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greengoblinswifey · 2 days ago

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Trust— Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— based on season 4 episode 9, slight spoilers. rafe is convinced he can help you relax, take your mind off the drama on the ship and make you trust him.

warnings— manipulation, oral, praise kink, degrading kink, bondage, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink.

Rafe looked up as you entered the small, cramped bathroom, his blue eyes narrowing before softening a bit as he registered your expression. “Come to check on me again?” he drawled, his voice low and rough after days of confinement. Despite his irritation, there was a hint of something else in his tone, something that felt almost, relieved.

“Yeah,” you replied, sighing as you slid down to sit on the floor next to him, finally giving yourself a break from the chaos upstairs. “I needed to get away from everything. JJ's out of control, everyone’s on edge, and it’s just—it's all a lot.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, shifting a bit to get more comfortable despite his tied-up position. “Sounds like a mess,” he said, a glint in his eyes. “But not surprising. I’d be losing it, too, if I were up there. Though, you don’t seem the type to lose it.”

You exhaled, glancing away. “I don’t know, sometimes I think I'm just about at my limit. It feels like I’m the only one who, I don’t know, tries to keep it all together by being civil.”

Rafe smirked slightly, his gaze unwavering. “You don’t have to, you know. Keep it together all the time,” he murmured, his voice taking on an edge. “Sometimes, you just need to let off some steam.” His voice dropped, a bit huskier. “Maybe even relax a little.” His eyes locked onto yours, and you felt your pulse quicken.

You frowned, glancing at his wrists, still bound. “Rafe…”

“Come on,” he coaxed, his tone almost too smooth. “Untie me. I’m not going to hurt you.” He held your gaze with an intensity that made you falter. “Let me help you relax.”

Hesitating, you chewed on your lip. There was something, different about him right now, and you couldn’t quite pin point it. But, against your better judgment, you reached forward and undid the ropes around his wrists, slowly freeing him.

Before you could process what was happening, his hands were on you, and he pulled you in close, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was both rough and gentle, catching you completely off-guard. You melted into it, the tension you’d been carrying washing away under his touch. Your mind went blank, and you felt yourself leaning in closer, craving the connection.

“You’re so needy,” he murmured against your lips, “So naughty for letting me loose like this.”

Flustered, you pulled back slightly, breathless. “Rafe…”

He only smirked, his fingers trailing along your jaw. “It’s alright,” he whispered, holding your gaze with a soft, challenging glint. “Now that I’m out, maybe I can return the favor and help you feel a little better.”

You slowly nodded. You couldn’t deny the way he was making you feel.

Rafe’s hands moved slowly over your bare stomach, his fingers tracing delicate patterns across your skin, sending shivers up your spine. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “So responsive,” he murmured, watching your breath hitch as his hands continued their slow exploration.

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, feeling vulnerable but completely unable to pull away. Rafe’s fingers hooked under the waistband of your skirt, and with a quiet confidence, he slipped it and your thong off, leaving you feeling even more exposed. He let out a quiet chuckle, his hands never leaving your skin.

When he pulled off his own shirt, his eyes never left yours, and then he moved closer, his presence between your legs grounding you in the moment. “Trust me,” he whispered, voice low as he leaned in, and before you could fully process the warmth of his breath, he began to press soft, deliberate kisses along your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from you.

“You’re so—” you managed, words slipping away as he looked up at you with that familiar smirk, his gaze unrelenting.

“So what?” he teased, “I haven’t even started.”

Your breath grew shallow, anticipation building as his hands traced along your hips, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected.

His mouth attached to your clit and it sent a spark through you, his touch patient yet undeniably intent, and you couldn’t help but give in to the sensation, letting yourself relax under his steady hands. His tongue was precise, lapping up every part of your pussy that was soaked with your juices.

“Don’t hold back now,” he murmured. His constant sucking and flicking over your clit made your orgasm wash over you, leaving you completely captivated, and all you could do was let yourself melt into the moment, trusting him entirely.

“I’d say you were my good girl and you are but fuck, you’re such a slut just letting me make you cum like this, I thought you and your friends didn’t trust me?” he chuckled, sitting up til he was beside you. You buried your face into his chest, embarrassed that he was right.

“Oh that’s okay baby, don’t be embarrassed,” he laughed, “you know what would make it all better? Me doing to you what they did to me.”

Your head shot up, confusion etched across your face.

“Not like that baby, you’d be willing wouldn’t you? Would you let me tie you up and use you? Gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked huskily.

Slowly, you nodded. You couldn’t deny his words made you throb. You’d let this man do anything to you. He smirked at your obedience and took up the rope, beginning to tie you in the same position he was before. The rope was tied firmly, but not firm enough to hurt or bruise you.

“Is that okay baby? You like being all tied up for me?”

“Y-yes Rafe,” you muttered, eyes big and full of need.

He slipped down his boxers and your eyes went wider, gasping at the size of him. He was so thick and leaking for you. You needed a taste.

“Open up that whore mouth,” he growled.

Immediately, you did what was told and he shoved his cock straight to the back of your throat making you gag.

“Breathe baby, breathe, I know you can take it, you seem like you’d be such a good cock sucker.”

You wanted to prove him right, you wanted to be exactly what he thought of you. As he slowly thrusted into your mouth, your tongue went to work, swirling over the base and the tip, getting it as sloppy as you could. He moaned deeply above you, as his thrusts grew faster, your lips suctioned around him, making the sweetest little sounds.

You would’ve played with his balls if your hands weren’t tied and so, you leaned your head down, slurping and sucking on his balls as he threw his head back and shivered.

“Fuck, I knew you could do it, I knew you were a little whore, what a fucking mouth.” He slipped back into your mouth, his hands now going to your curls as he held you down on his cock, but before he could shoot his load down your throat, he pulled out.

“I know you’d swallow every last drop of my cum like the whore you are but I’d rather your pussy swallow it,” he chucked.

Heat rose in your cheeks as you thought about him filling you up. You weren’t on any form of birth control and you knew for a fact him or anyone on the ship did not have a condom in their possession. He’d definitely get you pregnant, just like his sister was at the moment. Ironic.

“Now, I have an idea.” You looked up at him curiously then gasped as he lifted your lower body, your hands in a slight awkward position as he held you up to fuck you mid air.

“Think you can take it— oh who am I kidding, you’re going to fucking take it,” he muttered, rubbing the leaking tip of his cock up and down your pussy lips.

“Your pussy is so wet and pretty, so happy you just gave it up to me.” You both moaned in unison as his cock slowly penetrated you. In that moment you partially wished your hands weren’t tied so you could’ve placed it on his abdomen, halting him from any further movements.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he moaned. Your eyes squeezed shut as he began pounding into you, your tits spilling out of the skimpy top you had on. His cock was deep inside you due to the angle, the feeling making your pussy quiver.

“Who’s making you feel this good huh?” he asked, his hands squeezing your hips harshly.

“You are Rafe, you,” you cried out. Your friends had definitely heard your screams.

“Good girl, trust me now?” he chuckled, breathlessly.

“Yes Rafe, I trust you. Faster, please,” you pleaded.

His rough thrusts sped up and the sound of your sloppy pussy and your loud moans filled the bathroom, possibly alerting your friends above.

“I need to feel you cum on my cock baby, you can do it,” he urged.

He went faster and deeper, hitting that spongy spot inside you to draw the orgasm out. Before long, you screamed his name, your pussy squirting all over the bathroom walls as he continued fucking you through your high, pulling everything out of you.

“You’re so fucking hot, good girl,” he cooed.

He began chasing his own orgasm, his hand wrapping around your neck and his other skillfully holding under you as his thrusts grew more sloppy.

“Clench around me baby, I’m gonna pump this sweet pussy full of my cum. Gonna get you fucking pregnant, have you carry my babies inside this sexy body.”

You couldn’t protest even if you wanted to and your walls clamped around him, milking him of every ounce of his cum as he slammed into you. His thrusts grew slower and slower and he held you with one hand, the other unbinding your hands and when he did, he held you close to him, his cock still deep inside your pussy.

You both shivered under each other’s touch, panting slowly subsiding.

You shifted off him, the feeling of his big cock slipping out of you making you wince and whimper at the loss and you sat beside him.

“You look so beautiful and relaxed,” he smirked, pushing your curls behind your ear.

“Well you were right, you could help me relax,” you giggled.

“I’m always right. I meant what I said by the way, you’re gonna carry my babies inside that sexy fucking body,” he smirked, rubbing your stomach.

Before you could respond, there was a pounding on the door, it was your best friend.

“Y/N, what’s all that noise? What’s going on in there?” Cleo called out.

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kateschi · 2 days ago

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same book, different chapters

synopsis: an ordinary evening takes a turn when katsuki expresses what you've always known but never expected to hear.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

being with katsuki is a lesson in unspoken understanding. you knew who he is long before you started dating him—loud, brash, and not the type to share his feelings openly.

but it didn’t take long to realize there’s so much more to him than that. his love is quiet, reserved, and shown in the details:

how he pulls you out of the way of a passing car, or how he remembers the smallest things, like your favorite kind of tea or that you prefer your coffee without sugar.

and that is enough for you. mostly.

you didn’t expect him to be the kind of boyfriend who says "I love you" with ease. katsuki isn’t like that. it isn’t something you hold against him either.

but every now and then, a small part of you wonders what it would be like to hear him say it—to hear those three words slip past his lips in the same way they had from yours.

you say it first, a quiet “I love you” in the middle of a peaceful night when the world outside feels still.

his response comes in the shape of hugging you tighter, securing you in his arms. however, he doesn’t say it back, and you don’t expect him to. you don’t need him to.

still, there are times when you find yourself holding your breath, wondering if one day he’ll actually verbalize it.

it isn’t that you doubt his feelings. katsuki isn’t one to waste time on things or people he doesn’t care about.

you know how much he cares by the way he silently takes care of you, always putting you first in his own way, even when his words are rough around the edges.

it’s just that sometimes, words have a way of making things feel more real.

tonight is one of those easy evenings you cherish—one where you don’t have to think too much about anything. the two of you are in your kitchen, making dinner together, though “together” is generous.

you’re doing most of the work while katsuki stands next to you, arms crossed, casting a critical eye over everything you do.

“you’re putting too much salt,” he says, the frown on his face making you smile.

“pretty sure this is the exact amount the recipe says to use,” you reply, amused at how serious he always gets when it comes to food.

“tch, that recipe’s wrong. I could’ve made this better with my eyes closed.”

“then why don’t you?” you tease, turning your head to glance at him. his gaze is sharp as usual, but the small curve in the corner of his lips betrays him.

“maybe I’ll cook next time,” he grumbles, looking away like the very idea of giving in bothers him.

you laugh softly, enjoying the banter. this is something you love about him—how even in these simple moments, his presence fills the space with a sense of ease.

there’s no pressure to be anything other than yourselves, even when his blunt honesty clashes with your more relaxed approach.

as you stir the pot, you can’t help but let your thoughts wander back to the three words. you know katsuki isn’t the type to say things until he’s ready, and you respect that.

but part of you is curious—would it ever come naturally to him, or would it always be something unspoken between the two of you?

still, as you stand there, the warmth of his steady presence beside you, you realize that maybe you’re okay with it remaining unspoken. katsuki shows his love in ways that don’t need words to validate them.

and then, without warning, you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. you freeze for a moment, caught off-guard.

“katsuki?” you ask, your voice soft, as you lean into him instinctively.

he doesn’t answer right away, just holds you there. his touch isn’t hesitant, but it is different from the usual casual touches you’ve grown used to.

“you’re annoying sometimes,” he mutters, voice low in your ear.

you chuckle, relaxing further into his hold. “I know.”

there’s silence for a beat, and then: “but I love you anyway, idiot.”

you blink, unsure if you’ve heard him correctly. you turn your head slightly, trying to see his face, but he buries it against your neck, hiding his expression. “did you just—?”

“don’t make a big deal out of it,” he mumbles, voice suddenly gruff, though you can hear the embarrassment beneath the words.

a smile breaks across your face, warmth spreading through your chest. you didn’t expect it, but that makes it all the more special. he isn’t saying it because the moment demands it.

he isn’t saying it because you’re waiting. he says it because he wants to, because he feels it.

“I’m not,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably as your happiness bubbles up in your voice. “but…I love you too.”

you feel his grip tighten around you and a kiss pressed to your shoulder.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

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theminecraftbee · 2 days ago

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Cleo sits next to Scott, her head in her hands, and says—

—“I really thought it’d be different this time.” BigB sighs. He kicks his foot. Ren is, at least, a sympathetic ear. He understands these things, or at least he understands that it’s hard to be alone. “I mean, I know you don’t trust those guys…”

“I don’t,” agrees Ren.

“But they reached out, man. And I thought, well,”—

—“I could always bury the hatchet, you know?” Cleo says. “It’s been what, how many games? How many years? And I can recognize when I’m as much of the problem as someone else.”

“You had a reason to be a problem. I love that you’re a problem,” Scott says supportively. Pearl snorts in the corner.

“I’m good at being a problem!” Cleo says

“I know, you are,” Scott agrees.

“But it’s like—I don’t know. Maybe I was ready to be done being angry! Maybe I…”—

—“…just wanted a change.”

BigB is quiet. He lets the thought sit in the air. Ren, normally a man determined to fill silences, at least understands the value of a dramatic pause; he doesn’t say anything yet.

Martyn, however, has grown a bit more impatient over the sessions. "What kind of change? You two have been weird about each other for years."

BigB is quiet a moment more. "Did you know that—Ren, did you know that you were the first and last person to show me trust?"

"Uh, thank you, dude," Ren says.

"But like, the thing is, people, they stabbed us then, man. And it's just..."—

—"...he didn't have to! That's what gets me! He could have like... said anything to me? I don't ask much! I offered him my hand! I said, sure man. I'm gonna forgive you, just this once. We can try again. And he just—he tried to kill you! Why?"

"I mean, Scott is one of the people with the most lives," Impulse says reasonably. "And he didn't betray you."

"That's not how teams work, Impulse," Cleo says. "You can't just get rid of the teammate you don't like. The team is only as strong..."—

—"...as weak as it's component parts."

Ren and Martyn stare.

"Jesus, BigB," Martyn says.

BigB looks away. "Yeah, um, well. I don't think that's that stupid. It's not about you two, really. And this is a death game, right? I didn't attack her. It's just... I wasn't going to, really. I wasn't..."—

—"...he was going to, that's the thing. He's always going to do... this!"

"Maybe that's what you get for reaching out to a traitor," Scott says lightly.

Impulse looks away. Pearl snorts again. Cleo sighs.

"Look, I have a long memory, but if I let that decide everything I do forever it would eat me. And people have their reasons. Impulse, look Scott in the eyes, he's not even the reason you have that reputation. Pearl, you're a part of the team. That's the thing. People can change. People..."—

—"...can't change, really." BigB shrugs. "She should know better by now."

"Uh, dude, should we know better?" Ren asks.

"Nah. I mean, Martyn's worse than I am," BigB says cheerfully.

"Martyn," Ren says, sounding vaguely disappointed. Martyn crosses his arms.

"What? You're the one who said I had evil in me. If you take in a snake, you can't be mad if it bites you. If you take in a scorpion..."—

—"...you can hope it learns not to sting you. I don't know. Maybe it's just in his nature."

Pearl makes a strange noise. "And what's in my nature?"

Cleo sighs. She steps over and throws an arm around Pearl's shoulder.

"As long as you don't bite me? I'm willing to learn." Pearl leans into Cleo's arm slightly. Cleo can't help but wonder, some days, how much of the way she flinches back again is her fault. BigB isn't the only one that Cleo hopes can change his nature. Otherwise...

"I'm not actually a traitor, despite what everyone claims," Impulse says, apropos of nothing.

"You know, you should pick better friends," Scott says.

"Nah," Cleo says. She doesn't elaborate. She just—

—breathes. BigB just breathes.

"It was never going to work, anyway," he says.

"Sometimes I wonder if everyone broke while I wasn't looking," Ren says quietly, sadly. BigB has no answer for that.

#wild life smp #wild life spoilers #bigbst4tz2 #zombiecleo #a bee fic #trafficfic #UHHHH NOT SURE HOW WELL THIS ONE TURNED OUT BUT I WANTED TO TRY THIS DUELING CONVERSATION THING #anyway wailing about this BIGB WHY. CLEO WHY. WEH.

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julymusings · 2 days ago

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will you hold me instead, and tell me that it's over now?

i look forward to a little me and you, so now i hope that you don't tell me that it's over

or; patching jason up after an intense mission [2.1k]

jason todd x fem!reader; angst/fluff; brief mentions of human trafficking and allusion to murder (he's talking about how the mission went); mention of his scars; jason being insecure & thinking he's not good enough😞; description of injuries and the first aid applied to them (please do not take anything as actual medical advice); this is me hard-launching my physical touch x touch starved!jason agenda

You don’t know how early it is when you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing, just that it’s too early. It’s not like you could sleep anyway; you spent the night drifting in and out of semi-consciousness, too worried to let yourself relax. You always got like this when Jason went away on missions. Several days, and sometimes even weeks, spent anxiously anticipating the state in which he would return home—you haven’t been able to get a manicure since before you met him.

You’re still a little delirious when a hand ghosts up your arm, stirring you from your half-sleep. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room and register the sight in front of you. Your boyfriend is on one knee on the floor in front of you, brushing strands of hair out of your face with endearing eyes.

“There she is,” he says when you lift your head off the pillow and reach out to him. He catches your hand and kisses your fingertips, spreading a warmth up your arm that combats the midnight chill. You push yourself up to a sitting position, and he takes the opportunity to cup his hands around your face and bring you in for a kiss.

“Missed you,” you mumble against him, and his lips curve upwards against yours.

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” His mouth travels up from yours towards your temple, leaving a path of gentle kisses in his wake. Your palms, pressed flat against his chest, slide up to loop around his neck. He tenses, choking back a strained grunt. But you catch it.

You pull back abruptly. “Are you hurt?” Your eyes frantically dart around, scanning his entire body. Now fully alert, you reach over to the bedside table and switch the lamp on.

“’s just a bruise, baby, I’m fine.” A hand comes up to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness. But with newly unobstructed vision, you can see more than just a bruise. He has a busted lip, a shallow gash on his temple, and splotches of purple and red peeking out of his shirt collar.

“You’re bleeding, Jason,” you chastise him, getting up off the bed.

He stands alongside you with a huff. “It’s nothing,” he sighs. “Doesn’t even hurt.” But when you take his hand and start pulling him to the bathroom, he follows without argument. You lead Jason to sit down on the edge of the tub and fetch the first aid kit from under the sink, setting it down next to him on the bathtub ledge. You stand between his legs, your positions making you a half-head taller than him. He gazes up at you and for the first time tonight you notice how dark and deep the skin under his eyes is.

“Off,” you order, dragging up the hem of his shirt. He helps you pull it off, wincing when it requires him to lift his bruised arm.

“Someone’s eager,” he muses, raising his eyebrows in a teasing manner. It earns him a swat on the arm; he grunts loudly and doubles over in pain.

You gasp. “Oh my god! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I—”

But when he looks up, it’s with a coy smirk and a twinkle in his eye. You swat him again.

“Asshole,” you mutter, but you can’t help the slight twitch at the corner of your lips. “Why didn’t you take care of this earlier? Alfred wasn’t at the manor to help you?”

He shrugs his good shoulder. “Don’t know. Came straight here.”

“Did you tell anyone where you were going?” You ask.

He looks at you blankly, as if to say, don’t you know who you’re talking to?

You sigh, exasperated. “You shouldn’t have done that, Jason. What if ended up becoming serious? And you didn’t make it here in time? What if—”

He interrupts your doom spiral by pressing a finger to your lips. “I know, honey, I’m sorry. But I wanted to see you.”

You sigh. There’s a sadness to it, one that comes from familiarity with the fact that he does not care for himself as much as he should—as much as he deserves. But there are no words to make him believe it that you haven’t tried, so all you do is lean your forehead against his, hoping he can hear what you're not saying. You need him to hear you.

“You’re not sorry,” you whisper.

“No, I’m not,” he whispers back.

You start with his shoulder, which was decidedly not ‘just a bruise,’ but actually several bruises, all clumped together to form one giant Franken-bruise that covered his entire shoulder. It gets rubbed with ointment and you’re not sure who it pains more, because while you’re spilling out frantic apologies as you try to speed through it, Jason is white-knuckling the edge of the tub with a wad of gauze between his teeth.

His lip doesn’t require any medical attention, but he insists you kiss it better anyway, and who are you to deny him?

You tend to his temple last, but he’s antsy now. His leg bounces up and down, one hand is drumming its fingers on the tub, and the other is fiddling with the loose threads that hang from the hem of your shirt; you have to scold him into sitting still.

“Where’s the dermabond?” You ask, sifting through the contents of the first aid kid.

“Used it up last month, remember? After you just had to feed that fuckin’ squirrel.” His voice is gruff at the recollection. “Should be a new pack under the sink.”

You fetch the new box, picking at the plastic wrapping. “Can you blame me? He was so cute.”

“Yeah, was. Until that greedy fucker decided he wanted the whole picnic.” Jason sees you struggling with the plastic covering and takes it from you, breaks it open, then hands it back. “Bastard.”

You giggle. “You know, you could’ve just let him have the cupcake. It wasn’t worth risking rabies for.” You fish out the glass tube of surgical glue, tossing its cardboard box aside.

“‘Course it was. My girl wanted red velvet, she should get her red velvet.” Jason’s hands finally rest on the backs of your bare thighs, squeezing them lightly. He grins when that makes you let out a little squeak.

You roll your eyes, though there’s a warmth flowing in your veins that courses from the tips of your ears to the bottom of your feet. “My hero,” you muse with a smile.

There’s a pause. Then:

“I’m not a hero,” he responds. His tone is still light, but his eyes feel far away.

You start to clean the blood from the wound, which has since clotted and dried, with a saline-soaked cotton pad. He stares at you while you clean and then close the cut with the glue. And when you finish, supplies set aside and glue cured, he’s still staring. His eyes are traveling all over your face, taking in each feature, committing every ridge, every angle, every pore, every freckle to memory. The light-hearted teasing demeanor from mere moments ago is long gone. You're a deer caught in emerald headlights.

You recognize this shift. You noticed hints of it since he arrived home, but assumed it was just due to the pain. Now it’s obvious that there’s more. It’s the same shift that comes when the news becomes a circus, or when he stares at his scars in the mirror for too long.

His hands slide up your body slowly, reverently. One stops at your waist while the other continues, blazing a trail up your ribcage, over the side of your breast. He pauses at your shoulder for a split second, squeezing the flesh every so gently before continuing up your neck. His thumb drags across your collarbone, brushing against the spot that always lights up your senses and parts your lips in a breathy sigh. He stops when he reaches your face. He cups your cheek. Your hand covers his and you lean into his hold, the stroke of your small, soft fingers juxtaposing the rough callouses of his knuckles. You stay here for a moment before turning to press your lips to his palm once, twice, thrice, four times, each one lingering a little longer than the last.

“What is it, Jason?” Your hands come to cradle his neck before dragging up to his hair, and his move to wrap around your torso and pull you closer into him. You place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Hmm?”

“I’m not a hero,” he says again, softer.

“Jay,” you whisper. “You know that’s not true.”

He says nothing, only heaving a heavy sigh and burying his face into the crook of your neck. You’re content to stand like this, to simply hold him and graze your nails against his scalp for as long as he needs while he inhales the comforting scent of your skin.

After what could have been one minute or twenty, he pulls back to look up at you. He looks exhausted. “It was a human trafficking case,” he says. “They knew we were closing in on ‘em, so we had to act fast. They were…trying to…” He trails off, unsure how to put it in words delicate enough to spare you. He breaks eye contact. “Destroy the evidence,” he finishes.

You don’t respond. Despite the heavy silence that follows this admission, you know he’s not done. It takes another several minutes of stroking fingers and feather-light hairline kisses to coax it out of him.

“There was a woman. She…we didn’t—“ His voice cracks. “I didn’t get there in time.”

“Oh, honey.” You run your palm over his forehead, pushing back his thick waves. His eyelids slide down over glassy irises as he sinks into your touch. You lean down to press your lips to his forehead. “You know that’s not your fault,” you whisper. He shakes his head, eyes still closed.

“But if I’d just—”

“No, Jason.” You grip his face between your palms. He opens his eyes at the sudden sternness. “But nothing. You did everything you possibly could—”

“You don’t know that,” he interrupts.

“I do know that. I know because you are always doing everything you can. For me, and for everyone in this city. And I know that it wasn’t just you on that mission. Do you blame anyone else for what happened?”

He says nothing, but his eyes are welling with tears.

“You saved so many other people, Jason. You are a hero, and you know that. You have to know that.” Some of his tears spill over, but you brush your thumbs across his cheeks and kiss them away.

He pulls you onto his lap so your legs are straddled over his and rests his head against your sternum. His arms squeeze impossibly tight around your waist, but you don’t say anything. When his shoulders tremble and you feel the dampness on the front of your shirt, you still don’t say anything. And when he places a hand on the back of your head to pull you in for a hard, searing kiss that leaves you both breathless, you don’t say anything. You just look at him, at how pretty he is, and hope that he can hear you.

The sounds of buzzing echo in from the next room. To your dismay, he turns away, towards the direction of your phones. “I should get that,” he says. His voice is hollow. “It’s probably the bats wanting to know where I am. They’ll send a search party if I don’t check in.”

He’s about to move you off his lap, but you stop him. “In a minute, Jay.”

Jason’s forehead crinkles. You use your thumb to smooth it out.

“Please?” You breathe out. “Just let me look at you a little longer. I love looking at you.”

He relaxes back into his seat. And you keep looking at him. At his beautifully rosy cheeks and shining eyes, his puffed lips. The scar that runs diagonally down his slightly crooked nose.

It’s dawn now; the tangerine beginnings of sunrise elicit a soft glow that spills through the window. Jason takes it all in. The two of you together in the home you share, arms around each other, your face all honeyed and beautiful in the light.

And you know he can hear you.

love when you guys leave messages/feedback it really brightens up my day<3

divider is from here

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samw1se · 3 days ago

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I was born blind in my left eye. It never got fixed. Many of these points are true in my experience, except I still have an eyeball. Here are some additional fun facts from my realm of experience:

-my elementary school knew I was blind in one eye but did not tell my parents. I started to get a little farsighted in the 4th grade so I went to get readers and the eye doctor told me, a nine year old girl, that my life was forever fucked and I’d never be fully independent, never drive, never go to college, because I was disabled and it was too late to fix it. We got a second opinion. And then a third.

- (you can try to fix my kind of blindness up until about the age of five because the brain is still really elastic and capable of fixing the broken shit. They fix it by putting a patch over your good eye to force your bad eye to see. They tried it when I was nine but it was too late, so I essentially spent a year having my life ruined by being suddenly completely blind all the time and it sucked ass.)

- you make a great marksman and baseball batter once you figure out how your lack of depth perception works. Not a great outfielder though.

- things sometimes just kind of vanish on you. I got a massive concussion as a kid from running into a pole head on. The pole had been there as long as I could remember. I interacted with the pole every day. But one day I was running and the last thing I remember is thinking, hey, where did the pole go? Like the equipment holding it up was still there but the pole just seemed gone. This also happened several times to me when trying to catch pop flies or headbutt soccer balls. They’d just go away.

- people will indeed forget all the time and throw shit at you from the blind side and hit you in the head, or hug you and scare the shit out of you. A boy asked me out once after he hit me with a frisbee on my blind side.

- and then some people will always think of you when they encounter one eyed things. When I was an RA in college, some of my residents were so very pleased to bring me a one-eyed goldfish they’d found in the feeder tank at the pet store 😩 we named him one eyed Willy and he lived for like five years and survived two cross country trips in a car (in a Nalgene bottle both ways)

- I don’t have a traditional lazy eye (my eyeball can see but there is no connection between it and my brain so the message goes unrecieved) so I don’t really have much of a wandering eye, unlike other folks with amblyopia. I can also only cross my good eye, I cannot wink with my good eye without moving my entire face (and I had to learn how to do this by pushing my cheek and forehead muscles together with my hands until I could do it on my own so I look very stupid) and my good eye also tends to have trouble when looking at blue light for too long since it gets all the strain.

-additionally, the only times my eye seems to look lazy is in the occasional picture. I call it my googly eye.

- re writing advice: I took a writing class in college where we spent a lot of time journaling about our own bodies and then writing stories with what we had learned… my wonderful teacher guessed that I was blind in my left eye because of how I described things. I never used left or right when talking about objects being around characters’ bodies, only front and back. She fucked me up with that one.

- I get a lot of bruises on my left arm because I struggle with depth perception when walking around corners/doors on that side

- they gave me glasses as a kid to try to fix it after patching didn’t work (leading to the discovery that I don’t have a traditional lazy eye) and the left side was the biggest and thickest fucking lens you’ve ever seen and the right side was just normal glass no rx. It made the glasses sit crooked on my face so I stopped wearing them.

- they test you for amblyopia during your drivers license test and I cheated both times I’ve had to go take it 🙃 they put a ball on one lens and a box on the other and they ask if the ball is inside or outside the box and I didn’t see no goddamn ball but the man next to me said it was inside so I did too.

- if I hadn’t cheated, I could still get a license, just with a special note on it, which i didn’t know both times I cheated.

- and yes, cannot agree more with being a safe ass driver. People get frustrated because I follow so far behind other cars and give people so much room all the time but I have a clean ass driving record.

- following that, I have a hard time sitting in the front seat when someone else is driving, especially if they are tailgaters because I feel like I am always about to crash. My husband, a notorious tailgater, says I have an invisible break I hit whenever he’s too close to someone.

- my parents made me go to a chiropractor as a kid to see if the reasoning for my blindness was a pinched nerve. It did not work.

- a redditor once told me he would end himself if he were ‘as cursed as’ me because the idea of being blind in one eye was so insanely distasteful to him. I tried explaining to him that it’s literally the only life I’ve ever known and he kept trying to tell me it was disgusting and unnatural and I lived a hideous life. I was like, dude. Go to therapy.

- if you are blind in one eye but still have an eyeball, you have one fun fact for Two Truths and a Lie always directly on hand and no one will ever guess that’s a truth.

- I am especially clumsy, and sometimes when I get up to do something and start knocking shit down, my husband plays the Godzilla theme song in his phone and it always makes me die laughing.

- when my parents found out, they demanded to know why I didn’t tell them, and I had to explain to them that it was literally all I’ve ever known, how did I know it was wrong? I thought everyone could only see one side of their nose.

Sorry this got long. I can’t sleep lol.

writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.

#this was fun and long #it really doesn’t affect me like people seem to think #apart from being a big fucking klutz #people are always like #HOW DO YOU LIVE #idk dude I really didn’t get offered anything else so

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strawberrykidneystone · 2 days ago

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lend an arm

summary: you’re a mechanic who sevika refused to work with until one day she comes back with her arm ripped off

a/n: idk if the title makes sense but it’s a play on lend a hand but yk,,, she lost her whole arm😋

tags: fluff, banter, mention of hooking up, less spicy than i thought it was gonna be whoops, smoking

ty anon for the request!!!

ao3 version

when you were hired as silco’s handyman, you imagined you would be working with sevika a lot to add upgrades to her arm, fix her arm after combat, etc. etc.

nope.

quite the opposite. you were met with the cold shoulder every time, a gruff out ‘i can do it myself’ before she stomps off to the corner of silco’s office to tinker with her arm. you’re sure there’s a masturbation joke there somewhere, but you haven’t quite thought of a clever enough one to say aloud.

did you hook up with her a few times? yes. was it your proudest moment? no, but damn was it good.

given that, most of your time was spent with jinx, albeit sometimes more than you’d like. you love the girl to bits, but sometimes she can be a bit… much. still, you liked her music taste and you got on well enough, not to mention her inventions were quite clever, not that you’d ever say it to her; she's already got quite the ego.

still, the blue haired girl was still family or whatever you’d call it. you knew she was still sneaking into her lab and pretended to be none the wiser, but you’re pretty sure that she knew you knew.

although sevika refused your help, you couldn’t help but notice how she’d glance up every time she tweaked something on her arm, as if she were searching for approval from you. you’d make eye contact with her and glance down at what she’d fixed, giving an approving nod or shaking your head depending on what she did. each time you nodded, you’d swear you saw a blush creep up her ears. if you shook your head though, she’d scowl and vigorously undo her work and redo it until either she was satisfied with it or look to get your approval again. it was a cute little game you two would play, but you knew you’d be able to make the fixes about 10x faster if she would only let you.

and the silco died.

with nowhere else to go and determined not going to join any side in the turf war for the lanes, that left you the last drop where you’d been sleeping on the couch in his old office. damn, you still couldn’t believe that he was gone. sure he was an asshole most of the time, but he was one of the people and at least tried to keep give shithole of the undercity some sort of organization.

whatever, at least his couch was comfy.

you were tinkering with one of jinx’s old chompers in silco’s office when sevika came barreling in. you jumped a bit from the slam of the door and looked at the panting figure in the doorway. she had her poncho covering the front of her body, but the lumpiness under the cloth alarmed you that something was wrong. she wordlessly walked past you and threw her poncho off to the side, revealing her flesh arm holding her mechanical arm under her armpit. the gears sticking out of the stump of her mechanical arm told you that someone had ripped it out, and she was pissed.

she slammed her arm on the table and grumbled to herself, grabbing a flathead screwdriver from the table of her former boss’ desk. she stabbed the head in and cursed under her breath, muttering something about a ‘pink haired brat’ as she attempted to fix her mechanical limb. she spent a good 10 minutes trying to fix the arm with her one good hand. you minded your business and kept your eyes on your book, studying about the latest technology in the upper city, hextech.

until you heard it. she sighed and turned around, leaning her back against the table, saying something quietly in your direction. you lifted your head and tilted it questioningly to the side, “what was that?”

sevika huffed and dragged her hand down her face, “can you fix my arm?”

a small grin crept up your lips, oh you were gonna have fun with this, “what’s the magic word?”

sevika deadpanned at you and rolled her eyes, but was too tired to argue, “…please.”

you clapped your hands together and happily stood up, “yes! i’ve been waiting for this!”

you basically pushed her aside as you quickly got to work on her arm, trying to undo as much damage as you could. after about an hour, you were able to restore basic function in the arm, but one good punch could make the whole thing fall apart all over again. you straightened up and looked around the room to see where she had gone, you really fell into your own world as you worked. looking around, you saw her on the couch fixated down, the same area where your ass had been only moments before. you cleared your throat which seemed to snap her out of her trance, her head snapping up to meet your eyes.

you held her arm up and gestured for her to come over. she scrambled up to meet you at your side, holding her arm out expectantly. brushing past her, you attached her arm back on with a satisfying ‘click’ at it latched into place. you took a step back to let her adjust to it again. she clenched her hand into a fist and turned her hand over, admiring your handiwork. she hummed in approval and looked down at you with a glint of respect in her eyes that you’d never seen before.

“that should do for now, but you’ll probably need a new arm if you don’t want to get your ass beat,” you smirked as you dusted off your hands off on your pants.

“thought that you fixed it?,” she said with a raised eyebrow. her tone was meant not in an attacking manner, but more curiosity on the actual damage of her arm.

“i’m a mechanic, not a miracle worker,” you chided, crossing your arms over your chest.

sevika raised her arms in relinquishment, a half smirk gracing her lips, “easy princess, ‘meant no offense to your skills.”

“uh huh,” you responded sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you patted her shoulder.

she sighed and looked down, glancing back up at you in reluctance, “what i meant was… thank you.”

you raised your eyebrows in surprise, but smiled at the sentiment, “you’re welcome, i just wish i could’ve helped more earlier.”

“earlier?” she asked in a neutral tone, taking a cigarette out of her pocket and putting it in the corner of her mouth, lighting it with one hand while she cupped around her mouth with the other. she took a quick drag and blew the smoke away from you, letting the cigarette rest lazily between her fingers.

“y’know, before silco died. if you had let me work on your arm and upgrade it, it probably wouldn’t have broken in the first place,” you said matter-of-factly, plucking the cigarette from her fingers and taking a puff, purposefully blowing it towards her.

“my arm was fine, it was just this one time,” she responded gruffly, taking another drag from the cigarette. you shrugged and glanced over her arm, subconsciously making sure that every part was working as it should.

“…where the hell should i get a new arm?” she asked as nonchalantly as she could, but a little more waiver of worry still came through in her voice.

you looked up at her and grinned, pointing up, “the answer is closer than you think.”

she looked up and jumped a little seeing the blue haired girl, “jesus jinx.”

nothing made sevika jump, she must’ve really been on edge with silco’s death.

jinx giggled and shook her head, “fine, but i want complete creative control.”

sevika sighed defeatedly and looked at you for any sort of help, which of course you gave none.

“fine.”

#arcane #arcane jinx #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #sevika #reader x sevika #sevika fluff #arcane season 2 #arcane fan fic #strawberrykidneystone writes #strawberrykidneystone

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rinachains · 1 day ago

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suguru was pleasantly surprised when you shook him awake this early morning and told him in a groggy voice that you wanted to take a shower together.

both of your bodies are still a little sore from the night before, as evidenced by the small bruises and marks scattered across your skin.

it's rare that you and suguru shower together since you prefer to shower at night while he prefers to shower in the morning. you also once explained to him that you like your space in there and that another person would kind of overwhelm you, so the idea of cleaning up together never really appealed to you.

he respected that, of course, but not without a tiny, little pout on his lips.

but now the two of you are standing in your shower stall, the glass door fogged from the warm water you always use, and the fresh, soothing scent of suguru's shampoo lingering in the stuffy air.

droplets of water cover your bare bodies, glistening, as suguru's back is turned to you so that you can wash his hair.

you can't help but admire the way his long, black locks cascade down the muscles of his broad back like ink accidentally spilled over a precious letter.

even though it doesn't seem like a big deal, you know that the fact that you can wash his hair is a sign of trust that only you are granted. his hair is important to him, he can be quite stingy when it comes to it - or dramatic, as you like to call it sometimes - and the realization that suguru even asked you to wash it for him makes you more than giddy.

taking more product into your hands, you rub them together to make the shampoo lather, and you have to reach up slightly to massage the product into his scalp in circular motions.

suguru's head falls back into your gentle, working hands with a low groan, the sound echoing through the small space.

"I could get used to this," he sighs, a pleased smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

you snort behind him, "don't. this is basically a once in five years occurrence."

"mhm, I guess I should tire you out the night before more often then. it makes you quite cooperative."

a slight hiss escapes him as he feels a sharp tug on his hair.

"oh, sorry, I forgot that this is reserved for our bedroom," you say in a false, innocent tone, and suguru reaches a hand behind him to grab your wrist and halt your movements.

he glances over his shoulder, only to see an amused, mocking expression on your beautiful face. there's still a drowsy look clouding your half-lidded eyes, a puffiness that makes your cheeks and your lips plump, and he's suddenly overcome with the need to lift you into his arms and squeeze you against his chest until both of your lungs threaten to collapse.

"do you realize that we're both naked right now and that you're doing this?" he asks lowly with an arch of his thin brow. the grip on your wrist in his large palm is loose, a ghostly touch that you could easily free yourself from.

you simply shrug, "it's not my fault if it gets you off, I don't really see anything erotic about it right now. besides, you started with the dirty talk."

huffing in return, he turns back to face the wall and lets go of your wrist, but not before quickly bringing it to his lips and planting a light, ticklish kiss on it.

"that's hardly dirty talk from me, you should know that."

"I do, but your quality is not always consistent either."

"I wonder how someone can be so sweet and mean at the same time."

a humming noise emanates from you, automatically sending a shiver down his spine, "I can only throw the question back at you."

suguru can't stop a grin from forming on his flushed face, and his eyelids flutter shut as you touch a sensitive spot on his scalp.

"guess that's why we're here, huh."

#geto suguru x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #suggestive #fluff #jjk fluff #jjk suggestive #geto x reader fluff #suguru x reader fluff #oh to take a shower with suguru #geto x reader #suguru geto x you

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emilsendo · 1 day ago

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Can you please make a muzan oneshot, smut with aftercare and muzan being alittle protective of m! Reader...

Thank you! <3

With pleasure I'll make this request! Take care💪🏼✨️👀

Also, I apologize for any errors in the text. I hope you will enjoy it.

_______________________________________

It was a day like any other, everyone looked the same. You, as a rank 0 higher moon demon, AND as the husband of the demon king, had a wide reputation among demons and humans alike. However, Muzan Kibutsuji didn't treat your strength like the others, he loved you too much to care if you were powerful enough. For him, you were and are his property, which he must protect against possible threats. Mainly rivals created by your handsome appearance. But who would dare to endanger the MUZAN himself? Probably just a real suicide.

Y/N was currently walking through the forest after mercilessly killing a man from the village he was passing by. As an Upper Moon demon, he must eat quite regularly in order for his strength to remain the same or even greater. Even if he sometimes has some signs of humanity in his heart, he still doesn't care much about this feeling. He had long since rid himself of the feeling of guilt in his soul, all in order to be able to kill more effectively and faster. He is about 600 years old, has adapted to living in the body of a creature and killing those who resist his actions. Y/N remembers almost nothing from his past, except for the feeling of weakness... his heart only remembers how he felt then, not what he was like and what his life was like, did he have a family? Did he have a wife and children? Was he someone important? Nothing. Emptiness.

While listening to the sounds of nature, he heard another sound, but of feet pattering behind him and then next to him. It was as if this person was fast enough to somehow teleport. Y/N looked at them, his c/e eyes meeting rainbow ones. It was none other than Doma, who no one likes because... he's the least bit annoying.

— Hello, Lord Y/N~! How is our handsome boy? — he asked with a practiced and false tone of joy, something that was probably the reason why no one liked him. Y/N remained unfazed by his presence, but he felt a certain irritation. Doma moved in on him far too many times, as if he wanted more than a punch to the jaw.

— How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? Don't you have anything else to do? — he replied with a great show of dislike towards the demon next to him, looking at him out of the corner of his eye with his deadly gaze, which usually made every demon and human bend more than one knee. But not Doma, this type has too much of a disregard for other people's needs.

— Aww~ Ice cold as always, huh? I'm just trying to be nice to Muzan's lover~.... — he said. And his voice and facial expression were like a child who didn't get what he wanted.

—You'll be nice when you get out of here.— Y/N finally looking at the shorter man with his full perspective. However, instead of an answer, he received a kiss, which shocked him. He automatically pushed him away and punched him in the jaw hard enough to tear off half his face, staining his hands with blood. Doma looked at him with a strange look, maybe if his face was intact it would look better... The man smiled slyly as if he was proud of what he had done, lightly touching his newly regenerated jaw.

Muzan won't be happy with the fact that his "property" has been touched and Y/N knows it, which is why he felt a slight twinge in his stomach from the stress. Because he'll get hurt too.

—Who the fuck are you? — a deep and loud voice asked, while the sounds of limbs and bones being torn to shreds echoed throughout the room. The muzzled hand was tearing apart Doma's body, and Doma was not reacting much to any of these harms. The brunette's blood-red eyes scanned the demon in front of him, who was kneeling.

—How dare you disregard my order? How dare you TOUCH something that belongs to me? — he grabbed the blonde by the forehead, his claw drilling a hole in the skull. He then caused his cells to slowly melt Doma's body.

Upper Rank 2 began bleeding from the inside, choking on a red substance. Pulsating, almost purple veins appeared on his skin.

—I should kill you....But you are a useful demon because of your loyalty. However, one more move like that... and I will personally expose you to the sun.— Muzan threatened, letting his brother go free.

—Muzan....I'm sorry, honey. I had no way to react to protect myself from Doma's kiss... I didn't expect it. - you whispered, your voice sounding completely different because of the way the veins that carry Muzan's blood tightened around your weave. You were in a kneeling position in front of your husband, who was sitting on a chair, his chin resting on his hand and his eyes down on your apologetic form. He had you like this for a while now, letting his anger out on you.

—.....— Muzan closed his eyes and then stopped controlling his cells, letting you breathe. His gaze moved to the side, ignoring you. You could see from a mile away that he was still pissed at you.

The moment you gained access to breathing again, you gasped. Coughing heavily from the dryness in my throat and the lack of oxygen. But you didn't have time to feel sorry for yourself, you had to console Muzan somehow, before he will kill useful demons.

You stepped closer to Muzan, resting your head on his knee.

—I love you, you know?— you said, knowing that this sentence would calm Muzan down instantly. The man finally looked at you, his gaze still as cold as ice. But his eyes became less wild, clear evidence that he had calmed down. His hand gently grabbed your chin, stroking it lightly with his thumb.

— I know. I love you too, you're like a toxin that makes me sick. But it is also very....addictive.— Muzan pulls your body up by your hand, he also stood up. Making you both switch positions, where this time you are sitting and he is kneeling.

— However, I want you to make me realize this by fucking me.— he said with a smirk. His tone was seductive and his eyes were filled with lust and horniness. Your member twitch at that sight, you couldn't resist your husband's "request", when it was clearly what you desired too deep down. Before you answered, Muzan already was working your pants off, he rip them off to be honest. Exposing your big and hard length that he loves so much, his tongue licks his lower lip, getting ready to the delicious taste he will have on it by a few seconds.

He opens his lips wide, already trying to deepthroat your dick with his tight canal. Making you hiss from pleasure and tighten your grip on the chair, claws digging into the wooden furniture. Your King sucks every good spots, pulling away for a while to spit on your cock to make it more wet. His tongue lick your tip, kissing it passionately as if making out with it, before going back down to your shaft. Licking up and down, massaging your balls and squeezing them from time to time. Making your head be on cloud 9 and resisting the urge to fuck your husband's throat. He wets your cock so good that it made such a sloppy sounds that made Muzan's mind go crazy, he only wants you to rile him like the last whore and then shower with affection. That's why he grabbed roughly your wrist and put it on his head, signaling you to control his movements.

You didn't waste any time in making him choke and gag all over your large cock, you could feel his nails pressing into your skin on thighs from pleasure and the feeling of your rough treatment. The feeling of a colossal hand gripping his hair, that clearly belong to you made his own dick almost cream his pants from excitement. And when you finally came in his mouth, he swallowed it eagerly like a treasure. His lips all red and swollen from sucking and having his mouth filled with something so thick.

— Take my clothes off. Now.— he damanded, but his voice sounds so needy and almost desperate. While he tried to mask it by cleaning your dick off from the rest of cum. You pull him on your lap with one move of your arm, making him gasp a bit. Before you took off his whole clothes, your gaze fixed on his expression that showed a pure lust. Muzan's mouth instinctively wrap itself around your fingers, wetting them as if he knows by the look on your face what you want him to do.

— Good slut.— you said with a smirk and satisfaction, even if your husband doesn't seem to like this nickname. (He feels butterflies in his stomach but his mind refuse to accept it)

— I am NOT a slut.— he said with serious tone, sounding a bit stern.

— Then I'll have to prove you wrong. Cause sluts like you can take cocks like mine without preparation.— You said, making Muzan look at you in confusion and he understood in a second what you meant.

— Oi, no!— he tried to protest in panic, his eyes widen, a loud scream from pleasure and pain left his mouth as you slam your cock inside him with one, smooth move. You groan at the tightness around your cock, it almost felt like it's sucking you inside.

— Don't cry, honey... I know you like it. Good slut-husbands like you are experts in satisfing your beloved.— you whisper in his ear, wiping his tears off from his cheeks. You looked at his expression that was a mix of pleasure and pain, his teeth clenched from the feeling of you deep inside him, touching his prostate with the tip of your cock.

Muzan was quiet for a few seconds, before he chuckles from esctasy and his red eyes fixed on you. He tighten his gummy like walls around your member to tease you and motivate you into fucking him.

— Of course.....I'll take care of your crotch like a good husband slut.— Muzan's lips kissed your face, starting with you forehead and ending at your lips. He really do love you for agreeing for you to call him this way....

Next thing he knows was you making him bounce like a desperate bunny on your dick, making sloppy sounds from going in and out of his entrance. The sounds of his loud moaning, mewling and your grunts and groans spread all over his office. Muzan's hair were messy and wet from sweat. His eyes unfocused. His sharp nails digging intl your shoulders. His legs shaking. His walls clenched and unclenched from pleasure and overstimulation. You hit his prostate over and over again, making him wanna cry to heavens.... or to hell.

Suddenly, you stand up with him in your arms, surprising him a bit as he got placed on his desk with legs spread. His back met the surface of the wooden furniture, he pants like a dog as he watched you put his legs on your shoulders, making your balls made a contact with his ass. He whimpers from that feeling.

— Fuck me.....Fuck your slutty husband.....fill me with your hiers and have the satisfaction of owning the King of demons~— Muzan said with a smirk, chest going up and down from breathing hard. That words went straight to your cock, twitching inside your lover. Your gaze like a predator, as you move oncr again. Hips snapping back and forth hard and deep, as if you were seriously trying to make him pregnant or break. He grip onto the edges of his desk, almost destroying it with his demonic strength. The pre-cum made it easier for you to go in and out of his warm and wet ass. His entrance sucked you greedy in, as if not planning for you to leave it.

— Such a good slut for me, huh? Your tiny hole seems not to want me to let go.— you said between moans, rubbing his pale waist in your hands.

— Uh-huh.....Haah...haaah...haaah...Not let go....haah...HAAH....HAAHH...— he said dumbly, without thinking twice before saying it. Feeling stupid from esctasy.

Hours passed, it was already morning and you two only just done having sex. You slip your cock out of his hole, making the cum drip from Muzan's ass. You looked at your dear husband that you spent your whole life as a demon. Admiring his appearance that looked so messy. It's kinda sad that the marks you left regenerate faster than you blink...But you still felt satisfaction, because you owned THE Muzan Kibutsuji.

— Very well, Y/N......you kept me satisfy.— Kibutsuji said, his voice breathless but his gaze intense. He pulls you towards him with strong grip, making you lay on top of his body. Rubbing your back and head with his hand.

— But you have to make me a bath with rose petals.— he demand, looking down at you with a smile. You snuggle against his chest, squeezing his nipples between your fingers. Making him glare at you.

— Control yourself. I want bath.—

— Hehehe....— you laughed nervously.

#male reader #anime #gay #oneshot #request #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #muzan kibutsuji #kny muzan #rough kink #no prep #breeding k1nk #dom male reader #top male reader

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zyafics-recs · 2 days ago

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reblogging comment review from @zyafics

everytime i read this series i feel like im entering the battlefield 🚬😮‍💨my annotations below hehe ⬇️

It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?

ur writing has such PERSONALITY in it, i swear to god when i read this in beta, i was so in awe

Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.

this parallels perfectly to the first chapter where topper called rafe when reader was leaving, so not only is this paragraph giving us an at-point breakdown, but it's referring evidence that topper would slip and tell rafe

It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.

their lives are so intertwined that reader doesn't know who to turn to when she needs independence 😭 oh curse rafe and his big dick

Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean.

this specific paragraph i wanted to highlight because i thought it was so descriptive and imaginative, but simplistic in a way that didn't feel like it was purple prose.

The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either.

the last line EATS BITCH IT EATS

“You should sit down.”

oh suck a dick

It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.

in love to hate omg

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”

THIS IS SO COLD BUT IT SHOWED HOW THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS SO WELL, HOW INTERTWINED THEY ARE WITH ONE ANOTHER

And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.

i would crashout

Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.

hm.

This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.

they're so toxic and dynamic and i love them

Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here.

that stopped me cold i had to write something in my diary

His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours. A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall. "Yeah? Get in line."

LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN I'M LISTENING TO BAD OMENS BY 5SOS AND IT'S AT THE BEATS AND WHILE I READ THIS, IT FITTED PERFECTLY OHMYGOD

Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.

i wanted to highlight this specific paragraph because i adore the writing, something about it made me feel every single atom of the scene

“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—”“And what?” you interrupted.“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”“You’re not coming in."He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”

HE DIDN'T EXPECT THAT SHIT NO NO

“Yeah, I got someone.”

that's right baby tell em

💌 — ugh, something about this part has been so dynamic, in the way it's constructed, the way it flows so naturally, the way the dialogues are so emotionally-charged but bounces off one another seamlessly. it was like i was watching a perfectly-curated film, where the dialogues were performed by seasoned actors. i love love their arguments. i love how intense it always gets, how they have this push-pull against each other, this hate-love, this line they can't even comprehend nor define. and i love how you written it so beautifully, that you communicate the intensity and depth of this relationship but aggression, tension, and hurt.

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - FIVE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care

You’ve had to make a lot of unfortunate decisions in your life.

Choosing a place for your entire family to rest for eternity, picking the caskets, the headstones—it felt like deciding which curtains to buy for the house, except you were burying your entire close family.

After the crash, your parents were gone instantly, just like that—no goodbyes, no warning, just there one moment and gone the next.

But your sister survived. Three days. You thought maybe that was a sign, she’d live despite everything, and you wouldn’t be left alone.

Two weeks later, the doctors told you it was time, but you couldn’t accept it. You held her hand, begging her to stay, telling her every promise you could think of if she opened her eyes.

When the monitors finally went flat, you couldn’t feel anything but desperation. Rafe had to pull you out of there, his arms locked around you while you kicked and screamed, sobbing and begging your sister not to go, not to leave you here.

You fought him with everything you had left, clawing, crying, pleading for just one more second. You were screaming so loud you didn’t even recognize your voice. Everything good had been ripped away from your hands, there was nothing left of the world you’d known.

After that, you remember sitting in some stuffy funeral home office, skimming through catalogs and hardly seeing the pages through your tears. The caskets all looked the same, the types of wood made no difference to you, fabric linings, all of it felt so wrong.

None of it was a choice you should have to make.

It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?

You just picked something neutral and blank, something that didn’t require thought or emotion because, by then, you had nothing left to give.

Now you were trapped again, caught between a rock and a hard place.

Ruthie—no chance you’d involve her. She’d just see this as another fucked up piece of gossip she could hold over your head, another way to judge or control you. She was “friend” only in the loosest sense of the word.

Kelce was the last person you’d consider turning to for something this serious. He has always been there, but you never got close. He was too much of an instigator, always pushing Rafe to do reckless things he’d regret later, peer pressuring him in ways that made you wonder if he even knew what loyalty meant. He had this weird loyalty to Ruthie, defending her comments as if she was some misunderstood angel when really, she was just… mean.

So that left Sarah.

It felt weird, thinking of her as the person you’d call on for something so serious, she was the only one who felt… safe. She wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t pry, she’d seen what the worst kind of family conflict could do, and she’d keep this private, just for you.

It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.

You were pretty sure no one in this town would fully understand, they’d just offer their "advice," as if they knew you, seen what you’d been through.

The truth was, they didn’t know shit. They hadn't seen you holding your sister’s hand, begging her to stay alive. They didn’t know what it was like to bury everything that made you feel like a person, like you belonged somewhere, and have to get up the next day like nothing happened.

Nine days, you would be halfway across the country, and you needed someone. You pictured saying it out loud: “I’m pregnant", just those two words, to someone’s face, you had no idea what to say next.

Maybe you’d tell them that it wasn’t about wanting it gone out of spite or shame, but because you couldn’t bring a child into a world where you felt this alone.

Earlier that morning, you’d stared down at your phone, thumb itching to click on Sarah’s name, like just pressing "call" could fix everything. You despised how needy it made you feel—reaching out, when you’d prided yourself on surviving alone.

You didn’t have much time to ponder about it, because you were stuck at the beach cleanup.

Just like every other summer, another "social responsibility" event that your late father’s foundation insisted you smile through. Even back then, when they were alive, your summers were a carousel of charity galas, fundraisers, endless hours of small talk, and impeccably arranged seating charts.

The board members of the foundation probably thought it would “ground” you—remind you of your privilege, of your “responsibility” to give back. As if a couple of hours and a few bags of garbage would somehow balance the scales. They never seemed to understand how much of it was all for show, this shallow idea that if you looked the part, no one would care to learn more.

But, still, you’d show up. You always did. Smile, make just enough small talk to appease the right people.

Kie, who was so genuinely invested in this whole “save the planet” thing it was almost enviable was there too with JJ, who was running around her as usual, wearing his ‘I’m just here for the ride’ expression but enjoying himself. The love between them made you miss having someone who cared in ways that weren’t just calculated moves.

She waved at you from the shoreline, her eyes moving to the trash bag you were barely half-filling.

You weren’t friends, but if Sarah liked her, you did too.

You offered a faint smile back, tired, because between all the shit you’d been thinking about, you'd forgotten to eat, to drink anything, and every time you leaned down to grab another crumpled plastic bottle or a bit of seaweed-laden garbage, you felt like your legs were about to give out on you.

Every now and then, she would throw a quick, appraising glance your way, like she was expecting you to miraculously become invested in the beach’s ecosystem.

You didn’t have it in you to pretend this was enjoyable today. The “effortless” philanthropy your family loved was a lifestyle you’d never bought into. It didn’t matter how many smiling photos of you had ended up on some charity’s social media—you knew you’d rather be anywhere else.

You had to take a break every few minutes, leaning against a pier post, trying to get yourself together as a few of the younger kids gave you wary glances. You could have left—probably should have.

You managed a tight-lipped smile, giving a thumbs-up that said, Just doing great over here, guys!

You were in a long t-shirt, which hung over your bikini and shorts, the fabric slightly oversized, to help hide what was still a small change in your body. Paranoia was your new best friend, always worrying that someone would notice something different, even if you didn’t have a noticeable bump yet.

Bending down to grab another plastic bottle, you felt a stab of nausea hit you hard, rolling up from your stomach, thick and sour, but you ignored it. Not here. Not now.

You straightened up too fast, and your vision blurred slightly, that familiar sense of vertigo hitting you. You took a shallow breath, ignoring the burn at the back of your throat, your hands shaking slightly as you adjusted the bag slung over your shoulder.

One girl looked up at you with these wide eyes kids like to pull, “Are you okay?”

You smiled, brushing it off as if you weren’t about two seconds away from collapsing. “Of course. Just... need a second.”

Just a few more bags of trash and you’d be able to get back to your car, maybe grab some water from the cooler in the trunk, sit down, and think about it.

This used to be easy, you got a weird kind of enjoyment from these cleanups, running around with your sister, making it a competition to see who could pick up the most trash, laughing until your stomachs hurt over stupid jokes about jellyfish and sunscreen. Back then, this was just one of a thousand little family traditions, one of those things that felt effortless.

Now, sweat dripped down the back of your neck, making your skin prickle uncomfortably.

You’d long given up wiping it away, knowing that it would only come back thicker and hotter the next second. Every instinct told you to run off to the parking lot, and sit in the car with the AC blasting until your body remembered it didn’t hate you.

Leaning down for one last bottle wedged in the sand, your legs wobbled and gave way beneath you. Just like that, your vision was spotty, as if someone had turned down the brightness on the entire beach, and you pitched forward.

Just as you felt yourself going down, a hand caught your arm, pulling you back up.

"Whoa, whoa, you okay?" A teenage boy, maybe sixteen, gripped your arm firmly, keeping you upright.

How much longer could they realistically expect you to go on, plastering on that sweet, dutiful smile? How much “grounding” could one person take?

You blinked, trying to clear the haze in your eyes, "I’m fine. Just a little lightheaded, really, it’s fine,” you insisted, but then a shadow loomed beside you.

Your vision was so foggy that it took seconds for you to register it.

You looked up slowly, feeling a familiar drop in your stomach as you realized who it was.

The last time you’d been this close to him, the two of you had been screaming insults across the room, Lily having to physically step in. She’d forced him to leave before you two killed each other. It was a miracle you hadn’t punched him then and there.

“You should sit down.”

It felt like a sidekick to your chest.

The sound of his voice was grinding on your nerves, and just like that you were stuck back in your dream, a real memory, leaning against him, his hand playing with a strand of your hair as he laughed at something you’d said, the two of you carefree under a golden sunset.

Except this was real.

Rafe was shirtless, with his board tucked under one arm, surf wax staining his fingers, and the sun glinting off his damp skin, like he was God’s gift to the Outer Banks. His buzzed hair was dark and wet, droplets trailing down his temples and catching along his jawline. His cheeks were flushed, a little red from the heat.

You looked away, somewhere over his shoulder, anywhere but at him, refusing to let him see you in this fragile state.

“Go away. I’m fine.”

But he didn’t move.

He’d been summoned from your absolute worst memories, catching you at your lowest when you least wanted his help. Typical.

“No,” he refused firmly, with that stupid, stubborn look that made you want to throw something at his head. “I’ve seen you almost fall three times now.”

“Maybe if you stopped looking at me like a creep, you wouldn’t have to see me ‘almost fall.”

“I wasn’t—"

You grounded your teeth, “Just go back to surfing.”

Rafe let out a dry laugh, shaking his head as if you were the one acting crazy. “Yeah, 'cause you look perfectly stable right now.”

He'd always been a master of the passive-aggressive half-sneer, the art of making you feel like everyone else was imposing on his day, no matter the situation.

“Don’t act like you care.” you snapped, voice carrying over the sand, earning a few glances from nearby kids.

He ran a hand over his face, looking around as if he didn’t want to be there any more than you did, mouth pressed into a tight line. You wanted to scream that this was his fault too, that every choice he’d made led to you standing here alone, exhausted, and terrified.

“Water would help, y’know”, his tone just shy of patronizing “You can’t go around dehydrating yourself just to make a point.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Your fingers twitched with the urge to send him stumbling to the other side of the beach, you knew that any sudden movement would make you light-headed again, and the last thing you wanted was to give him more proof of your weakness.

The kid—still standing there, eyes wide and darting between you both—looked like he was watching a reality TV show when Kiara appeared at your side.

“Let’s not do this here,” she begged under her breath, handing you a bottle of water she’d brought over, a kindness you didn’t want but couldn’t reject. “Just sit down for a second, please?”

JJ followed, always with that air of easygoing nonchalance, but his eyes were serious as he glanced from you to Rafe.

“She’s right. Just take a second, yeah?” He looked over at Rafe, “Maybe you should leave,” he said pointedly.

“Maybe you should mind your fuckin’ business Maybank.”

“Look, uh,” the kid stammered, knowing he could get caught in the crossfire. “I’ll… I’ll go see if anyone needs help further down the beach…”

You waved him off, your focus still locked on Rafe as the kid all but bolted away, you didn’t want anyone to think they had to “rescue” you.

You tried to take a step back, but the little strength you had in you disappeared as you felt your knees wobble.

"Jesus," you heard him groan, and then his hands were on your arms, board on the sand, holding you as you stumbled. "I told you to sit down."

You shook his hands off, "Don’t tell me what to do.”

It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.

He let out an exasperated sigh while you took a sip from the water Kiara handed you, ignoring how your hands were still shaking around the bottle.

She spoke again, trying to be the voice of reason, "We’re here to help the community, remember?"

JJ smirked, "Yeah, think the sea turtles are rooting for y’all to work out your issues somewhere else.”

You ignored his joke, keeping your eyes on Rafe, your pride and stubbornness refusing to let him win, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

He looked you over, his gaze fixed to your warm cheeks and the dewy sheen across your temple, “You look real fine, don’t you?” He didn’t even try to cloak his sarcasm.

God, he could be so exasperating.

He couldn’t understand. How could he even think he could look at you now and know anything about who you were? Standing there, with that stupid board and that look, like he couldn’t imagine anything bothering him as much as this seemed to be bothering you.

As if he hadn’t already ruined you in so many ways that felt impossible to get over.

“Don’t you have something better to do?”

“Oh, believe me, I do,” he drawled, his eyes trailing from the waves back to you.

You were tired of this game, of fighting him every time he showed up only to leave you feeling even emptier than before.

Your fists clenched, and you opened your mouth to hurl something back, but the dizziness hit you again. Before you could compose yourself, Rafe’s arm wrapped around your waist, strong and frustratingly secure, holding you upright with an ease that made your skin crawl.

He had seen you at your weakest, had been there at the hospital after the accident, keeping you together when you were certain you’d break.

Yet, here you were, in a sick way, back in his arms, all broken apart.

“That’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” JJ chimed in, hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

The world alone had all kinds of alarms going off in your brain. You fought back instinctively, your hands pushing at his chest, freeing your arm.

“I told you, I’m fine.”

He let go, but he didn’t back away.

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”

He was there. And you didn’t want to be reminded of it, not in front of other people.

He meant the exhaustion and hunger pains you’d welcomed after your family was gone, embraced even, because it meant you wouldn’t have to feel anything else.

You’d wanted to disappear, and he’d been there—dragging you back, forcing you to drink water and swallow bites of food, even when you pushed him away. He’d seen you at your absolute lowest, where you didn’t care if you made it through the day.

The thought of the hospital, tests, questions, you fought it, but your vision was already blurring.

You couldn’t let him find out about the baby.

Your breathing felt tighter, each shallow breath only making the spinning worse, you could sense your body giving in to the exhaustion

“Shit,” you heard him curse, sounding distant now like he was farther away.

You felt yourself sway as if the ground was opening beneath you, there was a ringing in your ears that made his voice sound muffled but you still felt his arms catching you again, holding you upright before you fell.

Waking up in a moving vehicle was like emerging from a nightmare, except somehow, this was worse, because you were no longer at the beach.

You blinked hard, desperate to wipe the fogginess in your eyes and when it did go away, you realized who was behind the wheel.

Rafe.

Your heart pounded—your desperation to keep the baby a secret, how you almost passed out at the beach, and the fact that now he was most likely driving you to the hospital.

“What the hell are you doing?” you practically screamed, your voice hoarse from the lack of water.

He didn’t spare you a glance, “You passed out, genius. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Your whole body went rigid. “Are you insane?”

“Me?” He scoffed, as he kept his focus on the road. “You practically ate sand back there. You’re not fine.”

“Turn the car around. I’ll call my driver and be fine.” You huffed like he was too dumb to understand. “I don’t need your help.”

He let out a dry laugh, still not looking at you.

“Yeah. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you out of this car right now.”

“Rafe, I’m not kidding,” you warned, louder this time. “Stop. The. Car.”

He gave you a sideways glance, his grip on the wheel tightening.

“Not happening.”

Your heart hammered as you realized he wasn’t going to back down, you were driven by sheer desperation.

“Fine, then I’ll do it myself." you muttered, reaching for the door handle.

Anything to get out of this suffocating car before he dragged you all the way to the ER and they found out you were pregnant—with his baby, no less.

His eyes widened, finally snapping from the road to your hand on the handle.

“Are you crazy? Get your hand off that, I’m fuckin' serious.”

You yanked at it anyway, twisting the handle and pulling with spiteful defiance, and Rafe’s expression went from annoyed to full-on rage. He swerved the car to the side of the road, tires skidding as he slammed the brakes and practically threw the car into park.

Before he could even stop fully, you flung the door open and stumbled out, sandals sinking into the gravel as you stalked away.

You didn’t get more than a few feet, he was already bolting after you.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, digging your nails into your palms.

How the hell had it come to this? You were stuck here, pregnant with his child, and he played the reluctant hero like you needed him swooping in to save you.

Rafe reached you in two strides, his fingers were digging into his forehead, pointing at it with exasperation imprinted into every corner of his face.

“Are you out of your fuckin' mind?” He sounded like he was talking to some unruly child.

And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.

You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.

What would he do if she was the one almost fainting? Would he still look like she was some colossal burden, or would he soften, maybe even smile as he fussed over her, acting like he wanted to help?

You hated yourself for caring at all.

There was no way he’d look at her like she was a mess, someone he just had to “deal with.” He likely saw her as easy, perfect, all soft and sweet words, everything you weren’t.

This wasn’t who you wanted to be, and yet here you were, stumbling around half-dead and pregnant with his child.

“I’m sorry, am I bothering you?” You spat the words, watching his jaw clench tighter.

He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes.

“Unbelievable. Only you could take me trying to help and turn it into this.”

You were done. You were done with the memories, with the torment of seeing him be something better for someone else.

“Help?” You laughed bitterly, the anger engulfing you so hard it felt as if it choking you. “You think this is help? That I need you, of all people?”

He took a step back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I'm trying to help."

You hated how calm he was, how rational he sounded.

It was maddening when all you wanted was for him to get angry, to let that icy surface crack, to give you even a glimpse of something real, something that wasn’t just irritation or sarcasm.

You wanted proof that he still was affected by you, that this was the same guy who used to be everything, who’d promised you everything.

But you swallowed it down, straightening up, because there was no way in hell, you’d let him see even a hint of weakness.

“Trust me,” you shot back, “I’ll be just fine without you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Get in the car.”

“No,” you said, firm and unyielding, every inch of you screaming that you wouldn’t let him decide anything for you ever again.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

In one swift move, he reached out, his hands gripping your arms with enough pressure to pull you forward, lifting you clean off your feet. Your breath caught in a furious gasp as he practically dragged you back to the car, his fingers warm against your skin, like you were just a mild convenience.

“Put me down!”

You struggled against his hold, jabbing at his chest with what little strength you could muster, but he didn’t even flinch, didn’t so much as hesitate.

“Rafe, I swear—”

He opened the passenger door with one hand, keeping a firm grip on you with the other, before finally setting you down—not gently—onto the seat. Without meaning to, tears began falling as you struggled against his hands. You could feel them wetting your cheeks, your voice was breaking, jumping to distress as you tried to twist out of his hold, feeling so small under his unrelenting strength.

He almost knelt in front of you, reaching for the seat belt with one hand, while his other remained firmly on your shoulder, holding you still. You felt trapped, impresioned as you tried to turn in every direction, hands weakly pushing him back, but he caught them effortlessly.

“Stop!” you meekly choked out, failing to shove him, the words coming out shameful.

You could feel your heart breaking all over again.

You hated that he was seeing you like this, how he dared to act like you needed him—it made your skin crawl. You hated that he could do this, like he had any right like you’d ever wanted him involved in this part of your life, let alone now.

This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.

You glared up at him, practically shaking with rage as Rafe ignored your protests like you were nothing more than a child throwing a fit.

“Get your hands off me.”

His jaw tightened, ignoring the flailing punches and slaps grazing him, and you couldn’t stop the sob that escaped, loud and ugly.

“I’m not letting you kill yourself out of spite.”

Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”

For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here.

A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall.

"Yeah? Get in line."

Without another word, he pulled back, slamming the door shut, and walking around to the driver’s side.

You wiped at your cheeks, furious that he’d seen you like this, that he had the power to break you down. It was humiliating, sitting here in his car, every part of your body screaming to escape.

He got in, started the engine, neither of you spoke.

You bit back another wave of nausea. Weakness.

You’d already shown him too much.

You didn’t need a lecture from some doctor on how you “should’ve taken better care of yourself", let alone with Rafe there, watching, scrutinizing, acting like this was his business when he’d made it clear long ago that it wasn’t. He was in your space in the worst way, reopening all the wounds.

You were seething. He had no right to do this.

The thought made you want to drop dead—doctor would walk in, casually drop the news about the baby, and you'd be left watching his reaction in real time.

You looked at the entrance to the ER. The vision of anyone running tests, of some well-meaning nurse, coming in and spilling everything about the baby in front of him—no way. You wouldn’t let that happen.

He wasted no time getting out, moving around to your side, while you sat rigidly, staring straight ahead. His hand was already on the door, yanking it open, looking down at you like he was ready to drag you inside if he had to.

You weren’t moving. You knew the second you stepped inside, it would be over.

“C’mon,” Rafe pressed, his hand outstretched, hovering there like he thought he could compel you to listen. “Stop being so stubborn.”

You crossed your arms over your stomach, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’m not going in.”

Rafe let out a sigh, nearing his limit, and knelt down to your level.

“Look, you passed out. I’m not leaving until you get checked out.”

“You’re gonna be here for a while then.”

“And what?” you interrupted.

“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”

Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”

“You’re not coming in."

He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”

Maybe he was seeing the protection you’d built up around yourself since he left, how there was no longer any crack left open for him to slip through.

“I don’t need you. I don’t want you in there.”

“Fine.” His tone was clipped, restrained. “But I’ll be right here.”

You slammed the door shut behind you, not letting him your legs still shaking. You’d rather collapse face-first into the concrete than give him the satisfaction of listening to him.

“Yeah, you do that,” you replied, turning and walking toward the entrance, refusing to look back.

Stepping inside, you felt a slight tremor run through you—part relief, part panic. The lights were too bright, almost white. Your heart wobbled, replaying how he’d been such a fucking asshole to you.

You’d forgotten how mean he could be, how easily he could go from angry to something so frigid it made you want to cry yourself to sleep.

“Hi there,” The receptionist greeted, her eyes moving over you with a professional once-over, “What brings you in today?”

You forced a small smile, knowing she wouldn’t buy it.

“Just…got a little dehydrated, that’s all.”

“Okay…let’s just get some basic information.” She clicked into her computer, her fingers poised over the keyboard. “Name?”

You cleared your throat, rattling off your full name, she nodded, typing it in.

“Have you experienced any other symptoms besides dizziness?”

“Nothing serious,” you replied, dismissively. “It’s just the heat, like I said. I just need some water and I’ll be good as new.”

This had to be a fucking nightmare you got sucked in, you could sense your blood pressure spike.

She tapped her screen and glanced back at you.

“Alright, Miss Thornton, it looks like we’ll just need a few quick details here to get you all checked in. Can I start with your insurance provider?”

A chuckle almost slipped out of you. Insurance—God, you were fine with insurance. What you weren’t okay with was everything else. You answered, “Blue Cross.”

She asked for your birthdate, which you gave on autopilot, hoping she’d skip any weird or invasive questions. “Any allergies?”

You shook your head. Please, just let this be over.

“It’s really not a big deal,” You blurted out, giving her a thin smile and forcing calm into your voice. “I just need the IV. You know, standard stuff.”

“Of course, dear. We’ll get things started, it will include routine tests, like bloodwork, just to be safe.”

Bloodwork. Perfect. You were doing everything you could to keep from falling into that spiraling panic mode.

Please, just get me in, get me out, and don’t find anything.

“Just head down to Room 12.”

All you could think was that you wanted this to be over—before the whole town, or worse, he, found out. It made you want to scream. He was the last person who should be outside.

This was his fault. You’d never be here if he hadn’t shown up.

The next hour passed in seconds—questions, forms, an IV drip.

They’d done blood work, too, but you’d sighed in relief when they’d told you the results wouldn’t be ready immediately. As far as they knew, you’d just overdone it, and now, as you lay on a cot in a room that reeked of sick people, all they’d prescribed was rest, hydration, and food.

When the nurse asked if anyone could pick you up, the thought of calling someone, asking them to see you like this, made you delirious. You didn’t need anyone; you were perfectly fine on your own.

But you also didn’t want Rafe and his delusional ass to barge through the doors.

The nurse moved around you awkwardly, eyes still expectant, as if you were just a button away from a reliable “someone” to come running.

You looked at her, controlling the compulsion to yell. Little people ever bothered to check on you, to show up for more than just the drama or gossip.

Out of them, only one face bounced around in your head.

“Yeah, I got someone.”

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron (by @itneverendshere)

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mrsriddles-blog · 2 days ago

Text

I miss my mamas | C.S

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo x Fem Reader

WC: 1.2k+

Warnings/Notes: Mild language, angst, fluff…

Summary: In which you are on a little trip and Chris is missing you…

"Dude, what the fuck is your problem? You've been all weird and mopey the entire video." Nick asks from the backseat as he pulls out a box of donuts, partially for him, but partially to hopefully cheer Chris up.

"Oh nothing." Chris mumbles, crossing his arms as he pouts.

Matt raises his eyebrows in question, shaking his head as he sighs.

"Come on, Chris. What's going on?" Matt asks, his tone softer than Nicks abrasive and abrupt one.

"Guys, it's nothing." Chris huffs, looking out the window.

His phone buzzes and he moves faster than his brothers had ever seen him move in their lives. It was the most excited he seemed during this video until he saw the notification and frowned and dramatically throws his phone to the floor.

"Alright bud, we are going to talk about this. What's going on?" Matt demands.

"I miss my mamas!" Chris cries dramatically.

He genuinely was upset, his eyes watering as he looked away. He felt like a baby right now. He just missed you, his girlfriend of two years. You both had grown so close to the point you saw each other every day. You practically lived with the triplets. But, you told Chris you needed to handle some stuff and do a bit of traveling to see family. He assumed it'd be a few days, but it's been two weeks.

To make matters worse, the time zones were different so texting and calling was almost impossible. The most he got from you was "good morning" or "goodnight, I love you baby!"

Matt frowns, realizing how upset his brother truly was. Nick was laughing over the nickname he had for you, not realizing he was genuinely upset. Matt pulls Chris into a hug and Nick stops laughing as he realized that Chris was indeed upset.

"Hey, she'll be back soon." Nick says softly, trying to cheer him up.

"She said a few days. It's been two fucking weeks. We haven't been apart this long in forever." Chris says, genuinely upset.

Matt reaches forward to turn the camera off. He hated seeing his brother so upset. It wasn't like him to get upset. He was always the most energetic, the happiest and goofiest of the three of them.

"Have a donut, you'll feel better." Nick urges.

"I don't want a fucking donut. I want to see my girlfriend." Chris huffs, turning away from his brothers.

Matt looks at Nick who nods after shoving his donut in his mouth as he looked at his phone. Matt started the car, driving back to their house.

Chris was the first out of the car, storming into the house before slowing as the lights were on when they weren't on when they left. He heard shuffling and moving around as both Matt and Nick walk in. You poke your head around the corner, confused as you thought you had more time.

"Mamas?" Chris mumbles in surprise.

"He got upset. Sorry, we couldn't stall any longer." Matt says, sending an apologetic smile to you.

"It's alright. Come here, bubs. I wanted to surprise you when I got back." You say, opening your arms in which he wasted no time getting to you.

"I thought you wouldn't be back for my birthday." He mumbles, thinking about tomorrow.

"Hey! There's us too!" Nick grumbles.

"She's my girlfriend." Chris argues.

"Alright, alright, I'm right here, bubs. I wouldn't have missed it for the world. In fact, that was part of the reason why I was gone a bit longer than expected. I was getting your guys' presents. Had to be picked up, not shipped." You explain.

"You got us a present too?" Nick asks.

"Well duh! You two are like my brothers. You guys are such dummy's sometimes. I love you two to death and I missed you guys a bunch!" You say, leaving Chris's hold to hug both Matt and Nick.

"You didn't have to get us anything." Matt says, his cheeks flushed red.

"Uh, yeah I did. I've got the coolest presents. Anyhow, dinner should be about done. I set a movie up for us all to watch and set up the couches for us." You explain, turning to make your way to the kitchen.

Chris followed like a lost puppy and Nick and Matt said they'd grab the drinks after they change. Chris wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into your neck. You lean back against him as you continue to make plates.

"You can't ever leave me that long again, ma." He mumbles.

"I don't think I can...I felt like I was going to lose it after two days. It was the hardest two weeks of my life. If I ever got to go that long again, I'm bringing you with me." You admit, your cheeks flushing red at your confession.

"Thank god...we hardly texted and called. I know it was different time zones...but I was really scared we were drifting apart." He admits quietly.

You turn, wrapping your arms around his neck as you look up at him with furrowed brows, pouty lips and glossy eyes. His hands settle on your hips.

"Chris, I don't think I could ever drift apart from you. Those two weeks were brutal...but it made me realize how much I truly love you—not that I didn't know it before, but that entire time I thought of you. I couldn't not think of you. I would see things and would be like, Chris would love this. I wanted to call and text, but I know you and the boys have been busy. I didn't want to interrupt your guys’ work. But, I realize how much I love that we are constantly near each other. Some may call us clingy, but I love whatever it is we have. I feel so content, happy and safe with you and I wouldn't have it any other way." You murmur.

"I missed you so much, mamas." He murmurs, leaning down and kissing you softly.

"We are coming in! Be clothed!" Nick yells.

You pull apart from the kiss, chuckling as you pull Chris into a tight hug. He laughs, holding you closer to him.

"I miss you too. I promise I won't ever leave that long again and if I do, you're coming with me." You murmur.

"What about me?" Nick asks with a pout.

"You're such an attention seeking whore." Matt says, rolling his eyes.

"Okay! Matt's arrived! Here we go with the fucking Mattitude." Nick says, staring at Matt with surprise.

"I'd bring you two with me too, but you guys would be in the backseat. Chris would be in the front with me." You say with a soft smile.

"He called me an attention seeking whore." Nick grumbles as he helps grab drinks as you and Chris grab plates.

"You two need to be nicer to each other." You laugh softly, leading the way to the living room and setting plates down.

"He started it!" He pouts.

"Dear god." Chris mumbles.

"They were having a moment, idiot! It was cute!" Matt exclaims.

"Guys, it's okay. Chris and I don't mind. We were about to bring the plates in anyway. There's no need to get upset." You say softly.

You take Chris's hand before he could say something to go against your words. He squeezes your hand before pulling you to your guys' favorite couch.

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the-winter-spider · 2 days ago

Text

Invisible | Part 9

Pairing: Bucky x Reader AU

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Attempted SA, Angst, language

A/N: So i have like 4 other parts done but i wanted to do more of an insight on Bucky and her relationship, so this is strictly just a chapter filled with Flashbacks!

P.S i do plan on updating my links to my masterlist & masterposts but links arent fricking working for me rn

1 Year ago

It was a Saturday night, and you, Bucky, Sam, and a few others had headed out to one of your favorite bars. The place was packed, neon lights casting a warm, vibrant glow over the tables and booths, music pulsing just loud enough to fill the space without drowning out conversation. After a few drinks, the energy in the room had settled into that perfect, cozy buzz.

You and Bucky were at the bar, leaning against the counter, laughing as you recounted a ridiculous story from your college days. He was right next to you, his arm resting on the bar behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. His gaze hadn’t left you, his blue eyes alight with that look he sometimes had—a mix of mischief and something softer, something that made your heart race.

“You’re the worst,” you say, shaking your head with a grin. “I still can’t believe you did that.”

He laughs, his hand brushing against your arm as he shifts closer, his voice low. “Oh, come on. You’re not that surprised. You know I’d do anything for a laugh, especially yours"

You roll your eyes warmth creeping up your neck to your cheeks, trying to ignore the thrill that sparks at the brush of his fingers. “You just like the attention, Barnes.”

He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “And you don’t?”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Please, I’m a saint compared to you.”

“Oh, really?” His grin widens, and he leans in, his face so close you can feel his breath against your cheek. “Guess we’ll have to see who’s the real troublemaker tonight, won’t we?”

For a moment, your breath catches, your heart pounding as you meet his gaze, feeling the air between you grow thick with anticipation. His hand lingers on the bar behind you, fingers inching just a little closer to your arm. You’re not sure if it’s the drinks, the atmosphere, or just the way he’s looking at you, but there’s a flicker of hope in your chest—a spark that maybe, just maybe, tonight could be different. Maybe this time, he might see you the way you see him.

Just as you’re about to say something, to lean into the moment a little more, Sam walks up, nudging Bucky with an all-too-knowing grin before tossing his arm over your shoulder.

“Hey, Buck,” Sam says, nodding toward the other end of the bar. “Girl over there by the corner table? She asked for your number.” Sam winks, then jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “I just kept her friend busy for you, told her our little Stevie was single.”

You glance over to the area Sam pointed to, and sure enough, Steve gives you a polite smile while he’s in the middle of what seems to be a very animated conversation with a brunette.

Bucky pulls back slightly, and you feel the shift immediately, that warm intensity slipping away. He turns to glance over his shoulder, a grin tugging at his lips. “Did she now?” he asks, smirking at Sam.

Sam shrugs. “You know how it is. She’s cute too. Don’t keep her waiting.”

Bucky chuckles, then turns back to you, his gaze meeting yours, and there’s a glint in his eye—a playful lightness that makes your heart drop. “Well,” he says, his voice low, his eyes lingering on yours for just a beat too long, something swimming in those blue depths that you can’t quite decipher. “Duty calls.”

Your stomach twists, and you force yourself to smile, giving a small shrug as you try to brush it off. “Yeah, go work your charm,” you say, injecting as much playfulness into your voice as you can manage. “Wouldn’t want to keep the girl waiting.”

He stares at you for a second, almost like he wants to say something else, like he’s about to—but then he gives you a small, regretful smile, and the moment slips away. “Catch you in a bit,” he says, squeezing your shoulder before he turns and heads toward the girl waiting across the bar.

You watch him go, the hope you’d felt moments ago dissolving into something familiar—a quiet, persistent ache that you know all too well. As he laughs with the girl, you turn back to your drink, forcing a smile as you remind yourself that this is just the way it is. He’s Bucky, your best friend, and that’s all you’ll ever be.

Sam steps in front of you, raising an eyebrow. “If you want, I can be your wingman too. Can’t be that hard to find someone for you.”

You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head. “I’m good, Sammy. Thanks, though. I think I’m just gonna go over and gossip with the girls,” you say, nodding toward Natasha and Wanda, who seem deep in a debate about something.

He shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

You grab your beer and, with one last glance over your shoulder, your eyes meet Bucky’s. He’s looking at you again, even as the girl next to him leans in closer, talking animatedly. For a second, it’s just the two of you, caught in the kind of look that makes your heart ache with everything unsaid.

But then he blinks, turning back to the girl with a charming smile, and the spell is broken. You swallow hard, blinking back the sting of tears as you head toward Natasha and Wanda, already preparing to laugh and distract yourself from the quiet ache in your chest.

6 months ago

You and Bucky had the apartment to yourselves, waiting for the others to arrive for a long-promised game night. The coffee table was scattered with board games and cards, and you were already a couple of drinks in, feeling that familiar warmth that made everything just a little funnier, a little sweeter, a little more electric.

“Alright, your move,” you say with a grin, watching him frown as he studies the board like it’s the most serious puzzle in the world.

Bucky groans, running a hand through his hair. “You think you’re gonna beat me at this, but you’re dead wrong.”

“Oh, yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, leaning forward. “Pretty sure I’m about to wipe the floor with you, Barnes.”

His eyes light up, and he leans forward to match your energy, his face only inches from yours. “Big talk for someone who’s two turns away from total disaster,” he teases, his voice low and playful. There’s a sparkle in his eye, something mischievous and warm, and for a split second, you wonder if you’re imagining it.

You laugh, taking another sip of your drink as you try to focus on the game instead of the way his gaze lingers on you. “I don’t know, you look pretty nervous to me,” you say, flicking a card onto the table. “Face it, Buck. I’m the game night champion.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I’d like to see you prove it.”

The banter flows easily, a familiar back-and-forth that makes your heart race in a way you can’t fully control. You’ve been friends for so long, but there are nights like this, nights where you’re alone, laughing, sharing drinks, and leaning just a bit closer than usual. Nights where you feel that little flicker of something more, and you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he feels it too.

As the game goes on, Bucky’s hand finds its way to the back of the couch, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating from his skin. You’re hyper-aware of every small shift, every slight brush of his hand against your shoulder when he leans in to check the board, and your heart races each time, a small thrill sparking at the possibility that this could be… more.

Suddenly, he looks over at you, his face serious, his voice softer. “You know… we make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

Your breath catches, and for a second, you think you see something in his gaze—something that feels as real as the pounding in your chest, as tangible as the way his arm brushes against yours. You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips, feeling bold and just tipsy enough to flirt back.

“Maybe,” you murmur, meeting his gaze. “But I think I’m the one carrying this team.”

Bucky laughs, a soft, warm sound, and he leans a little closer, his eyes locked on yours. “Is that so?”

Bucky’s voice is low, teasing, but there’s something different in the way he’s looking at you now. The playful edge in his grin softens, his gaze dipping briefly to your lips before flicking back up to your eyes. The space between you feels smaller, more intimate, and the usual banter takes on a weight that makes your pulse quicken.

You tilt your head slightly, your smile turning sly. “Yeah, pretty sure I’ve been carrying this whole operation.”

He chuckles, the sound rumbling low in his chest, and then, almost without thinking, his hand shifts. His fingers brush against your knee, just a light, casual touch, but it sends a spark through you. You glance down briefly, then back up at him, your heart pounding.

“Well, maybe I just like letting you think you’re in charge,” Bucky says, his voice softer now, almost a murmur.

You can’t help but smile at that, leaning in just a fraction, testing the waters. “Oh, is that it? You’re just letting me win?”

“Maybe,” he replies, his hand sliding just a bit further along your knee, his thumb brushing gently against the fabric of your jeans. It’s subtle, but the warmth of his touch is undeniable.

Your breath catches, and you lean closer, your faces now only inches apart. His eyes flicker between yours, searching, and for a moment, it feels like the entire world has narrowed down to just the two of you. His hand moves from your knee, trailing up to lightly rest on your arm, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Bucky…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper, but he cuts you off with a soft smile, his tone earnest.

“There’s no one else I’d rather be doing this with,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours. “You know that, right?”

Your heart swells, the words hitting you in a way that feels both comforting and exhilarating. “Yeah,” you murmur, your voice shaky but steady. “I know.”

His hand drifts up, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering as his fingers graze your cheek. His gaze dips to your lips again, and you swear he’s leaning in. The air between you is electric, charged with everything you’ve never said but have always felt.

Just as his nose brushes against yours, the front door bursts open with a loud bang.

“We’re here!” Sam’s voice echoes through the apartment, followed by the sound of boots thudding on the floor.

You and Bucky pull apart instantly, the moment shattering as Steve, Natasha, and Wanda pile in behind Sam, all carrying snacks and drinks, their laughter filling the room.

Bucky lets out a quiet, frustrated sigh, his hand falling away as he leans back, plastering on a grin. “About time,” he calls out, his voice slightly strained. “Thought you guys got lost.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you as she sets a bag of chips on the counter. “Interrupt something?” she asks, her tone playful but curious.

You quickly shake your head, forcing a laugh as you grab your drink. “Just Bucky losing at game night already.”

“Losing?” Bucky scoffs, giving you a pointed look that’s equal parts teasing and frustrated. “We both know who’s winning here.”

Natasha smirks but doesn’t push further, and soon everyone is settling in, chattering and laughing as the game night kicks off. But as you glance at Bucky across the room, catching the way his gaze lingers on you for just a moment too long, you can’t help but wonder what might have happened if you’d had just a few more minutes alone.

For the rest of the night, you can’t shake the lingering feeling, the memory of his voice, of that look in his eyes. It was just a moment—one small moment—but it was enough to spark the hope that maybe, just maybe, he feels it too.

2 Years ago

The apartment was still in chaos, boxes piled high and scattered across the floor, but it didn’t matter. You and Bucky sat in the middle of it all, the weight of the day settling into a calm, contented silence. The others had just left—Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Wanda had helped you haul everything up, cracking jokes and making the place feel alive. But now it was just you two, sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by your new life together.

Bucky let out a long breath, leaning back on his hands as he looked around. “We did it,” he said, a soft grin spreading across his face. “We finally did it, doll.”

You smiled, watching the way his eyes lit up despite the exhaustion written across his features. “Yeah, we did,” you said, your voice filled with quiet pride. “Out of that shithole town, finally graduated university… and now we’ve got our own place.”

“Our own place,” Bucky repeated, like he was tasting the words. He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Feels like we’ve been talking about this forever. And now we’re here.”

You nodded, leaning back against one of the boxes. “Feels kinda surreal.”

Bucky shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat. His eyes softened as he looked at you, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “There’s no one else I’d rather do life with than you, you know that, right?”

His words sent a warm flutter through your chest, and you could barely breathe as his hand reached up, grazing your cheek lightly. His touch was soft, almost reverent, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged with something unspoken, something deeper.

You swallowed, leaning into his touch, your voice barely above a whisper. “Best friends for life,” you said, trying to keep your tone light even as your heart raced.

Bucky smiled, his thumb brushing against your skin for a second longer before he pulled his hand back. “Yeah,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on yours. “Or… something like that.”

For a moment, it felt like time slowed, the weight of his words hanging between you. You wondered if he felt it too, this quiet pull that seemed to draw you closer every time you were alone together.

But before you could say anything more, the buzzer rang loudly, breaking the spell. Bucky blinked, then let out a laugh, standing up quickly. “Must be the pizza,” he said, shooting you a grin as he walked over to the intercom.

You stayed where you were, heart still beating fast as you watched him, the warmth of his earlier words still lingering in the room. But of course, that's all it would ever do…linger.

High School Junior Year

The school hallways buzzed with the usual Friday afternoon energy. Lockers slammed, laughter echoed, and plans for the weekend floated through the air. You were at your locker, pretending to search for a book, but really you were just trying to hold it together. The tears that threatened to fall were barely contained, your heart still raw from the breakup that had blindsided you during lunch.

You’d thought he was different. Ryan, the quiet, sweet boy from your English class, had seemed so perfect. But today, he’d told you it wasn’t working, that he wanted to see other people, well that he already had been seeing other people, well that you caught him with said other person…..Trina.

You took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. The lump in your throat only grew as you heard his laugh down the hall, carefree as if nothing had happened.

“Hey, you okay?” Natasha’s voice pulled you from your spiralling thoughts. She leaned casually against the locker next to yours, her sharp green eyes studying you.

You quickly wiped at your eyes, forcing a smile. “Yeah, fine. Just tired.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Tired or heartbroken?”

You let out a shaky laugh, but before you could answer, Steve appeared, his face immediately softening when he saw you.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, glancing between you and Natasha.

“Ryan,” Natasha said bluntly, crossing her arms.

Steve’s face darkened, his usual calm demeanor shifting into protective mode. “That idiot. You want me to talk to him?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, Steve, please don’t. It’s not worth it.”

Before he could argue, Natasha’s gaze flicked down the hall. “Uh-oh. Here comes Bucky.”

Your stomach twisted as you turned to see Bucky walking toward you, hand in hand with Stacy, his girlfriend. Stacy was all smiles, tossing her long hair over her shoulder as she talked animatedly. Bucky’s expression softened the second he saw you, his sharp blue eyes narrowing with concern.

“You look like you’ve been crying,” Bucky said the moment he reached you, his voice low and familiar in a way that made your defenses crumble.

“I’m fine,” you lied, trying to brush past him. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Hey, wait—” Bucky grabbed your arm gently, his eyes searching yours. “What happened?”

“Bucky,” Stacy said, clearly annoyed, tugging on his hand. “We’re gonna miss the movie.”

Bucky ignored her, his full attention on you. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. “It’s nothing. Just… Ryan cheated on me, okay? It doesn’t matter.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his gaze flicking over to where Ryan was laughing with his friends. His protective instincts kicked in immediately, but before he could say anything, you pulled your arm free.

“I just need to be alone,” you said, your voice cracking as you turned and rushed down the hall, ignoring the concerned calls from Steve and Natasha.

You made it outside, the cool autumn air biting against your skin as you walked aimlessly down the street, the tears falling freely now. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the footsteps behind you until a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, stop.”

You turned to see Bucky jogging toward you, his face filled with worry. Stacy was nowhere in sight.

“Bucky, what are you doing? You’re supposed to be with Stacy, its movie night"

“Forget Stacy, forget the stupid movie” he said, his voice firm as he closed the distance between you. Without another word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you broke down completely.

You clung to him, the weight of your heartbreak finally crashing over you. “Why does it hurt so much?” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

Bucky stroked your hair gently, his voice soft. “Because you cared. But you’re gonna be okay, doll. I promise.”

For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world disappeared. Bucky’s presence was steady and grounding, and for the first time that day, you felt like you could breathe again.

“Bucky!” Stacy’s voice cut through the moment like a knife. You looked up to see her standing a few feet away, her arms crossed, her face a mixture of anger and hurt. “What the hell is this?”

Bucky sighed, but he didn’t let go of you. “Stacy, not now.”

“Not now?” she repeated, her voice rising. “I’m your girlfriend, Bucky! And I’m so sick of being second to her.” She jabbed a finger in your direction, her voice trembling with frustration. “It’s always about her. You’re always running after her, putting her first.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, and he finally released you, stepping forward. His voice was calm but firm. “Stacy, you knew how important she was to me when we started this. She’s my best friend.”

“She’s not just your best friend! Not the way i see it!” Stacy snapped, her eyes filling with tears. “If you’re not willing to put me first, then maybe we shouldn’t be together.”

Bucky hesitated for a moment, his face unreadable. Then he spoke, his voice steady and certain. “If it’s between you and her, Stacy, I’ll always choose her.”

Stacy’s face crumpled, and she let out a bitter laugh. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head before turning and walking away, her footsteps echoing down the street.

Bucky stood there for a moment, watching her go, then turned back to you. His expression softened as he reached out, gently wiping a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “You didn’t need to see that.”

You shook your head, your heart aching in a different way now. “Bucky, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly. “You’ve always been the most important person in my life. I’m not gonna let anyone change that.”

You stared at him, your heart full of emotions you couldn’t quite put into words. Finally, you managed a small, shaky smile. “Best friends for life, right?”

Bucky’s lips curved into a soft smile, and he nodded. “Yeah, doll. Best friends for life.”

And for that moment, it was enough.

University Year 2

The air was thick with the mingling scents of bonfire smoke, cheap beer, and the faint tang of weed. Laughter and music drifted through the clearing, blending into a chaotic symphony that pulsed through the crowd. The college bush party was in full swing, and you'd thought being here with your friends-and Nick-would be a good way to unwind.

But now, you were far from the warm glow of the fire, your back pressed against the rough bark of a tree as Nick leaned in, his hands sliding lower and lower. At first, you didn't think much of it. A kiss here, a touch there. But then his hands started to roam places you weren't ready for.

"Nick, no... I'm not ready," you murmured, pulling back slightly.

"Come on," he whispered, his lips brushing against your neck, ignoring your words. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer. "We've been together for a month. You trust me, right?"

You stiffened, your heart starting to race-not with excitement, but with unease. "Nick, I'm serious. Stop," you said, your voice firmer now.

But he didn't stop. His hands moved to your chest, squeezing, and you froze for a moment, shock and panic locking you in place.

"I said no!" you shouted, your voice shaking as you shoved at his chest.

He barely budged, his grip tightening.

"Relax," he muttered, his tone annoyed now. "Stop being so uptight."

Fear and anger surged through you, and you pushed harder, your voice cracking. "Get off me!"

Before he could respond, Nick was suddenly yanked backward, ripped away from you with such force that he stumbled and fell to the ground. "What the hell?" Nick gasped, but his words were cut off as

Bucky loomed over him, his jaw tight, eyes blazing with fury. "She said no," Bucky growled, his voice low and deadly as he grabbed Nick by the collar. "You don't fucking touch her when she says no."

Without waiting for a response, Bucky's fist connected with Nick's face, the crack of bone meeting bone cutting through the night. Nick's head snapped back, and he let out a strangled curse, but Bucky didn't stop. He landed another punch, his face twisted with rage.

"Bucky, stop!" you cried, your voice trembling as you stumbled forward, tears streaming down your face. "Please, stop!"

Nick raised his arms in a feeble attempt to shield himself. "What the fuck, man? Get off me!" he shouted, his voice muffled by Bucky's relentless assault.

The commotion quickly drew attention. Steve appeared out of nowhere, his face a mix of confusion and alarm as he grabbed Bucky's shoulders, yanking him off of Nick. "Buck, what the hell are you doing?" Steve demanded, holding him back.

Bucky's chest heaved, his fists still clenched, his knuckles already bruised. "He wouldn't stop, Steve," Bucky spat, his voice raw with fury. "She told him to stop, and he wouldn't fucking stop."

Steve froze, his eyes darting to you. The second he saw your tear-streaked face, his expression shifted, the anger fading into something colder, sharper. "Is that true?" he asked softly, his voice low.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself as a fresh wave of tears spilled over. Steve's jaw tightened, his fists clenching as he turned back to Nick, who was still lying on the ground, blood trickling from his nose. "You piece of shit," Steve muttered, starting to step forward.

Bucky caught Steve's arm, holding him back this time. "Don't," Bucky said, his voice steadier now but no less dangerous. "He's not worth it."

Nick groaned, sitting up and wiping at his nose. "You're both fucking crazy," he muttered, staggering to his feet. "All this for some prude?"

Bucky's grip on Steve tightened, but he stayed rooted in place as Nick continued. "She's not worth it," Nick sneered, his voice laced with bitterness. "A month of dating, and she won't even put out? She's not even that hot. Stupid bitch."

You flinched at his words, but before you could react, Bucky's jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened. He turned on his heel, closing the distance between you in two quick strides. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. "It's okay," Bucky murmured, his voice soft now, his hand cradling the back of your head. "You're safe. I've got you."

You broke down completely, your hands clutching at his shirt as sobs wracked your body. His hold was steady, grounding, and you felt the tension in your chest start to ease, even as the pain of Nick's words lingered.

Steve, meanwhile, kept his eyes locked on Nick, his expression cold. "You need to leave. Now," Steve said, his voice like steel.

Nick scoffed, spitting blood onto the ground. "Whatever," he muttered, turning and staggering away into the darkness.

Steve let out a breath, his fists slowly unclenching as he turned back to you and Bucky. "You okay?" he asked quietly, his voice filled with concern.

You nodded weakly, your voice barely audible. "I will be."

Bucky tightened his hold on you, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. "You'll never have to go through that again," he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. "I promise."

Bucky continued to hold you, his hand gently stroking your hair as your breathing began to even out. His heart was still racing beneath your cheek, but his touch was steady, grounding you as the fear and panic slowly ebbed away. For a long moment, the two of you stood there, wrapped in a cocoon of quiet comfort, the distant sounds of the party fading into the background.

Finally, you pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him. His face was softer now, the sharp edges of his anger replaced with a quiet concern that made your chest ache. “Thank you, Bucky,” you whispered, your voice still shaky but full of sincerity. “For everything.”

Bucky’s eyes searched yours, his expression unreadable for a moment before he gave you a small, gentle smile. He reached up, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly, his voice low and steady. “I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

Your heart swelled at his words, the weight of them settling over you in a way that felt both comforting and overwhelming. You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah… I know.”

Bucky held your gaze for a moment longer, his hand lingering on your cheek before he finally let it fall. He glanced over at Steve, who stood a few feet away, still watching you both with quiet concern.

“You good?” Steve asked, his tone softer now.

You nodded again, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah… I think so.”

Steve gave a small nod, his jaw still tight, but he didn’t push further. “Let’s get you home,” he said. “This party’s over.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulders, keeping you close as the three of you made your way back toward the clearing. The warmth of his touch, the quiet strength in his presence, reminded you once again that with him by your side, you were never truly alone.

And as you walked away from the chaos of the night, you couldn’t help but feel a little more whole, knowing that no matter what, Bucky would always have your back

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader angst #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #bucky banres #james barnes fanfiction #james barnes x you #the winter soldier #bucky fanfic

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joocomics · 1 day ago

Text

ಬ different kind of normal

pairing: idol!taehyun x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut — mdni! wc: 1.7k

contains: situationship, reunion sex, sub!reader, slight hint of dumbification, slight dacryphilia, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, reader is emotional and cries during sex, not a happy ending (?)

a/n: this has been sitting in the drafts since august and it’s finally seeing the light of day. cannot believe such angsty smut is happening on joocomics, tbh i don’t think i’ll be writing anything similar anytime soon phew it was tricky and i realised that i need my happy endings. but i wanted to try smth new, i really hope you enjoy it </3 sometimes you just need a kim taehyun to numb your emotions

You go down the familiar stairs and walk into the bar. It’s loud, lit by the usual dim yellow-ish lights, the scent of alcohol and skin is covering every corner, wrapping around your silhouette.

Your eyes observe the place to search for him and it doesn’t take long to find him - he’s sitting on your usual spot which is distanced from every other table; it feels intimate and secluded.

None of the people who visit this bar know who he is, nor do they know you, and sitting on this specific table every time you see each other only enhances the feeling you get in these moments - like you and him are the only people existing in this place and time.

“Taehyun,” you greet him at once.

You haven’t said his name out loud in so long. You’re not allowed to talk about him to anyone; not that you want to anyway, you want to keep him to yourself though it feels nice to be able to roll it off your tongue again. It feels freeing, especially in his presence.

Maybe he missed hearing his name in your voice, because his eyes smile at the sound before he even turns to face you. The letters ring nicely, like his name is something he can feel caressing his skin when you’re the one saying it.

“You’re here.” He automatically leans forward after you sit down next to him; the usual gravitational force that always pulls you together is another thing he was anticipating to experience again.

His one arm goes over your shoulders and the sudden warmth enveloping you makes your knees weak. The truth is, they were already weak from the steps you had to take to reach your table, but now they feel like they’re about to melt.

Being so close to him months later feels like it’s your first date all over again. You hate it and love it all at the same time.

“I just ordered your favorite,” he says and you can hear the slight note of pride in his smooth voice.

His hair is covered from a black cap which he eventually takes off before running a hand through his hair; it grabs your attention with a new color that you haven’t seen him with in person before.

You point out the obvious fact about how he still remembers your order as you take a minute to observe the attractive features that make up the face you learned to love.

“Of course I do,” he simply replies, leaning in for a kiss.

The first kiss after three and a half months. It feels so exciting and electrifying, just like the very first one you had a year ago, but at the same time it feels familiar too - like you’re reminiscing on a comforting memory you haven’t looked back on for a while.

His hand slides up your thigh, then travels up your hip only to sneak in discreetly beneath your shirt, sending you pleasant shockwaves. Soon enough he breaks the kiss though, careful not to bring any unnecessary attention on you.

“Next month I’m gonna have a week off.” Taehyun speaks up after a moment of silence between the two of you. After a sip of his beer, he continues: “I was thinking that you can come visit me if you want.”

Yes… Yes. You do. You want to scream it out loud. But the only thing you do is breathe in, staring inside the cup of your cocktail; trying to force yourself to speak before your mind turns blank.

“You don’t need to worry about money,” he adds as he shifts his gaze to you, hopeful and anticipating of your response. “It’s all on me, baby.”

There it is - the reminder you needed before giving any answers. His money, his fame. His life that’s so unfitting to yours. The pink balloon you found yourself in for a moment as he shared about his plan, tempting you to naively build dreams about your one week together, it pops, and brings you back to the harsh reality.

“Tae…” You shake head, “no matter what we do or tell each other we can’t be normal.”

Taehyun’s brows furrow at your choice of word.

Normal.

“This has to end at some point, I don’t think we should complicate things any further… as we’ve already said before.” You exhale deeply after blurting out the things you’ve been practicing on your way here. He didn’t hear the sound that escaped your lips because of the music mixed with the chatter, but if he did, he’d have known that saying all of this cost you an immense amount of energy.

You don’t glance at him even once, but Taehyun on the other hand can’t stop staring at you like he’s in some sort of a bad dream that’ll end soon if he’s patient enough.

“Right, right…” He nods, finally able to force his eyes somewhere else. He peers down at his hands on the table that begin to tap nervously at the wooden surface, sharing almost the same rhythm as his heartbeat. “You’re right, that’s the wisest thing to do.”

You know it is, but hearing him agree turns out to be more painful than you expect.

For the best, this has to end soon, you remind yourself. Maybe not tonight, but tomorrow.

“I missed you,” Taehyun rises your body temperature through raspy whispers and open mouthed kisses which he scatters onto your skin almost in a rush; as if you’re going to disappear from his hands if he dares to slow down. “Missed you so fuckin’ much...”

His soft lips trace a path from your neck down to your cleavage and soon enough he’s even lower, running his tongue against your stomach before kissing that area sensually too. The slight moisture slipping from the corners of his mouth in addition to the delicate sucks makes you shudder as he simultaneously tugs on your underwear.

“Missed this sweet pussy too,” he invites his fingers into your walls effortlessly. His gaze focuses upon your lips and how they open for a silent gasp as he glides through with ease because of your already collected arousal. “Did she miss me?”

While anticipating an answer, Taehyun swirls his tongue inside his mouth before letting a string of saliva fall right onto your clit; he smears it all over your folds, provoking your thighs to open even wider for him.

“Tae—“ You arch spine, emphasising your need for something more than this lingering rush that’s growing in a pace that’s not quite enough for how much you ache for his touch right now. “Please…”

“I think she did.” A lustful spark shimmers in his eyes as his hand maintains its delicate motions. The movements make you moan every time his fingertips reach your sensitive bundle of nerves before slipping back down again. “Say it.”

At once he meets your eyes as his frame eventually hovers over your naked flushed body.

Your hands relax on his broad shoulders as your focus fixates on his face. Hopefully there’s not as much pain into your eyes as there is in your heart in this moment. You don’t want him to know how much exactly you’re actually hurting.

“I missed you every day,” you whisper softly as your noses touch; your mouths search for each other, thirsty for the other’s taste even more now. When you feel his hand guiding his cock to your entrance your breathing catches, but you still manage to repeat it. “Of course, I missed you.”

The second he hears your words, Taehyun crashes his lips against your mouth. Because he cannot bare hearing this one more time or because he enjoys the sound of it too much - he’s not able to tell.

As he leads the kiss swiftly your legs wrap loosely around his hips and your warm walls immediately squeeze onto him as he quickens the pace, eager to make up for all the time you were away from each other.

“Fuck—“ He grunts at the growing pleasure that he reminisced about night after night before breathing out against your neck: “Finally… I swear to god nobody else can make me feel this way.”

His voice, husky and domineering despite his on going confessions, echoes in your fuzzy mind. Although you shouldn’t, you put in all the effort you can into memorising each word he says; you hold onto it tightly as the continuous thrusts gradually turn more rigid and sharp causing your nails to sink into his shoulder blades. However, as amazing the buzzing sweet wave inside you feels, you cannot suppress the sadness that’s about to overpower you first.

You swallow another failed attempt to fight back the bitter emotion, but you can feel it lingering everywhere - in your heart, inside your stomach, on your tongue once he slows down his hips to grip your face, and inside your throat that feels like it’s closing up.

“Why are you crying?”

Taehyun peers into your eyes that are sparkling at him with a bittersweet emotion which he hasn’t gotten used to seeing inside them. His gaze lowers to your puffy lips, trembling as they separate with hesitation.

“I… I don’t know what’s gotten to me, sorry,” your arms wrap tighter to pull him closer. His thumb caressing your wet cheek only makes it worse for you. “Please, k-keep going.”

“Sweetheart,” he whispers under his breath as he fulfills your wish by resuming his thrusts - more forcefully though to distract you from the sorrow, “I’ll make it go away now, okay? Focus on me, baby.”

You grasp his shoulders while the delight starts to numb your mind with each intense push of his cock. The hits against your sweet spot are fast and strong enough to weaken your memory right away.

“There you go,” Taehyun’s pants blend with your whimpers ringing beneath him as the tears on your skin begin to dry. “Such pretty eyes, look at me, love.”

Something about seeing you cry for the first time made his heart clench, and now his mind fogs up, leaving him with only one goal - to make you cum as many times as possible so you can’t think of anything for the rest of the night.

Right now, he’d erase every single thought from your brain if he knows he’s capable of doing so.

The moment he feels you’re tightening up Taehyun’s eyes open so he doesn’t miss out on one flinch of yours.

“Yeah, I’m here, baby,” he murmus, trying to keep moving forward while your peak lasts, causing you to quiver beneath his frame. “Let go, baby, I’m right here.”

Yes, he’s here, and tomorrow morning he’s still going to be here, but you’ll be gone, because this time if he tries to stop you like all the previous times, you’re not going to look back.

But for now, you and Taehyun are close as you’ve never been before.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

#— writing: txt #txt smut #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #taehyun smut #taehyun hard thoughts #tomorrow x together smut #txt x reader #txt angst #taehyun x reader

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the-fiction-witch · 2 days ago

Text

Frustration

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n (Betrothal) Rating - 18 + making out/ biting/ blow jobs/ frustrated sex/ Word Count - 1583

Jacaerys sat in the library flicking through his high valerian books. He was beyond frustrated. With Deamons reckless behaviour, with his mother's inaction, with how all in Dragonstone coddled him. He was the heir, the prince of the kingdom and he was forbidden even to take flight on vermax for fear of his injury.

His betrothal princess Y/n slowly walked in, wearing her black and red gown, her hair braided with a black ribbon. She softly smiled to see him and stopped over softly trying not to be to much of a disturbance, "A prince should not pout." She joked

“I’m not pouting. I’m reading.” Jacaerys looked up from the book, his eyes narrowing slightly at her attempt to lighten the mood. “A prince should not be treated like a fragile vase either,” he said dryly, his gaze drifting back to the pages of the book before him. But he couldn't help sneaking a glance at Y/n, taking in the way the candlelight danced across her features, highlighting the sharp angles of her cheekbones and the curve of her lips.

shs sighed closing their distance "I know it is hard my prince. I cannot imagine the frustration of it all. But you must remain here where it is safest. You are your mother's heir the future king of the seven kingdoms. You must be kept safe" she cooed softly running her fingers though his dark curls

Jacaerys's expression softened at her gentle touch, his shoulders relaxing beneath her fingertips. He closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath as she stroked his hair, the tension in his body easing. “I know you are right,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “I'm sorry. It's just...sometimes I feel like I'm suffocating under all these expectations.” He opened his eyes, meeting Y/n's gaze, his own burning with intensity. “Sometimes I wish I could just fly free, without anyone watching or worrying about me.”

"I'm sure you do," she smiled "it is not wise I think to cage a dragon. He shall meerly grow restless" she cooed

“To cage a dragon is a crime beyond all others, a dragon will not simply grow restless a dragon with bathe itself in flame before it is caged from the skies… sometimes I feel the same.” he said, “Forgive me… it is not your burden to bare.” His hand reached up, gently grasping hers, holding it against his cheek.

“We must share all our burdens, together. To lighten there load,” she nodded sadly and pressed a kiss to hide forehead "would you like some... Release of such frustrations my prince?" She cooed

Jacaerys's eyes locked onto hers, a spark of desire igniting within them. He leaned forward, his face inches from hers, his voice barely above a whisper, “Yes,” he breathed, his lips brushing against her ear. “I think that would be exactly what I need.” His hands slipped around her waist, pulling her close as he stood up, towering over her.

she took his hand in hers and guided him to a more secret part of the library a small corner with a window seat of fine red fabrics, she guided him to sit and then placed herself on his lap,

Jacaerys's hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as she settled onto his lap. He felt a surge of excitement at having her so close, the warmth of her body radiating towards him.

As she nestled into the crook of his arm, he buried his face in the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply. Her scent enveloped him, sweet and heady, making his senses reel. His lips brushed against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. she pushed his jaw until their eyes met, then she captured his lips in a kiss allowing him to be as lustful as he desires

“Mmm,” Jacaerys groaned, his mouth opening beneath hers as he surrendered to the kiss. His tongue danced with hers, a slow, sensual rhythm that left him breathless. He wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her in place as he ravaged her mouth. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest, her pulse racing in time with his own.

The world around them melted away, leaving only the two of them, lost in the heat of their passion. As he kissed her, Jacaerys's hands roamed over her body, tracing the curves of her back, the swell of her breasts. He reveled in the softness of her skin, the way it seemed to melt beneath his touch.

“My love,” Jacaerys whispered, his lips still grazing hers. He trailed kisses along her jawline, his teeth nipping gently at the tender skin. His hands slid up her back, fingers splayed wide as he pulled her closer, crushing her against his chest. His hips began to shift, pressing himself against her, seeking friction. His hardness strained against his pants, desperate for release.

she softly giggled feeling his hardness, she shifted her hips back and whispered against his lips "may I my prince?"

“Ah, yes,” Jacaerys hissed, his eyes flashing with desire as he grasped her hips, holding her in place. He ground himself against her, the pressure building between them. His lips devoured hers once more, their mouths moving in perfect syncopation.

As they kissed, Jacaerys's hands began to roam freely, cupping her breasts through the fabric of her dress. He pinched her nipples, rubbing them between his fingers to draw her attention,

Her moans mingled with his growls, creating a primal symphony that echoed through the quiet halls of the library. She pulled back and left a playful bite on his bottom lip, before she moved off his lap, making him whine for a moment but she moved to the stone floor pushing his knees open with her hands, before she moved closer unlacing his britches and freeing his throbbing cock

“Ah, fuck,” Jacaerys gasped, his eyes widening as she freed him from his britches. He lay back on the window seat, his legs spread wide, helpless to resist her. His cock throbbed in her hand, aching for attention. He watched, transfixed, as she wrapped her fingers around him, her grip firm yet gentle. A low growl rumbled in his throat as she began to stroke him, her touch sending sparks of electricity through his entire body. His hips bucked upward, seeking more contact, more pressure.

she stroked him softly and tenderly at first making sure not to overwhelm him before she began to press kisses up and down his shaft

“Fuck!” Jacaerys whispered, his eyes rolling back in his head as she lavished kisses upon his cock. He felt a wave of pure bliss wash over him, threatening to consume him whole. Her touch was like nothing he'd ever experienced before gentle, yet demanding. Soft, yet insistent.

As she continued to kiss and caress him, Jacaerys's hips began to rise and fall, urging her on, begging for more.

His fingers clenched into fists, digging into the stone floor as he struggled to contain himself. A low, rumbling moan built in his throat, growing louder with each passing moment. It was a sound that bordered on animalistic, raw and unbridled a testament to the sheer intensity of his desire.

“More,” Jacaerys begged, his voice cracking with need as she continued to tease him with her kisses. He reached out, his hand closing around her wrist, pulling her closer as he urged her to take more of him into her mouth. His cock twitched and pulsed in her grasp, eager for the sensation of her lips wrapping around him, sucking him deep.

As she hesitated, Jacaerys's hips lifted off the floor, thrusting himself forward, seeking the sweet release he knew was coming.

“Enough teasing,” Jacaerys growled, his patience wearing thin as he tugged her closer, his cock straining towards her mouth. He guided her head down, his fingers threading through her hair as he held her in place, forcing her to take him deeper. As she sucked, Jacaerys's hips began to move, fucking her face with slow, deliberate strokes, the tension building inside him until it threatened to burst free. His eyes locked onto hers, burning with a fierce intensity as he rode out the waves of pleasure, his control slipping further with each passing moment.

she happily allowed him to seek his pleasure, sucking and licking where needed to help him towards his release

“Yes!” Jacaerys shouted, his body tensing as he approached the edge, his cock pulsating in her mouth. With one final thrust, he came undone, spilling his seed down her throat as she swallowed every last drop.

His hips jerked wildly, releasing all restraint as he surrendered to the pure, unadulterated pleasure of the moment. As the aftershocks faded, Jacaerys collapsed back against the window seat, spent and sated, his chest heaving with exertion. A lazy smile spread across his face as he gazed down at her, his eyes filled with adoration and gratitude.

she pulled back licking him clean and smiling up at him, "do you feel better now my prince?"

“Much better,” Jacaerys purred, his eyelids drooping as he basked in the warmth of her smile. He reached out, his hand cupping her cheek as he drew her close, his lips brushing against hers in a gentle, affectionate kiss. “Thank you Y/n, my love.” he cooed, “I owe you one,” Jacaerys whispered, his voice husky with emotion, as he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tight. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he teased, “Trust me, I will not forget it.”

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