground you walk on, I would lick any surface you sit on, that’s how desperate I’m for you.”
“Ew Lando! You’re disgusting!” You exclaimed, loudly chuckling and playfully shoving him away, making him burst out laughing.
“Okay you’re laughing so I guess it’s really fine, but don’t think I’m joking baby,” he retorted as he stood up and stopped the recording and you fake gagged. “But what do you think about the dinner I promised you now?”
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need you close;
summary: when your busy schedule leaves logan feeling neglected, he craves your attention in his own way—by showing up with small, thoughtful gestures and lingering touches that hint at his pent-up need. despite his rugged exterior, logan’s vulnerability shines through as he tries to remind you he’s still there, waiting.
word count: 1k
a/n: okay so this was originally a headcanon idea but this was my most popular headcanon so I definitely wanted to post it as a one shot! always feel free to leave an ask if you guys want anymore logan themed headcanons or fics!
Logan wasn’t used to being ignored. Or at least, not by you. It had been weeks since you’d been swamped with work, and while you appreciated his support, you couldn’t help but feel the strain on your relationship. He’d never say it, not out loud at least, but Logan was needy, and he craved your attention like nothing else.
The soft scratch of a pen met your ears, but you didn’t even look up from your laptop. Logan stood by the counter, lazily scribbling something on a piece of paper. He’d been in and out of your office all day, never staying long but always making his presence known. His scent—musky, earthy, all Logan—lingered long after he’d leave. It used to comfort you, but now it only reminded you of the time you couldn’t give him.
You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Logan, I’m really busy.”
Without missing a beat, he crossed the room and placed a steaming cup of your favorite coffee on the desk. His fingers lingered, brushing against yours as he slid the cup toward you. You glanced up and caught the faintest smirk on his lips.
“Thought you could use a pick-me-up,” he grumbled, leaning in closer. His warm breath fanned over your cheek, and you could feel the tension melt from your muscles, despite how desperately you needed to focus. “Been workin’ too hard.”
“Thanks,” you muttered, trying to sound casual, but your voice betrayed you. The way his hands rested on your shoulders—rough yet tender—sent shivers down your spine. He started massaging the knots in your shoulders, his fingers kneading the tension from your overworked muscles. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this—missed him—until now.
“You need a break, darlin’,” Logan muttered, his voice low and rough, sending a familiar heat through your body. “Can’t have you burnin’ out on me.”
You chuckled, but the sound was weak. “I’ll take a break soon, I promise.”
Logan let out a soft grunt, clearly unsatisfied with your answer. But instead of arguing, he pulled back, leaving a small note on the corner of your desk before disappearing from the room. You picked it up, your heart softening at the sight of his messy handwriting: Missin’ you. Don’t forget to take a break.
For a moment, you considered following him. You could see the hurt in his eyes, the frustration simmering just beneath the surface. But you had deadlines to meet, work piling up faster than you could keep up with. You’d make it up to him later—at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.
The next few days were more of the same. Logan was always around, but never directly demanding your attention. He’d leave notes scattered around your workspace—short, sweet messages like Thinkin’ ‘bout you or We’re overdue for some time together. He brought you food, sometimes your favorite meal, other times just a snack to keep you going. He’d make excuses to touch you, his hands lingering on your back or brushing against your arm as he walked by.
But you noticed the shift. His touches were growing more possessive, more intense, as if he was trying to remind you that he was still here, waiting for you to give him the attention he so desperately needed.
One evening, you returned home from a long day at work, exhausted and drained. You dropped your bag by the door and collapsed on the couch, barely managing to kick off your shoes. Within seconds, Logan was beside you, pulling you into his lap without a word.
“Logan, I’m—”
“Shh.” His arms wrapped around you, and you could feel the weight of his need in the way he held you, so tight you thought he might never let go. “You’re always busy, darlin’. Let me take care of you.”
The frustration in his voice was clear, but so was the affection. He wasn’t angry—he was hurt. Hurt that you hadn’t been giving him the time he needed. You felt a pang of guilt as you melted into his embrace, feeling the heat of his body against yours.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your head resting against his chest. His heart thudded steadily beneath your ear, a comforting sound that you hadn’t realized you’d missed. “I’ve been so caught up in work, I didn’t mean to—”
“Stop apologizin’,” Logan interrupted, his voice softer than before. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. “Just... don’t do it again, alright? I miss you.”
You nodded, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. Logan wasn’t the type to openly express his emotions, but the way he held you now—tight, protective, needy—said more than words ever could.
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair. “I’ve been patient,” he muttered, his voice rumbling through his chest. “But I need you. Not just here, but with me. You get what I’m sayin’?”
“I do,” you replied softly, shifting to look up at him. His eyes met yours, and you could see the raw emotion swirling in them—jealousy, frustration, but above all, love. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much.”
Logan grunted, but this time there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Guess I can forgive you, but only ‘cause I know how hard you’ve been workin’. Just don’t make a habit of it.”
You laughed, feeling the tension in your chest ease. “I’ll try not to.”
He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that made your heart race. You could feel the heat of his need, the way he poured every bit of his pent-up affection into the kiss. It was almost overwhelming, but in the best way possible.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “I’m not gonna stop remindin’ you I’m here,” he said, his voice low and rough. “You’re mine, darlin’. Don’t forget that.”
You smiled, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. “I won’t forget.”
For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to relax completely in his arms, savoring the warmth of his touch and the strength of his embrace. Logan wasn’t one to be needy often, but when he was, it only made you fall harder for him.
And maybe, just maybe, it was exactly what you needed too.
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