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dark-fics-4-you · 4 months ago

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Don’t Scream

dark!ghostface!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon (rape), smut, forced creampie, unprotected sex, home invasion, reader is assaulted by a stranger, masturbation, choking, slut shaming, degradation, knife kink, mask kink, victim blaming

Gusts of wind swirled in the air, rustling the trees and the dry leaves on the ground that crunched below the man’s heavy boots as he approached the house.

The car in the driveway and the light shining through the window upstairs let him know that someone was home, and he was willing to hedge his bets that they were all alone.

The blond came to the front door, trying the doorknob once to find, shockingly, that it was unlocked. He quietly opened the door, looking around the dark downstairs entrance before stepping in and closing the door behind him.

His breath was hot underneath his mask, and he took a moment to adjust to the sudden quiet.

Except it wasn’t quiet.

Rafe wasn’t expecting to hear a soft moan from upstairs, and he froze in place, straining to listen to hear if his ears had tricked him.

Sure enough, he heard another, this time followed by a whimper, and he raised an eyebrow in interest as his gaze trailed up the stairs and towards to source of the noise.

Climbing up the unlit stairs, he could hear the sighs of pleasure growing louder behind one cracked open door and his cock twitched in his jeans.

He could hear the steady buzz of a vibrator now, and the loud whimpers were tempting him more than he could have imagined.

But even better was the view through the crack in your door. He could see your head thrown back on the pillow, eyes closed and lips parted as you teased your clit with a small vibe. You were completely naked, one hand holding the vibe, the other tweaking one of your hardened nipples while you writhed on the sheets.

Out of all the houses on the street and this is what he walked in on? Shit, it must have been his lucky day.

Rafe reached for his jeans, quickly unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper to palm his dick in his large hand. He tried to keep his breathing quiet beneath the mask, watching you through the darkened eye holes as he slowly began stroking his cock.

It was almost unreal how beautiful you looked touching yourself, completely unaware of the danger lurking just behind your door. Your soft, labored breaths and the way you rolled your hips as you pressed the vibe to your clit as almost enough to send Rafe over the edge alone.

But when your hand slid from your perky breasts to your throat, lightly choking yourself as you breathily moaned , “daddy, please,” something inside Rafe snapped.

He pulled the knife out of his back pocket before pushing your door open with a loud bang that made you sit up in bed, shock and fear written all over your pretty face.

His large frame took up the entire doorway, and you couldn’t see his face at all under the ghoulish mask he wore.

You were too scared to react and in an instant, he was on top of you. Trying to fight back against the stronger man was useless, and he chuckled as he seized your wrist painfully.

Before you could even cry out, the intruder held the sharp blade to your throat and you froze. Your pulse was racing, adrenaline kicking every sensation into overdrive and you couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped your lips.

“Don’t scream.” He ordered, pressing the blade down against your skin in a warning.

It was only when his hips connected with yours and you felt his hard on against your bare cunt that you realized what his true intentions were.

Looking up at the masked man, you took a shuddering breath and hot tears came to your waterline, spilling past and trailing down your cheeks.

“Please-”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped, keeping the knife close to your throat when he finally released your aching wrist to yank his jeans down before pulling his boxers off.

He didn’t miss the surprise and apprehension on your face when you took in his size, but he wasn’t expecting to see a flicker of want as well.

Rafe shifted on top of you, parting your legs to fit himself between them. Your breaths were coming so fast you felt dizzy, and you were still in disbelief of what was happening.

You tensed when the man guided his tip between your slick lips. Wanting to move away, but fearing the knife at your throat, all you could do was squirm in his arms as he dragged it between your folds.

“God you’re soaked,” he groaned, taking his time rubbing the head of his cock across your cunt.

Your face burned with shame and disgust, and you tried desperately to choke down your unwanted whimpers when he nudged your already tender clit. Your tears were falling freely now and you trembled in fear at his touch.

“Why the hell are you crying, huh?” He sneered. His tip poked at your entrance and your thighs reflexively snapped around his waist, trying to slow him as you begged with your eyes.

“Guess you should’ve locked the door,” Rafe chuckled cruelly and you froze when you felt the head of his cock pushing into you.

The cry, or moan, that you let out was loud as the stranger sheathed himself inside of you in one stroke. The painful stretch made you squirm in his grasp and you heard him groan behind the mask.

Your mind went blank, tears streaming down your face as the man pushed himself deeper, his other hand coming to rest beside your head. When your hips met, he tilted back before slamming into you again and you whined, shaking beneath him. Your hands instinctively came to his shoulders, and he hissed when your nails dug into his skin.

“Or maybe you wanted this?” He wondered aloud, eyes flicking down to where your bodies connected. “So fucking desperate for cock you’d let anyone walk in and fuck you stupid.”

Your tear stained cheeks burned at his words, shame rising up in your gut when you felt yourself getting slicker around him as he built up the pace.

“N-no,” you sniffled pathetically, whimpering when he hit a spot that made you clench down around him.

Rafe finally removed the knife at your throat, tracing it down the middle of your ribcage, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly in anticipation. Your wide eyes were terrified, but your body betrayed you, and you hated the way you could feel yourself getting more wet with every push of his cock.

As much as he loved the fear and obedience the blade pulled out of you, he needed to touch you.

When he put the blade down onto the bed behind him, you took in a shaky breath, thankful to no longer have the sharp knife pressed to your neck, but his large hand quickly replaced it.

You squirmed in his arms when he grabbed one of your tits, squeezing your soft skin and pinching your hardened nipple. You whined loudly, blinking away more hot tears that slid down your cheek and chin, and dripped onto the hand at your throat.

“Look at me,” he growled, hips snapping against yours so hard that every thrust shook your body. You tried to focus your hazy eyes on the masked man above you, but you couldn’t stop blinking away your tears.

“Fucking look at me slut!” The hand at your throat jumped to your chin, harshly squeezing it as he forced you to look into the dark holes of the mask.

Like a switch flipped inside you, you jerked in his hold, elbowing him in the nose and knocking the mask out of place. Rafe cursed, releasing your throat to reach up, pull the mask off, and throw it across the room, allowing you a moment to pull away from him.

The knife fell to the floor as you scrambled across the bed screaming, “help!”, but the breath was knocked out of your lungs when his arms wrapped around your waist, roughly yanking you back underneath him.

You didn’t have any chance to catch a glimpse of him before he had pinned you face down on the bed. You sobbed as he grabbed your hips, pulling you onto your knees, one hand tangled into your hair to hold your head against the mattress while the other guided his hard cock between your legs.

You cried out when he slid into you again, trying to ignore the feeling building in your gut as he forced himself onto you.

Rafe pushed himself deep inside you, groaning at the change of angle. He bent over you, planting his elbow on the bed beside you and wrapping his arm around your throat.

You whined, reaching up to scratch at his forearm when he squeezed your windpipe too tight. His hips were snapping against your ass now, and he was hitting a spot that made you see stars.

When his lips came to your neck, nipping and sucking on the tender skin, you winced, the twisted intimacy of his actions making your stomach churn.

“I think you wanted someone to break in and treat you like the whore that you are,” Rafe sneered, and you could feel his hot breath on your cheek.

“No-” you weakly protested and he laughed when you squeezed around his cock. You knew that you were getting closer to the edge but you were still trying to fight it.

“Is that what you were thinking about, huh? Getting used by the first guy to walk through your door?”

His cruel words made you cry harder and you could feel him pulse inside you at your distress as his cock dragged along your walls. A sickening pang of guilt and disgust rose in your gut when you realized each stroke was bringing you nearer to your undoing.

You whined when his muscular arm flexed, cutting off your airway. His lips came to your cheek, messily trailing across your skin and you shuddered, trying desperately to turn away but he held you in place.

Every punishing snap of his hips rocked your body, snatching unwanted moans from your throat that made your face burn with shame.

He was whispering something in your ear but you couldn’t understand. You whimpered a string of pleas when his cock hit a spot that made your vision go white and you trembled beneath him, crying as your orgasm ripped through you.

“Shit-” Rafe groaned as you squeezed around him in waves, choking you harder and never slowing his thrusts.

“Mm please-” you whimpered, clutching at his arm as you took a gasping breath. Your sensitive cunt was spasming around his length and you shook uncontrollably as he slammed into you.

“Fucking slut,” he grunted, chuckling in disbelief. “Makin’ a mess all over my dick after putting up that pathetic fight earlier.”

You let out a sob at that, tears staining your cheeks. The humiliation was rotting you to the core and his degrading words echoed in your ears, taunting you. You felt so confused by the conflicting feelings swirling in your head.

Rafe pounded into you, his heavy balls smacking against your ass as he chased his release. His arm closed around your neck and he groaned loudly when you struggled beneath him, tensing around him.

He pushed deep inside you, gripping you uncomfortably tight as he painted your walls with his sticky seed. You whined as he held you in place, forcing you to milk every last drop from his throbbing cock.

When he finally released you, you took a gasping breath, desperate for air. Rafe pulled out of you and you didn’t get the chance to linger on the feeling of disappoint that flashed through your mind because he quickly flipped you over onto your back.

His hand wrapped around your tender throat and you cringed, fear gripping your heart that he wasn’t done with you yet.

Rafe examined your red, teary eyes and the way your lip quivered as you struggled to meet his gaze.

The man’s cold stare terrified you.

You were frozen as he leaned closer, softly pressing his lips to yours. When you reluctantly kissed him back out of fear he chuckled against your lips before slowly pulling away.

When he stood up, pulling his pants up and grabbing his knife and the mask he had thrown across the room, you laid on the bed, still in too much shock to move.

Rafe walked back to the side of your bed, smirking as he took in your broken state.

“I hope you start locking your doors. ‘Cause when I come back, I want more of a challenge.”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #ghostface!rafe cameron #slasher!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron noncon #rafe cameron smut #ghostface!rafe #kinktober

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goldfades · 2 months ago

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CINDERELLA───JOE BURROW

request: "Reader is going out with girlies and dressed sexy that joe almost got mad at reader cuz he doesn’t want reader going out with that dress and suddenly obsessed with boobies and told reader they cant breath in that dress" for @crispppykreme

The dress wasn’t new, but it might as well have been, given how long it had languished at the back of your closet. A slinky little thing, sleek black with a neckline that danced on the edge of scandal and just enough shimmer to catch the light in all the right places. It was the kind of dress that didn’t just suggest confidence—it demanded it.

You were proud of how you looked, admiring yourself in the full-length mirror, twisting slightly to check every angle. The effort had paid off: hair done, makeup sharp, heels that made your legs look miles long. Tonight was about the girlies, a rare night out that wasn’t dinner and wine but cocktails and dancing, the kind of carefree, late-night escapades you hadn’t had in months.

Joe had been fine about it earlier, or at least you thought he had. There was an absentminded “Have fun, baby,” thrown your way when you’d mentioned your plans this morning. But now, as his eyes scanned you from head to toe like he was taking inventory, you could feel the tension radiating off him from across the room.

“You’re really wearing that?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an edge that made you freeze mid-reach for your clutch. You turned slowly, eyebrow raised, trying to read the expression on his face.

“Uh, yeah? What’s wrong with it?” You kept your tone light, playful, even though the way he was looking at you made your skin prickle. Joe wasn’t one to throw around his opinions about your outfits, and honestly, you appreciated that about him. He knew you had your own style, your own vibe. But tonight? Something about tonight had apparently made him forget that.

He stepped closer, his hand running down his face as he let out a slow, deliberate sigh. “It’s not that it’s bad. It’s just…” His gaze dropped to your chest, and he gestured vaguely in that direction. “That dress. I mean, are you sure it’s comfortable? They—uh, you—don’t look like you can even breathe in it.”

For a second, you just blinked at him, your brain scrambling to catch up. Then it hit you, and the corner of your mouth twitched despite yourself.

“Oh,” you said, the teasing lilt unmistakable. “That’s what this is about.”

Joe crossed his arms, clearly trying to play it cool, but the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “I’m just saying. It’s kind of… tight, don’t you think?”

You couldn't stop the grin spreading across your face, even as Joe tried—and failed—to keep his cool. He was too easy to read, the faint crease between his brows giving him away completely.

“Oh, come on,” you teased, grabbing your clutch and turning back toward the mirror. “You’ve seen me wear tighter.”

“That’s not the point,” he shot back, his voice firmer now, enough to make you glance at him in the mirror. He was standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe like some kind of judgmental Greek statue, all broad shoulders and furrowed brows.

“Then what is the point, Joe?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m getting the vibe that it’s not about how tight this dress is.”

He huffed, running a hand through his hair in that way he always did when he was trying to sort through his words. “The point is,” he said slowly, “you’re going out looking like… like that. And I know exactly how guys are gonna act when they see you.”

You turned around now, giving him your full attention. “Guys? Plural? Is that what this is about?”

“It’s not about guys,” he said quickly, but the words came out too rushed, too defensive. He shifted his weight, unfolding his arms, clearly trying to walk the line between annoyed and reasonable. “It’s about… I don’t know. I just don’t want anyone thinking they can look at you like that.”

“Like what?” you asked, stepping closer, biting back a laugh as you pressed your palm to his chest. His heartbeat thumped steadily beneath your hand, but you could feel the tension in him.

“Like… like you’re up for grabs or something.” His jaw clenched, and his eyes darted away from yours, like saying it out loud embarrassed him.

You blinked, genuinely taken aback for a moment. “Joey,” you said, softening your tone, “you realize that’s not how this works, right? Just because I look good doesn’t mean I’m inviting attention. And even if someone does look—so what? I’m coming home to you.”

His eyes flicked back to yours at that, softening slightly, but his lips pressed into a stubborn line. “Yeah, but you’re mine,” he muttered, the words barely audible but so pointed they hung heavy in the air.

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. “Yours?” you repeated, shaking your head in disbelief. “What, are you going to put a sticker on me that says ‘Property of Joe Burrow’?”

He groaned, his hand raking through his hair again. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Do I?” you shot back, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Because it kinda sounds like you’re saying I can’t wear what I want unless it gets your approval.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all!” he said quickly, but the way his ears were turning pink made you think he was second-guessing himself.

“Then what?” you asked, crossing your arms now, mirroring his earlier stance. “Because, if you think I’m changing out of this dress just because it makes you nervous, you’ve got another thing coming.”

He stared at you for a moment, his jaw working, clearly torn between frustration and surrender. “It’s not nervous,” he mumbled finally. “It’s just… look, you’re too damn sexy, okay? There. I said it. And I'm not there to make sure nobody thinks they can have you.”

You raised an eyebrow, your grin growing wider. “Ohhh, I see,” you said, dragging out the words. “So, this isn’t about the dress at all. It’s about you being jealous.”

His face scrunched like he wanted to deny it, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he settled for muttering, “I’m not jealous.”

“Right,” you said, stepping closer to him again. “Because you’re totally fine with me going out looking like a ‘damn goddess,’ as I’m sure some guy at the bar is going to say.”

Joe groaned again, tipping his head back against the doorframe. “Do you have to do this?”

“Yes,” you said brightly, standing on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Because it’s fun watching you squirm.”

He sighed, his hands finally coming to rest on your hips, pulling you in closer. “I’m serious, though,” he said, his voice lower now, quieter. “You look amazing. Too amazing. And I trust you—I do—but that doesn’t mean I trust every drunk guy who’s gonna see you tonight.”

“I can handle drunk guys,” you said softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “And besides, you know I’d never let anyone get too close.”

“I know,” he admitted, resting his forehead against yours. “I just hate the idea of someone thinking they even have a chance.”

“Well, they don’t,” you said simply, smiling up at him. “You’re the only one who gets to peel me out of this dress later.”

His lips twitched into a smirk at that, and you could feel some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Yeah, you’re damn right I am.”

You grinned, giving him another quick peck on the lips before stepping back. “Now, are you done being dramatic, or do I need to remind you that this is my night out?”

He sighed, letting his arms drop but not stepping back. “Fine,” he said, though his tone still had a hint of reluctance. “But if you’re not home by midnight, I’m calling.”

You laughed, grabbing your Chanel clutch and heading for the door. “Sure, Cinderella. Whatever you say.”

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↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#nfl fic #nfl imagine #nfl players #joe burrow #joe burrow bengals #cincinnati bengals #joeyb #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow smut #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x oc

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slowbison · 2 years ago

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Feral! Miguel O'Hara x Top! Male Reader

Summary: Miguel returns to his personal break room after a fight to heal, but forgets to replenish his spider DNA serum, turning him feral. since you’re a spiderman similar to him, he needs to be fucked to be stabilized.

words: 3k

warnings: breeding, wrestling, anal sex, biting, smut

A tired Miguel emerged into his personal break room as a portal from an alternate reality closed behind him. He had spent the last few hours fighting and capturing another anomaly in the wrong multiverse. Body aching from being thrown into buildings, throat parched from yelling orders along with being mentally drained from an old lady that repeatedly hit him as he tried to direct her to safety. Slumping tiredly onto his couch, groaning as he continued to sink into the comfort. He remained still, quietly waiting for his supernatural abilities to kick in and do the healing for him then realized that it was progressing much slower than usual. Soon everything began to heat up around him, pupils dilating and contracting and the suit felt more tightening.

He attempted to stand on his feet before a wave of intense pain and pleasure washed over him causing him to fall, landing on the hard floor. Claws protruding unwillingly from his fingers, muscles tense as his breathing picked up from the sudden wave of heat, fangs feeling much heavier in his mouth. Miguel felt helpless laying on the ground, gasping as it continued to ripple throughout his body after realizing too late that he forgot to intake the serum after returning.

“F-fucking shit, this c-can’t be hap-happening! Not now!” Miguel spat out through gritted teeth as he attempted to resist the sensation sweeping over him, dick growing increasingly aroused. Moaning as he began dryly humping the ground for any form of friction to ease his growing needs. He didn’t even hear any approaching footsteps until an all-too-familiar voice spoke through a door, cursing under his breath. That was the last word he said before fully succumbing to his desires, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

“What couldn’t be happening?” You asked through the door. You were with Miguel earlier, along with the other spider people, captured an anomaly stuck in the wrong dimension. The man in question had asked to see you after imprisoning the anomaly in a trap box to report on the current status of the last reality. When you came up to his office which was seemingly empty, you scanned around the room until your senses began tingling; warning that a strange presence radiated from a rather hidden door in the back. Tracking it down, you honed your hearing to any noises present coming from the door. Only to then discern it was Miguel, making questionable noises that were having an odd affect on you. A flicker of a small flame, lit within you.

“Miguel? Are you alright? I’m getting strange vibes in there. Talk to me.”

You could hear incomprehensible speech and hissing as a loud thunk crashed onto the ground, followed by a low moan. Your face slowly heats up at the possible thoughts of what may be occurring, but this wasn’t the time for your silent desires held for the man to emerge.

Hand on the knob you twisted it before speaking out, “I’m going to open the door if you don’t stop me right now!” You could hear scattering as the door opened, revealing what appears to be a softly dimmed room. Carefully stepping in, you looked around and noticed claw marks on the floor and walls, along with a table flipped over. After completing a full circle around the room, you placed your hands on your hips confused when your senses could not pick up a presence.

"What is this, hide and seek? Thought you said it was childish when I did it to you-" You were cut off as you were tackled to the ground, a strong grip on your shoulders pinning you down. Pain surged as the claws teared into your skin. Peering up at your attacker was Miguel, who looked more feral than usual as he towered over your face, angrily bearing his fangs. His head turned to the side of your neck, grazing over your veins before sinking his fangs - lapping at the blood spilling. You let out a groan, feeling your dick stirring at the action. The flame within you grew brighter, enough to light up a small campfire.

“Hey now, if you wanted to initiate something with me. This wasn’t really what I had in mind, yanno?” You quipped, attempting to push him off with your legs. Though it seemingly felt useless as he’s much stronger than you in terms of strength. Detecting resistance, he growled pushing you deeper into the ground until his body shuddered and let out a soft whine, losing power over you. Taking the opportunity, you quickly switched your positions around before exerting force to his wrists above his head, locking his legs around yours at the same time.

“It’s over Miguel, I have the high ground. So let’s start talking, yeah?” You said, taking the time to fully analyze his current state as he thrashed around, attempting to break free.

His hair was disheveled from its usual swept back appearance, brown eyes tinted with red, and lips lightly stained with blood from what would be assumed of yours. What mainly held your attention was the hard dick pressed up against your own, albeit not as hard… yet. More logs, added to the flame. Paying even more attention, Miguel had long since begun rutting on you, releasing soft whines that progressively got louder. Face flushed, his cries got louder until moved your hand down to his hips, forcing them to still.

Upset by your actions, he began squirming once again in your grasp trying to gain any friction on his straining dick. Entertained by this you let out a chuckle at his actions, “I didn’t take you for a bitch in heat Miguel. I don’t mind fucking you senseless if that’s what you want.”

For the first time, your words seemed to have been processed in his mind. Perhaps at the words “bitch” and “fucking you senseless” was all he took away. And from what you could interpret, Miguel seemed to be more compliant as he waited, staring into your eyes for your next move.

You trailed your hand from his hip across his torso, feeling the toned firm abs on your palm. Closing your eyes, you heightened your sense of what his soft skin must feel like underneath. It wasn’t your first time running your hands along his abs, as you had decided to join his customary workout session. More like you invited yourself claiming that steel-ton trucks weren’t going to be handled by just anyone. He begrudgingly sighed refusing to argue although he didn’t put up much of a fight and the next morning you stood in front of the gym, duffel bag slung across your shoulders with Miguel at your side.

The gym had been far greater than your own personal gym’s dimension, but what really made the place shine was watching a slightly sweaty Miguel performing curl ups beneath you as you held down his legs. He didn’t ask you to but rolled his eyes while hearing you proclaim that proper positioning of the feet were important to ensure a safe workout. His face was lightly scrunched as he focused on completing his sets, your eyes lingered on his chest that were more profound and round each time he came up and traveled to his torso, abs showing due to sweat clinging onto the shirt. You didn’t even realize Miguel had finished his sets and begun looking up at your face as he laid on the ground, chest heaving, trying to maintain his normal breathing.

The tension was palpable between you two, as it had been whenever you were both left alone in a room. Moving your hands from his legs, tracing at his abs but before you could slip your hands under his shirt to feel more, a stranger rudely interrupted your rather boner-inducing moment by asking to use the area if you both were done. Miguel let out an annoyed click before standing, clearing his stuff out and proceeded to the pull up bars. You stared daggers into the strangers back, gritting your teeth, before returning to completing the rest of your workout, huffing as you went along and closed your eyes embedding the view into your head; opening them at the sight of Miguel’s thrashing beneath you as your mind had carried you elsewhere away from him. Heat swarmed within your body, as much bigger logs fueled the flames.

You let out a chuckle and gripped at his suit before tearing the fabric apart on his thighs. Asking that he’d forgive you later, Miguel hissing at you before quivering, at the cold hands felt on his skin. Palming his dick on your hands, not willing to give him just what he wants so soon. Miguel let out a drawled moan as he pushed hips up, applying more pressure on his leaking dick, aching for more.

No longer able to resist your own throbbing prick, you removed your hand from his cock and went to release your own from its imprisonment, making the mistake as your grip on his wrists loosen. Miguel seized the opportunity and broke free, wrestling your own arms for control. Snarling as he pushed you back slightly which was short lived as your hand returned — after managing to pull your pants down — grabbing at his arms and flipping him around, laying flat on his stomach. You pressed the side of his head into the floor, hissing at his ear.

“Stay down like the bitch you are and take it.” you snapped shoving three of your fingers into his mouth, lining your cock at his cheeks, fucking those fat globes hidden underneath his tight suit. Tearing at the fabric, giving you more leverage to his ass. Miguel moans around your fingers, sucking and coating them in his spit as you increase the pace. “Gonna fill you up so good,” you huffed into his neck, marking the sensitive skin, “Won’t stop till you’re full of my seed, carrying my kids.” Miguel whimpered, cock twitching at the thought of being bred so thoroughly in order to carry your children inside of him.

You purred into his ear, loving the way he began losing himself more to the pleasure. “You like that? Breed you full of my kids inside your cunt, huh?” Miguel whines got louder, desperately moving his hips further against your own in response. You slipped your fingers out his mouth, rimming around his entrance before slipping inside. At first, you toyed with him, simply thrusting it in and swirling it around, but hearing his broken whimpers you curled the finger relishing at the sounds.

Miguel’s face altered between pain and pleasure as you slipped the second finger in. Stretching the ring in scissoring motions as he jerked weakly back into your fingers, cock straining against his torso, swollen tip leaking onto the floor desperately wishing for more.

You tutted at his actions, shoving his hips down on the ground — digging your nails into his side. “Last warning love, I’ll have to web you down on this floor. Is that what you want?” Miguel turned to his side, face flushed and glaring into your eyes, a low growl emitting from his throat that was cut off with a yelp as you inserted a third finger. You pump your fingers in and out of his entrance, watching as he slightly arched his back and let out small mewls of pleasure. You could feel him forcibly relaxing as you readied him for your cock.

After a few more of these ministrations, you removed your fingers from and spat at your hand, coating your erection, aligning at his puckering hole. The thought of thrusting in with the lack of decent preparation crossed your mind as it would be pleasurable, but the second Miguel was sane he’d tear you to half, refusing to allow you anywhere near him. For a while at least. Flames had turned into a roaring bonfire, slowly dissipating your desire to hold back.

Taking it slow, you eased your way in, groaning as the tight crevice swallowed you deeper. Miguel gasped at the intrusion, squirming away as you plunged deeper into his, settling fully inside him. Your senses melting at the seams as intense flames of pleasure surged throughout your body, letting out a keen growl into his ear. The unknown wave of heat continued to boil within you, huffing steams of hot air from your nostrils. Your eyes slightly tinted red peering back at his own.

“Fuck, you feel so good baby, so fucking tight for me” you growled into his ear, nuzzling your face into his neck. “So fucking tight for me, gonna make you my personal cum dump.”

Miguel whimpered, closing his eyes and buried his head into the floor while the pain of the stretch died and anticipation of getting fucked full arose. He wiggled his hips back, hoping to entice your animalistic urge that you’ve been holding back to give him adequate time to adjust. You cooed at his submission to you and rewarded him with continuous hard thrusts, shoving your cock as deep as you could, flames consuming your entire body.

Miguel’s eyes rolled back, tongue lolling out, letting out broken cries, clamping down around your cock. There was a mix of pain at the brutal thrusts as he didn’t have the best preparation, but that didn’t matter as he continued to beg, throwing his ass back to meet your pace. Garbling nonsensical strings of ‘words’ that were stuck in his throat, cries of pleasure coming up instead.

You keened as you put more pressure into the grip on his hip, releasing your hold on his wrists and rammed your cock in, molding his ass so it would remember only you and your shape. The thought reeling you deeper into the unconscious, leaving only your carnal desires to devour you whole along with dumping all your cum into the man below, belly round - full of your cum. Miguel clawed at the ground bracing himself as you continued your onslaught, drool pooling at the edge of his mouth. He could barely think straight, the only thing he can remember is sitting at his chair before a scalding heat washed over him and now he’s being fucked into oblivion until his desire to be thoroughly bred satiated.

Miguel pressed his hips back and rocked against yours, not wanting to waste any drop of cum that could fertilize his children carrying within him. Seeing Miguel so pliant to be fucked full of your cum drove you to the edge, biting his neck which left a dark mark. Though it wasn’t enough to break skin, it will warn others that the bitch was claimed and to stay away. Either way, the reaction that got out of the submissive man was a choked sob, body trembling before spurts of cum sprayed on his chest, dripping onto the floor. He collapsed underneath you, but still weakly tightened his hole around your cock, determined to milk it for all it’s worth.

Your thrusts became erratic as you neared closer and closer to eruption. Panting heavy into his ear you snarled, “Fu- fucking shit, here it comes baby. Don’t spill any of it bitch, got it?” Miguel whimpered, but obeyed as he mustered up all his remaining strength to clench his hole. Pushing your chest against his back, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you soon let out a groan, hips jerking before stilling altogether. Strings of curses leaving your mouth, swearing that for a small moment your soul ascended towards a warm comforting light.

Miguel was in a similar disheveled state as you, though slightly worse off. His face laying in a pool of his own drool, red eyes dimmed as his brown eyes returned, claws retracting into his fingers and ass quivering to hold in your cum, slowly reaching its end.

You rolled to the side, cock still lodged in Miguel and ran your hand along his side, stopping to caress his stomach, feeling a slight bump that was undoubtedly your cum. Which was almost concerning as you had never come this much before, much less been this aggressive during sex with anyone, but you shrugged it off assuming that it was just different with Miguel, curling your arms around him. Speaking of the man, he let out a groan as he shakily turned his body to face you. Eyes piercing into your soul, face contorted in slight anger. You chuckled and ran your hand in his hair, caressing the side of his face, whipping off the drool gently.

“Welcome back my charming beast. Did your dashing prince break the curse?” You smiled, watching as Miguel huffed and rolled his eyes at you.

“It wasn’t a curse, I just lacked the necessary genes of a spider and lost control a little. It’s a side effect of sorts.”

“A little?” You eyed, glancing at the room covered in claw marks that matched the scratches on your shoulders and arms.

Miguel turned to the side, mouth creased.

“I’m sorry, this was a first for me too… I’ve never attacked someone before,” he quietly muttered under his breath. Seeing this, you huddled him close into your arms and kissed the top of his temple.

“Hey now, it’s alright. Nothing I can’t handle anyway, you forgetting that I’m Spider-Man?“ You chided, pressing your forehead against his. A small smile gracing his face as you both quietly waited to regain your strength. Falling in a trance of listening to one another's breathing, body’s conjoined as one.

“Say, when you were working on that DNA thing, was there a little bit of wolf involved?”

“No there wasn’t, stop talking. You’re ruining the moment.”

“So it’s just a cute little kink of yours to be bred by me?”

“We are NOT having this conversation.”

“My dick is literally still in you.”

Miguel grumbled and made a weak effort of pushing away from you, but you laughed it off, pulling him closer.

a/n: hey y’all, it’s a little bit late but here it is, in all it’s smutty glory. i would also like to say that my eyes have been opened to a much softer side of Miguel as a soccer mom, but because of a bastard on my tiktok fyp, there is an angst ending in my mind that could be separated from the main, if one wishes to remain in la-la-land. i might write up a lil on that world to see how it'd work, not sure when it'd drop. but because of this smut, my brain kept making different branches of miguel getting fucked and it won’t stop plaguing my mind so those are in the works, one of them including jealousy towards lego spider-man… hope y'all enjoyed this.

that being said, leon’s fic is up next to be dropped though i might be a smidge late on that. apologies. if you are interested in that, you the reader purchase an experimental drug that heals wounds made by the merchant. you give it to a wounded leon who later on notices changes in his body, specifically his chest as stains show up on his shirt... around his nipples...

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forzalando · 5 months ago

Text

casual

playlist shuffle request for @driverlando !! love you so so much, sasha, i hope you like it💛💛 pairing: lando norris x f!reader word count: 1k song: casual by chappell roan (modified ofc) warnings: 18+ mdni, spicy and implied smut, angst (sorry!)

You giggled like teenagers, buzzed off of champagne and the energy of the evening – some McLaren sponsor event that he’d mentioned weeks ago, waving his hand like it was no big deal. You said it sounded fun, and he asked you to go with him – with him. A public appearance. Cameras. Hundreds of people.

You were giddy.

Almost as giddy as you were now, running to the car because Lando couldn’t keep his hands off of you the entire night, couldn’t stop whispering in your ear how he wanted to taste you, and you simply refused to have a public scandal on your hands.

The thrum of your racing heart and the pretty smile on Lando’s face should have been enough to keep the thought from your mind but it tore through anyway. The car door thrown open, the feeling of bouncing against the seat, the uneasiness bouncing around in your mind. Lando’s hands creeping up your legs, the dreaded question creeping up the back of your throat.

What are we?

With his head between your thighs and his fingers gripping their flesh, you should have been satiated, should have been unable to focus on anything but pleasure. But it plays on a loop in your mind –

What are we? What are we? What are we?

The dreaded word tossed around all night, girlfriend. Girlfriend? Is this your girlfriend? I didn’t know you had a girlfriend? He never denied it – never said you were nothing, just laughed softly and avoided the subject entirely. Keeping you on that precipice, giving you just enough to stay until now, it’s not enough anymore. You have to say something –

“Lando, stop – ” you breathed, his curls brushing your inner thighs as he immediately raised his head to meet your eyes.

“Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

The concern in his eyes made your stomach clench – it almost made you blurt out some bullshit excuse and completely abandon everything you were going to say, let him pleasure you and take what little of himself he gave you with no complaints. But you needed more.

“Yes, I mean, no, not with this, I just…why did you bring me here tonight? With you? What does it mean to you?”

He laughed, not in a mean way but in disbelief, like he couldn’t believe what you were asking and the position you were asking it in. “I’m kneeling in the back of this car begging to give you head and you – ”

The look in your eyes made him pause, made him pull the skirt of your dress down and climb up into the seat next to you.

“Ok, we’re doing this now.” The vibe shifts completely – one of playfulness and sexual tension to an entirely different kind. He twiddles his thumbs, looks anywhere but your eyes, and your heart plummets. “I just wanted to bring you, I’m not sure why. We have so much fun together, these events are mind-numbingly boring, seemed like a good idea. Plus, I mean we’re dating, right? Not seriously or exclusively, it’s just – ”

He pauses, and you offer the word you know he’s going to say with every bit of sadness and disappointment you can muster. If he notices, he doesn’t show it. If he cares, he doesn’t show that either. “Casual?”

“Exactly,” he exclaims. He smiles brightly, like he didn’t just crush your heart in his beautiful, sinful hands.

It was your own fault, really. The first night he brought you home, whispered in between heated kisses – “baby, don’t get attached”. You’d laughed, countered with “I should be saying that to you, Norris”, wiping the shit-eating grin from his face.

But he was right, the words left your mind as quickly as he’d said them when his lips were back on yours that fateful night. No attachment, no attachment. Baby, no attachment. But how were you meant to heed that warning when he was perfect, kind, fun, and knew your body like his own?

He interrupted your thoughts with a hand on your thigh, even the way he touched you innocently - there was nothing casual about it or the way he made you feel.

Then, his voice – “I thought we were on the same page about that?”

“Yeah,” you choked out. “We totally are, I was just worried – worried that being seen in public meant something different, you know? Everyone kept asking if I was your girlfriend and I just thought I should…clarify.”

You saw his shoulders relax, the air from a heavy sigh of relief ghosting over your face.

“We should get back,” you whispered. “I’m sure people are looking for you.”

The walk back into the venue was such a stark contrast to when you ventured out – the same pretty smile on his face and his fingers laced through yours, but the heaviness in your chest wasn’t there before.

Casual. Casual. Casual.

It rang through your head the rest of the night, a smile painted on your face and Lando gripping your waist, kissing your cheek adoringly.

Maybe you could get through the casual – maybe in a year you’d have a shared apartment and you’d laugh as you tell him how in this moment you’d loved him, you had loved him enough to hold out for something that wasn't promised.

You smiled and kissed him when his driver dropped you at your place. No, he couldn’t come up because you had work in the morning and with him there you’d never get to sleep.

Call me tomorrow, he yelled after you.

And despite your better judgment, you did.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris angst #lando norris smut #lando norris #ln4 x reader #ln4 #f1 x reader #formula one #f1

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angelicqsa · 15 days ago

Text

𝘾𝙍𝙐𝙎𝙃.

︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 | 𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦.

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 | 𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩! 𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨.

You have just moved to the outer banks, some may call it the paradise on earth but you don't exactly see why people call it that since many of your interactions have been with stuck up bitches.

There's also these names being thrown around, "kook" and "pogue" you have no idea what either of them are but from what you can tell being a pogue isn't to good.

You move to the figure 8 a real beautiful place in the outer banks, rich cars, big mansions, mini mansions and golf courses. After you move you often visit the huge community garden.

It's been about a month since you moved, your days usually consisting of reading, tanning, visiting the garden and sometimes swimming. You didn't really have any friends. Until about a few day ago a girl named Sarah Cameron sees you in the garden and pursues a conversation with you...

"Those are probably the most beautiful hydrangeas i've seen." Her feminine voice cuts through the sudden silence and murmurs of the garden.

You gasp with a panicked looked and whip your head back, startled from the sudden voice.

"Im so sorry! i didnt mean to startle you! are you okay?" Sarah jumbles out with guilt.

You are slightly surprised she was even talking to you, but decide to smile softly and shyly say "Its okay, you didn't mean to."

She smiles with you and holds out her hand, "Im Sarah by the way, i love that top of yours it's so gorgeous"

"Thank you! i love your shorts! the bows add a nice touch" You hear a deep masculine voice call out for Sarah, the voice didn't sound too far, Sarah heard the voice then turns around and say "Over here!"

You look around awkwardly, a random girl randomly comes and talks to you, if you didn't know any better you would think it's a setup of some kind, but you gave her and her... friends.. the benefit of the doubt and turn around and continue gazing at the hydrangeas.

After a few seconds you hear a pair of footsteps, your back is to them so you continue minding your business.

"Who's your friend?" Another deep voice says, his was higher than the one before.

Them calling out your presence causes you to turn around slightly panicked and feeling slightly ambushed by the attention.

You see a Sarah standing next to a tall guy with slightly slicked back blonde hair and a buttoned up shirt.. a bit fancy for a garden but whatever, on the other side of him theres this gorgeous man..

Tall, buzzed cut brunette hair, beautiful blue eyes, sunkissed and one hell of a smile.

You were at a lost for words, completely frozen just staring at this man, and he was staring right back at you with the same amount of maybe admiration..? lust? you didn't know, but you gazed right back into his slim blue eyes.

"This is uh.. uhm.. i didnt catch her name.." Sarah says sheepishly with a small smile.

She wait a few minutes as her, and both mystery men were staring at you.

The mystery guy with blonde hair looks at the blue eyed boy then looks at you catching on to what was happening and snickers. Sarah, completely oblivious then waves her hands "Helloooo? Earth to mystery girl".

This causes you to snap out of the i guess you could say.. trance? you were in and look at her and blonde boy, "Sorry! Im Y/N!"

Sarah smiles and says "Well this is my boyfriend Topper" She looks up at the blonde dude and he just smiles and extends his hand for you to shake . He gave off a vibe of one of those douchebags who act innocent.

You shake his hand and smile, you then look at the buzzed brunette waiting to get his name, you were excited even.

"Im Rafe, Rafe Cameron." He says with a full smile, perfectly white teeth. 'Jesus he's like my dream man' you thought.

Eager, you go to shake his hand quicker than you did with the others.

It was safe to say you were intrigued with Rafe and his presence.

They ask if you wanted to join them to see the rest of the flowers, little did they know you already saw them all and really enjoyed going to the garden. Nonetheless you still agree deeming them kind with pure intentions.

Here you are now, back in the garden, your new safe haven in the crazy world. A picture of the gorgeous boy pops in your head, his smirk, his eyes.. his big veiny hands you imagine him touching you in all the right places with them. You squeeze your legs at the thought, praying no one noticed.

"Well well well.. if it isnt new girl in town, with a slight staring problem" That familiar deep voice murmurs from behind you.

You turn around, surprised to hear his voice again.

"Seems like you also have a staring problem from what i recall?" You say with a slight smirk.

He grins at you and nods, 'he looks fucking perfect' you thought. Sunkissed skin, a nice baby blue button up, khaki shorts and a glimmering silver chain.

You were admiring him once again which he notices immediately and smirks.

"You are adorable" He says.

This catches you off guard and snaps you immediately out of the trance, adorable?? 'is he flirting with me right now??, what should i say??' you panic. You immedietly recover.

"Adorable you say? why's that hm?" You say with false confidence.

"Your little cute dress and bows." He says while moving his hands towards your bow and his smirk forming into a smile.

You smile and blush at the compliment at a loss of words. You didnt exactly know what to do or how to react, you didnt exactly have much experience with stuff like this.

Noticing your pause, he lunges towards the hibiscus bush and plucks one off the leafy bush, then proceeds to put it in your hair which pulls your bang back.

You two were close, extremely close. You look up at him with a smile, still blushing profusely.

He looks down at you with a small smirk.

So much tension was in the air. You only just met this guy.. how could you feel this way about him after one interaction. You felt a little embarrassed, but the way he looks at you, the way his hand felt with yours, the way his presence alone speaks volumes was more than enough to override the embarrassment.

"Thank you.." You squeak out nervously with a smile.

"No problem" He murmurs, his icy blue eyes still boring into yours. After a few moments and the whispers of the wind, he backs away slightly.

You couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed, which was pathetic considering you just met him and dont exactly know him.

But that adds to the intrigue you have.

Rafe on the other hand couldnt believe his eyes. When he first walked into the garden he immediately spotted you, 'The gorgeous girl from last week'.

Before he had a chance to go up and speak to you, you were already off and walking away towards the bush area of the garden.

He decided to pursue you and walk in your direction.

When he met you for the first time he couldn't believe his eyes. You didnt look anywhere taller than 5'2 or 5'3, luscious blonde hair that when kissed by the sunlight seemed to glow, gorgeous green eyes and a cute little pink dress.

He knew the moment he laid eyes on you, he had to have you, despite you being new to the island and typically tried to avoid the 'newbies'.

When your pretty green doe eyes first gazed into his and made eye contact, he felt his heart beat fast. 'Jesus she's making me feel things.. we only just met' He thought.

When you spoke in that soft and sweet tone, he was on a mission to hear that voice again.. and again.. and again.. he'd never get tired of hearing it.

After the first interaction, he was eager to run into you again, so he thought 'There a chance i could catch her at the garden again, you cant see everything after one visit...'

And he was sure right, he laid eyes on you and immediately felt giddy, which was something that doesn't happen often.

Now here you two were, with smiles on your faces. And you decide to speak up.

"How's Sarah?"

"She okay, i think you should hang with us, last time you did it was pretty fun" Rafe says with a smile.

You feel like jumping up and down with excitement but obviously you couldnt so you just grin and say "Well thank you, you guys were pretty fun to! and i'd love to hang with yall again!"

He smiles and nods. He pauses for a second seeming like he was contemplating.

He then says, "How about we hang one on one? You and I?"

You are completely caught off guard but nonetheless you were extremely happy that he suggested that.

You nod your head and softly say "I'd love that. When would you like to?"

He smiles and looks around, "Now sounds perfect. Is that okay?"

You say 'yes of course' embarrassingly fast and eager.

You both persue the garden looking at different bushes and flowers and facts about them you didnt focus to much on it since you've been there a lot. You mainly focus on the conversations you have with Rafe.

The similarities you both have, your hobbies and what makes you happy. You both bonded greatly.

You couldn't stop grinning and having a feeling of luck.

You both eventually get tired of walking and he offers to take you to a restaurant called 'The Wreck' and you obviously agree.

You two had a great time and you got to know him very well and you both clicked. You felt happy, light and airy once he dropped you off home. You were really starting to feel glad to be in the Outer Banks. Thanks to Rafe Cameron.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 ☄. *. ⋆

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐яєqυєѕт!

─────⋆˚࿔𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐪𝐬𝐚𝜗𝜚˚⋆─────

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sweetestberryofthebunch · 2 months ago

Note

Can I request Agatha Harkness x female reader where Agatha falls asleep in reader’s lap and reader had a conversation with someone else while stroking Agatha’s hair as if Agatha was a sleeping cat? And also Agatha has complete trust in reader

Your wish is my command! Writing this was so soothing, thank you for requesting it, i thoroughly enjoyed this so much!

She’s Gonna Save Me, Call Me Baby (Run Her Hands Through My Hair) (Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)

For Agatha, the only place she can truly let go is with you.

Content/Warnings: fluff, comfort, feel good vibes, fuckyoueveryonelives AU, mentions of alcohol consume

3k words

You did it. You‘d made it out the other side of the road. Sure, looking around the living room, you all had definitely taken a good beating while there.

Sharon wasn’t here with you, she‘d genuinely been poisoned badly, and you‘d called an ambulance the moment the Road had spat you out, but she‘d already sent Agatha a message about how she was feeling better and would be going home tomorrow.

Alice had lost most of her hair in the fire of her demon‘s trial, and she had a shrivelled toe hiding in her doc martens from some of her powers being absorbed, but right now, she was smiling, sitting on the carpet and leaning back against Jen‘s knees, who was right behind her on a plush chair.

There was a scratch on Jen‘s cheeks, and she was wearing one of your hoodies and sweatpants, her own dress completely destroyed by the Road, but she was rolling her eyes with affection at something Lilia was saying.

The older witch had both hands in the air gesturing wildly, one of them holding a cigar that under any other circumstances, Agatha would have never let her smoke inside the house.

Billy had wanted to stay at the Bohner house as well, and you‘d let him clean up and take a breather like everyone else. But after that, you‘d reminded him that his parents were probably worried sick, and Alice had thrown in that maybe, there even was a missing person report filed for him. So the boy had driven off, but not after you‘d given him a tight hug and reassuring squeeze of his slumped shoulders.

„Don’t worry“, you’d said, „I‘m sure this won’t be the last time your coven will meet here.“

The wide, hopeful smile on his face made you roll back your own shoulders, and finally, for the first time in days, you stretched your arms over your head and truly let them relax.

Your little victory celebration didn’t go too long, the exhaustion from your adventure finally settling in your bones.

„So“, Jen leaned back in her seat, swirling her glass of cheap white wine in one hand. She had refused to drink any of the beer Agatha had stored in her fridge, so as the others settled down for your little victory celebration, you‘d quickly run to the gas station and bought the first thing you found. Jen and Lilia had been all over it despite the poor quality. Tonight, all that mattered was that you were here, and that you were free.

„I don’t mean to be rude, but I‘m not driving home tonight, and neither should any of you.“ The potions witch pointed at Lilia and then at Alice.

Next to you on the couch, Agatha jumped up immediately. „Of course. There’s a guest room.“

Even though you were done, it was done now, she‘d been on edge all night. Running to get more beer, cleaning random glasses that could have totally waited until morning, rearranging random flower pots … at some point she had grabbed a bunch of vegetables from the fridge and disappeared in the basement for a moment because „she had to feed Scratchy“. You let her, knowing that as long as this many people were around, you wouldn’t be able to get her to truly sit down and let go anyway.

The two of you quickly gathered blankets and pillows for your guests, settling them in the spare room upstairs, before making your way back down into the now quiet living room. There were still glasses and bottles scattered around the floor, the faint stink of tobacco that you were probably never going to get out of the couch cushions again, and the last glimmer of the fire in the oven flickering. When you sat back down on the couch, Agatha immediately let herself fall back next to you, kicking her feet up.

„God that was exhausting!“, she proclaimed dramatically, leaning back against your shoulder. But you saw right through it.

Behind all the bravado and dramatics, behind every smart quip and remark, she felt just like the rest of you did. She was exhausted, her bones aching from days of intense magic and trials, the shock of how many times you only barely made it still deep in her body, her mind still careful to truly let her take a breath.

You rolled your eyes, reaching for her shoulder and gently pushing her down, until her head rested on your lap, her legs stretched out, feet hanging down the other end of the couch.

„Sure Darling“, you mused, smirking down at her, „Out of all the things we did, throwing a celebration for our friends was the thing that really drained you.“

She blinked up at you, brows creased as she tried to quickly bounce back at you. But then your hands found her temples, fingertips gently running over her scalp before you began dragging the through her long, chestnut colored waves, and all fight left her body. Her forehead flattened, jaw slacking after she swallowed once, and as you began to set a slow, gentle rhythm in tune with her breathing, she finally relaxed.

Her body sank deeper into the couch cushion, head pressing into your thighs as she slightly turned her head, face nuzzling against you. One deep breath, and you weren’t sure if it was a sigh or a lazy attempt to get a whiff of your scent. Either way, her eyelids fluttered shut, chest rising and falling evenly, still in tune with your hands working through her hair, and you chuckled.

„That‘s what I thought“, you hummed.

„Shut up“, it was merely a whisper, blue eyes opening solely to glance up at your face, unable to hide her satisfied little smile, „I just wanted a moment of calm.“

For a moment, you felt your chest tighten. Of course, you understood better than anyone else that Agatha Harkness was seven hundred seventy seven layers of thick walls hiding the vulnerability inside that she wanted so badly to keep from everyone. God knows you’d spent the better part of three years breaking through to her. But, sitting here with your friends, with people you‘d literally gone through hell and back with just yesterday, that was supposed to be a calm moment. A calm moment shared between the coven. You just wished she could see that too.

Minutes passed, maybe a few, maybe a few more, of you keeping your steady rhythm on Agatha‘s hair. You found a few little leaves and minuscule twigs. Signs of the adventure you’d had, remnants of Billy‘s insane power, still stuck to Agatha after the long shower she’d taken.

You swallowed, pulling one of the little leaves out and rolling it between your fingers. Real, living matter. Conjured out of nothing.

„Training the boy is going to take the whole coven.“

Your head shot up in surprise. Rio stood in the shadows of the hallway, in her modern clothes, hood over her head, face hidden in the dark. Just her sharp eyes pierced through to you, her expression unreadable.

After the whole coven had to bargain with her for the boy‘s life, she’d disappeared in black smoke, taking the storm clouds and any last remnants of the witches' road with her.

Still, you‘d set up a chair for her earlier, in case she wanted to join the celebration, and you‘d even put one of the beers out, remembering she had liked them back when Agatha was still under the hex.

Now, with everyone else asleep, Rio sauntered through the living room, right past you, and sat down in the exact chair you‘d put out for her, reaching for the unopened beer bottle standing by her feet.

On your lap, Agatha‘s head rolled to the side, facing away from Rio, cheek nuzzled against the soft flesh of your thigh. Her breathing was even. If she was awake, she didn’t want you or Rio to know.

You suppressed your little laugh at that, instead brushing the few locks that had fallen over her face out of the way, absentmindedly beginning to braid a few deepwood brown strands together.

After watching her peaceful slumber for a while, you glanced back up at Rio. „You missed the party“, you simply stated.

Rio leaned forward, beer in one hand, legs spread as her elbows rested on her knees. She looked exhausted, drained maybe, but you had always struggled to read her. It wasn’t like she got actual dark circles under her eyes. Her appearance was always exactly how she wanted it to be, which certainly made the black smudges around her eyes a lot more dramatic.

„Are you mad at me?“ she kept her voice low, like she didn’t want to wake Agatha. You appreciated that.

„Mad about what?“, you retorted in the same low volume, twisting the little braid you’d finished around your finger, before letting it go and watching it unravel all by itself. Agatha’s hair had always been voluminous and untameable, just like her.

„About me showing up“, Rio replied, and when all you did was look at her with raised brows, she took a long swig of her bottle.

„Me showing up here in the middle of the hex“, she explained after a deep sigh, her eyes avoiding yours, „About how I barged in here after I saw you two, even though I had no place being this upset about your existence. About me showing up on the road, when you were the green witch she brought along. About … that whole tantrum I threw earlier.“ At that, her eyes flitted down to Agatha, to her arms, still covered in hundreds of little cuts from the shattered glass Rio had thrown.

You‘d tried your best to clean them up and pick all the shards out, Agatha wincing in pain and flinching away from you multiple times.

Then, Rio glanced back up at you, and for the first time since meeting her, you saw warmth in the depth of her eyes, the dark and rich colour of molten chocolate.

Your tongue ran over your lips, sucking your cheek in as you thought for a moment.

„No“, you finally answered, fingers returning to brushing through Agatha‘s long hair, soft and familiar under your touch. „Not anymore.“

You saw Rio sit back, shoulders relaxing just the slightest bit, and you continued. „At first I was. I still was earlier too. But, you didn’t know about me when you showed up in the hex. We both wanted her out, and only you were powerful enough to actually break through the magick. And after that“, you shook your head, holding in a little laugh, „If I were in your position where i come back after centuries to break her out of a hex that was threatening to ruin her life, only to find her with another woman, in a little house in the suburbs, I guess I would have been mad too. The front door was still a little much though.“

Your eyes met, and you saw an amused twinkle in hers, lips curling into a little smirk. She absolutely didn’t think the front door had been too much, and maybe that was okay. Billy and Alice had fixed it earlier today.

When the silent amusement you two shared flickered out, you pursed your lips. Your fingers stilled on Agatha’s scalp for a moment, and you watched her chest rise and fall evenly for a moment, trying to resist the cold shudder threatening to run down your back.

„When you came for us on the Road, that did hurt me, I‘m not going to lie. But, at the end of the day, Lilia had predicted a white heart and a black one, so I guess I should have seen that coming.“

You felt Rio‘s eyes on you, but you refused to meet them. Instead, your gaze wandered from Agatha‘s chest back to her face, so calm and peaceful in your lap, nose slightly scrunched up. The weight of her head against your legs was grounding, and your fingers picked up their work of running through the length of her hair again.

When you did meet Rio‘s eyes, you didn’t feel any worry about your position in all of this anymore. You didn’t have to. Your Voice didn‘t falter, not even in front of Death herself.

„And your little tantrum earlier … I think we both know that was a little much.“ You waited for her reaction, but when she kept her head cocked to the side, listening to you instead of arguing back, you couldn’t help but give her a little smile. „I‘m still glad you showed up tonight.“

At that, brown eyes widened, and for the fracture of a second, you could see her shoulders tense. She hadn’t expected that. After everything you’ve been through these past few days, after all her screaming and fighting and every time she went toe to toe with Agatha, not only pushing her buttons but trying to provoke a reaction from you as well, she hadn’t expected any kindness from you.

And yet, here you were, pulling a chair to your table for her, saving a drink from the others for her to enjoy. Giving her a space to talk about what had happened, if she so desired.

Eventually, Rio shook her head, leaning back and crossing her arms. The bottle in her hand was empty, and she tapped it against her own elbow, almost like a nervous habit. You didn’t know if Death even got nervous, but she certainly got angry.

Not right now though. When she spoke, her voice was calm, if a little higher than usually.

„I don’t understand how you can be so … forgiving towards me." she said finally, and it sounded earnest, genuine. Your head tilted to the side, waiting for her to elaborate. Rio just shrugged, glancing over at the fireplace, now nothing more but glimmering ashes. „I don’t deserve your kindness. I was a bitch to you.“

„You’re being kind of a bitch right now.“

Your eyes met Rio‘s first, both of you surprised by the woman in your lap suddenly joining the conversation. When both of you dropped your gazes down, you found Agatha’s eyes fluttered open. She turned onto her back, arms stretching over her head, back arching like a cat as the back of her skull pressed into your thigh a little firmer as she stretched.

A little yawn, maybe a sigh escaped her lips before she turned over to glance at Rio.

„Can’t you see that we are trying to relax? Why can’t I have a single quiet moment without you showing up and stepping on it?“

Rio’s eyes widened, and your muscles instinctively braced themselves for another potential storm, hands tightening in Agatha’s hair protectively. But, to your surprise and relief equally, all Rio did was stand up. Her empty beer bottle was put on the coffee table with a clink, and her heels clicked on the wooden floor. „You’re right. I shouldn’t be here. I‘m gonna leave you alone.“, her lips were pressed into a thin line, and there was a deep sadness behind her eyes, the kind that hit you like a brick to the head when you saw it in someone else’s gaze. „Goodbye.“

You gave Agatha a sharp look, nodding towards The Green Witch, striding past you with slumped shoulders. The woman in your lap swallowed, biting her tongue once, before she cleared her throat.

Rio was already halfway to the front door, but stopped in her tracks when Agatha spoke again, albeit still from her position laying in your lap.

„There’s probably going to be breakfast tomorrow before everyone leaves. You should come back for that. Be together with the others and stuff.“

Your hand ran through her hair once more, and you gave her a little wink of approval. When you looked back up, you gave Rio a warm smile. „If you can, you join us whenever the coven assembles. We’re your sisters now.“

Rio scrunched up her nose, reaching for the door handle. „Ugh. Don’t make it weird!“

She was gone without even stepping outside.

You shook your head in disbelief, before glancing down at the woman still lazily draped over your lap.

„Had a good nap?“, you asked her, brows raised, „Or did you eavesdrop on us the entire time?“

You thought about gently scolding her for sending Rio away so abruptly, she hadn’t interrupted anything. But with the way Agatha was draped over your lap, hands still over her head, hair pooling around her face like a halo and that self satisfied little smile on her face as she blinked up at you innocently, you didn’t have the heart to. Tomorrow you could have a talk about it, or maybe next week. Now, with her powers restored and her feud with Death at least halfway resolved, you had time. Time to heal, and to mend those relationships.

Agatha blinked a few times, then she took your hand in her own and placed it on her cheek, nuzzling into the warm touch. „I didn’t hear anything you two said! Or at least not all of it!“

With a roll of your eyes, you leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose, but her hand found the back of your head and pulled you in to meet her lips properly. You smiled into the kiss, teeth against her soft lips, before leaning back up, just enough to look at her.

„Thank you“, Agatha whispered and her hand dug into the hair on the back of your head, gently holding you in place. „You’ve been incredible to Rio. If I were you, I would’ve already strangled her with my bare hands.“

“You already do that just being you, no reason to be in my shoes for that“, you teased, feeling her nails scratch at your scalp as she drew lazy circles over your head. „Someone has to cancel out your urge for violence.“

Her hand tightened in your hair, just slightly, and her eyes were half closed as she blinked up at you. „I‘m glad it’s you“, her other hand found your cheek, and you leaned into her touch, biting the inside of your cheek.

„Me too“, you replied, hand clasping over hers, „Not that you’d listen to anyone else anyway.“

#berry writes things #agatha all along #agatha harkness #aaa #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #Rio Vidal #agathario #fluff #agatha coven of chaos #request #wandavision #mcu #marvel

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minswriting · 18 days ago

Note

nsfw request!! sitting on hotch's lap and jerking him off to the point of overstimulation, he can't move so he just has to sit there and take it >:) sub hotch my beloved

nsfw | mdni | aaron hotchner x reader | overstimulation, handjob, etc. sub!hotch vibes

you were sat on aaron’s lap with your hand in his cock as you jerked him off. he had already cum twice, evident by the stains on his black slacks that you hadn’t even bothered to take off all the way. you just pulled them down to his thighs, enough to reveal his cock. aaron had a long day and you just wanted to help him feel better.

you used his cum as lube as you continued stroking his cock. aaron’s face was red, lips were parted as his head was thrown back. his face had an overstimulated grimace on it but he didn’t ask you to stop. he didn’t want you to stop.

“look at you,” you murmured, leaning in to press a kiss onto the shell of aaron’s ear. “covered in your own cum, all messy.”

aaron let out a small moan, turning his head so he could look at you with glossy brown eyes. you couldn’t help the smile on your lips from the look of aaron. he looked so blissful, completely at your mercy. he hardly ever gave up control. but the rare moments he did? you absolutely adored it.

you stroked your hand faster, making sure to use your thumb to tease the head of his cock. aaron let out a choked gasp, bucking his hips from the overstimulation. it didn’t take long before he was cumming again, moaning in a tone that was almost whining. he thought you were going to stop after the third time he came, you usually did. but when your hand kept moving, not even giving him any time to relax, aaron squirmed from the overstimulation. “p-please,” he said, his voice rough.

“please what, baby?” you asked, still stroking his cock. the slick sound of your hand moving up and down his length filled the room. “use your words.”

“n-no more,” he said, eyes closed shut. “too much.” and yet, he was moving his hips to meet your hand.

you let out a small chuckle, still moving your hand. “just one more, baby,” you said, kissing his jawline. “you can give me one more, right?”

and the enthusiastic nod that aaron gave while whimpering was more than enough consent for you to continue stroking aaron. he adored these moments. the moments when he is so pent up from everything that all he can do when he’s with you is be at your mercy as you take care of him. and you always make sure to take care of him.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminals minds x reader #🌸 — min’s asks #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds reactions #criminal minds aaron hotchner

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torawro · 22 days ago

Text

LIKE SPECKS OF SUNLIGHT IN THE EARLY MORN. ( p. a.)

portgas d. ace & marine!fem!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, ageless and blank blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is written / portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine it as such! everyone is welcome to read <3 reader wears glasses, and is a marine stationed on an unnamed island at a base along the grand line. ‘lazy morning’ / ‘morning after’ kind of vibes so, a bit of pillow talk (?) . references to smut & making love (it already happened). contains some angst & angsty themes throughout (i.e., ace dealing with his self esteem issues, low self worth, etc..) otherwise it’s supposed to be fluffy ( the quiet, somber kind i think ) ! descriptions of kissing & borderline making out. ace is kind of lovesick and clingy but it’s subtle-ish. lots of introspection and reflection on both him and the reader’s part. kind of based on mitski's "my love, mine all mine", definitely had that song on repeat as i wrote this. romantic and deeply poetic rhetoric but y’all already know that’s just how i write lol. told from omniscient point of view (third person). proofread this as i was feeling sleepy, so please excuse any mistakes or things that don’t make sense!

word count ━━ ! 3.9k

notes ━━ ! guess who's baaaaack.....! i know it's been a while since i have published any original work and i want to apologize for that. lately it's been difficult finding the energy to write something for more than five minutes and honestly, i think i just need to rediscover what drives me so i can tap into the zone more often. i missed it though, and hope i get to write more this year <3 anyway, first fic of 2025 and it feels right to make it about second commander of the whitebeard pirates, portgas d. ace. this fic is my late birthday 'gift' to him and something of a love letter because ohhhhh i miss my pookie bear so much :(( this entire idea started as just me thinking about kissing each of his freckles because i have the personal hc that he doesn't really like them, the reason for it is inherently tied to his distaste for his father and by extension himself :/ and then it just turned into this lmao. i hope ace doesn't behave too out of character here, as this is also my first time writing for him in any context, so pls be gentle with me. REBLOBS + COMMENTARY ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED.

IT WAS NOT THE LIGHT chirping of small birds that awoke you, nor was it the ringing of your biological clock telling you that the dawn was near. Instead it was a familiar tugging sensation within the pit of your stomach— the need to relieve yourself— that caused your eyes to peel themselves back slowly and with struggle, slumber from the previous night hasn’t been completely washed away yet.

It took your brain several more moments to dust off enough of its sleepy exhaustion before you attempted to sit up from your comfortable position in bed, but were immediately met with some light resistance.

The resistance in question was a long, muscled arm thrown around your soft torso, blackened ink of a tattoo staining the skin on its bicep. It was still too dark and you were still too tired to make out the sharp angles of the marking, but you knew what they were; your eyes have gazed upon it more times than you could count, and it has made a home in your memory.

That’s when your ears registered the rhythmic and almost nasal snores that flowed from the mouth of the man who held you so securely against his chest, and you almost smiled at how completely at ease and relaxed he seemed.

At times like this, when things were still or you had a moment to yourself, you still could not wrap your head around the fact that you had gotten yourself involved with Portgas D. Ace— willingly at that.

The first time was a fluke at best. That’s the excuse you were going to go with. You didn’t realize he was a pirate— an infamous pirate with hundreds of millions of Beri to his name— until your clothes were already halfway off and you were feverishly grinding down onto his lap like some touch-starved whore who’s been aching to feel something. That ‘fluke’ was one spurred on by alcohol, a particularly rough week at sea, and a sizable lapse in judgment, but you hadn’t felt that…… alive in a long time. But now, two years have passed since you have been seeing Ace in secret like this, and you have long since given up blaming it on a fragile emotional constitution further weakened by alcohol. You knew good and well what you were doing, and you could no longer deny the way your heart was constantly set aflutter whenever you spent any amount of time with him.

You did try your hardest to not let yourself enjoy how … domestic it all seemed: waking up next to him in the morning and falling asleep entangled with each other at night, having him hide out at your cozy apartment for days at a time, cooking him meals when you were relieved of your duties for the day. You wouldn’t— shouldn’t let yourself enjoy such content thoughts too much, because you also knew it could all be over in the blink of an eye. The world could be cruel that way if it wanted to.

But still, that didn’t mean you couldn’t be grateful for these moments. From what you could tell, Ace seemed to enjoy this arrangement as much as you did. And for now, that was enough.

Lightly wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you carefully lifted his arm from around you, moving slow so you wouldn’t wake him up. Once you’ve successfully loosened his hold, you sat upright, a muted ache shooting through your lower body as you shifted around to stand. The ache mostly resided in between your legs, and a flood of memories from just hours ago rushed over you at once, causing a tingling warmth to bloom underneath your skin. Ace had poured so much into you, it never failed to leave you equal parts stunned and breathless when you witnessed his passion overflow from the brim of his being. His hands, calloused palms that always ran hot, had been everywhere— your body could still feel the heat of where they had laid, caressed, groped, smacked, and squeezed. And you involuntarily jolted as you recalled where his fingers and lips had been, how it felt to be pressed so closely against him as he simultaneously took you apart.

After another moment of being lost in your own reverie, you pulled yourself out of it and filed those memories away in a separate corner of your mind, so that you may more fully indulge in them later. As you carefully removed the blankets and climbed over the sleeping pirate, one bare foot had hardly hit the cool wooden floor before a hand wrapped itself around your wrist.

A quiet grumbling noise vibrated from behind Ace’s lips, his eyes remained closed as he spoke, indicative that he was barely awake. “Wh…where y’goin’....?” His words were slurred and thick with sleep, his deep voice reaching the depths of your being to spark something to life in the pit of your belly. But you promptly ignored it for now.

“To the bathroom, I gotta pee.”

He replied with another mumbling sort of noise, presumably one of acknowledgment or begrudging acquiescence— you couldn’t be sure. “M’kay, just . . . hurry back t’bed, will ya? M’cold.”

You found amusement in the inherent irony of his claim that he was ‘cold’ when he always ran a little warmer than most— not to mention his devil fruit powers— but also in the fact that despite his urging you to take care of your business swiftly, he hasn't released his hold on your wrist yet. In fact, he tugged you a little closer to him, as if he was trying to pull you back into bed.

A small smile began to curl at the corners of your lips as you moved to manually pry his fingers from your arm so you can make your way out of the bedroom and down the hall.

For the next several minutes, Ace was left alone.

He stirred in his partially-awake state as he made himself comfortable again in bed, but one eye managed to pry itself open by a few millimeters. It was unfortunate he was roused from his deep sleep, but he was sure he’d doze off again soon enough.

From what he could see, the room was still dark for the most part, his surroundings washed in a rich, navy blue color, a telltale sign that the sun would rise within the next hour or so. Aside from the faint rustling coming from the bathroom, the air was occupied by a serene silence, meaning his innermost thoughts became that much more perceptible to his mind’s ear.

Sometimes, a part of Ace felt like fate had shined upon him— just a little, just this once— when his mind mulled over his…unique relationship with you, and all the events that led up to this exact moment. He too understood the implications of seeing you like this, but he couldn’t find it within himself to let go and move on. There was just…something about you, something special.

Even now, he still couldn’t quite understand why you were taking such a big risk and basically throwing your life away by getting comfortable with a pirate like him. The both of you came from two different worlds, the morals embedded within those worlds constantly pitted you against each other.

But you willingly ignored them, and so did he.

Perhaps that was the ‘special’ quality about you and this relationship that he still struggled to articulate, how pure and genuine it all felt— how you were. Either way, he was grateful that he wasn’t the only one being a little selfish. And every now and again, Ace might silently thank the universe for allowing him this one thing, even though he hasn’t, and probably never will do anything, to deserve it.

The increasing volume of footsteps pulled Ace from his thoughts, and soon enough you reappeared in the doorway, making your way back to bed– back home in Ace’s arms.

Your lips parted in a yawn, putting your hand over your mouth to muffle the sound, before carefully climbing over the taller man to reclaim your spot next to him. Ace wasted no time encasing you against him once more, one arm laid lazily across your stomach and the other resting under your neck, acting somewhat as a pillow of sorts.

“...took too long,” the pirate muttered under his breath, the low, vibrating sound of his voice so close to your ear did nothing for your fiercely pulsating heart. It was the only organ in your entire body that seemed to be fully awake right now.

“I wasn’t even gone for that long, ya big baby. Prob’ly less than five minutes.” A soft sigh punctuated your reply, snuggling more into the toned front of Ace’s chest and abdomen as he adjusted the thick blankets over both of your bodies. The covers, as well as the gentle warmth radiating from his exposed skin, provided a steady stream of heat that battled against the crisp morning air, both sensations nearly enough to lull you back to sleep. You enthusiastically pushed aside the fact that you had to get up again in two and a half hours for your shift to patrol around the city.

“Shuddup, let’s go to sleep.” Ace grumbled, pulling you even closer to him so that very little space existed between both of you, and nearly nuzzling his face in the bonnet you wore on your head. A soundless chuckle rumbled within your chest, finding his sleepy and almost pouty tone both amusing and adorable.

However, despite his own request, and the fact that his own eyes were barely open, Ace was finding it difficult to once more quiet his thoughts enough to drift back to sleep. They were still a bit too loud and knocked against his skull too much.

Such thoughts only seemed to intensify when both of his eyes managed to peel themselves open this time in order to observe your form next to him. From what he could see based on where he laid, Ace silently took note of how tranquil your expression was as your breathing began to even out, how long your eyelashes actually were without your glasses obscuring them, and the small birthmark on your cheek that he developed a habit of kissing. His dark eyes roamed across every inch of your face, and he relished in the soft flesh of your stomach underneath his fingertips, giving it a feather-light squeeze every now and again.

You were here with him— in this bed, hardly wearing anything at all, and practically clinging to the arm wrapped around your abdomen— bound together with a kiss on that fateful night two years ago. You wanted to be here, he knew that. So why was it he still had to wrestle with the phantoms of doubt in the darker sectors of his mind? Why did they haunt him so, and prevent him from just plainly accepting this for what it is? Accept that it was okay to indulge, okay to claim this one thing as his and his alone? He didn’t even claim his own father, but this— you? Oh, how he wanted to be greedy, he yearned for it. But something in him, some dark, caustic, unforgiving thing, made him feel like he shouldn’t.

But didn’t he deserve something nice too? Something that wasn’t, or could no longer be tainted by the wicked and unloving world they were born into?

Ace knew that you cared for him— quite a lot, more than you should. There was a four letter word he might have used to label the way in which you cared about him, and he about you, but he dare not say it. He dared not say it in fear that the universe would snatch it away the moment it left his lips, and reveal that it was only playing a heartless joke on him.

“Hey. Are you… okay? Okay with this, I mean.” The words left his lips without putting a real thought behind them, for his mind was preoccupied with trying to keep itself afloat above the sea of negative ones that tried to carry him off to a place he did not want to visit.

Your left eye opened, then your right, as if opening them would help you better process his sudden question. Your brows furrowed next, digging deeper into your forehead in order to figure out the hidden meaning behind his words— or if there was one to begin with. “I…this position is fine, and I’m comfortable. Unless you want to be closer to the window?” You replied with your own question, uncertainty of what he was asking about thick in your tone. And judging by the way his arm tightened around you by a fraction and the nearly inaudible sigh that left his lips, it became clear that’s not what he was truly asking.

“No, I meant…are you okay with us?” Ace’s already husky voice quieted even more, nearly tapering off into a whisper. But he was pressed close enough to you that you were still able to hear him loud and clear. Something about the way he phrased his question rang a silent alarm in your head, indicating that the forthcoming conversation was going to take a more solemn turn.

With that in mind you shifted in his arms, turning around so that you were now facing Ace directly, still so close that the tips of your noses nearly touched each other. His hold on you readjusted as a result, the tattooed arm once more staking its claim on your waist and effectively trapping you against his front. His sable tresses fell unceremoniously across his face, a few strands nearly covering one of his eyes. Your fingers didn’t miss the opportunity to brush them away.

“Yes.” Your reply was simple, and you thought it important to make that clear first because something, an emotion you were unable to categorize, flickered in his still-hooded eyes. And something about it worried you. “I am more than okay with us. There isn’t another person I’d rather be with right now.” The fingers lingering on his skin suddenly became your entire palm, as you were now cupping the side of his face.

Ace burned even warmer here compared to the rest of his body, and you found physical comfort in the sensation. His skin seemed to ignite under your touch despite his sleepiness, and the dark-haired pirate was internally grateful that it was still quite dark in your room, so you were unable to see the light flush that was beginning to form underneath his freckled cheeks.

“Why are you asking?” Your inquiry was as tender as your touch, and it made his chest ache.

It took Ace several seconds to search for his next words and arrange them in a sentence, for your straightforward reply admittedly caught him off-guard. Now he was unsure if there was a need to continue at all.

But the specters of doubt were ever persistent.

“I just…” The words faded away on his tongue before he could say them and instead, your response rang loud in his head.

‘There isn’t another person I’d rather be with right now’.

Did you mean that? Have you always felt that way? Did you just happen to say that because he asked a question, because somehow you knew that’s what something in his soul wanted to hear?

And then, Ace found his words again. “You can do better, you know.” His voice turned more gruff, rough around the edges, as if he had to forcefully tug those words from the back of his throat. As if it hurt to say that. “You could, if you wanted. You’re gorgeous. Intelligent, resourceful. You have a respectable career, and you can cook damn good.”

You released a soft chuckle at that last part, finding it comical how he always found a way to talk about how good your food was. But whatever uptick on your lips faded as soon as it came once Ace parted his lips to speak again.

“You don’t have to spend your time, money, or energy on someone like me. You didn’t have to spread those pretty legs of yours for me, either. Didn’t have to let me stay here whenever I come to town. You didn’t even have to let me sleep in this bed so close to you.”

He paused, the muscles laying against and wrapped around you tensed briefly, his eyelashes met the apples of his cheeks when he allowed his eyes to close for a moment. When he opened them again, he found it harder to look at you— if he did, he might crumble away. “You could do better than a pirate like me, who has nothing going for himself except for instability, anger and…and hate. So, why?”

The next words reverberated in the air without Ace even having to say them. Why choose me? Why risk all of that for me?

Similarly, something throbbed uncomfortably within your chest as you listened to him speak, even after he finished and silence descended upon the both of you.

You could only wonder where this line of questioning originated from. It was uncharacteristic of Ace to voice thoughts of this nature, even more so when there was no prior word or action to lure them forward. You continued to observe him in the quiet, not even realizing that you had been softly caressing his cheek all this while until your hand came to a halt.

Why? Why were you with Ace, entangled in every sense of the word and jeopardizing the life you’ve built for yourself for his sake? The answer seemed so simple, but not as much now that you had to consciously think about it; you somehow struggled to put it into words.

Ace was like the rays of sunlight that peeked through heavy drapes in the early morning— much like they would soon be in a few hours— or like the flickering flames of a small fire that offered you solace on an unkind wintery night. He was warm and intense, but mellow and tender at the same time, in his own way. He offered you comfort when you needed it, stirred up something in you when you wanted it, brightened your life when you didn’t even realize how dull and monochrome it was. Ace was…

“Allow me to offer a question of my own. Why are you taking an equally significant, if not greater risk, just to curl up in my bed with me? Why come back so often to this town, risking capture, if only to hold me close, eat the food I make, and to make love to me?”

Your inquiries seemed to tug you forward, motivating you to scoot a little closer to Ace so that there was hardly even an iota of space existing in between your faces. His breath hitched quietly in his chest at that, more so when you leaned forward and simply placed your lips on his cheek, right on top of the dozens of prominent and faded freckles that resided there. Something about the gesture felt intentional— like you did not kiss his face, but the light specks on top of it. And thinking about it like that made his taut chest twinge again in a manner he could not describe right now.

Your breaths against his flesh were soft and leveled, and successfully fanned the flames of an even pinker flush to blossom across his visage.

He struggled to give you a coherent answer to your questions because his inner thoughts seemed to reset every time your plush lips came in contact with his face— all gentle like he would break if you applied too much pressure. He never associated that word with himself before, nor had anyone else in his entire life.

So why did he do it? Why did he do any of it? Why was he so attached to you, to your existence, your presence, and everything that reminded him of you?

Ace knew the answer.

He fears he’s known it for some time now.

But would it be right— would it be okay to label it with the word that was sitting on his tongue? Did he truly have the capacity to bear the weight of it? Would this blissful reality he found himself nestled in start to unravel the moment he said it? Would the universe truly let him have this one thing to himself, forever?

A feathery, open-mouthed kiss from you onto his nose cut off his thoughts, but confirmed his answer.

A bleary sort of smile, edges softened by his affection for you, tugged the corners of Ace’s mouth upwards. The hand that encased your waist traveled further downwards to take the meat of your thigh in its grasp, and toss it over his own hips. He had slung your leg over himself in an attempt to hold your bodies inexplicably closer, the feeling of his fingers gliding lazily across your exposed skin caused your pulse to quicken.

“I understand. Thank you.”

Within another second or two, his mouth eventually met with yours. His lips and yours seamlessly molded together, like they were two carved parts of the same whole. It was a slow, saccharine thing, ultimately leading your fingertips to slide back and thread themselves through his dark locks, and the calloused, hot palm on your thigh to grip the area ever tighter— as if you’d evaporate if he didn’t do so.

Ace loved you— was in love with you. His heart thrummed against his chest when he tossed that fact around in his head, gradually accepting it to be true as he steadily deepened the kiss.

He murmured those three words into your mouth after languidly coaxing it open with his tongue so the wet muscle could slither inside and make a home there. It was barely intelligible, but somehow you knew what he’d said. Such a declaration was only reserved for you, so of course you recognized it. Ace didn’t even want the words to linger in the air, lest the universe heard what he had said. He still thanked it though, grateful to whatever deities thrusted you into his path that night so that he could have this moment with you, and build similar ones like this hereafter.

You reciprocated it, quietly sighing the words back into him and he eagerly swallowed them up, giving your thigh an affectionate squeeze in response.

Briefly, you pulled back, but only by a millimeter— not wanting the cold air of the early morning to catch you yet— and your palm ended up on Ace’s jaw. The pad of your thumb brushed over the sheet of freckles with no particular pattern or rhythm, and you absently thought about how they might be your favorite feature on his entire body. As if to emphasize this point, you pressed a lingering kiss onto its surface again, and for a moment, Ace thought he might shut down. He simply could not comprehend the loving nature behind such a simple act, or why it affected him so; all he could do was offer a small, fond grin.

Time still marched forward, but it graciously allowed the pair of lovers to bask in each other for a little while longer. The sky’s hue would slowly shift from a deep navy blue to a slightly brighter one, causing the dimness of the room to inch back into its corners for the day. The sunlight would soon come.

( # ) @icy-spicy @triangularz @pookieace @ichore @valentineluvu

#໒꒱ newborn stand ─ sosa’s filez #one piece #op #one piece fanfiction #black fem reader #op x reader #op x you #one piece x reader #one piece x black!reader #one piece x black reader #one piece portgas d ace #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas ace fluff #portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x black reader #portgas d ace x black reader

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revehae · 20 days ago

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sorry babe i dont have any descriptive hard thoughts atm 😔 only came here to say nomin as roommates 🤤🤤🤤 lots of manhandling

tweaking off an energy drink right now and i cant stay still but here’s what i got. also this got wayyyy too long i had to stop tw // nothing actually! unless homosexuality triggers you but this lowkey kinda gay in a “my boyfriend and i saw you across the bar and we really dig your vibe” way. also i was gonna include manhandling but it got long, so…im sorry

sorry when you said “nomin as roommates” my brain went… just nomin or? i figured that’s not what u meant but my mind still wandered there so anyway.

jaemin and jeno recruiting you into their not relationship… like, they swear they’re not dating or whatever, and you don’t really press about it because it’s none of your business, to be honest. but they have been searching for a new roommate, a female one, not that they mention this to you during their recruitment, and something about you checks all the boxes of whatever it is they’re looking for. you don’t know that, though. you’re just happy you finally seemed to find a place to stay after much trial and error.

anywho, it’s relatively normal at first, other than the fact that jaemin seems to be naked most of the time… it’s not like he walks around the house freeballing, but damn close. it’s not so bad though, because he cooks sometimes and shares. jeno cleans. you appreciate the routine and harmony they seem to have going on, finding that they complement each other in some weird way, and you want to know how you can fit into that dynamic. after all, if you’re going to live here with them, you have to contribute, right?

it’s hard, though. honestly, you hardly understand why they were searching for a roommate in the first place. jaemin and jeno seem to handling everything, including rent, just fine together. they have a perfect balance in their life with or without you. jaemin cooks, jeno cleans. during their movie nights you walk in on, that they never ask you to join, jeno makes the popcorn and jaemin picks the movie. they work out together, coming home from the gym with sweat-drenched shirts that cling to their bodies, laughing about things you will never understand. jeno pinching jaemin’s bicep to marvel at how strong he is now. jaemin’s hand wandering over jeno’s chest for a second too long before commenting on how sturdy he’s gotten. sometimes you wonder if they will invite you, too afraid to ask to tag along, but they never do.

not until you accidentally walk in on them, jeno’s hand around jaemin’s tall, stiff cock as it spills over with semi-clear trinkles of prerelease, jaemin’s hips involuntarily arching into jeno’s palm. you gasp, eyes immediately hitting the floor as you jerk your head away and start to shut the door, spluttering, “sorry,” over and over. you had intended to come to jaemin’s room to ask him for help on changing the settings on your camera and the door had been slightly open. but a call of your name makes you halt just before you can shut it completely. “y-yeah?” you stammer, still not looking up from the floor. really, it’s not much of an invitation that you are given; “come in and close the door,” is what jaemin says.

for some weird reason, you obey.

that is how you find yourself with your palm around jaemin’s cock instead, your hand smaller than jeno’s. he tips his head back, moaning. he is sitting with his legs thrown open and you are standing at the edge of the bed, fisting his cock, all the while jeno is behind you, lips tickling the back of your neck. you try not to let it bother you, try to focus on anything but how it feels to have him pressed against you, but the only other thing you can focus on is the fact that jaemin is completely naked in front of you, bare chest heaving, and your eyes glimpse over the undulating muscle before going down to his toned stomach and throbbing cock, coated with a glistening sheen. jeno chuckles in your ear, the sound making you shudder, and murmurs, “so tense… relax, precious.”

his kisses droop down to your shoulders, pushing the loose hem of your oversized shirt so that it slacks just above your forearm. “you know what jaemin does to me when i need to relax, hm?” he asks, and he does expect you to reply. it’s a whisper when you do, like you have completely lost your voice. “he uses his pretty pink lips. look at them. aren’t they pretty?”

you do look at jaemin’s lips, and they are pretty. you have noticed before. never dry, which impresses you. jaemin grins proudly at the compliment, feeling adored. “yeah, aren’t my lips pretty, princess?” you nod your head, muttering, “yeah… they’re nice.” jaemin smiles a little wider, a little wilder. “make me come and i’ll put them on you. deal?”

and he does put them on you. your thighs squeeze the pale palette of his soft cheeks as you straddle his face, cotton panties hanging on jeno’s finger until he has to manually hold you onto jaemin’s mouth, keeping you in place when the pleasure becomes too much to bear. strong hands gripping onto your hips as you try to get away from the stimulation, with the added force of jaemin’s fingers tightening on your thighs as he sucks as your sensitive clit. you can’t move. you can’t escape it. “no use in fighting it, babe,” jeno tells you huskily, nibbling at your earlobe. “you’re not going anywhere. just let jaem make you feel good, okay?”

#na jaemin smut #jaemin smut #lee jeno smut #jeno smut #nct dream smut #nct dream hard hours #nct drabbles #nct dream x reader #nct dream drabbles

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qin-qin16 · 5 months ago

Text

My computer is possessed?! Oh, wait, it's just my out-coded skeleton boyfriend!

Summary: When some of your work in progress goes missing, you decide to start investigating whether your computer has a virus. That is until you realize that the few remaining works are of one character: Error Sans. cw: comedy, kinitoPET and creepypasta vibes, Error is an asshole and Reader is stressed, gn!reader, dark jokes about suicide, but nothing serious, we have a bit of jealousy Error, writer Reader… note: I finally wrote down this idea from weeks ago lol and the divider is from @sister-lucifer (Part one) (Part two)

You would never forgive yourself.

Five hours of work. Five. And it all vanished with a simple power outage. The entire neighborhood was in the dark for hours — and when the power finally came back, everyone heard the lengthy stream of insults and curses you hurled at yourself when your computer screen went blank; there were no files saved in the cloud and no trace of everything you had written.

Your body glides over the wheeled chair as you slowly spin in circles, “Eu quero me matar…” You murmur, without any genuine or serious inflection in your words, even though deep down in your mind, there’s a certain desire to end the emptiness that lingers from your anger.

“Three pages… three damn pages…” You run your hand over your face, resting it on your mouth as you feel your eyes sting from the static white of the computer screen. “I can’t believe it.” You finish, still in disbelief over the unexpected blackout.

You know that old saying, “I’ll believe it when I see it”? Well, the problem was right in front of you: a completely empty Word document, except for a few notes saved before everything was lost. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe what you were seeing.

“I’m not going to write all that again! I can’t even remember the last thing I wrote!” you rant to no one but the lifeless machine in front of you, running both hands through your hair and tangling it with unnecessary force — leaving only irritation in certain spots on your scalp and strands of hair sticking out in every direction.

Settling into the chair — legs crossed and leaning forward like a shrimp — you start closing all the tabs left open on the computer, not caring at all about what’s saved or not. All you want to do right now is shut off that old piece of junk (that can't even handle an internet outage) and go grab something to eat. Maybe that would help you relax and distract yourself from this mess.

However, the large ERROR 505 flashing on the screen interrupted your ongoing stream of frustration.

The damn title, accompanied by a series of codes that made no sense to you, was plastered on the last tab of your browser, just waiting to be closed. But even after you clicked the little red box three times — eager to shut the window as quickly as possible — the page stayed open.

It felt almost as if it were mocking you. Almost…

“Perfect! Just what I needed!” You don’t hesitate to slap the monitor, taking out all your anger on the old machine. “Now even the damn Google isn’t working!” Your grunt is muffled as you bury your face in your hands, holding back the scream that desperately wants to burst from your throat.

“God, if you exist, why are you punishing me like this?” Your murmurs are heard only by the computer as it continues to mock your suffering with the bright white screen — and that damn ERROR 505 displayed at your face.

“Know what? Screw it, I don’t care.” With your hands thrown up in defeat, you finally surrender, tired and out of patience to battle this cursed error.

This is worse than when the Ao3 is down—no, I can't exaggerate like that, you think to yourself as you crouch in your chair searching for the charger’s plug. If this page won’t close on its own, then it’ll have to be forced; nothing beats unplugging the old computer directly from the outlet.

Which turned out to be a challenging task, not only because of your awkward and uncomfortable position in the wheeled chair, but also due to the mess of wires and cables under your desk. You didn’t even know which one belonged to your computer, let alone where the outlet was.

“Maybe it’s best to just yank everything and hope the outlet comes with it.” You go back to your original position, stretching your spine and letting out a quiet grunt as a pop resonates from your back. “I need to stop spending hours sitting in front of the computer.” Your grumble is nothing more than a hollow promise, unlike your spine, which was definitely promising to develop some kind of scoliosis.

“Okay, here we go— what the hell is this?” you exclaim, and even though your voice lacks any emotion — probably exhausted from all the shouting earlier — your jaw drops, matching the widening of your eyes as you see that the once flashy ERROR 505 screen has now changed to a completely different tab.

What had once been a white background filled with bold text was suddenly replaced by your Tumblr homepage... featuring countless fan arts of Error Sans scattered throughout your feed.

It wasn’t unusual for you to search for fan art and fanfics about him; in fact, the number of tags you followed with his name was far too many to count on both hands!

However, today was not one of those days. In fact, you had been trying to set aside your obsession with the glitchy skeleton to focus on other Sanses. Those three pages you lost forever were actually part of a fanfic about Cross x Reader that you had been working on for a few days.

So… why did the page load with this theme that you had been ignoring?

It doesn’t matter, I’ll just close this tab and—oh my God, what a gorgeous fan art! You quickly get distracted by the artwork on your screen, and without hesitation, your finger starts clicking rapidly on the mouse, liking and reblogging as fast as you can.

You must have been very tired not to notice the muffled sound coming from your computer — different from the noises it made when starting up or running a virus scan. No, no, this sounded oddly like a stilted laugh, as if the audio had been chopped into pieces.

But why would you pay attention to that? Computers couldn’t laugh, especially not at your half-closed eyes and the sentences you’d written incorrectly because you were sleepy…

Right?

Tagging the people who wanted to see a fanfic of this:

@snastheskeleton64, @moonpieandfries12345, @lostsoulsofdragon, @mrcatmario, @something-random1-1-blog, @joonebugg, @crunchontoast, @honeybubbletea33, @what-have-i-unleashed, @leafwateraddict, @sweethoneybear, @sleepy-batz

If you want to be tagged in part two, please let me know :D

#error sans #error sans x reader #error x reader #error x you #utmv #utmv au #qinqin stuff 💖#sans x reader #sans x you #sans x yn #utmv x reader

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saddleups · 3 months ago

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OBSESSED WITH THE JAMES WALKING IN DRABBLE! please (if you can ofc) write one but with the roles reserved? like james is the one jerking off and y/n catches him? i like dom leaning james but god, when he's all whimpering...chef kiss. anyways i love your work blue and i can't wait to see who else you start writing for. have a great day!!

★ ��𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 2k

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 . . . request , complete. JAMES SUNDERLAND X F!READER !! 18+ SMUT MDNI !!

★ 𝐂𝐖 . . . m!masturbation . pervert vibes . oral ( m!recieve ) . p_rn w/o plot.

★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . . aaaahhhh !! thank you sm bb <3 love this idea !! wrote this pretty quickly , but i hope it captures what you're in search of <3 luv u 2 bb !!!!

James had arrived home earlier than expected, a rare occurrence that brought joy. The day at the office had been less than ideal, his mind constantly wandering to thoughts of you and unable to focus on his tasks. He had even considered leaving early just to be able to taste you again, the desperation gnawing at his stomach. But now, as he stepped inside your shared apartment, he was met with the comfortable silence that only came from being in a familiar space. Looking forward to seeing you, he's met with the realization that you hadn't arrived home yet. Glancing at his phone, he reads off a text from you.

"Traffic, sorry babe."

"Of course," he mutters. Placing the phone face down on the catch-all beside the door.

With a sigh of relief, James discarded his suit jacket and removed his tie, enjoying the feeling of being free from the constraints. Leisurely, he walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge, retrieving a bottle of water and tearing it open with eagerness. As he drank down the cool liquid, some escaping and trickling down his chin, he couldn't help but think about how much he wanted more than just water to quench his thirst.

Feeling worn from the long day, James made his way to the bedroom and decided to wait for you there. The sight that greeted him was one he had become all too familiar with - mangled bedsheets, pillows thrown haphazardly, and pajamas scattered in unlikely places. It was clear evidence of just how passionate things could get between the two of you, bodies intertwined like pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together perfectly.

Sighing once again, James bent down and began picking up the items scattered across the floor. He knew you wouldn't be happy returning home to such a mess, but he couldn't help but relive the morning's events in his mind. The sweet moans that escaped your lips without inhibition as he moved inside you slowly, savoring every moment until both of you were consumed by chasing each other's highs.

A pair of maroon panties come into James' view. They weren't anything special, a generic bikini style that you rotated in your everyday wear. Miles away from what you'd treat James with on special occasions.

As he picked up the panties from the floor, he couldn't resist running his fingers over the ribbed fabric, tracing the stitching and admiring the lace trim on the band. His eyes were drawn to the small stain in the center, a marvel that it had stayed preserved since this morning. Without hesitation, James brought the fabric to his nose and breathed in the perfume it radiated, feeling his cock throb with each huff. "Fuck," he whispered before running his tongue along the seam where your wetness had soaked through.

Feeling a surge of pleasure rush through him as he tasted your lingering essence on the deliciated fabric. His body responded in an instant. A familiar warmth spreading through his core. His eyes sealed, savoring the moment and letting his imagination run wild with thoughts of you. Everything about you. The arch in your back, "Fuck," the desperation in your face -- your eyes rolling, "god, she's driving me crazy," fingers clawing at the sheets underneath you, "I can't wait."

Unable to resist temptation any longer, James shed his slacks and boxers. Your panties clutched in his grasp, unwilling to loose sight of his newfound treasure. He ran them over his chest, down to his stomach, teasing himself as he pictured your soft skin beneath his fingers instead of the silky material. He returns the fabric to his face taking one last inhale before wrapping it around his hardening length. James stroked himself slowly, pathetically whimpering as he begged to build tension. He imagined your body pressed against his, your lips trailing kisses down his neck.

The sound of jingling keys in the front door broke through his reverie. James hitched a breath, standing up quickly to zip his pants up painfully against his throbbing length. He quickly tucked the panties into his pocket. His heart still racing, beads of sweat dripping down his neck. He heard your footsteps approaching, "James…" you called out into the empty hall. James takes a deep, hard breath in an attempt to compose himself.

You appeared in the doorway, a vision that made his breath catch. Your eyes lit up when you saw him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. James surrendered his weight on the bed, using a pillow to disguise his member from you.

"You're home early!" There's a cheer in your voice that signals to James that you were blissfully unaware of what he was up to just moments ago. You saunter towards him, hands landing on each of his shoulders when you finally approach.

"Earlier than me, that's a first. But in my defense, traffic got me. You got my text, right?"

"Yeah, I did. I'm glad you're home." He muses looking up at you with a half grin.

James pulled you in close, inhaling your intoxicating scent. "I-I couldn't stay way." He murmured against your abdomen. Hands roamed your body. Studying your frame, completely entranced by you.

Your eyes meet with a raw intensity as you stand over James, your fingers lacing through his tousled blonde hair. "Let me shower first," you suggest, the weight of the day still heavy on your shoulders. But James tightens his grip on your waist, determination etched into every line of his face. The pillow on his lap falls to the floor, revealing what was hidden underneath. You can feel it against your knee, throbbing. It must've been so painful for him.

"No, please," James' voice is barely above a whisper. "I've been waiting."

Your jaw clenches at his words, the sight of him like this making your heart race. You help him to his feet, kissing him deeply and tasting the desperation in his touch. He's fighting against the urge that he knows so well - to press you down onto any surface and sink himself inside you with wild abandon. But he waits for your lead.

As your hands roam over his body, unbuttoning his shirt with care, you tease him with playful words. "Don't want to ruin such a nice shirt," you say, knowing that even these small moments of intimacy are driving him up the wall. He can barely speak without whimpering your name and begging for more.

Your hands dip into his pocket, expecting to find a handkerchief or some other object. But instead, you pull out something unexpected - your own panties from this morning. Your gaze meets James', and both of you are overwhelmed with a mixture of pleasure and shame.

"I… I was just keeping them safe," James stammers, his voice shaky.

You say nothing more as you drop to your knees before him.

"Safe from what?" you ask again.

But James can't answer. His mind is consumed with thoughts of you - your name alone sending shivers down his spine and making him ache with need.

"What were you doing, James?" you press, your voice dripping with desire.

James…James…James…the way you said his name made him pant. And he can't resist any longer. "I was jerking off thinking about you," he confesses, his words punctuated by hitched breaths as you work his pants open and free him from the confines of his briefs. "Jesus, fuck," he groans, unable to contain himself any longer.

You ask again, your eyes locked on his impressive cock - thick and long, with a reddened tip and strings of precum glistening in the light. A single vein runs along the shaft, one that always brings you pleasure when it's buried deep inside you.

"With my panties?" you repeat.

"I… I found them while cleaning up," James chokes out, his arousal and embarrassment evident in his confession.

You can't help but feel a surge of arousal at James' confession. The thought of him pleasuring himself with your panties sends a shiver down your spine. You look up at him, your eyes dark with desire.

"Show me," you command, your voice husky.

James hesitates for a moment, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red. But the lust in his eyes is unmistakable. With trembling hands, he takes the panties from you and brings them to his face, inhaling deeply. A low moan escapes his lips.

"Like this," he whispers, his free hand moving to grasp his throbbing cock. "I imagined you wearing them, how I push them aside when I put my cock in you."

You watch, mesmerized, as James begins to stroke himself, the panties still pressed against his face. His movements are slow at first, tentative, but quickly grow more urgent. His breathing becomes ragged as he loses himself in the fantasy.

"Tell me more," you urge, your own arousal building as you witness his raw desire.

James groans, his hand moving faster. "I thought about peeling them off you, tasting you through the fabric. God, your scent drives me wild."

You can't resist any longer. You lean forward, replacing his hand with your own. James gasps at your touch, his hips jerking involuntarily.

"Like this?" you purr, matching the rhythm he had set.

"Yes," he hisses, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. "Fuck, yes."

Your free hand travels up his thigh, nails scraping lightly against his sensitive skin. James shudders at the touch, his breath coming in short gasps of air. You can feel him trembling beneath your fingertips, he's struggling.

"Look at me," your command is soft, direct.

James' eyes flutter open, filled with want. The sight of you on your knees before him, hand wrapped around his cock as if it belongs more to rather than him. It nearly undoes him. He lets the panties fall from his grasp, reaching down to tangle his fingers in your hair instead. "I need you," his voice is thick, louder than his original whimpering state. "Please."

You smirk up at him, slowing your strokes to an agonizing pace. "Patience, love. We're just getting started."

With deliberate slowness, you lean forward and run your tongue along the underside of his shaft. Right on that vein that you loved so much. James' hips buck involuntarily as a low moan escapes his lips. Your tongue swirls around the tip, tasting the beads of precum there. James' fingers tighten in your hair, urging you closer.

"God, you're killing me," he pants, watching you through heavy-lidded eyes.

You take him into your mouth slowly, inch by torturous inch, until he hits the back of your throat. James throws his head back with a strangled cry of pleasure. You begin to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks as you suck. Your hand works what doesn't fit in your mouth, twisting slightly on each upstroke.

James is coming undone above you, his usual composure shattered. His hips rock in time with your movements, seeking more of the wet heat of your mouth. You can feel him getting close, his thighs tensing beneath your free hand.

The desperation in his voice sends a surge of adrenaline through your body. "I need you inside me," he stutters.

With your mouth still engulfed, you muffle out "You are inside me." Your words aren't coherent, but the vibrations in your pitch radiate over James. He moans, loudly, a sweet symphony that only encouraged your motions. Following it with yet another guttural moan, he thrusts forward, his hips stuttering as he spills himself into your waiting mouth. The salty, creamy taste of him floods your senses as you eagerly swallow every drop. Slowly, James pulls away from you, leaving a trail of saliva and cum glistening on your lips.

"Fuck," he gasps, still lost in the intense pleasure that had overtaken him. He traces his cock along your lips, his eyes filled with unbridled desire.

Smirking at him through lust-filled eyes, you taunt, "What was that about being inside me?"

#james sunderland smut #james sunderland x reader #james sunderland #james x reader #silent hill 2 #silent hill 2 smut #silent hill x reader #james sunderland silent hill #silent hill x reader smut #filed: it can't wait #saddleups

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stxrvel · 1 year ago

Text

hate is a strong word

summary: you hated Bucky and you were convinced that he hated you back. until one time he was talking to you and it started to sound... lovely? what was happening?

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: 6k

warnings: some bad words, a lot of arguments, a HUGE flashback, a little bit of angst i think? bucky and reader insult each other, reader doesn't like to listen, bucky is easily angered, bucky likes to destroy things when he gets angry but regrets it easily, this is not exactly a healthy relationship(? descriptions of weapons, missiles and buildings being bombed, reader is also very stubborn and likes to put her life at risk… or so.

note: hi guys!! so i came back and i am kinda proud of this one. i think i haven't felt that way in a long time. i gave myself the time to write when i felt like it and it was wonderful, so this came out. also i put the poll for a whole week and i can't change it now >:(, but i think this onsehot fits the angst with a happy ending (im not sure if this fits the angst tho, you gotta tell me) but im gonna try to do something else that fits the vibe, and i'll probably do some other poll to write about someone else. (also i think i should warn you guys that i dont think im that good writing action scenes or tension scenes, so if that's bad i hope you forgive me): anyway, hope you guys like this one!! i love reading your comments so if you want and can, please leave some <33 love you all and see you next time!

part 2

Bucky was really pissing you off too much at that moment. Or maybe you were feeling a little uncomfortable.

He hadn't spoken a single word to you since you had arrived at that tiny house, only shrugged silently and then exploded. You had seen Bucky explode several times before and you admitted that watching him was somewhat entertaining; seeing the faces of frightened people, trying to flee away from his angry face and destructive hands, but physically forced to stand by and listen to his scolding. You used to have fun with that. However, at the time, when you were the extreme recipient of that anger, it wasn't so much fun.

You had already heard a couple of broken glass, shattered wood and metal containers fall to the ground. Maybe five minutes or so had passed and he was barely pausing to look at his artwork. It wasn't too much that he had taken and thrown while you had stayed in the room, but it had all sounded very loud, so you had no choice but to go out and see what he was doing.

You were leaning against the threshold of the hallway to the bedrooms, right across from the living room and kitchen. Bucky looked like he had just finished getting all his anger out when he finally stood silently. He probably thought you were asleep while he was doing all that, as if that sound couldn't wake you up. Was he really that angry about what you had done? You mean, yes, it was very risky, but there you were alive, weren't you?

You felt the best thing you could do was to stay quiet and wait for him to say or do something, because you could risk that angry outburst really coming down in your face. For that moment he had only taken it out on the house, which had nothing to do with your problems, and you didn't want the arguments to start filling the silence that followed his stillness.

But, well, you didn't always do the right thing. That's why you were in that situation in the first place.

“Are you done yet?” you signed your sentence.

Bucky had a tense posture, squared shoulders moving in rhythm with his accelerated breathing. His back was to you, staring at the kitchen counter that had been left completely empty. You knew by the way he was clasping his hands that he was trying to maintain his composure.

“Are you serious?” his voice came out hoarse, a sign of his growing anger.

Maybe you should have stopped there, or when he continued to not turn to look at you, but you just couldn't keep your mouth shut.

“What's your problem, Barnes? Yes, I took a chance, but it's not that big of a deal. It's not for this,” you pointed to the mess around you, even though he wasn't looking at you.

“It's not a big deal, you say?” Bucky moved and you felt yourself watching his angry figure move in slow motion. “What's your problem?”

His beady eyes met yours. You felt a little intimidated by the ripples of annoyance coming off his body, filling the entire room with an unbearable, suffocating tension. His scowl and that strangely calm tone of voice made your hair stand on end.

None of the pieces of glass or splintered wood on the floor looked as dangerous as that expression on Bucky's face. He looked very angry, yes, but there was also something in his eyes when he looked at you. Something like concern… but that was impossible.

“Really, Y/N, what's your problem? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Now, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I was the mission leader!” his voice rose, his body moving forward as he pointed his index finger at himself. “And you were supposed to follow my orders.”

“I did, Barnes, I-”

“No,” he exclaimed, again moving closer. “You didn't do anything I asked you to do! Why can't you just…? Argh.”

You moved back a little as he planted his hands on the dining room table. You felt a little pressure in your chest at the sight of him like this, as if defeated and hopeless. Disappointed. But that was a common thing. That's why you used to have individual missions, and that's why you didn't really like working in a team. You mean, it wasn't wrong to do it, but everything always ended up in arguments because nobody liked the way you worked, so it was better to do it alone, right?

Seeing Bucky like that reminded you of how many times you had seen that look on the faces of Steve, Natasha, Tony, Clint, even Thor… It was never welcome nor were you comfortable with what was coming next, but it was the way you worked, how could you change out of nowhere something you had done your whole life?

Maybe you just had to apologize, sometimes that worked. Because you also knew that, knowing how bossy and caring Bucky was, you should have at least held back a little during the mission. Bucky's patience couldn't stand that sort of thing.

“Listen, I'm sorry, okay? I was a little careless, but that's how-”

“A little careless?” he interrupted you, his voice and face incredulous. "You almost got yourself killed."

“We're in this job under that risk, Barnes, that's not news.”

The man in the middle of the mess ran his hands over his face, elated, frustrated and surely overwhelmed. He let out a sound somewhere between a snort and a growl before turning back to look at you.

“Why can't you just listen?”

His accusing gaze enlarged a hole in your chest that you constantly tried to ignore, planting bitter feelings of sadness that you were usually very good at avoiding. But at that moment, for some reason, you couldn't stop your face from twitching at the strong, hurt tone of the man who looked at you as if he couldn't believe who you are and what you do. It seemed like Bucky was always in denial and today he realized that what everyone always told him was true.

That look, that dull gleam in his eye, that expression of understanding… All of that you were used to seeing, but coming from him it felt different. As if you hadn't really meant to cause those feelings, as if you wanted to turn back time to do things differently. The surprisingly incredulous and remorseful look was digging deep into your head, searing itself with hot iron to make sure to haunt you in the future.

At that moment you didn't care if Bucky realized how much his words affected you. Maybe you deserved to feel that way. Maybe he should have known that it affected you too much, that would surely do more than an apology.

“If only you had listened to me, we would have left sooner and without any trouble,” Bucky spoke again after what felt like hours of silence.

You couldn't take him back. It was true.

“Why did you…? Argh. Whatever. I'm going to report to Fury.”

His figure passed you like a blur. You barely felt his presence very superficially before all was silent again.

Your heart ached again. For some reason, it wouldn't stop hurting that it was still beating.

The day before.

“WHAT?” you exclaimed in disbelief and the director's tired look reappeared.

“It's already scheduled, Y/N, I can't undo it. So just go, try to cooperate together and come back in one piece,” Fury leaned back against the back of the chair, putting his feet up on the desk.

You looked at his shoes as if they were to blame for everything.

“It's funnier to think Bucky reacted the same way,” Tony spoke up, sitting in the chair next to yours, a mocking expression on his face.

“Shut up,” you smacked his arm before turning back to the director. “Sir, you know Barnes and I don't get along and knowing that, what makes you think we'll hit it off on a mission?”

Fury shrugged. “A hunch.”

“A hunch…?” you repeated in a low tone, twice as incredulous that the big SHIELD director had just said that.

“That's it, agent, you're dismissed.”

You left his office on your own, not because you had been dispatched. The walk to the housing complex took you longer than ever at that point.

You'd only had one mission with Bucky Barnes once a couple of years ago and it had been a disaster. Your group missions usually ended with a close call, but that time with Bucky it was like going to hell and back.

You two had never gotten along. Regardless of Fury's hundreds of attempts to get along, you had never managed to vibrate on the same frequency. It seemed more like you repelled each other every time you were together, and it was totally justified because Bucky was too bossy and wouldn't let you breathe for a single second. Every second of the mission had to be ruled by him because otherwise he was going to explode into a sea of rage and, God, no one wanted to piss Bucky off in that Complex. However, you were always the first to tell him that his tactics weren't working or that he was too slow and well, naturally, you ended up arguing.

You met Natasha and Steve halfway to the rooms and from the way they both looked at each other before the redhead approached you knew you must surely have a scrunched up face.

“Did something happen?” Natasha asked as soon as she reached your side and started walking at the same pace as you, slightly more hurried than usual.

“Fury assigned me a mission with Barnes,” you spat out the good news, impossibly frowning harder at the mention of that name.

“Oh,” Natasha nodded. “Well, you could try to work things out-”

“What things, Natasha?” you paused, turning to look at her as everything around you turned red. “There's nothing to fix here, because Barnes is a stubborn, obstinate, childish, bossy, stupid man who is incapable of speaking like a civilized adult and only knows how to shout orders everywhere as if he's the bossy one in the Complex. I can't stand him!”

“Wow.”

You heard his voice.

“I hope you know the feeling is reciprocated.”

You turned to see him, his body was leaning against the island at the entrance to the kitchen, in a strategic spot as if you could never realize he was there because your path was to the other side. Natasha watched between the two of you like a tennis match, fearful as if at any moment the screaming would start and she would have to run away.

You didn't know what to do. You were super angry, yes, and you felt your blood boiling inside your veins, too. And you'd said all that stuff to Bucky's face before, and God knows how many times before you'd argued just by seeing each other in the halls of the Complex. Despite that, you felt trapped. The anger was still there, yes, but his gaze pierced through you like a sword.

“Believe me, I don't want to go on this mission with a stubborn, obstinate, headstrong, ignorant, individualist like you either, who cares not for the safety of the team but for her own victory, no matter how she achieves it.”

With his eyes sharp, his heavy footsteps approached you, echoing in your head loudly like the second hand of a clock. He had stopped at a safe distance as he spoke and at one point Natasha had grabbed your arm when it seemed you had tried to approach him as well.

“You're a hypocrite,” you spat at him.

“Ha! Me?”

“You always play the saintly dove, but you know you're not much different from me.”

“I'm nothing like you,” Bucky wrinkled his face, as if the very thought caused him to shiver with disgust.

“You're an individualist, too, imposing your plans on others.”

“You never have a plan! What do you expect me to do, let you go and die?”

“I do have plans! But you don't like them because they are more effective than yours.”

“They're more effective at the cost of risking more of our lives.”

“That's what our job is all about!”

“Our job is about protecting! How are you going to accomplish a mission if you're dead?”

“Well, I've done pretty well so far, in case you haven't noticed.”

“If I had a nickel for every time you've gone airhead straight into danger and ended up nowhere near dead, I'd have as much money as Stark.”

“And if I had a nickel for every time your stupid, slow plans have caused you to lose sight of the target and made you come back empty-handed, I'd be twice as rich as Stark.”

“At least my kill rate is minus five.”

“And my hit rate is one hundred by the way.”

“Are you even listening to what you're saying?”

“That I always finish missions on the first try, unlike you?”

“That you're treating your life like it's something insignificant.”

“Ah, now you care about my life?”

Natasha tightened her hand around your forearm again preventing you from again getting too close to the man who was getting on your nerves. Before he could respond, you spoke again:

“Look, Barnes, to make it absolutely clear to you for the rest of your long life: I love my life and I love my job. I love my life because it allows me to have this job and I love my job because it allows me to have this life. If you have a problem with how I choose to do the job, that's just that, your problem. But don't think you're coming here to give me a psychology lesson to make me believe that I don't value my life just because now you've run out of arguments. It's because I value my life, Barnes, that I always come out of every mission unscathed. I don't put myself at risk because I'm oblivious. I always have everything figured out and that's why everything always works out for me.”

Bucky snorted, his body moving away from yours, but despite that expression on his face he didn't respond again. He gave you a sidelong glance before walking back into the kitchen.

Your shoulders felt a little lighter. For a moment you thought he was going to continue arguing.

Natasha next to you sighed, finally letting go of your forearm.

“Why did you hold me so tight?” you frowned at her, rubbing the part of your skin that was slightly red. “Did you really think I was going to fight a super soldier?”

Natasha shrugged under your gaze.

“We've known you to do crazy things.”

“I wouldn't have stood a chance of beating him even if he gave me the upper hand.”

Five hours earlier.

You hadn't seen Bucky for the rest of the day after that discussion, until the next day when you had to get on the Quinjet and didn't even glance at each other.

Steve was in charge of handling the airplane and, apparently, he was also in charge of briefing you on how you were going to proceed on the mission, because Bucky was too busy drilling holes with his gaze somewhere else on the Quinjet away from the two of you.

Neither spoke when you descended nor when you approached the base apparently in a state of abandonment.

Bucky's mission were flat and simple, but as usual he had no backup plan, because all his backup plans were the same: run away. Bucky had a chick's sense of survival, that's why when things went bad was the time when he would scream at you the loudest.

Just like it happened on that mission.

“This place is deadly quiet,” you spoke for the first time, barely earning a sidelong glance from the man next to you.

You had already finished thermo-sensor checking every floor of the building and it was indeed desolate. Still, you felt a strange uncomfortable chill run down your back.

“Well, that's what deserted means,” Bucky commented, his sarcasm sharp.

You rolled your eyes at him, even if he couldn't see you, and kept walking with your gun raised as you approached the checkpoint.

“I mean I can't even hear birds or crickets, doesn't that strike you as odd?”

“Well, we're on the fourth floor, wouldn't it make it stranger if you could hear them at this altitude?”

“Well, you can hear at this height. Tell me, do you hear anything down below?”

Bucky paused. They were a few steps away from reaching the room. His deadly stare caused you nothing but boredom and you would have ignored him completely except that he let out a sigh, dejected. You detailed him minutely as he seemed to focus his hearing on external sounds.

“There's nothing,” he spoke after a few seconds, his brow slightly furrowed.

“You see?”

“But that doesn't mean anything. We'd better finish this quickly.”

Ignoring the grimace on your face, Bucky moved to step into the room whose door was wide open. You stared offended at his back and felt the urge to smack his big head with the butt of your gun.

“Here it is,” you heard him exclaim from inside.

Sighing you made your way to where he stood. A large display of old computers anchored to the wall.

“You should do it yourself,” you looked at Bucky with a smirk. “I don't handle equipment this old.”

Bucky only snorted in response and moved with his gun to another side of the room, leaving you in complete silence to do your job.

You moved quietly and sat down in front of the machines. You plugged them into the power source you brought in your suitcase and in a few minutes they began to work.

The mission was simple. There was one of the old HYDRA bases that contained specific information that Fury needed to find. Up to that point, they had searched about seven abandoned bases without any success. So there you were with Bucky, at the eighth base they had identified, digging through old commands and in another language trying to find the information they needed.

Ever since they left the Complex that morning you were convinced you would find nothing. They had already raided several bases and there were still a few more to go. The probability that you would find that information at that time was…

Bingo.

“Got it,” you exclaimed to Bucky.

You heard his hurried footsteps and then felt the warmth of his body next to you.

“Is that it?”

“Just a folder.”

“And why does it load so slowly?”

“It's an old computer, Bucky, it works at its own pace.”

Bucky gave you a sidelong glance. “Wish you understood me like you understand that thing.”

“Aish,” you pouted by way of mockery. “Jealous, Barnes?”

The aforementioned just snorted.

The load was running at forty percent and truth be told, yes, it was too slow. But you could do nothing but wait, there was no way to speed it up.

Bucky paced back and forth behind you and you just watched the green lines move as if that helped at all. But, well, what else could you do?

At one point, as the charge was about to reach eighty percent, you heard interference on your communicators.

“Argh,” you shook your head and raised your hand to move the device a little away until the sound died down. “Steve?”

There was no response.

You turned to look at Bucky, who had the same quizzical expression.

The interference returned and then you heard Steve's voice distorted.

“… of… moment!”

“What the fuck is he saying?”

Bucky remained silent, tapping the device on his ear as if that would fix it.

But you saw it before you heard Steve's voice again.

A clump of people through the window. A freshly loaded cannon.

“Barnes…”

And at that moment, Steve's voice filled them with clarity.

“It's an ambush! Get out of there now!”

The quickness of the impact didn't let you process what was happening. Less than a second after hearing Steve the ground shook beneath your feet. The cracks in the floor started small and then swallowed you apart.

You held onto a beam, barely lucid enough. You propelled yourself upward, swinging your forearms over the patch of ground that was still intact. You heard Bucky's grunts in the distance. He was surely all right.

You heard him call out to you too, but as soon as you could sit down on the ground, the first thing you did was to reach for the pendrive.

Your heart was pounding, so hard it might as well have flown out on its own. Your breathing accelerated, with adrenaline rushing through your body was the only thing you could feel. At that moment you felt capable of anything.

You stood up quickly to look out the window again. The people were gone and the cannon had been destroyed.

It was at that moment that you realized that Steve was still talking on the communicator.

“I'm fine,” you replied, after being able to decipher his words amidst the constant buzzing from the sound of the explosion and the dizziness you felt at the sight of the hole next to you.

“Okay, you're both fine,” the Captain spoke again.

“Y/N, you can get down from there and get to the floor below. I'll catch you.”

At the sound of Bucky's voice, you moved away from the window.

Bucky had landed on the floor below, and yes, from where you were you could jump up and you'd probably have nothing but a cramp.

“How's it going up there?”

“Well, the shields are holding up okay, but I've got poor vision. I think they're regrouping somewhere else.”

You looked around.

Most of the floor had swallowed up the computers, but the main one was still loading the document. You could see the green from where you were. It was at ninety-seven percent.

But it was dangerous to get too close. The pendrive was dangling from the main computer which was about to succumb to the cracked floor.

There was some concrete left in front of the computers that you could walk across, so, without a second thought, you mapped out a mental guidance plan and moved forward.

“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?”

“I'm getting the pendrive.”

“What? Are you insane? That side of the floor isn't going to support your weight!”

“Yes it will. I know how to do it.”

You started walking all over the remaining edge of the floor in front of what was left of the computers. Small pieces would break off as you passed causing Bucky to hiss.

“Y/N, you'd better stop and get down right now. There's still a risk of them firing again.”

“I'm gonna get it, Barnes.”

“Y/N! Get down, now!”

Ignoring his command, you held onto the remaining wall in front of you as you continued on your way, almost reaching where the pendrive was, about to fall into the abyss.

Ninety-eight percent.

“Y/N!”

“Fucking hell, Barnes, will you shut the fuck up? Your yelling is breaking my concentration.”

“You want me to just stay quiet while you walk to your certain death?”

“I'm not going to dieee- ahh-”

Your left foot, the one in front, wobbled as a piece of the floor came loose. You clung tightly to the wall as best you could, breathing deeply to calm your racing heart. Panicking at that moment wasn't going to do any good.

“God, I can't believe this,” you heard Bucky's voice, muttering to himself. “Now are you really going to get off?”

His voice sounded reprimanding, but agitated. In the midst of that mess, you wondered for a moment if he was really worried.

“I'm almost there.”

You heard him grunt in the distance.

You kept moving your feet in the direction of the main computer, this time more cautiously and more slowly. The floor all along that edge was too cracked, on the verge of falling. You were surprised it had lasted this long.

At that point, Bucky started talking to Steve, but you kept your full concentration on not falling. Maybe Bucky was right and you really didn't have any regard for your life, but…. No, no. You were very sure of what you were doing. You couldn't give up without trying everything. Maybe for Bucky it was too risky, but that was your life. And you knew you could do it.

Ninety-nine.

You had reached the critical point on the ground.

The voices of the two men were becoming too overwhelming, so you quickly took off your communicator and stuffed it in one of your tactical pants pockets.

“What the fuck did you just do?” Bucky exclaimed, a considerable distance away. He wasn't as far away as you thought.

“Your voices are distracting me!”

Good. You were close. Maybe from there you could reach it… if you stretched a little… a little more… a little- Whoop. Nope. You weren't that close. Another chunk of floor fell and with it everything around you shifted. The concrete was so unstable that it tilted further into the abyss after your not at all incredible maneuver.

You had to get even closer.

You had to use plan c.

But for that, the pendrive had to be one hundred percent charged and you weren't sure you could wait for that. Or well, you weren't sure the floor would hold. You had to be quick.

You heard Bucky behind you, but his words were carried away by the wind. You couldn't focus on him because that would be too distracting.

So, arriving at point x, you executed your plan as quickly as possible.

You ran. Even if the world was falling down, you ran. In the direction of the pendrive. The green number didn't change. You took a deep breath. You felt the sparks fly around you. The sound of the ground cracking was going to haunt you in several dreams.

You picked up the pendrive. You would have a few extra seconds as you leaned over and climbed over the computers to gain momentum.

The bing of the computer filled you with a rush of adrenaline.

One hundred percent.

You jumped. You held your breath for a second. Nerves built up in your throat. You felt like you were going to lose consciousness for a minute. Maybe you heard Bucky in the background, you weren't sure, but knowing him he was probably still scolding you.

In the midst of a deep exhalation…

Your feet hit the ground. You rolled. You moved quickly as you turned to see that the ground was still falling. You got up and ran.

You ran until you collided with a solid body. Bucky was shaking your shoulders.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he exclaimed, his face angry.

You could hear Steve's voice through his communicator because of how close he was.

“Shit.”

He grabbed your arm and you ran again.

Somehow, Bucky managed to get you out of the building as they bombed it again. You had a gunfight the moment you touched the cold snow.

You moved alongside Bucky like a symphony, aiming and firing with your gun until you managed to get away.

When you noticed that you kept going and kept running…

“Where's Steve?”

“If you had your fucking communicator on…”

Bucky grabbed your hand again to keep running.

You quickly reached a shack that looked abandoned and the man next to you wasted no time in letting go of you and running in the direction of what appeared to be a garage. There was a motorcycle.

You reached into your pocket only to realize that the communicator had been destroyed.

And Bucky looked too angry to want to talk.

“Get on.”

He drove all the way into town, but he didn't stop there.

You were on the road for at least about two hours. You had no idea where you were.

Somewhere along that trip, Bucky stopped in front of another abandoned shack and from there he pulled out a car. He set the bike on fire.

You went back on the road, for at least another hour.

Until you reached a small town and Bucky finally stopped in front of a house that didn't look so neglected.

“They destroyed the Quinjet's shields at missile point. Steve had to leave. We'll stay here until I can get through to Fury and we know what to do.”

His voice gave no room for retorts.

Present.

Well, yes, you were a bit reckless during missions, but so what? You got what you needed thanks to your incredible action plans and always came out unscathed. If you didn't do that during missions, how far behind would they be now in their knowledge against the enemy? They would probably be sitting ducks. Bucky didn't see that.

You two didn't talk for much of the afternoon and evening. You had spent it in the living room, trying to avoid the mess he had made to get something to eat and rest. You had perhaps slept for about three hours when you woke up and saw him sitting in one of the dining room chairs. The room looked cleaner than before.

Bucky sighed when he realized you had woken up.

“I'm sorry I yelled at you.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Earlier when we arrived. And for all the mess,” he averted his gaze when you leaned on your forearm to get a better look at him.

“Don't you think it was the least you could do?” quizzical, you sat back on the couch.

“Weren't you the one who said I don't know how to talk like a civilized adult?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Sometimes.”

“Well, now I want to. That's why I deeply apologize for reacting that way.”

You remained silent, not really knowing how to answer him. On the previous mission you'd had with Bucky, when the whole mess was over and you were quietly in the Quinjet taking it all in, Bucky had only said “you're fucking crazy” to you before exiting the aircraft. There was no scolding, at least not from him, no complaining, no yelling. Just that. And with that you stayed for a week because you never even saw him again.

Despite the number of times you had heard that, you couldn't see it that way. That was your job, that was what you did and you didn't dislike it. You had done it forever, it was basically your way of life and you had always done it excellently. You trained and practiced for situations like that, that's why you were part of SHIELD's risk management team for so long. You used to risk your life like that to save other people and it didn't bother you. Now you were still doing it, also to save people. There was no dark reason behind it. You were contributing to a common good and that was enough.

“I guess I haven't made things bearable for you either,” you admitted with a hint of remorse.

“No, never,” Bucky shook his head in agreement.

“I'm sorry I scared you,” the words slipped from your mouth. You wanted to say something else, but, well, that had to work.

Bucky let out a short laugh. His head jerked in sync, his shoulders loose as if he didn't have a care in the world. For a moment you felt like you were somewhere else; maybe in a living room, some alcoholic beverage in one of your hands as one of your favorite songs played softly in the background, and Bucky. Bucky sitting in front of you, just like that moment.

Wow. What the fuck was that?

“You apologize for my reaction, but not for what you did?” his sly grin was getting on your nerves. You preferred it when he wasn't trying to upset you at the point of smirks. You never thought that was a weapon he could use against you.

Feelings.

Ew.

No, I hate Bucky Barnes. This is unacceptable. Mind, get your shit together.

“Well, I tried to do that earlier and you didn't care. I don't know what you want from me, Barnes,” you turned your head away, nonchalantly playing with your hair to avoid seeing those light eyes again.

“You'd better leave it at that. I couldn't take that knack away from you if I tried for years,” the sigh that accompanied his words reminded you of something you'd thought of when you were in the building. His face still looked calm, but a little upset by the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“Why do you care so much about that?” you asked him directly now that you had the chance.

You looked at him as he turned his head away, his eyes roaming over your face, confused.

“Are you asking me why I care about your life?”

Puzzled, you shrugged. His look almost made you think that was a weird thing to ask, but was it really? “Yes. Well…. You hate me.”

“What? I don't hate you,” Bucky shook his head, his face more contracted than before as if you'd said he had cat ears on his head. He looked almost offended.

And that was the really strange thing.

You mean, almost as long as you'd known Bucky your relationship had been based on fights and demeaning adjectives to each other. That he would say that made even less sense than you asking him why he cared so much about you. He had to be pulling your leg.

“What? But I hate you because you hate me,” you explained vaguely, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. That was one way of putting it; that is to say, Bucky never gave any indication that he didn't hate you. Or well…

“I don't hate you,” Bucky shrugged, his nonchalant expression confusing you that much more. “You're just a little… insufferable sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes. “That's just a synonym for hating.”

“I don't hate you,” he repeated, this time turning to look you in the eye. For a moment you felt like your breath caught in your throat and you were going to choke. “I know we argue and say a lot of things to each other, but… hating is too strong a feeling.”

“Are you really serious?” you shook your head to get the extraneous thoughts out; that wasn't the time to make a discovery, to realize you had lived a lie.

“Yes. And just to make you more sure, I wouldn't mind hanging out with you outside the Complex,” Bucky blurted out, matter-of-factly.

Your head went blank.

“WHAT?”

Several seconds stunned.

Bucky barely cracked a smile at your dumbfounded expression. It sure looked like you'd actually seen cat ears grow on his head. The things he was now saying… they didn't make sense. “You dislike the idea that much?”

“Do you want to not say things so drastically different every moment? You're changing my perception of reality.”

Bucky kept his small smile and you had to swallow hard to ignore the warmth that settled in your chest. It wasn't welcome, not at that moment. The sound of that music in the living room in your head was getting louder, as if your own mind wanted to mock your surprise.

“Well, back to your question,” Bucky moved his hands nonchalantly over his lap and your eyes followed his movement unashamedly, “I don't see why I shouldn't care about your life. We are partners, after all.”

Partners? After all you had been through? Were you partners? Did Bucky believe that?

“Are we?” you didn't try to hide the incredulous tone that accompanied your words, because it already sounded like you'd just stepped through the door into a parallel dimension.

“Sure,” Bucky nodded to emphasize your words and the calm expression on his face became more familiar with each passing second. Could it be that that had always been the reality and you had been deprived of it? “We've known each other for five years.”

“I always thought you hated me…” you mumbled to yourself, looking lost because your head recalling every fight of the last few years, since you met him, every tongue out and every exalted word, but his incredible hearing clearly picked up what you said as if you had murmured it in his ear.

“Surely it was a mistake in communication.”

“Mistake?” you frowned at his reassurance. “You always called me stubborn and childish every chance you got.”

“I thought we were annoying each other. Although, of course,” his face became a little more serious, “there were times when I knew you hated me intensely. You said really hurtful things, what was I supossed to do? That's why I never bothered to talk to you like this. You did hate me.”

“Because I thought you…! Argh.”

Bucky smiled again.

“You're the insufferable one, Barnes.”

You hated the way your head snapped back to that image in the living room, so peaceful and calm, so serene and warm, the moment his barely noticeable smile hit you again. You had barely managed to get those words out of your mouth before you felt yourself running out of breath again.

Were you asthmatic?

And why was your head suddenly filled with platonic thoughts you'd never had before in your life?

What the fuck was happening to you?

“This is the longest civilized conversation we've ever had,” Bucky spoke again, his gaze wandering somewhere in the room.

Yes, that was true. Whenever you talked for this long it was always to argue and say hurtful things to each other. But you were too surprised by everything he had said, because just yesterday he told you that he didn't want to come on this mission with you either and in his eyes you were sure you saw something like what you felt. Something of hatred, when you saw your eyes through his.

Did you just… imagine it all?

Did you think he hated you because you hated him too?

Or maybe you wanted to convince yourself that he hated you. Maybe it was easier to deal with that than with the idea that you…

Oh no.

No, no, no. There's no fucking way that's it.

But then Bucky stood up and with his smug, know-it-all, hateful look, with that sly, evil grin, like he'd always known everything, like he was squirming around enjoying your confused stare, he held out his hand to you and said:

“Shall we fix something to eat?”

Oh, no, you were screwed.

a/n: thank u so much for reading!! <3

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fluff #james bucky barnes #stxrvel talks #avengers #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #the winter soldier

1K notes · View notes

miamooooo · 1 month ago

Note

Lowk thinking about Josh being head over heels and following around alt!reader the second he meets her 😵‍💫

him being soooo into her the second they meet he just follows her around like a little dog

sub!josh with a dom!alt!reader fills my braaiinnnn

i can absolutelyyyyy see that. i can honestly see josh being a service sub too. like he isn't very direct or open about it, but you can just tell. he wants your approval soooo bad it starts to get so obvious.

(warnings): nsfw, handjob

the moment josh spots you, he's immediately interested in you. he's instantly into your vibe and look, he just thinks you're really hot. he literally makes it his goal to have at least one conversation with you. he would definitely have some terrible opener that he thought would be cool until he actually says it. "hey, so.. what's your deal?" it's terrible and awkward and he knows it, but he's desperate to get a conversation to happen. it would be something so out of the blue that it catches you off guard lol. after the conversation happens, omg he's hooked. he's literally obsessed with you. he finds every little excuse to be around you; following you around like a puppy, catching up to walk beside you and slinging an arm around your shoulder to start up a conversation about literally anything. he'll do whatever to be in your presence. josh tries to be casual about the whole thing, but it was impossible. it was simple gestures at first; he would start inviting you out to places, introducing you to his friends, and maybe sometimes even deciding to buy you your favorite cup of coffee in the mornings. yes, he's just that obsessed with you that he had to know what your favorite kind of coffee was. he doesn't think it's creepy.. or at least he tried to convince himself that it wasn't. at first, you're a little annoyed by his naturally witty, joking, and slightly overbearing nature, and the fact that he always conveniently had to be around you, attached to you like a leech. but as time goes by, it starts to click for you, and you start to find his little obsession endearing. he's so cute and you wanna get your hands on him. and it surprisingly didn't take long for that to happen! of course, josh had very dirty thoughts about you two every now again, but he never even thought he'd be in a predicament where he was the one getting pinned against some random bathroom wall, watching the person that he was completely obsessed with give him a handjob. but he absolutely wasn't complaining. especially when your hand felt so perfect wrapped around his cock. he would look so pretty as you gently fisted him, thumb swiping over the slit of his tip that made you quickly find out where he was the most sensitive. you do it again, teasingly, and it has him jerking his hips forward, a loud groan rumbling in his throat. oh you were gonna make him feel so good. he deserved it. he’s so vocal and obvious about how you're making him feel too. he would be leaking precum, his bottom lip caught in between his teeth, head thrown back against the wall as he grips tightly at your waist. "f-fuck yeah.. keep doing that," his voice is low and shaky, a huge contrast to how he presents himself to everyone else. it was almost like he was afraid of telling you what to do. but you listen to him anyway, because how could you not? you start to twist your wrist rhythmically, hand moving up, then back down. your thumb would occasionally rub over his tip, and you couldn't help yourself from softly laughing at the way he'd start desperately fucking himself into your hand. "gonna cum?" you teasingly asked, and it only makes josh huff out in frustration and thrust his hips harder. of course he was gonna cum! when he cums, he makes the biggest mess everywhere. he's spilling all over your hand and his own pants, and it's so much of it, like he's been saving up for this very moment. even after his orgasm, he's still so eager to please you! he would probably beg to be inside of you next.

#until dawn josh #josh washington #josh washington smut #until dawn smut #josh washington x reader #until dawn x reader #rami malek x reader #joshua washington #until dawn headcanons

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sometimesanalice · 5 months ago

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just thinking about “like I can” bradley on this fine Thursday evening (and every other day)

Oh my god, you and me both! (He’s never not on my mind, let’s be honest 😂) Cozy, domestic Bradley has been both the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires of late.

Delicate Sensibilities

Summary: After a long week and having spent too many days apart, Bradley gives his girlfriend quite the eyeful.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 1.5k

Bradley’s lounging on his couch half watching the game on tv and half aimlessly scrolling on his phone waiting for you to get home.

You’ve been having to work late most days this week because of some tight deadlines with a difficult client. He feels like he’s barely seen you in the past four days.

And it didn’t help that you’d slept at your place last night.

Alone. Without him.

Coyote had even accused him earlier tonight of moping and bringing down the vibe at the Hard Deck. Which he wasn’t wrong and Bradley can own up to it. He was definitely guilty of sulking.

He just missed you.

It’s all he can do to try and play it cool- the game completely forgotten- when he hears open his front door, letting yourself in with the key he’d given you.

You’d technically had one since you first moved to San Diego. One that had been for emergencies back when the two of you were just friends. But he’d made a big show of giving you a new one a few weeks back when he’d realized that he’d wanted you to have one as his girlfriend. It was a distinction he’d felt was important to make, it wasn’t a step he’d wanted to miss out on taking with you.

As he’d expected, you’d taken the opportunity to tease him about. “Oh, you love me,” you’d practically sang, as he took the old one off your keychain and replaced it with the new one. But he’d seen the look in your eyes as you traced the shiny new key with your finger when you thought he wasn’t looking.

Bradley hears you drop your things to the floor with a heavy thunk, he can practically feel the withering glare you’re probably giving your work tote and laptop as you kick off your shoes with a clatter one by one.

He counts your soft footsteps, knowing each one brings you that much closer to him. His torso already turned towards the entryway to see you the moment you step into frame.

And then there you are.

Your face just as familiar to him as his own. He’s known every version of you. The girl he’d grown up with, his best friend, the woman of his dreams. Still his favorite person, then and now.

He thinks he sees your shoulders release the slightest bit when your pretty eyes meet his.

Bradley didn’t realize just how parched he’d been for you until he’s drinking you in. It still knocks him in the chest sometimes, that you’re here and you’re his.

“There’s my best girl,” he greets you, hoping to see those dimples of yours.

He can tell you’ve had a long day, an even longer week. You look tired, but you’re still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Jesus, Bradley,” you groan.

He sits up straighter, alarmed. “Sweet girl? What’s wrong?”

You heave a full bodied sigh. “I feel like I’ve been hanging on by a thread all week and then I come here and see you like this? It’s like you want me to have a full blown Victorian Crisis.”

The melodramatic way you fling your arms out to the side would make snort under normal circumstances, if he wasn’t still bouncing between confused and concerned.

Bradley looks down at the comfortable clothes he’d thrown on once he got home from being kicked out of the bar for being- as Fanboy called him- a straight up bummer. All he was wearing was his favorite pair of jogger sweatpants and a soft, worn shirt that he’s pretty sure has a hole under the armpit.

But it wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before. In fact, you’d stolen this particular shirt on more than one occasion. Which now that he thinks about it is probably why he’d gravitated towards it in the first place.

“I- Huh?”

“I mean, look at how much above the ankle skin you’ve got on display over there, Bradshaw.” You point a finger towards his feet, his eyes follow to where the elastic cuff of his pants is slightly pushed up on his calf. “Frankly, it’s indecent.”

He’ll never get tired of that teasing gleam in your eyes. You’re such a menace, but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Bradley tips his head back against the couch and laughs. “Should I be worried about your delicate sensibilities, kid?”

“That would be nice since you clearly have no consideration for my poor nerves,” you lament, bringing the back of your hand up to your forehead.

“Should I cover up then?” he asks with a smirk.

“Let’s not make any rash decisions. We’re close enough to the seaside that I should make a full recovery. Salt air and all that jazz.”

He lifts an eyebrow and then tugs up the pant leg on the other side. “How are your poor nerves now?”

Bradley sees you fighting to keep from giving into that grin he knows would take over your whole face if you let it. One that would be wide and bright and just for him.

“I toil all day to earn a living and to help the government fund my boyfriend’s paycheck-” Bradley snorts, amused. “And you tease me? In my delicate state?”

He toys with the hem of his shirt before he shucks it off and tosses it to the side. “How about now? Does this make things better or worse?”

You purse your lips together as if you’re pondering, but he doesn’t miss the appreciative way you’re looking at him.

“Unclear,” you say after a minute. “I think I’m too far away, but also I’m pretty sure my distance vision is officially shot.”

“Can’t have you dealing with a Victorian Crisis and eye strain.” Bradley pats his thigh in invitation. “Why don’t come on over here, that way I can catch you if you have a fainting spell.”

“Such a gentleman,” you say, finally walking towards him.

He bites back a moan at the sight of you shimmying up your skirt in front of him, just slightly higher than it needs to be for you to settle yourself on top of him.

His hands come to rest on your hips as you run your fingers through his hair. And low rumble escapes him as your nails gentle scrape against his scalp. The way he’s so gone for you, just one touch and you basically have him purring like a cat.

You lean in and nudge your nose against his.

“I’ve seen too much of a computer screen and not nearly enough of you this week. And all of this, a lot,” you say, gesturing at him. “You’re too damn handsome for your own good. You’re easily the best thing I’ve seen all day, Bradley.”

He feels his ears get warm at your words and the affectionate way you’re gazing at him.

“Think you’ll need some smelling salts if I kiss you?” Bradley asks. He cups your face in his hand, letting his thumb skim over your cheekbone.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

“C’mere,” he murmurs.

Bradley slips his hand behind your neck and pulls you close. You lean into him easily, pliantly, easily. Like being in his lap- in his arms- is the only place you want to be.

There’s no sun flares or orchestral strings, none of the things in those movies you like to put on when you’re stressed or sick. But he knows he can give those ones a run for their money. If there’s one thing he knows how to do, it’s how to kiss you.

He shows you with his mouth just how much he’s been longing for you. How much he needs you. How much he wants you.

Bradley smiles to himself when he hears that hitch in your breath, the way you do when he skims his tongue under your bottom lip. Your arms tightening around his neck as you press yourself against him until there’s not an inch of room between the two of you.

“Missed you,” you hum against his lips. He feels his fingers flex on the soft swells of your hips.

“I missed you too, sweet girl.”

Bradley watches as the corners of your mouth curl upwards, as you twirl some of his hair around your finger. “Oh, I know. Nat texted me a photo of you earlier tonight, you looked like a sad puppy sitting there in the corner by yourself.”

He groans and scrubs a hand down his face.

“But clearly, I didn’t fare much better. The slightest hint of a manly ankle bone and you almost sent me into a state of female hysteria.”

“So, the ankle is what does it for you then, kid?”

“Amongst other things,” you allow, trailing a finger down his chest.

He catches your hand and tangles your fingers with his. “And how are you feeling now? Should I order those smelling salts?”

“I think I’ll manage without them,” you say. “But you should probably kiss me again for good measure”.

“I can do that”, Bradley grins.

He drops kiss after kiss on your cheeks, your nose, your forehead until you’re laughing and smiling with those dimples on full display. Just the way he likes you to be.

Happy and here with him.

#inbox 💌#Bradley and sweet girl #bradley rooster bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #Bradley Bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #Bradley rooster Bradshaw x reader #Bradley rooster Bradshaw x female reader #Bradley rooster Bradshaw fanfiction

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